I went out to load the Mule this afternoon, so that I can work a track meet tomorrow at the school. Loading the Mule on the trailer, I noticed that the glove box sloshed. Sloshed? Yeah, I opened it and it was full of water, the rainfall that we've gotten over the past several weeks. The owner's manual and the roll of toiled paper I keep in there had turned to pulp and the whole mess had soured. Stagnant. Repulsive.
SO, I took the Mule out of the trailer and backed it into a convenient ditch. Sour, stagnant water poured out of the glove box, soaking everything including PawPaw. Lovely, just lovely. I loaded the Mule on the trailer, hauled it around to the front of the house near the water hose and washed everything down. Added gasoline to the tank. Then came in and cleaned up.
Milady was late getting home from work and didn't feel like cooking, so I went into the fridge and found some Black Forest Ham, some pepperjack cheese, a slice of purple onion, and some creole pickles. I made a couple of sandwiches and poured me a stiff aperitif.
The proper sandwich weighs about the same weight as a half-box of magnum shotgun shells. A handful of chips and I was done. I may pour myself another cocktail before bedtime.