Trina Machacek: The day after yesterday

Trina Machacek

Trina Machacek

I feel I must complain that Einstein had it all wrong with his E=mc2 theory which touts that for every action there is an equal but opposite reaction.
If it were true, to the core, we… OK me, me, me, because as always it is all about ME! I would not gain five pounds after devouring one teeny tiny peanut butter cup, I would only gain a teeny tiny ounce. If that much.
This all started because I am reading a psychological thriller. In the book the guy is trying to explain the theory of time. How it bends and all. The speed of light and sound. Time travel and the comings and goings of us all.
No, I will not finish the book. Too high brow for me. I am one who will read to be entertained. I am one who does not read to learn. I have no idea how I got through school this way.
Maybe it was because I was always trying to make a deal with the teachers I had. Once I made a deal with a history teacher to get an “A” this way. I would sew all the baseball team’s socks that had come with the wrong angle above the stirrups. If I sewed and corrected the arch on 30 or so pair of socks I would get that “A.” Done deal. Then I turned that sewing task into a good grade in sewing class. What a world, huh?
Now you are wondering what that all has to do with the day after yesterday right? Well follow this silliness. For the past few days I have been out spraying to kill the weeds in my yard. It’s a thing I do to keep little weeds from becoming big weed trees. Which seems to happen in the blink of an eye when the sun finally decides to kick into full swing and warm up the ground.
After the mixing of the spray the job really is pretty mindless. I usually use a sprayer on a trailer that is behind a garden tractor. But! Yes a pull behind “but.”
This year I decided I should use a seven-gallon sprayer that is on wheels that I can wheel around walking and spray in lots of nooks and crannies easier than using the big sprayer and at the same time I might work off some of my February teeny tiny peanut butter cup couch growth. AARRGGHH
I was out spraying and it hit me. I finally figured out a come back to the saying, “Free Beer. Tomorrow.” How’s this, “Can I get a free beer the day after yesterday?” It all started with that dang book. Time and all. Maybe I was learning and I didn’t even know it. So the longer I sprayed the more I thought about other stuff because as I said, the spraying is kinda mind numbing.
Exactly how does it happen that my freezer has gotten so full that things fall out when I open the door? Why do I not just throw away the candle in my living room that I continue to light even though I do not like the sniffy it produces? Yes, things like that.
I was deep into a conversation this past week in which I was told some of my life choices are, well, questionable. The thing is this. If I could go back and change choices, you know that time bending thing and all, would I? I asked a few people around me if and what would they change. The first answer is usually yes. Like, “I would have bought that great horse.” Or “I wouldn’t have sold my ’55 Chevy!” Then something amazing happens. The real answer is usually a rousing “Nope. Wouldn’t change a thing.” I love that don’t you?
Most of the things said and done were learning experiences and good, bad, ugly, happy they were all times that are played over and over again with outcomes that never change. That’s a comfort really. To know that your past actions cannot have different outcomes. No matter how you bend the truth, no matter how you look at stuff, reactions to your actions do not stay the same, they only grow more heart warming, making lessons learned more important.
So see, Einstein was not completely accurate. For every action the reaction sometimes do change. I might take a closer look at that revelation. Maybe the day after yesterday, or today. Which ever day seems to come first. Way too much thinking is going on behind my sprayer isn’t there?
Oh and no, this really had nothing to do with baseball socks. But! Batter up.
Trina Machacek lives in Eureka. Her book “They call me Weener” is available on or email her at to find out how to get a signed copy.


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