The song remains the same

A year ago today, I was asking my houseguests to please pee in the bushes and wash up with the hose because I had water pouring out of my A/C air handler and I didn’t know where it was coming from. It’s odd what sticks in one’s memory. It’s also a testament of my friends that they didn’t even blink and got with the program until I could get a plumber that didn’t want a minimum of $700 to snake my cleanout.

This week, however, found me running out to get gas for the mower, so I could come home and mow. Which I tried to do -- I backed the riding mower out of the shed and it quit so I finished mowing with the push mower. The next day, I was at the hardware store, and went to pay only to find … no bank card. I searched my wallet. Checked my bank account for fraudulent activity. Cleaned out my purse and my car. Nothing. Thinking I might have stuffed it in my pocket when I went to get gas, I checked my pants. Nada. I scoured the lawn, thinking it might have fallen out of said pocket while I finished mowing. I went to the gas station to see if someone had found it and turned it in. Lather, rinse, repeat.

On my third trip through the yard I saw a small piece of something white. Closer examination found some more pieces.

No shredder? No problem!

 Yes, it fell out of my pocket and the riding mower ate it before giving up the ghost. The woman at the credit union said she’d never seen anything like it. At least I had proof that the card was still in my possession and hadn’t been stolen. Now I just have to wait for the replacement card.