There is no such thing as simple in my life anymore. If I think a task is going to take a few minutes to complete, it will invariably take several hours. If I expect it to be done in a day, there is a very real risk it will never be accomplished at all. Don’t ask me to run a quick errand, or do you an easy favor, because I don’t feel like spending the next two weeks of my life trying to finish a project that normal people do without breaking a sweat.
Think I’m exaggerating? You clearly have not been reading Deep Dark Thoughts for very long.
I have told this story so often, it is starting to feel like a journal entry. “Dear diary, Guess what? It happened again.”
This time it started, as it usually does, with a task I have done a hundred times before. I recently hired a contractor to build a new garage on my property large enough for me to park the family trailer inside. The contractor said that the first thing he needed to do was bring in a guy (contractors always seem to have “a guy”) with a bulldozer to level the ground and compact the dirt so he could put in a concrete pad.
Before he could bring in his guy and level the ground, he told me I needed to mow the weeds down in the field they were working in. No problem, I said, not realizing that a new chain reaction of suck was about to be triggered. I said I would mow the field in the next day or two, and he could start at the end of the week.
I’m sure you can already guess what happened next. I’ve told this story before. It’s not a new one.
I got on my tractor the next day, put the key in the ignition, and realized that I was sitting on top of a dead tractor. My $15,000 farm vehicle had become a big blue paperweight. Again.
I immediately got on my phone and tried to call the mechanic I use to work on the tractor. He has taken care of the thing since I bought it and does a really good job. He did not answer his phone. There was also no room in his voice mail box. I sent him a text and hoped to hear from him in the next few hours.
He did not call back. I called again the next day. And the next. Same result. The following day, I called his mother. (Yes, I know his mother. Does that make it weird?) She also did not pick up her phone and there was no room on her voice mail box.
It was time to start looking for someone else that can work on the tractor. I found a local listing for a tractor repair guy that will come out to my property, which is a good thing since the tractor is going nowhere, and I don’t have a trailer to tow it to a shop. Unfortunately, the mechanic said he could not come out for three weeks.
Crap. I still need the field mowed. A friend referred me to someone that lives nearby who will bring his tractor and mower over to knock down the weeds in my field for a reasonable rate. I gave him a call. Miracle of miracle, he answered the phone on my first attempt and agreed to come over the following day.
Problem solved, right? You might think that, but we’re not done, yet.
The next day, a man showed up in my driveway with a tractor and mower attachment. I showed him where I wanted him to mow (although the three-foot tall weeds in a big open field make it pretty obvious where he is supposed to mow) and sent him off to work.
About an hour later, I was doing some weeding in my garden and watching a stranger drive his tractor in circles through my fields. I was feeling pretty good and figured I had a decent handle on things. I made the classic mistake of thinking nothing could go wrong at this point.
I heard a loud “pop!” and a geyser of water shot up into the air in front of the tractor.
I must admit, when I saw the water, my first thought was, “Wow. That guy’s tractor has a water feature? That’s awesome. I wish my tractor could do that.”
It was about that time that I realized the water was not coming from the tractor, but rather from a ruptured water pipe. I ran to the well and shut off the pump. (Much to the chagrin of EM1 and EM2 who were in the house trying to do laundry. Oh well. That’s life on a farm.)
I rummaged through my garage and found a pipe cutter, PVC cement, and a PVC cap that would fit the broken pipe. This particular disaster has happened so many times in the past few years, I already have all the spare parts lying around that I need to deal with it.
You hear that, you fickle gods of fate? You’re getting predictable. You keep repeating the same garbage and it’s starting to get boring.
So, where am I now? Well, the field is finally mowed but the contractor who knows a guy with a bulldozer isn’t answering his phone, so the field hasn’t been leveled yet. The busted pipe is capped, but still needs to be repaired. That will be a job for later. My tractor isn’t working and I’m waiting for the mechanic to come out and look at it.
And to add insult to injury, a new crop of weeds is popping up in my garden.
One step forward, three steps back.
Just like always.
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True stories can very entertaining! 🙂