Trina Machacek: That dang rule of threes

If there is a rule of three, I suspect it was somehow put into place by some wizard, maybe even Merlin himself. You know, he wanted King Arthur to see his powers so somehow, he created three things to happen in a fairly quick manner.

Things he could control. A tree fell in on a corner of the castle. A court jester broke an ankle whilst jesting before the king. And his topper? Well, he told the king he should have all his knights meet at a round table. That way the king could keep an ever-knowing eye on each of his protectors. Least one of them try to do something to the king. Like stealing Queen Guinevere!

In reality, Merlin sawed the tree so a breath of wind would knock it over. He threw a handful of grapes on the floor as the jester began to jest. Guinevere and Sir Lancelot? Well, Merlin just let time and lust take it from there. So is there a rule of threes. Three things happening in fairly quick succession? Yes, usually not good things. But! Ah yes, a three-sided “but.” Why does the rule of threes have to have only bad connotations?

Well, Trina. That’s the way life sometimes is. In a small community you see it most often when sadly there is an accident, and someone is hurt or even called home. Yes heaven. More often than not it comes in waves of three. Whether you’re one day or 35,405 days old (97 years if you are a math head) when someone passes it affects a community with a trickle-down effect.

Now wait. Let me pull you up and out of the deep hole you feel yourself getting sucked into with all this bad juju talk. The rule of threes sometimes has a playful side. Like last week at Casa Trina. First, it’s summer. Finally, after the mind-blowing, record-breaking snows of the “winter of ’22-‘23,” (one like the memorable winter of ’48-‘49). After winter has receded as it tends to do come July. Hurray and hot. It was hot for a few days. I finally decided to hook up my window cooler, swamp cooler as we call ‘em here.

Usually, they are on top of the houses but thankfully our house and our physical capabilities lent themselves to our having one that we slide in a window in July and back out when I find I am trying to stop up the hole with pillows, along about Labor Day.

We have a very short hot season here. So, I pop outside, slip the heavy metal box, which is about the size of a Smart Car, slip it into place in the designated cooler window. I must tell you the window is larger than the cooler so over the years I have adapted a piece of plexiglass, (grand solid plastic window material), clear shipping tape, a few extra pieces of lathe and some other do-hickeys to make it look all country chic.

I cleaned the bottom, I oiled the motor, I checked all the things I have learned to check and then filled the reservoir with water and let her fly into cooler mode. It hummed to life. I hit tornado speed and it just continued to hum lightly. About then it hit 178.54 degrees in my house. I tried tornado speed again and HUMMMMMMM. Like a lightly salted pretzel.

There just was no satisfaction. Just a light hum. Some though. So, I let it hum. Thinking back. Yes, at the end of last season I remembered the tornado had left and there was only a hum. I just drained the thing as it was turning chilly. Now? At 178.54 degrees I desired, needed, that tornado speed. HUMMMMM.

This story is getting to be a bit longer than it needs to be. Let me jump forward. Number two of three showed up when I hopped in my shower. Yes, 178.54 degrees and, no hot water. Not that the water wasn’t hot. Nope. NO water came out of the hot faucet. At all. You want to cool down from 178.54 degrees, do it in a very cold shower!

Oh enough with the threes. Two was enough. I went to my freezer, got out a blue Otter Pop, cut the plastic off the top, put my feet up on my dust covered coffee table giving thought to my plight. I have grown a lot in the 5 1/2 years of my widowhood.

Proved it this week when I didn’t fall apart. Nope I just sucked on that blue frozen stick and turned it all over to him. Hey, he brought me to it. He’ll bring me through it. He did.

Trina Machacek lives in Diamond Valley, north of Eureka. She signs and sells her books through her web site, www.theeurekacountystar.com.