The day started off okay. I told my mamacita I'd install a kitchen faucet for her. I was hesitant to do the job. Plumbing is one disaster waiting for another disaster to happen, and sure enough that was the long and the short of it. Nothing went right. Shut off valves didn't shut off. I had to buy new lines. I went to the hardware store three times. It was challenging, but I got through it.
I'm going to start recording bass lines for a record I'm working on. So while at my mom's, I picked up my bass cabinet that was in storage to bring back to my cabin. It has casters on it, so I rolled it down the dirt path to my studio. At a certain point it got away from me. I lost traction on account of the steepness of the slope. The cabinet rolled downhill and ended up below my target destination. I needed to pull it back up hill somehow. I was still slipping and sliding all over the place. I grabbed a garden hose and tied it to the cabinet and pulled it uphill while holding on to a lemon tree to keep my balance. It was like hauling a giant fish on board, but I finally got it on my deck.
At the end of the day I helped bury a squirrel. The poor little guy made a bad move and got hit by car. My friend Adrian saw the squirrel laying in the street. I didn't see him until he pointed it out to me. Adrian didn't want to leave him there, so we devised a plan to bury him without having to touch him. We used a broom and a trash can lid.
Adrian said a prayer. I added a few words at the end, something to the effect of: although you didn't play it right, and you made the wrong move, you were probably a good squirrel.
It was a hard day for everybody.
