This morning after Mr. Fixit went to paint at the trailer park, I decided to trim the short length of hedge at the end of the driveway. It was becoming difficult to see traffic coming around the corner. It was a good time to do it, because the temperature was only about 90 degrees.
I found the hedge trimmer and the extension cords and began the trimming. It’s a little bit hard for me because it’s a tall hedge and I have to hold the trimmer above shoulder height. In fact, on the low side (the ground slants) I have to hold it about head height. That trimmer gets a bit heavy.
As I was doing the sides, somehow or the other I cut the electric extension cord. Yep, lopped that sucker right off—with sparks, of course. What to do, what to do!? I changed my clothes, put on make-up, and headed for Lowe’s. I thought if I could find a new cord just like the old one perhaps I could neglect to mention the little mishap. The only orange one like the decapitated one was only 20 feet, and that wouldn’t do. I needed a 50 footer.
Dang! The only one I could find was red with a black strip. I think he will notice it’s not his extension cord.
I can just picture it now. He will come home notice the the injured orange one. His first question will be, “What happened to my extension cord?” The first question won’t be “Did you trim the hedge?” or “Did you get electrocuted?” I can see his upper lip get thinner and almost disappear as it does when he is p.o.ed. He will then tell me I bought the wrong replacement. I sure he wanted the heavy duty model, but they only had the medium one.
So here I sit near that road paved with good intentions, waiting the for the bus to take me to hell. But at least I will be able to see it coming around our corner. The hedge is now a couple of feet shorter.