The 'registration' finally came through for my car on Monday. I had a 'certificate' to prove that I had 'applied', but the sticker still showed the expired date. She had passed her inspection with flying colours and was officially roadworthy for another year, in the eyes of the law. At least that was one more thing ticked off the list!Having a house guest last weekend had caused a slight disruption in my timetable, and prompted the necessity to call in a plumber to fix the shower. We had become somewhat complacent, and I had convinced myself there was not real hurry, but I had started to get agitated about the disarray of my living room, as everything is still in boxes, waiting for the re plastering of the ceiling, which is awaiting the fixing of the shower! There's a hole in my bucket.... again!
I did not need the car on Monday, as I was chauffeured to work, but as I walked out of my back door, I noticed the sorry state in which my 'old lady' sat. 'Growing old gracefully', she was not, and it was all my fault! I made a mental note to put the 'restoration' of my trusted steed on the ever growing list!Monday was not the best day! I was approached by one of our servers to help him complete his 'renewal' for process server certification and whilst I was glad to help, I had the feeling the process could not be that difficult. Oh how wrong could one be! It was a nightmare! Apparently, one member of the Commission under whose authority our industry now lies, was heard to say that she did not like the way the website was set up, and the process for certification was not particularly user friendly. Perhaps not her exact words, but an unfriendlier site I have yet to witness! Eventually, however, with a lot of trial and error, I completed the task and all was well. It was time to go home for a swim.
"I have to put chemicals in the pool, Miss", said the 'pool-guy' who arrived at the same time as me. Samantha chose not to go swimming at all, as she wears a few swimming hats to keep her hair dry, and looks like a smurf! "You can swim until I am ready", he said kindly. I did, and as my alarm went off, so did his warning that he was about to add the nasty substance that is essential to keep our pool from becoming horrible. I got out and made my way upstairs. Raul was having lunch and he told me that he had requested an earlier visit so that my swim would not be interrupted. How thoughtful! As I was chatting to Raul, the 'pool-guy' drove up and got out of his truck. He apologised for his tardiness but he had been dealing with broken glass at his last job, and this had delayed him. I smiled. Raul teased him about his beard. "Abraham Lincoln. That's who I am aiming to look like. You wait. I'll wear a big hat one day and you will think I am the president!" I responded with "Just don't go to the theatre!" The pool-guy frowned. "She said something in Spanish. I don't like that. I don't speak Spanish". I said, "Did you not hear what I said?" He responded, "No ma'am. I don't speak Spanish". Silence, then, "Nor do I. I said....", and I repeated my one-liner, which by now had lost its humour. "Oh, I am sorry! I thought you were speaking Spanish". I have been called Australian, a New Zealander, and even French, (no idea why,) but never Spanish! Considering my ancestors come from that part of Europe, I wondered if he was astute, or just presumed I was speaking in Raul's native tongue because he didn't hear me properly. No doubt the latter! Thankfully, he realised his mistake and civility was restored!
A few drops of rain on Tuesday did not stop us swimming, as it was a slight cloudburst, with no more than a few tears dropping from the sky. I got back into the car, Dana's car, after depositing the mornings rubbish into the dumpster, (which I should have done before leaving in the morning,) and checked my surroundings. Where were my keys? I had locked the door, and picked up the bags, and ....! "I think I threw my keys away", I told my daughter, as she waited to be taken back to the office. We walked to the dumpster, and peered inside. My neighbour's mother was walking her dog. She watched as we stood staring into the garbage can! "Go and get the grabber!" The grabber was in the house. The keys were in the bin. To get in the house, I needed the keys. Hole and bucket, again! How I have used that phrase over and over! A broom handle and a shovel, in unison, eventually retrieved the keys. My neighbour's mother was still walking the dog, with her head turned in our direction, whilst the small quadruped led her in the other. I would have to explain later!
The afternoon saw another cloudburst, but this one was very heavy and would have at least loosened the debris on my 'old lady' had she been out in the open. The last 'wash' she received was by the rain, and I had used wet towels to remove the excess dirt to at least give the impression of care!
