There is one sure fire way for me to cry and that is to be frustrated. Since David left for California, I have endured loads of frustration when it comes to taking care of the yard. We bought a brand new lawn mower so that I wouldn’t run into any problems while mowing the lawn. Well, every week, it was something else. It would take forever to start (i.e. I would throw my arm out pulling the cord or burn my thumb), it would just stop for no apparent reason never to start again (well, until Don came and tried it. Then it started on the first try @@) and finally, sounding like the blade dropped off and quit working. I looked underneath and the blade is still connected so I’m still puzzling that. The other source of lawn frustration is the weed wacker which is electric and refuses to stay plugged in. Either to the other end of the extension cord or to the house. Some times I suspect it just doesn’t want to go cuz it wants to see me travel 25 or more miles to check the connections ending up crying in the middle of the yard. My neighbors think I’m wacked, I’m sure. Well, I hired someone to mow the grass so at least that frustration is off my plate. Maybe the weed wacker will start behaving now.

But…it would seem that we purchased another piece of frustration yesterday. An MP3 player. I want to be able to listen to books and music while I’mwalking and like the idea of such a small device that can strap to my wrist and hold hours of entertainment. Bonus round: our library has free books available for download. How fun! Not. Can’t get it to work. I have left it in David’s capable hands even though every fiber in me wants to cry at the frustration of it all. I’m glad we took it out of the package before he left for the Academy. I am not too big of a technodope and I could have figured out how to make it work, if it only would, but this additional frustration I would never have been able to fix alone.