2009.05.31 Pretty Evil
OK, I'll admit that the roses are pretty. Even better is how the multitude of blossoms arrayed around the inside of our house helps make S happy.
But I still think they're evil.
However, now I've found a new source of evil: grass.
I've been waiting to get a free lawn mower out of one of my buddies, and so for the past two weeks I've been neglecting the smallish zone of non-rose non-shrub yard which has the stereotypical grass. When the aging Sears Craftsman push mower was dropped off, I was told brightly that it hasn't been used in about two years and that it hadn't been prepped for storage beforehand.
Foolishly, I thought that this would be a fun excuse to take the mower engine apart, clean it, and put it back together. Taking it apart, it was filled with varnish and goo. And, annoyingly, the goo seemed most determined to stay in the frail parts I couldn't completely disassemble without destroying. Or, at least damaging a bit. Flushing the system with fresh gasoline, I tried starting it - I could only get it to fire for a few revs before dying. Hoping to eventually purge the system, I spent a long time playing pull-blatt-wheeze-die with the mower.
My helpful neighbour heard my efforts and offered me the use of his mower. To which I gratefully said that I expected to need it after a few more twiddles to see if I could get enough fuel/air flowing. He then offered me the use of some of his starter fluid.
This is exactly what I needed - aerosolized explosive in a can. I blasted a charge into the carburetor, and got the damn mower running for a full two seconds. Not there yet. I sent another blast into the carb, and got slightly more run time when I tried starting it. Finally, I put a full charge into the air cleaner, hoping that might meter out the go-juice long enough to burn off the goo and let the system run normally.
It sort of worked. I yanked and the mower coughed and spluttered, but it was running. Until it backfired and caught on fire, that is.
I had been smart enough to do all this in the middle of my concrete driveway and away from anything flammable. I had not been smart enough to have the fire extinguisher handy, though. I ran away from the flickering mower fire (the engine died gratefully), and went to where I thought the extinguisher was.
Funny thing about moving, until you actually finish unpacking, it's a bit hard to say with much confidence where anything is. Some frantic toppling of boxes did manage to reveal the extinguisher in under two minutes, but by the time I got back outside the fire was already dead.
I took the starter fluid back, and borrowed my neighbour's mower. Yep, the yard is evil, but it's pretty.