9 June 2006
165
R. Linda:
Things have been fine and dandy and we are adjusting nicely to the rain. I tell meself it is just like being back in Eire and such. Everything be very green and tall. Yes, me lovely yard that looked like a putting green looks more like the Amazon Jungle, but I have to tell you, if you have no fear of snakes, it be lovely to walk through the grass. I do this every morning on me way to me car, me pants virtually glisten with raindrops from the knee down, and me socks and shores are soaking wet, as I step lively to avoid the snakes, but the glory of the green is just too much not to appreciate.
Now if you believe that last I be more than happy to invite you on a trip to Northern Ireland in the winter and tell you it be the most beautiful place on earth. For sure it is lovely shades of grey and brown, but the earthly tones take on a kaleidoscope feel as you try to see through all the rain hanging off your eyelashes.
So it be water, water, everywhere and for some strange reason, only known to woman, me wife decides she needs a new washer and dryer. It must be the sound of the rain that brought the thought on, I don't know. Anyway, we have the top loader variety in washer/dryer appliances, both about 25 years old. Our whites don't get very white and our towels don't dry fully, but they run! The wife says to me, "Yes, Gabe the electric bill is huge because of them, time to replace em'."
I be one for saving on the electricity because it is sky high at the moment, I decided she was right we should replace the old relics with something that will make the whites white, and the towels dry damn it!
So we do our appliance homework and over to The Depot we go, purchase and we are set to haul them home.
I get me neighbour's truck along with me neighbour, and we go back to pick up the set. We load them in and I be struggling to get the big arse washer on, when me mobile rings and it be Weasil. How he knows to ring me when I be busy to the extreme, I don't know, but doesn't fail. So there I be, shouldering the washer as me neighbour is hauling it in and trying to have a ridiculous conversation at the same time with Weas.
Weasil asks me what I'm doing, I tell him, and he offers up a box truck from someplace and I tell him thanks but no thanks I be already loading and getting ready to truck the things home. He asks if I know how to hook up me new appliances and it hits me that maybe I don't. He offers to meet me at the house and hook things up. I say, okay, because if there is one thing Weasil is good at, it be with electronics and hooking things up electrical.
I get to me house and me and the neighbour finally get the things out of the truck and are in the process of getting them down cellar stairs when Weasil arrives. He stands at the top of the stairs telling us how to do a better job of moving the heavy things. I could have killed him. Here we are trying our best to not end up with hernias, and not bust the old wooden stairs to bits, or dent and ruin the new machines, and there he is yapping at us. There is nothing worse than a Monday-morning quarterback when your back is breaking and he isn't helping physically.
Me neighbour and I got the bloody things in place and he left as Weasil came down cracking his knuckles in anticipation of getting me washer/dryer hooked up. I left him to it because me back was fecking killing me and I had to go lay down on the upstairs floor to ease the pain.
I heard a lot of scraping and banging going on, but I was too sore to try to get up and too tired to crawl to the top of the stairs where I could look down. The banging got worse and louder. So much so, I caught hold of the old ladderback chair and with incredible pain, pulled myself upright. I stood there with blinding white flashes of pain running up from the back of me legs to the back of me neck, but the banging downstairs was incredibly louder, so I forced meself to move forward toward the stairs. I looked down and saw bloody nothing, just hearing the banging sound from the washer. I lurched down the stairs, every step filled with pain, groaning, eyes shut tight as I used me hand to guide meself holding onto the railing at the bottom stair.
I steadied meself, and was about to move forward when I opened me pain-filled eyes to this:
The Wash and Wear Weasil. Agggh!
I gotta tell ya, I don't know how he did it or why, but there he was INSIDE the running washer. That's all I will say about this. I be still asking meself WHY I let him out of there.
Gabe
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