Mr. Cope's Cave: ???????????????

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S'cuse me, but today, I'm just going to throw on a nice music video and that's it. Bunch of stuff happened this weekend and I didn't get time to sit down and do my blogging. I started Saturday morning, actually, but didn't get far. All I got written was "Mr. Cope's Cave: ???????????????" and then I got a guilt attack because I wasn't outside doing something. Sixty damn degrees on the 7th of February! Naw, no global warming going on around here. And see, I still had a bunch of clean-up work to do in my garden that I've put off, put off, put off, and I’m sitting there in my basement trying to blogiate but all I could think about were those desiccated tomato plants and dried out cucumber vines and skeletal peppers that should have been pulled up and thrown away four months ago. So after about an hour of getting squat done, I said F*** IT!, pulled on my mud shoes and went to work on all those dead veggies, thinking I still had Sunday morning to write this stupid blog.

Only, by being out in the garden again, I remembered what I'd had trouble remembering all winter, is that my garden tiller gave up the ghost in September. Over 20 years that old boy faithfully turned my dirt and finally it died. But not until I threw my back out and did some serious damage to my rotator cuff pulling the cord 5,000 times on that sonofabitch to get it started, which it never did again, and finally I said F*** IT! and decided I needed to find a new tiller. And I shouldn't have called the old tiller a sonofabitch because, after all, 20 rototiller years is, like, 150 human years and he was a good ol' boy while he lasted.

So I went to the garden tiller page on Craigslist to see if there was anything I could get for cheap because, during the 20-plus years I spent on that old tiller, tillers have about doubled in price and, besides, I didn't want to buy a tiller that was going to last another 20 years because I doubt that I will last that long and what's the point of having a tiller around after I'm dead. I'd been looking on Craiglist off and on all winter, whenever I remembered the old tiller—let us call him "Teddy," "Teddy Tiller." Yes, yes. I wish I'd thought of naming him that 20 years ago—was dead, but they never had anything that looked good. You know Craigslist. Somebody's always trying to sell something that isn't worth jack for 100 bucks. Over the winter, I'd found a couple of ads that said, like, "Garden Tiller for sale—100 bucks, needs new engine"—things like that. But nothing good for a price I wanted to pay.

Until Saturday, when I found right at the top of the list a pretty good-looking machine for a pretty good-looking price, and it had been posted only 23 minutes earlier. So I grabbed the phone that very minute because the only other likely prospect that had shown up was back in December and by the time I called, I was already third in line. But this time, I was the first, but it was late in the day, and the tiller was in Caldwell, and we had company coming, and so I arranged with the nice lady (with the tiller in Caldwell) that I'd come over Sunday morning to look at it, forgetting that I'd designated Sunday morning for blogifying.

So guess what didn't get done Sunday morning. Or Sunday night, either, because it was double-header night on teevee, what with Downton Abbey AND The Walking Dead, back-to-back, which in Bill's idea of what's worth watching on teevee anymore is like a piece of pie followed by another piece of pie. And then here it is, Monday morning and... uh... so here it is. This is what you get for my blog today. Ain't you thrilled?

But don't get all "Harumph! You call that a blog!?" on me because, like I said, I'm going to throw on a nice music video, which I don't know what it will be yet because I haven't looked for it yet, so you don't even have to read this if you don't want. Like I give a shit whether you do or don't. And it's probably a good thing it looks like rain this morning or I'd probably be having another guilt attack about not being outside in the 60-degree global warming with my new garden tiller. Which I bought, by the way.

By the way, I'm thinking about calling it "Tom Tiller." Or maybe "Teddy Tiller, Jr."

And here it is, a nice music video, whatever it is.