Dear Hearts and Gentle People

"Ya'll must not be livin' right," said my neighbor when I told her about my week from hell.

"Well, I thought we were doing pretty well in that department," I told her, that is until she brought up the subject. Now I'm thinking really unkind things about my neighbor.

She may have a point, though. Murphy's Law has run roughshod over our house for the last month or two and for the life of me I can't figure out why. Maybe the Good Lord is sending us some sort of sign. I just don't know.

I do know that when I woke up Monday morning and realized that the bird singing outside my window was a buzzard I should have seen it coming.

I got out of bed and was on my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee when I realized I was wading in an inch of water. Despite my creative use of duct tape in the absence of my resident plumber the pipe under the sink had burst and was spewing like Old Faithful. (Sign # 1)

I grabbed as many towels as I could hold and threw them down on the floor while I searched for the cutoff valve. After a couple of minutes on my back soaking up dishwater I found it, turned it off, grabbed up the wet towels, stripped off my drenched pajamas, and headed for the utility room.

A load of towels in the washer, I fixed me a cup of coffee, took a deep breath, and flopped down on the sofa to watch Fox News and see how the other 9 billion people on planet Earth were faring that morning.

The beeper on the washer sounded about twenty minutes later and I proceeded to load the dryer, then clicked it on.

Nothing happened. (Sign # 2)

Clicked it again and the most horrible stench emanated from inside the drum and I knew I was in trouble. Obviously, either a skunk had managed to crawl inside my dryer or the motor on the twenty-five year old antique had gone on to glory and left nothing but its stink in its wake.

The latter was true.

I called hubby who was in Hot-lanta and he agreed it was time we bought a new dryer. Actually, it was past time. The thing was harvest gold, for goodness sake.

I pushed and pulled for thirty minutes and finally had the dryer loaded onto the back of the trusty farm truck for a quick trip to the county landfill and then my mother's to dry my clothes.

I turned the key in the ignition. Nothing.

I tried it again. Silence.

The battery was as dead as a hammer. (Sign # 3)

No amount of cajoling, foot stomping, or cursing was going to budge that truck so I abandoned it and unloaded the clothes.

Determined that my morning was not going to be a total bust I mopped the sweat off my brow and headed for the lawn mower. I had mowed about three-fourths of the yard when I felt a thumpitythump, sort of like when you accidentally run over an armadillo in the road. I turned off the engine, got down to see what was wrong and spotted the flat tire.....about twenty feet behind the mower. It had come completely off the axle. Oops. (Sign # 4).

I abandoned my second vehicle of the day and figured the next best thing might be just to go back to bed.

Once inside, however, I guilted myself into tackling some vacuuming. You guessed it. Vacuum cleaner broken. No suction. Belt split in two. (Sign # 5)

I would like to say the day got better after that but, unfortunately, that was not the case. More challenges lay ahead but were of such a nature that they are best shared with my shrink.

By this time I was certain I was being punished for some heinous crime I couldn't recall committing. Either that or I was sleepwalking.

Somehow I survived until Thursday without turning myself into Georgia Regional so on Thursday night I treated myself to an outing...the annual Miss Lincoln County High School Pageant. A bevy of young pretty talented young ladies in formal attire, good music, and clever repartee by handsome local TV anchor radiator. ( Sign # 10).

Folks, I can't make this stuff up!

If you believe in signs, then you may be convinced I'm in desperate need of an exorcist. Or, if you're like me, you're just content with the fact that, as I've said many times, poop happens. And, unfortunately, sometimes when it poops, it pours.

No, I don't believe I'm any different from the rest of you, dear hearts. I don't believe I've been singled out for trouble any more than any of you have. Into every life a little rain must fall....okay, bad example. Bottom line, my week could have been a whole lot worse. It often is.

But sonny boy reminded me after he helped his dad unhook the Tahoe from the Honda, "Hey, Mama. This is nothing. All of these things can be fixed. We could be sitting by the bedside of a loved one in the hospital right now."

He is so right.

Besides, I'm always telling you readers to laugh when things go wrong so I'll do the same. It won't be easy after the week I've had but I'll try.

[Interruption] Just minutes ago I got a call from my friend in Amarillo, Texas. She was frantic.

"You won't believe what I just did!" she exclaimed. "I was on the way home from the grocery store, ran into the back of a bread truck and totaled my Jeep!"

"Are you hurt?" I asked her.

"Just my feelings," she said.

"What did Mike say?" I asked her, referring to her husband, a retired Army Colonel.

"Well, I called him and told him something was wrong with the Jeep. Then I told him I had some good news and some bad news."

"What did he say then?"

"He told me just to give him the good news. So I did."

"Well," I pressed her, "what did you say?"

There was silence on the phone, then I heard her snicker.

"I said, 'Guess what Mike! The airbag works!' "

We both lost it! It's been half an hour since her call and I'm still laughing!

Now, dear hearts, that's a sign.