Not Much Going On

There's not a whole lot we can say lately...

Since the car accident, Allie's mom has been freaking out and demanding slave labour in the form of house chores as repayment for the tediousness of searching for a new great deal. (Mike! Your Magnum isn't out of the running yet, she's just a picky buyer!) Now that all the closets, storage areas, and pantries have been fully reorganized and refreshed, Allie's starting to get a little impatient.

Brent is also impatient, but with boredom. Guitars and xboxes complete and (for the most part) sold, he has nothing to do these days but go hang out with the mechanic who is looking after Tuckkie. Brent is experiencing a bout of everything BREAKING:

First he broke the truck door handle.

Then he fixed it. 

Then it somehow broke again. 

Then he took it apart to fix it and it wouldn't go back together. 

Let the mechanic handle that one. 

The mechanic discovered that the clip on the rear brake pad is somehow broken, too, and there's a leak in the transmission hose. 

Damn observant but awesome mechanic. 

Then Brent breaks the mirror off Allie's dad's bike. 

Oops. 

Allie's bike breaks.... at least breaks more than it was broken before. 

The sole falls off Brent's right shoe.

The computer blue-screens. 

The back-up drive for the computer is a lemon and some guy ran off with the wireless receiver.

The iphone screen Brent is replacing for some kid doesn't work.

The tool he's using snaps. 

The suction cup he's using won't suck. That sucks. Or does it?

Then the LCD of the iphone breaks as he's putting it back together. 

So he takes the one from Allie's iphone so that the kid can go home happily thinking he has a new screen. 

Now Allie's iphone screen is broken. 

The water-heater in the house we're house-sitting springs a leak. Daddy to the rescue.

Luke's bike tire deflates as Brent is riding it. 

The steering knuckle in the truck is seized. 

They don't make them anymore. 

The steering rack in the truck is seized. 

That's $250 + 10 hours labour. 

Allie's running shoes bite the dust.

Her repair job is temporary, only to add lumps in the soles.

Allie's new $400 orthopedic shoes suck ass and hurt.

Brent's jeans pocket breaks and his lighters all fall out.

The second half of the movie we downloaded won't play.

It seems that since the car got smushed, karma is repaying us with a series of BAD LUCK.
Is anything going right at this moment? Not really...

On the up-side we're trying to change our luck with a new job at a resort. But where will we be? Fairmont Whistler, operating ski lifts and hot cocoa machines? The Couples' Resort in Algonquin Park cleaning heart-shaped hot tubs and serving romantic fondue for two? Or a hunting cabin in the middle of the tundra boonies slaving over peameal bacon and hashbrowns for our ravenous bush-men tennants?

Actually, there may be a great job for us at the Couples'  Resort without hot-tub cleaning involved.  He wants us there in two weeks, which leaves such few days to get the truck FINALLLLLLYYY done and go see poor papa Akins who has been waiting so patiently for Brent to get his butt in gear.

Could this be our new home for a while?