Sometime I'd like to have a run of good luck. We've just had the opposite here lately, and a lot of it had nothing to do with farming or weather.
My car started it all by running rough. When I drove, it felt like we were going over rough roads. The fact was something was wrong with an igniter. After that was fixed, the car purred, but then some clunking took place when it was shifting. We haven't figured that problem out yet because it doesn't happen all the time, but it sure sounds like it involves the transmission. Too bad it never occurs when a mechanic is around.
We're to the point where we don't know if we should add more repairs to this 13-year-old car or find another vehicle. I mean, we just invested hundreds in it to keep it going. It's a perplexing problem. Right now, I keep driving locally, waiting for the last big clunk to come.
Of course, Bob hasn't been thrilled with the weather for farming. He finally was able to work up some land when more rain came our way.
Before the land is dry enough to farm, Bob likes to jump on his zero-turn lawn mower. He does that to relax. Well, guess what? Bob broke his lawnmower.
The machine went into the shop. Parts had to be ordered, and it was out of commission for almost two weeks. This affected Bob more than not being able to get back into the field and plant. His lawnmower is his toy.
As expected, the grass kept growing. Bob had to do something. My husband went to the back of the shed and started working on a 20-year-old mower, trying to get it running again.
Miracles do happen. Bob got that mower going. Okay, it wasn't perfect. It would backfire, and it definitely wasn't zero turn, and Bob had to ride it sort of sidesaddle because he couldn't comfortably straddle it. But it was running.
This mower had all kinds of different problems — one was braking. Bob had a terrible time stopping when he wanted to. That's why I thought when I heard a loud, clattering BANG sound, I assumed he had run into the house.
The noise actually wasn't Bob crashing into the house — thank goodness. It turned out that it was a chunk of ceiling plaster falling down in our upstairs bedroom.
Oh, we knew there was a crack in the ceiling plaster. We'd been contemplating what to do about it. We had even relocated our bed to another part of the room just in case something happened.
It was a mess, but nothing but the ceiling was hurt. Not even our cats, who often spend time sleeping on our bed during the day.
We cleaned up the plaster but haven't patched the hole yet. It's just another item on our long to-do list.
Meanwhile, the downstairs toilet had a problem. The old cast iron sewer pipe in the basement had sprung a leak. "Don't use this toilet until after the plumber gets here," Bob said. Since my memory isn't the best, I took a plastic bag and looped it over the toilet seat as a reminder. For a few days we had to remember to hike upstairs any time we needed the toilet — the trip was always worse when rushing up those stairs.
To top things off, all my night crawlers died. Can't figure why. The red worms are fine.
Of course, Bob had repairs to do on his farm machinery, too, but that's pretty usual here, especially considering their age — of the machines, not Bob ... but I guess Bob's age comes into play, too.
Now I've got these problems off my chest. Time to leave them behind and move forward. I just hope something is moving/driving forward by the time I get outside. We never can tell what we'll find wrong here this spring.