So ole Sugar has been out for six of the last seven weeks. Now while I don’t mind not being in my executive cubicle, I do miss sleeping in my own bed and cooking my own food (using something more than a microwave). Cruised home from the airport on Friday looking forward to a couple of days of just hanging out at the house. I knew I would have some chores but was also looking forward to working around my house. The Empress got home and things started to go just a bit awry. Seems like her Aunt suddenly discovered a key DR appointment for E’s Mom (MIL) on Monday. This is a big deal as one must purchase their tickets in advance for these things. Luckily E was able to score a seat and plans were made to head south. First plan was to drive down to beach Saturday and spend the night. No rooms available (on a side note, how do people just drive down to a resort area and wander into available rooms?). We decided to do our yard work and then head on down to MIL’s, spend the night, and head for the beach. Part of Plan B was to drop MIL off at her Boyfriend’s house on our way to the beach (notice a theme here?).
So I hopped on my trusty riding lawn mower (NOT a tractor) and started away. All was well with the world until I heard a vey ugly sound under the cutting deck. It seems that I hit a killer rock. Noise, dirt flying, and gouges in the lawn later I basically discovered that the killer rock had managed to bend one of the blades. It may come to a shock to my Faithful Reader that Ole Sugar is not mechanically inclined so he was trying to (1) find a place to fix the blade (E suggested trying to straighten it out with a hammer) and (b) figuring out how to get the mother to the repair shop. While doing that, I grabbed the trusty push mower to finish up. After about two rows I noticed the back wheel was quite loose. As a matter of fact the effin thing just fell off. I was not in my happy place. E allowed when the blade bent she would call her friend’s hubby and see if he knew of a repair place. I asked her not to do it because I knew he would drop what he was doing and come over and fix the thing. Not to turn down a free repair job but the guy had worked that morning (his job requires getting up at 230 AM) and I hated to mess with him. When I walked into the house carrying my wheel, E was shocked to get caught talking to XXX (the hubby). Told me that he would be over in about 20 minutes. I was still not in my happy place. XXX came over, replaced the blade, installed training wheels on the rider, and didn’t even break a sweat in 95 degree heat. I declared that with my luck going the way it was, I was not hitting the highway. We would head to the beach on Sunday.
Got up and hit the road. Cruised into E’s hometown and MIL was even ready to go. Scooped her up and headed for the BF’s house. Life is good. Well when we got there, he was not home. Seems that no one thought to tell him that we were coming by to drop MIL off for the day!! She dug into her purse and pulled out about six key rings. None of the keys fit the door. Beach getting farther and farther away. BF could only be 3 places so we drove around and found what we thought was his car. MIL said it looked like it, checked and said it had his stuff in it, but wasn’t sure if it was his car. We took a chance a left a note to come straight to his house. Well he showed up and we got her warehoused for the day. Did hit the beach for about 3 hours with no further incidents which was a good thing cause I am too pretty to go to prison and I would have killed someone.
So the planned peaceful weekend finally arrived. I got 3 hours on the beach in return for 8 or 9 hours on the road. The best thing was on Monday when MIL’s shrink told her in front of her sister, my dysfunctional hysterical PITA sis in law the MIL was entitled to make her own decisions, and that everyone should back off and leave her alone. Specifically said that she should spend time with the BF if that is what she wanted to do (and that kills sis in law).
Despite the initial travails I guess all was well that ended well. And my car turned 100,000 miles in an are where I could pull over and get a picture. Life is good.
And now I get to sit in my executive cubicle for 3 days......