A cautionary tale about borrowing trailers

Shawn is making me a raised garden bed.  Sort of: technically, the Kijiji Gods provided Shawn with a cheap raised garden bed, so he is very carefully screwing it back together with eight bolts and putting soil inside it.

It seemed easy enough this morning, when the day was young and full of promise.  Shawn had a plan.  He borrowed his Dad's trailer to pick up the lumber and soil.  Let me tell you one thing: if you see a trailer that is being held together by plywood, find another trailer to borrow.

After Shawn filled Frankentrailer -- herein and henceforth referred to as Frankie -- up with soil, it blew a tire on the way home.  It has a spare, but due to its rust bucket status, the bolt holding the tire snapped and the spare couldn't come off.  He left Frankie on the side of the road and called his dad for reinforcements.  His dad came.  They put a different spare on.  

That's when they heard that special kind of hiss - and realized the spare spare had a hole in it.  The hole was small, so they figured Frankie could make it home. His father towed the trailer behind his car with Shawn following.  Within the first kilometer, Shawn noticed a strong smell of burning rubber.

That's when they realized the frame had snapped and was rubbing on the tire.  That's the way the original tire had blown - it had been shorn by Frankie the Tetanus Breeder.  So they took six ratchet straps and corseted that thing up like a bride on her wedding day.  They started off again - slowly - they were close to home.  

That's when they got stopped by a long train and when the train was done, the entire town of Perth had to follow them to our street going 30 km/hr.  In retrospect, the parade was befitting of the rust bucket: it was Frankie's funeral procession.

And now a moment of silence for Frankie - the little trailer who couldn't.


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