Pocket Bike

Some days are good 'just because'. Today, it's a warm autumn day, the sun is shining and we are home alone. I had the rare pleasure of Drummerboys company from10am, due to an early Friday night and him actually getting out of bed before midday. We killed weeds, whipper snipped, trimmed the plumbago back to it's winter basics, tidied up the gardenia hedge, pruned Nana's roses and blew the leaves that last week's wind had scattered willy nilly all over the cobblestones. After five hours of mucking about with engines, including putting hi-octane in the leaf blower to the point where it led me around the verandah . . he started tinkering with his pocket bike. Started out OK but there is always more time spent fixing the thing than riding it. Removing the exhaust of course made it sound like a four stroke motocross bike much to my neighbour's chagrin. After much tinkering, swearing, sweating and getting oil and WD40 on what were reasonably good quality clothes . . . he was off:


First you have to get it started:

Then you use it to make a lot of noise and cut the grass

Then you take it into the back paddock so all the neighbours can hear it, just in case they didn't know what the unholy racket was in the first place . . . .


Then you discover that it's missing a beat and the fuel line sounds funny


So you whizz by and head up to the shed for tools and things:


Then you spend the best part of an hour trying to fix it before you realise you previously installed your carburetor upside down!

After all that sweating, grease, hi octane fuel and in your day clothes . . .you give up until tomorrow and have a beer!

Then he acquiesces to come grocery shopping (I have a sneaking suspicion that today might turn out to be tommorrow's Mother's Day present!) Then we get a call from ClareBear in San Diego . . . perfect day . . .just because