Last night Barry revved up the lawn mower. The Husqvarna tractor chugged around the house, the blades trimming grass and clover and weeds and wildflowers, when–unexpectedly–I heard a loud crash.
Barry continued to drive the mower over to the shed where he investigated. Something had eaten a chunk out of the mower blade. He invited me to lay on my belly and see the offending blade. Yep, there are mowing problems in Paradise, kids.
After swatting a dozen mosquitoes, I returned inside and sat on the couch. A strange noise seemed to rise from the basement.
What could it be?
It sounded like tinkles.
Like running water, perhaps.
One should check, shouldn’t one?
I trotted down the circular stairway and involuntarily gasped.
That loud lawn mower noise?
The culprit of the broken blade?
Looks like a rock knocked through our basement sliding glass door, splintering through one layer of double-pane glass.
We know exactly how much a new sliding glass door costs because we installed a new one on our deck last November. Looks like it’s time for another new door.
I did so admire the patterns the fractured glass created.
So artistic, don’t you think?
The glass continued to break with little tinkles for about fifteen minutes before we found a tarp and spread it beneath the door. Then he took a large stick and popped it through the hole, letting the glass fall obediently onto the tarp.
Thank goodness it did not break through both layers of glass. Our house would have filled up with biting mosquitoes and I would have left the woods, shattered, perhaps for the rest of summer. Not kidding! (OK, maybe slightly kidding…)