Trina Machacek: Dripping and spouting off about drippers

Trina Machacek

Trina Machacek

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If I were queen of the world, I would decree that everything made and sold would last forever. Yes forever. There is no reason that dripper hose and especially the little dripper nozzle things last only a few years or so. Why do I go out every day to check my little drippers only to find that at least one has popped off and the line that is supposed to be saving water is now gurgling a full stream of water? There is no justice in that.
While on this subject let me go on. How could those little dripper nozzles come off without anyone even touching them because when I go to replace them, I find it quite a chore to get the little dickens back in the tiny hose. The pieces fit so tight into the line that I need to guffaw and push them on, using a fence post as an opposite force. And what happens to the piece that flew off? It’s never found. Oh, it drips its 2-3 gallons per hour in such a calm and easy manner. Then without so much as anyone touching the line the nozzle escapes the end of the tubing.
Holy cats it must disengage at a horrendous rate as to fling it at least a mile. I know that to be true because I have looked and looked for the missing pieces and as of yet I have not found one just lying there, waiting to be reattached. But! Yes, a 4 gallon an hour dripping “but.” The good, well actually the frustrating news is that every year I go to buy new nozzles and they never have the same kind from year to year. The “they” being any garden center store or any store with any type of gardening aisle. Never the same thing. It’s like buying a pig in a poke trying to get drippers that match. It’s just the way it is apparently.
All of these things happened to me. I really hope I am alone in the melee. But as I stand in the garden store and look over the new summer year offerings of dripper line and connectors along with new and improved fan and spray and drip nozzles, I find that I am not alone. I really enjoy watching other shoppers’ shop. Of course, my favorite aisles are the candy aisles at Halloween and the potato chip aisle anytime of the year. Both have a tendency to produce a fun show of hunt and peck as decisions are made. Then again, the aisle of gardeners extraordinaire has its very own style of hemming and hawing as decisions are reached and packages of tiny whatchamacallits are tossed into baskets big enough to hold a small car, like a Chevy Spark! Shopping experiences are varied and quite amusing. I am pretty sure I too have given a giggle to someone who might have seen me pick up and put down the same item over and over again in the dripper parts and pieces section. Giving someone a giggle is the best thing I can hope for as I go about life’s never-ending tasks.
There is always something that needs fixing. I totally understand that nothing lasts forever. I just don’t understand why break downs come in bunches. All in all, though I would much rather have summer things go kaput rather than winter things. If I am going to have a flat on something make it a flat tire on my riding lawnmower while it is on the soft grass. Not my truck in winter when it is snowing, the truck covered with ice and slush and sitting on the side of a dark frozen road.
So, I took it as nearly OK when the starter quit, killing the engine as I was driving that aforementioned lawnmower over to hook onto the sweeper because I had just finished mowing my lawn. I’m at a loss as to how just poof out of the blue that starter quit. As I was moving forward. Just quit. I mean it had already done its job of starting the little tractor engine. You would’ve thought that since the engine was going varoom it wouldn’t need the starter to keep going, would you? Me neither. But this is what I found out about the starter, with the help of someone more versed in such things as me. I was told—now I am paraphrasing here— “Trina, it’s just the way it is.” Well OK then. That explains so much HAHA.
I’m walking on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop adding to the summer fun I seem to be having.
Trina Machacek lives in Eureka. Find her books online wherever you buy books or email her at to buy a signed copy. 


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