Today's breakdown: Flexidrive. Snapped in half. For those who don't know, the flexidrive is a long, tightly coiled stainless steel spring-like thingy that transfers the rotation of the motor spindle through a flexible tube to the drive cogs on the handpiece, which then (through a series of ingenious bits and bobs) changes the rotation to a back-and-forth motion at the comb and cutter end. Anyway, this thing spins at 3200rpm. Until it breaks. Then it doesn't spin at all. And you pack up your gear, apologise profusely, drive off down the road, stop somewhere and bawl your eyes out with frustration and disappointment.
So I've done a bit of hunting around, and found a company in Australia who make a similar plant (Tecumseh seem to have stopped making them and have a totally crap net presence anyway). No price. I can only wait to find out if I can get one and how much it will cost.
On the upside, I finished the job for the guy I let down last weekend, and started another before it broke.
And then there's this:
That's a hoof mark. Big hoof? Nah, small breast. ;-)
There's another, similar one under my arm which prevents the use of antiperspirant for the time being.
Today, the second job was for people who I had been warned were a bit underprepared in most situations. Their yard was 1.5m wide, had nowhere to hang my plant, and a board they'd put down that was level but had been in there overnight and the sheep had crapped on it, making it slippery. Because of the narrowness of the yard, when I got to the last side of the sheep, its legs would get in the fence on the far side, and it would brace against it and push me around. So I'd stop the handpiece and drag the sheep back away from the fence. Unfortunately, I forgot that these sheep are heavier than me, and my feet went out from under me.
I landed on the sheep's head. Soft landing? No. A sheep's skull is very hard. The part of me that made contact with the sheep's skull was the bit that sits on the pubic bone (the only people who won't know what I'm talking about are young guys who haven't found it yet). Yeah. Bone-clit-bone sandwich with 52kg behind it. Nasty. Guys who've been kicked in the balls will know what I mean.
I sat there heaving and gasping and eyes streaming and wondering if I could move. But it's amazing what you can do when you have people staring at you and a flailing sheep on top of you and a sharp instrument running at 3200rpm in your hand. I got up, I finished the sheep, I started the next one and then *SNAP*.
Hence the going home and the crying.
I think I'll wait a day or two before weighing up the pros and cons of continuing with the shearing. Right now I'm having Office Space type visions involving my machine and the lounge room window.
On the upside, I am now full of coffee, sitting here in a sundress and will spend the afternoon playing with EL wire and listening to psytrance.
There's always something good. ;-)