There is a song by a band called Spacehog. It is called “Standing Outside A Broken Telephone Booth With Money In My Hand”. I always thought that was an extremely evocative title. You could really “get” the sense of defeat, just from that title. It just so happens I like the song, too.
I had that sense, today. In honor of Spacehog’s song title mastery, I am hereby calling today “Driving 25 Miles Home On Three Cylinders In A Saskatchewan Blizzard“. It doesn’t cover the exceptionally long and crappy day at work, the car-swallowing potholes, the knee-deep snow, the broken windshield wiper, the homicidal snowplow driver, or the annoying squeaky rattle that developed around 2500 RPM, but you get a sense of how my afternoon went, anyhow.
If you ever do have to drive home on three cylinders, I recommend turning the radio up, putting your head down, revving it high, and just going for it.
So, as you may have guessed, my trusty Corolla did not pass the inter-provincial safety inspection. The mechanic got up to about $4,000 worth of work (on a $2500 car) without even getting it in to the shop. At least he was kind enough to stop and call me before getting into the part of the inspection that would have cost money. He did not even charge me for the bit of investigation he did do, which was kind, and will win him more business from us. It is really unfortunate, as the engine is in excellent condition, having been rebuilt just before I bought the car, but apparently, almost every other part of the car is on its last legs. Oh, well. We needed another lawn ornament.
Also, we killed the tomato seedlings by leaving them in a window that was apparently a bit too hot and sunny. About half the broccoli has succumbed to what I presume to be damping-off – it just fell over and shriveled up. Conversely, we apparently bought our squash seeds from the The Little Shop of Horrors (for anyone who remembers that movie), as they have sprouted these monstrous root systems that are flopping out of their pots and into pots of the nearby celery, which has hardly sprouted, and will be completely crowded out if we don’t tame the squash somehow. Pretty soon they’ll be attacking the cats. I’m guessing that 7 weeks to last frost was too early to start squash. Oh, well, live and learn…