Darn.

Darn darn darn darn darn.

We have a rack just off the back porch. A black, solid steel number that’s used to store firewood. It’s a holdover from our house’s previous owner, but we decided to hang on to it.

What’s special about it? Nothing really. The only reason I brought it up is that I was mowing our lawn the other evening, and in a careless moment, I let the mower stray a little too close to the rack—again, the solid steel rack—and the mower blade assembly ended up clipping the base of the rack, bending the mower blade in the process.

Oh, and bending the crankshaft, too.

Meaning we’ll need a new mower, as it’s cheaper at this point to buy a whole new one as opposed to fixing the old one.

Darn darn darn.

(And no, “darn” wasn’t my first choice. Nor was it what I actually uttered at the time.)