We all have those days ... if something can go wrong it will go wrong. I mean they have even named this adage ... Murphy’s Law.
But for me, it’s been one of those months.
A few weeks back, the hubbs found a broken window on our four-seasons room. We’ve been keeping the drapes closed on each of the four, five-foot windows on the east and west sides in that room to help keep it cooler over the summer, so your guess is as good as mine as to when the damage actually happened. But one day we happened to look up from the outside and there it was, as plain as day, a huge hole the size of a dinner plate on the outside pane of the window.
We do have bird feeders around our deck and I’d say barely a day goes by that we don’t hear at least one bird collide into the glass as it confuses the reflection for a direct flight path to another feeder. But I doubt it was that.
We think it was probably something thrown from the lawnmower that did the deed.
So Mick went and purchased an new five foot window — cha-ching! — only to break the stupid thing when he got home and started unloading it.
We still have a dinner plate sized hole in the window.
The bills are rolling in for a medical issue Mick had this summer. I took him to the ER one Saturday morning with severe pain in his stomach. Turned out to be kidney stones. However, due to the narcotics given to him for the pain and the rise in his blood pressure, he ended up having a stroke.
Doctors were stymied by the entire incident, but that didn’t seem to matter when it came to the cost of his hospital stay.
Fortunately, he has very few lasting effects ... aside from the medical bills we’re paying off. Cha-ching.
Then over the weekend, my washing machine bit the dust. It never fails that type of thing happens when you’ve decided to take a hiatus from laundry during the week and catch up on all of it on the weekend. Of course that meant a trip to purchase a new one Sunday morning. Cha-ching!
I’ve been regularly airing up a few tires on my car for several weeks.
When you live on a gravel road, you become accustom to plugging in the air compressor or stopping by the gas station with the tire tester in hand. It is bound to happen, and usually at the most inconvenient times.
So anyway ...
Today, Mick took my car to get the tires fixed. They found nails in two of them, and one of the tires was unable to be repaired. That meant a new tire. But after more than a year of traveling on country roads, the tread was wearing down so it was decided to replace the two tires. Cha-ching!
Once back home, he discovered a screw had managed to find its way into a third tire before he even parked in the garage.
You know, now that I think about it, maybe it would be less expensive to get rid of Mick.
Contact Dana King at email@example.com