.....I have my feet so firmly planted in home ground that I'm up to my hips in it. Since this is my first post, I'll tell you the lawnmower story.
We live in a very small house. A cracker box would make a sizeable addition to our living space. We have no garage or outside storage shed, save my abandoned Ford Escort, which holds all my gardening tools. Except the lawnmower. It's not a big lawnmower; bare bones, really. It does use gas but isn't self-propelled. No frills. And also no place to put it during the winter. So, each autumn I cover it with a tarp, give it a kiss and hope for the best during our long, damp and icy winters.
We've been doing this for three years now and it has never failed to start for me in the spring. Today was no exception. It started on the first pull!. My secret? Everclear! It's a panacea dreamt of only by alchemists and silly people. If you put this miracle substance into grapefruit juice, you have a cocktail. Pour half a pint into your Briggs-Stratton and you've got Hi-Test. (It also removes gummy residue.) Technically, it's moonshine, since it exceeds alcohol limits for spirits sold in New York. It's 190 proof grain alky and you have to screw the top ON with a nutcracker, otherwise, being so volatile, it'll evaporate out through the gaps in the screw threads.
Next time, I'll write about my friend who, under the influence of experimental drugs (Chantix) threw a major wobbler in a UPS office, thereby ruining all the fun I ordinarily get out of returning bulky, heavy, sharp-cornered boxes. Now I'll have to find a new hobby.
And I still don't know where my sister is going. I know she dreads the family's reaction, but it only seems reasonable that we should be surprised/dumbfounded/dismayed when we find out that she's dogsledding off to the Desert of Lop, only after her plans have already been made. It's not like we'd try to talk her out of it. I've always wanted a rock from the Desert of Lop and now I fully expect to get one.
- Tia Hermana