Sorry, everyone, but I am really channeling all of my energy into growing stuff. The President seems to have found himself a bobsled team to Hell without any help from me, so I am out in the yard getting sunburned.
Yesterday I spent an inordinate about of time cleaning and reassembling the carburetor on my Husqvarna weed-wacker thing. I got it second-hand last year, ran it for a couple of days, then threw it into the garage for the winter. I know I should have put some fuel stabilizer in it, but I didn’t because I thought I would use it again, for sure. I didn’t, and when I disassembled it yesterday, I discovered that I should have checked for an air filter before I ran it last summer, since the previous owner apparently didn’t think having an air filter on his weed wacker was a priority.
I drained the bad gas out, disassembled the carb and doused the thing in carb cleaner, only getting some in my eye twice. (Good thing the watering hose was nearby.)
After an hour of tinkering, I got the thing to fire, albeit reluctantly. Once it was running, it sputtered, I tinkered with the choke and the throttle until I found a happy medium and I managed to cut the grass away from the grape arbor, the blueberries and the baby basil.
That’s how I am spending my time.
As luck would have it, I ran into the previous owner when I was out last night, and told him about my struggle with the tool he sold me, and he told me “Well, it’s bound to be crabby, it’s 18 years old.”
Shit, if I had known it was almost old enough to buy its own beer, I might have given up on it!
I never got carb cleaner in my eye whilst blogging, but I also never felt a need to punch Jeff Goldstein whilst shoveling manure. Which is not to say that a truckload of shit didn’t make me think of the guy…. but it passed.