Miss Sugar doesn’t cotton to rattlesnakes. She has killed a few, both with a shovel and her .410 shotgun, but she is, after all, a girl. She doesn’t have the flair for it that I have shown over the years, such as described in my post called Me and Pecos Bill.
As a scared little girly girl, she wanted me to cut the grass (and weeds) that are closest to the house so the snakes would have no place to hide in our immediate vicinity.
So I said to Miss Sugar, with indisputable logic, “I would love to cut the grass (and weeds) Sugar, except I can’t start the lawnmower on account of the starting cord does not work right.”
I even showed her the mechanical problem. “See, Sugar, the cord doesn’t re-wind so i can’t get a good pull and, not only that, since you are just a girl, you can’t do it either.”
That was a thoughtless comment. One should not tell Miss Sugar that she can’t do something. Of all people, I should have remembered that. I sure do know it from countless other similar situations.
So, Miss Sugar worked on the mower. Successfully.
“There’s your trouble,” she explained, pointing to something mechanical. “Give it a pull now.”
The dang thing started. Dang it!
So, I just finished mowing. Now I will go have a big glass of Miss Sugar’s good lemonade. I’d fix some myself if I knew how.