Sometime last night I punted Lazy Cindy out the front door.
You know those soccer goalies and how high they come off the ground when they kick. Yep, Lazy Cindy got it square in the fanny. I'm worried she might make her way to Kristie's but I'm hopeful she'll punt her west (Don't let her in, she'll coax out a Lazy friend). So if you see her, just push her west!
I figure she could use a world trip - see, I'm good to her.
It started with the weather report. Rain on Saturday (boo-hiss), snow on Sunday.
I haven't closed the pool!!!
Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Bob's reaction was, 'cut the friggin' grass'!!! Okay, so I haven't been on the grass cutting ball for the last 6 weeks but I can honestly say that I think our one neighbour loves it. He won't cut his grass until he sees that I've cut mine.
I found somebody lazier than me!!! Nah. I just think he hates cutting his grass because he does his by hand mower. Ugh.
So the wheat field needs to be cropped before the snow flies because we don't want to be the riff raff on the street. At our old home I was the riff raff but I didn't really care and I wore Bob down. Here, Bob seems to have developed that 'don't get us ousted from our house' thing but then I'd like to see them try. Oops. C-Rex just got up and stretched.
So out I go to the garage to start the grass eating beast only to hear 'a-whir-whir-----whir-----wh-----'. Okay, shake it off, it's only a little cold, back off the throttle and try again. 'A-wh-----' silence.
*snort* Silence. Yeah right. I kicked up a verbal barrage that the poor workmen up the street could hear.
Once the blue air cleared out of the garage I had to phone Bob to find out where our handy dandy battery charger was. Bob can know right down to the inch where he has put something so it is always easier to call.
Turns out it's on the tippy-top shelf and there is some cursing followed by a tote falling and cracking open because it was holding about 700 lbs of crap. It grazed my finger but I kept on moving.
See? Lazy Cindy would have needed urgent medical care and a nap.
So I follow all the extension cords in the garage to find one I can unhook to plug in this battery charger. Now, years ago my Dad taught me how to jump a battery and well, you're not supposed to connect the negative clamp to the negative post on the battery because things can explode.
Note I said 'supposed'.
My Dad would ground the negative but our cars never jumped so we would inevitably put the negative clamp on the negative post and do some praying.
Well, at thirty six I don't even bother with the prayers, I just hook the puppy up and watch all the pretty sparks. I leave for about 15 minutes, come back and Va-room!! It starts. Woohoo!
I unclamp the clamps and forget that they aren't supposed to touch each other and end up with sparking arcs flying around the garage. Yep, I'm a meathead. I run for the plug, which isn't easy because there is shit everywhere (it's all very well organized because Bob is never a slob but he never allows space to get past things), a few high jumps and a hurtle later I have removed the plug. Phew.
So now I'm riding the grass eating beast and we're doing okay. Is that rain? C-Rex rolls around and yawns. Never mind, onwards!
It stalls at one point because well, as I mentioned the grass is about the height of a wheat field and the poor beast is old and cranky. So I hear it starting to die and don't brake fast enough. Dead. I turn the starter and get nothing.
Uh-oh. C-Rex starts to pace.
I'm so far out in the backyard I wouldn't be able to hook up the battery charger so I do send up a little prayer and crank the starter again. Damn thing back-fired while starting up. I'm sure my neighbours were wondering where that little scream came from but I'm nothing if not a trooper. I did look around because I could have sworn I saw a flash of flames from my left side. I looked down at the motor, saw no smoke or fire and decided it was all good.
Yep. Lazy Cindy would have bailed.
C-Rex decided to curl back up but kept one eye open.
So I finish with the easy ride on part and realize that if I don't get the push mower out to cut the parts that can't be reached on the ride on, it won't get done.
Again, there I am trying to drag out the mower - Bob stored the bikes in front of it! So I get it out, prime the damn thing and pull that friggin string thing that is the bane of my existence. I pull and get nothing. I pull three more times and the motor is barely moving. Great. A whisper of defeat started at me but I ignored it, primed the motor again (note, the instructions will tell you to prime it only 5 times. I always prime 10 and pull. When nothing happens I prime it ten times again) and put-put-put *pause - I start to curse* put-put-put and it's alive!! I basically jogged that puppy around the yard to the point where my chest hurt when I took a breath.
Oh well, the yard is cut and that's a triumph.
I look around at the mulched up leaves and remember we have a leaf blower. Still, my chest hurts and I'm thinking a TV break is in order. I keep an eye out for that leaf blower and decide that I don't really remember ever seeing a leaf blower so I figure we probably don't own one. Looks like I'll have to wait until the snow melts to rake the leaves.
While looking for the leaf blower I spot the one thing that can turn my blood to ice in my veins.
The weed wacker.
Huh. It's a new one. I wonder if I can get that mother started. So I struggle to get it out of it's holder on the wall and faintly remember Bob showing me how to start it.
Now, with the old wacker (old wacker, ha - ahem) I would have the uh, wacker in one hand and pull that string thing with the other. Now imagine a person throwing their arms up like a flapping bird over and over again to the sound of 'wing-ding-ding-ding, a-wing-ding-ding-ding, a-wing-ding-ding-ding-ding' over and over again until all you can hear is a litany of swearing that makes even hard assed men run for the hills. I've never been able to start one.
So here I am with the brand new one and damn it's heavy. I go to pull and I don't even get a 'wing' I get a 'w'. I try again thinking I just need to put more back into it. 'W'. C-Rex starts to flex her claws but I tell her to calm down, we tried and we put the fucker, uh wacker back on it's rack.
I head in and watch some TV and really, I was done.
Then the pool started calling to me.
The problem is that the solar cover has been on it for uh, two months and there is debris all over it. Cody, blessed creature, has been curled up inside the house on his bed snoring up a storm but I figure he would love some fresh air so we both go out, unreel all the hose (I hate hose reels) and attach this thing to the end that might give the water some pressure.
I then start reeling in the solar blanket about 6" at a time. Literally. I can only move it six inches because I need to wash all the leaves and needles and ook off the cover. It's a 40' long pool. It took me an hour. C-Rex was dying to get out of her cage.
I looked ahead at the forecast and saw that next Thursday is supposed to be about 14 degrees. I figure I will unroll the cover on our driveway after I move all the vehicles and wash the driveway down and clean the thing with algaecide because as much as I cleaned it off, there is some organic stuff that was too stubborn to come off. Let's hope Lazy Cindy isn't back from her world tour by then.
Remember Cody? He's there with me and I swear if he could talk he would have been swearing at me and telling me how much he hated me. He sat there with his ears back the entire time. He was so pissed to be outside and I felt horrible but I figured 'uh dog' would love fresh air. Apparently Lazy Cody didn't leave with Lazy Cindy.
After that I can honestly say I was baked. I was soaked but luckily I didn't feel cold which is a blessing because I have closed a pool later in the year and needed some hypothermia treatment. So this wasn't nearly as horrible.
It's 4am and I went outside in the rain - Cody decided to come although he still has his 'hate you' face on - and dumped a bunch of chemicals in. I have to balance the pool, get all the leaves off the bottom, vacuum it (which is horrible because the damn pole is metal and it gets wet and friggin' cold) and then start the winterizing chemicals.
I guess this post would have been much shorter if I had just said that I cut the grass and started closing the pool eh?
OH!! And we do own a leaf blower but it's in the back of Bob's blue pickup.
You know, it sooo would have been the second place I looked.