FIE YOU, tree roots!

Robert Burns (1759-1796) wrote in a poem, “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men /Gang aft a-gley;” translation "The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

I believe it was General MacArthur who modified this sentiment to state, "The best-laid plans won't survive the enemy."

In this case, the plans were to attend the final of the season's Wisconsin Chamber Orchestra Concerts On the Square. The enemy was a ball of tree roots clogging the exit route for the sewage from my house. The results were a foul cocktail that saturated and ruined my basement carpet and a Persian runner. The terrible reality is, my husband and I have many of these stories that unfold in much the same direction:

*I have a meeting to attend and Sammy pees on Cheddar necessitating an impromtu bath time
*An anniversary camping trip mid-July turns into a chilly, muddy, wet, tick-infested bout of Man versus the Elements and Flora and Fauna and Time and Dimension
*A rare date to see Coraline (in 3-D, no less) turns into a dead car battery in a very reliable car (and, yes, the battery was relatively new ... and, yes, we only have and need ONE car)
*My folks' visit to my new home, after I had worked extreme overtime to accommodate my absence from work, turned into a mad rush to my dying grandfather in San Francisco one day after their arrival (he's still very much alive two months later)

The list of time-consumptive, expensive, irratating, and generally disgusting events goes on and on. I am completely unfamiliar with WHO would INTEND any of THESE events to happen. I think that the moral to be derived from these ramblings is clear ... I should greatly minimize the number of social plans I invest more than a few hours time toward. Philip and I settled for a nice, quick, stress-free dinner at one of his favorite haunts, Tex Tubb's Taco Palace (http://www.foodfightinc.com/textubbstaco.html). It was lovely ... and utterly unplanned.