Do you ever wish for life like it was in simpler times?
Me too. Like time BWE. Now, I feel like keeping you guessing awhile before I tell you what "BWE" stands for. Maybe it's, "Before We Evolved". Yeah, that would be simple sure enough; not nearly so many worrisome decisions to make.
Or how about "Before Winter Equinox"? Or "Before Winnie's Eeyore"? Actually that last one could fit. As in how some of us Yoders (me and my friend Jeremy mostly) are afflicted with the "Eeyore Syndrome", but we didn't really realize it until we worked our way up to reading Winnie the Pooh later in life and now we feel worse than ever because we understand what's wrong with us and know what to expect in the dismal future.
But no, that's not it either. You might as well give up, because you'll never guess it.
It stands for "Before Weed Eaters".
What in the world?, you say. Aren't weed eaters a great invention?
Yes, they are a marvelous one. But the timing of the feminist movement and the appearance of weed- eaters in the 1970's was a bad combination.
Let me explain it this way. We have a weed-eater. And my otherwise good wife Mary loves to weed eat.
Now to most husbands, this sounds like a winning combination. But don't be so quick to jump to conclusions here. There are a few problems that go along with this otherwise rosy picture.
For one thing, she usually can't start the thing. So I suppose you can guess who gets the honors. You're right, that would be me.
Now it's not so bad if I'm going to be on the premises. But sometimes I'm not going to be and she'll say something like, "Will you start the weed-eater for me before you leave for work?" So I start it and race out the lane and up the road as fast as I can so hopefully I'll be out of sight by the time it stalls.
For the second thing, she doesn't have the foggiest idea how to fix the string when it messes up, which for her happens a lot. (mechanical things aren't her strong point) Really and truly and honestly, she is absolute MURDER on weed-eater string. In fact, they should hire her to TEST weed-eater string.
I can see the ad now, "Brand X weed-eater string; best on the market! Outlasted all others in Mary's famous and grueling weed-eater string trials!)
You would think with that feminine touch she would operate the thing with finesse, but no, if you listen, you can hear the string whap-whap-whapping against whatever it is that she's weed-eating around. All of Mel Good's fence posts have marks around the bottom from the weed-eater string. I wonder what he will say when they start falling down due to having been weed-eated in two.
And then there's the thing about gas. We don't have our personal weed-eater gas can. (We should) I usually try to keep the tank full by taking it along to work and filling it with chain saw gas. But, alas, sometimes I forget.
Just the other day I was doing something important, like unloading logs. My phone rings. It's her. She wants to weed-eat but there's no gas here. There is this certain "martyr-type" tone of voice she uses. She has mentioned this before, about the gas. She says (like she has many times before) that she is going to get her own personal weed-eater gas can so she can have gas when she needs it.
Which would all be well and good except for one thing. Our weed-eater has this new-fangled gas cap that for the life of her she can't figure out how to get open. ( had I mentioned that mechanical things aren't her strong point?)
Well, it's off my chest now. I may be headed for the doghouse directly.
I sure hope it doesn't need any weed-eating done around it.
