Chainsaw reaction

Good morning,

Who knew I, the most un-technical savvy person, would attempt a blog?! Why not. I have searched forums for info pertaining to solar energy to the other edge of the spectrum of sprouting seed potatoes, darn it-I'm just plain tired of wasting time searching! Perhaps the info will come to me if I can but appear the least bit interesting and, well...interested.
I will try to the best of my ability to rant and rave, inform and be informed. And perhaps, just like the Big Lebowski (my hero), I will abide.
As per my title, chainsaws are on my mind today-particularly the one in my shed. The one I visited for many moons at the farm store, waiting, wishful, wondering if the darn thing would ever go on sale. I befriended the counter guys, the super heros of power tools. They took a shine to me, really! On their inside information I found out if I waited until the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday-I could find in the local paper a coupon for 20% off one item in the store. A gold coupon! Just like in Willie Wonka I anticipated wonderous things happening, you know-with a chainsaw. So, as I worked that glorious day, hoping for enormous tips so that I might apply those as well to the purchase price of my new 16" Stihl Farmhand chainsaw-I dreamed of spending my Sunday chopping, oh wait-that's right no more chopping! Buzzing through my miscellaneous wood lot with the zeal of a woman possessed by a bargain and the full function of a handy dandy most needed tool. Fast forward to old green 72 Ford flying down the blacktop, wind in my hair, coupon in hand, gas in the tank...wait a minute! Gas in the tank? Well, sure there was fuel in it last time I checked, but didn't the truck appear to be parked at a different angle than I had left it that moring? Teen stuck at home, Thanksgiving break-of course I wouldn't mind if he used the truck, if he supported the drive with gas money, his own. Long story short-of course I ran out of gas not 6 miles from my target,( fuel gage broken). Of course, not 4 miles from my own home would anyone stop and give me a lift to nearest pump?! Nope. Aren't people wonderful? And that goes for teens as well, because the boy left me stranded and ticked off on top of it all, because I needed to get the chainsaw, and the delay and voluntary blindness of passer bys just made my ire grow. Yes I cussed. And I am not a cusser usually, only when dealing with tractors, fishing and teenagers(and then only under my breath)-ooooh, I was seething. Good friend Audrey rescued me via the help of my electronic leash, fed me a beer, told me to breathe and eventually got me in to said farm store. So-there you have it! Must use chainsaw today, (must get dressed first), but then-off to the wild wonder of dead wood and dropped Hackberry branches by last winter's cruel ice storm. Good to meet you, take care-