Jeremy Lott's Diary The lawnmower blade pictured below tried to kill your diarist the other day. I was driving up Northwest road just above Bakerview when — pow! — there was a serious commotion with my front right tire followed by a curious metallic clanging sound.
Thought I might have blown it or done something worse, so I eased the silver Subaru onto the shoulder and opened the door to investigate. The tire was intact and there wasn’t any obvious damage to the car. I retraced my treads. After much searching, I found this blade, which had been kicked over into the shoulder. Because of the rust and the angle of sunlight, it did a good job not sticking out against the pavement. Which might explain why I ran over it in the first place.
Yet I am unscratched and the potential agent of my destruction sits safely on the floor on the passenger’s side of my car. Would it be tempting fate overmuch to hang it on the wall?
