Aging’s a Bitch
Left out of the driveway first’s first Gotta take Frieda to special examination her limbs circulatory systems. Next stop Frieda will expect our outing include breakfast out. Then I want to make at least three more stops meaning more urban driving. Already Miss Congeniality’s transforming into Herr Clink in my ears over my insistence to drive into the city. I’ve tried looking for us a ride. Has been no go of all I had asked. This is one of the ravages growing old. We’re supposed to sit on a shelf, not wanting, not seen and not heard from. It’s a wonder we aren’t incarcerated for criminally aging. While I may not be around to see it, I can still wish I could be around enjoy seeing the “Baby Boomers” take over the world. That’ll be my delayed revenge.
I voted yesterday and I voted no for continued government support for the your-ride system. I did this as our household had been repeatedly denied rides plus doing business to rules they make up either as they go along or what suit them at the moment. I see no point supporting a service, lacking in communication skills, that is thus far proving to be of little benefit to the masses with the exception of their favorites.
As for today’s travels, I’d planned my itinerary. 1st Frieda to clinic, gas Ugly’s right hand fuel tank, drive or take old 21 west into Burton for two stops in same mall Home Depot for ceiling fan and Office Max for printer ink cartridges. The next stop gets tricky my having to drive something like less than a mile to get on I-69 E-way west for Best Buy for new TV purchase (ours is just days from crapping out) stop. Then it trickily getting back on E-way fro drive towards home through Mt Morris to see if my old barnyard tux has been repaired. While were tempting fate I ought to shop Save-A-Lot store for those 40% off bargains we need every couple months.
I tempted urban travel fates, made some rounds the only way I could (it was do-it myself or go without), and come home a total emotionally traffic drained stiff ready for Excedrin headache 44, 57, 68, 101cures; plus, I must handle relaxing my death gripped muscle spasm-ed pried loose steering wheeled fingers and hands with valium, eventually downing a relaxing mind tempering beer.
I’ve no idea how many stops I had made. There were a few more than what I had originally intended. The worst stop was the one I missed (forgot) to top off Ugly’s starboard gasoline tank. Oh well, I’ll likely be on the road again for a parts run. It seems the ladies have made for themselves a portable drinking fountain. I’ve got to look at it come morning for new tie-down brackets maybe requiring a run over to the crossroads for some stainless steel nuts.
Cussed Ugly truck has started acting up already. Sparkplugs starting to foul out again. Figuring maybe the furl pumps 10 lbs pressure’s to much for the carburetor. Now, I’m a looking for an adjustable fuel line gasoline pressure gauge.
Medical appointment kept, breakfast out, and a whole lot of shopping done including what parts I could get for Ugly’s betterment we turned home for lunch.
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After lunch I turned to mowing hay for several hours. I knocked a lot of alfalfa down that’s sure. While I was mowing I had noticed the little ladies getting low on hay. Done with hay making, takened a breather, reminded, I hayed the ladies. Haying the ladies I discovered they weren’t getting any water. What is this? When will I ever get home? So it was off to the shop for those tools useful to a fountain’s repair. Rather the look for the first primary tool, I’d need to check the shut off valve, I made a new one out of a piece of number nine wire. Went back to the water-er, took it apart and found a couple wee sized stones had stopped up the valve body the further in I had taken it apart. And where’d the stones come from? As many time I’ve found similar stones as I did these up and down this road I suspect they had been pumped up and out of the well. I covered far more ground today than I had expected to making it a productive one. BGKC.
Fernan