I set a goal yesterday to replace my vacuum cleaner's belt so I could vacuum when I got home from school. I did this, and when I took it apart to replace it, I learned the belt was actually okay - just off the rotator. I fixed it, replaced a Y bag, and vacuumed.
As I went into the last room I heard, zzztt pffttt szzzzt and smelled fire. That's right, my vacuum cleaner caught on fire. I took it to the garage, put the fire out, and then checked the belt and hookups. All was fine. I plugged it back in and the motor went zzzttt fppht arreet pbbbbl. It is now in the trash. I am sad, because a new vacuum cleaner isn't in the budget.
When I walked to the curb, my neighbor yelled, "Dude, you're not supposed to vacuum the front yard!" I told him I wasn't and then he proceeded to tell me about an eight-foot snake he uncovered in his wood pile yesterday. We went hunting for it but couldn't find it. He said, "Bryan, I swear, I was throwing logs at it and it wouldn't die. He tried to strike at me, but then he gave up and headed to your house."
He sent me this picture - you can't tell, but half of its body is curled under the fence and in the sun. It was large, indeed. Only half of it can be seen in this photo.
Karma is the fact that I probably vacuumed the serpent up and that is why my cleaner died.