…Uncle Murphy wouldn’t be on it.
Had a few move-it-around chores to knock out this morning. First I had to move the cutting table from the Lair to the woodlot so I can chop up some knocked-down pallets for firewood…
Except now there are two things that can go on the Jeep’s trailer hitch mount and to accommodate the bicycle rack I had to take the hitch off the Jeep. You’d think the logical thing to do with it while it was unmounted would be to store it in the Jeep behind the driver’s seat where it’s safe and available, right? Yeah. Me too.
Can’t really blame this one on Murphy, it’s just me having a senior moment. But let’s just say the chore could not proceed until I figured out where the hell I’d left the hitch.
But having finally gotten that done, I had to do a small chore for Landlady I’ve been putting off. She’s getting ready to put rock on the wall behind her potbelly stove, and needed a sack of mortar. “Do we have any?” she asked. “Sure,” I breezily replied. “There’s two sacks in Ian’s powershed. I’ll bring one to the barn.”
And there were, too…
I am literally getting too old for this shit. And you know perfectly well that if the stacking order had been reversed, the first thing somebody would have needed would have been a sack of concrete. Because that’s how that bastard Murphy swings.
But the best part, the cherry on top, was when I finally got the stack reshuffled and hauled 75 pounds of mortar sack to the Jeep, drove to Landlady’s barn and backed up to unload – I found I could put it right on that other 75-pound sack of mortar I’d forgotten was already there.