And Bob’s My Uncle

The inside latch on my storm door sort of self-destructed last Friday.  I naturally started googling for a replacement.  I found a latch assembly that looked just like the one I had, but I didn’t need the whole shebang, just the inside latch, which I found on both the Home Depot and Lowe’s websites.  Naturally, none of the local stores had it in stock, but  I could order one and have it shipped to the store, wait 5-7 days for it to arrive, and once it did arrive, I’d have to go to the store to pick it up.  Since I was going to have to order the durn thing anyway . . .  Yep.  Amazon.

My cousin who lives in Capitan, NM, was driving over (4-1/2 hours) to take me and my mom and my brother to lunch at Red Lobster today.  It didn’t take me as long to get ready as I thought it would, so I had about 15 minutes to kill before it was time for me to go to my mom’s house where we were meeting up.  I checked my mail, and discovered the latch had come.  I thought, what the heck, went to my tool box and got my Phillips screw driver, unscrewed two screws, took the busted latch off, put the new latch on, and put the two screws back in. In less than 10 minutes.  The only difficult I had was I dropped one of the screws and had to bend down and pick it up!

The way my luck runs, I was all ready to find out the new inside part wouldn’t fit the old outside part, and I’d have to order a new outside part and wait another 5-7 days for it to get here, but nope.  Bob’s your uncle!   I am still chuffed at how simple it was.

After a very delightful lunch (crab legs!), I set out to do my Wal-Mart grocery shopping for the month, during the course of which I indulged.  No idea what these little darlings are called, but according to the label, they are “hispanic pastries” and came four to a box.  They had a fruit filling that tasted like apple.  (That’s a salad place, for scale.)   Me gustan mucho.

Author: WOL

My burrow, "La Maison du Hibou Sous Terre" is located on the flatlands of West Texas where I live with my computer, my books, and a lot of yarn waiting to become something.

3 thoughts on “And Bob’s My Uncle”

  1. I’ve been looking at this title for days, wondering what it was all about. I did have an Uncle Bob, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t involved. That’s an interesting expression, with an interesting history. I’d never heard it, but when I started trying to figure out which expression I use instead, I’ve not been able to pinpoint it. That’ll give me something to think about at work today.

    Those pastries look great, but they remind me of mini-Struedels. Who cares what they’re called, as long as we get to eat them?


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