Continuing my sometimes-theme of using Bob Dylan song titles for subjects of blog posts, today I have to face several broken things in or around my house.
Not to mention the ongoing broken metabolism.
My car's brakes are making a horrible grinding noise. Brake linings, probably, so it will have to go into the shop as soon as possible.
The guest bathroom's commode won't flush. I hate fixing toilets, but at least I know what to buy and how to install it.
Mr. Shrinking Knitter's watch needed a new battery, which meant taking it to a jeweler, which I did on Saturday, only to return home and find they had not reset the time because the time-setting button is broken! It's evident that they tried to reset it but discovered they couldn't – the least they could have done is mention it to me before I drove all the way home.
Customer service in this part of the Middle of Nowhere is another thing that is, frequently, broken.
On the other hand, in just a few minutes I'm going to go pick up one of our Amish neighbors who has agreed to paint our garage. So at least the faded garage will, by the end of the week, look like new again.
And all those other things are repairable, with a bit of time and money.
Sure wish I could figure out a way to reinstall my metabolism. Heh.