Spring At Last

Big fun of the week, driving The Cobra. It's so smooth, quiet and I'm getting used to cruising past petrol stations. Love the independence from the petro-chemical companies; feel like sticking up the middle finger as I sail past. Not so much sun to charge during the day but daylight hours are lengthening, summer's coming up. 

House job of the week, getting the timer of the heating unit back to neutral. Tina tried to programme it but it's so complicated she gave up. Left it coming on and off at a couple of odd times during the week- 4:30am, 4:30pm and we can't turn it off. I've called Rue a couple of times and this time he commits to calling in. We stand in front of the controls and he has to figure it out. He goes in circles for a while before he gets through to the machine. He tells me I need to clean the grids and gives instructions which Bertie follows to the letter on the spot. The grids are dusty and Rue says the heating will be more efficient. Stands to reason. Maintenance....always a sound plan. Mentions the house at the corner of College and Brenchley, horrible. I can see that from the outside. 

Meanwhile, the container wars begin. Jorge has a container I recognise and question him on it. His response, it's his cos it has his name on the lid. Bertie and I go out to Sharyn's with dinner, she's broken her big toe which is in a cast. I ponder the container- I know it's mine. I bought five about 8 years ago when Freshchoice gave out coupons. They're glass bottoms, seal well and brilliant to use. Bertie googles them- made in Germany, not for sale here. By chance I looked through the cupboard yesterday for containers and sighted what I have. When we get home I check. The shape Jorge claims is a single I had. It was there yesterday but not anymore. 

I ask him when I see him the following afternoon. He tells me it's definitely his, bought at Pak'n'Save. I nod but the feeling comes back. Not his. I let it go in the meantime. I need to figure this out. Bertie and Greg come for dinner. I want to hang stuff but the birds need a mount. I'll have to wait. But I get Greg to raise the bathroom mirror, too far, he puts it down, I decide it looked better the first time, so he readjusts it. Big news, not, but in house finishing terms, another job done. 

Outside in the garden the spring flowers start showing their faces. The first of September, new life, renewed energy. I wish the kids at school would wake up. Any day now. I go to the first event of Word, If I Were A Story and You Were A Song- a collaboration between Tiny Ruins and David Mitchell. David's in Scotland, Tiny is on stage. Can't hear her words so well but this performance has been 2 years in the making. Delayed and delayed by Covid. I love the combo of north v south hemisphere, male v female, singer v story teller. Magic.