Wow-big weekend, did so much, not the least of which was to get the Web hooked up! Funny, the 'Rest of the World' makes a phone call, pays the man, and bing bang boom-you have service!
Not I! Oh no.
First- no land line at the Bunker for at least 5 years...any body see a problem here? You betcha! Nasty cobweb skanky 'find the mystery phone line and fix it' kind of problems.
But, the crimper tool I have for doing computer terminal ends wont do phone. Sigh. This calls for a trip to town
One note to all y'all that dream of living out in the country and leaving town behind,(like I did), that means leaving town and then driving to town for EVERY LITTLE THING ! Every one thinks we are prepping for the Apocalypse because we buy everything in bulk (and I mean everything that is bulky is bought bulky,)
But no, I'm just tired of driving to town. Again.
On the way, my cheapo, gas sipping car tells me it needs a little something to sip. No problem, as soon as I get this thing here. And run over there. And o crap, the car doesnt run right now. Because I ran it so low on fuel that it sucked up the sludge off the bottom of the tank.
So. New fuel filter. From Town. Drove by my old house while getting said filter (the one I sold so we could move to the country) and got all nostalgic.....
For.......
Redneck Saturday nights, playing guitar and roasting stuff around the fire pit.
Farm fresh eggs we grew ourselves. Kinda
Big gardens full o goodness and flowers
friends who are neighbors
nieghbors who live half a mile away......
I could go on and on, but then someone might get envious and start dreaming of a semi-rural life and sell their house in town and find someplace not to far out but far enough and start buying in bulk and having to step and fetch stuff from the very place they left behind and then regret it.
But not me
Not ever
Being Unabridged
8 years ago
2 comments:
mmm, redneck Saturdays, my new favourite.
There's every chance that the next redneck Saturday night will involve the execution of several mostly empty portable propane canisters by firing squad. Oh yeah.
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