Joe sent me a message to say he was in Peru, and therefore not at the shop. Of course, I was welcome to go and visit, but I did not need to disrupt his staff with my stories of lost keys and misrepresentation of the Spanish language! Instead, I went into the office and then left to get my nails adorned with sparkly substance. I sighed at the sight of my poor car. The interior was as bad as the exterior. It was as though she had lost weight and her clothes were falling from her body. The fabric covering the roof was sagging, and whilst I new there was a way (someone said something, at sometime) about sticking it back, I had done nothing. I had decided that vehicles, like dogs, age seven years for every one human, and it was just old age. I can hear all the 'classic car' collectors out there sighing in disbelief and horror! However, roadworthy she was, and off she took me across the river."It's raining", said Samantha on Thursday, as we looked out of the window ready to go to the pool. "Is that thunder?" I asked her. "No it's rain!" she said, sarcastically. "You can't see thunder!" Suitably reprimanded, I walked down to take my exercise. The sudden screech of brakes was followed by a loud bang. "That was not thunder", I thought to myself! Within a lap, sirens could be heard coming from different directions. Definitely two police cars, two fire trucks, and perhaps an ambulance. Silence followed and then another round of sirens. My alarm went off in the midst of it all, and we walked back to the condo. "Let's go and see what's happened", said my inquisitive daughter. "Like this?" I asked! I was wearing my swimsuit, with a t-shirt covering, of course, and a towel. My flip flops are not sturdy as they are merely for the pool. However, to satisfy her curiosity we went! Standing on the grass verge, outside my complex, I felt rather conspicuous. After all, I was not on a lunchtime stroll, obvious by my apparel. However, here in Austin, a strangely dressed older woman, wandering about on side of the road would attract no more attention than a filthy vehicle! "Can't see anything", said Samantha, who had retreated back into the complex and was standing behind the trees. "Must be thunder", I mused!
Raul had not heard the screech or the bang. However, he said it was almost a daily occurrence, as there are traffic lights at the bottom of the hill, which comes after a bend, and no one is expecting them! "Why did you go to look?" he asked, innocently. "Because she is nosey", we said in unison, fingers pointed!
We finished up the week on Friday, later than anticipated, and headed home. Samantha and Edward were at a wedding, and we were dog sitting. Dachshunds, like children, are all different. I have heard many people say, "It is the breed", when referring to similarities in pets. The same is with Dachshunds, albeit it is not the likeness but the inconsistencies! Having only experienced one other animal, Frank, of the same breed, they could not be more dissimilar!
Saturday morning I ventured out alone. I sat in my car and wondered how I was going to get across town. Not because I did not know the way, and not because I was alone, but because I could barely see out of the windows. I had cleaned them, (sort of,) when I filled up with petrol a few weeks earlier, but they had somehow become worse since Wednesday. It was time for action! The sagging of the interior would have to wait. We all sag when we get older, so I was sure that this previously, stunning model was just showing obvious signs of age. However, unlike a lady growing old gracefully, due to no fault of her own, she resembled a poor homeless person, who had no shelter, and no one to care for her in her old age. Bananas and a bottle of water were not going to be of any help to this aging beauty. (Yes, I am still talking about the car!) I headed north and weighed up my options. I did not have any gloves, and was wearing light pink, so washing her myself would have been viable after my shopping spree. I did not like that idea as it messed with routine, and I was already in a state of disarray due to the shower, weekend guest, shopping alone, etc., etc. Then, I spotted the perfect venue. A hand wash facility, where someone else does the hand wash! (Yes, the car!) I drove in, and waited. A car was trying to back out, but there was another car behind, and a truck parked at the only other exit. Had I made a mistake? It appears the first car wanted the 'full treatment', and the second just a wash, so they were swapping places. I remained in my vehicle. A young lady relieved me of $10 and I waited to be beckoned through. As I have said, I do not intend to use this site for advertising, but I cannot praise the facility enough. 'The Pits', is a small facility by a Chevron petrol station going 'up', (I think east, being geographically challenged,) on Parmer Lane in Austin. There, a plug! Not only did the staff use sprays and cloths, preferable to a car wash, but they dressed the tyres, and finished off with a wax, I tipped fairly handsomely as they really did clean the windows well, and I could now see!I drove to Walmart and as I got out, admired my beautiful 'old lady', who was gleaming in the sun, and if I were to be bold, I would suggest she was smiling. Perhaps a little saggy, (but then in my estimation she is 105,) and has a few age spots, (in the form of stone chips,) but still absolutely stunning!
I shopped and admired the car again as I dumped my groceries inside. "Love the braids", "Great hat", and "fabulous nails" were compliments I accepted with grace. "You should see my car!" I wanted to say! I told a 'regular promoter' at Costco, one who always comments that we are always together, that my daughter had abandoned me for her husband this weekend, and I think the humour was lost! "Are you Australian or from New Zealand?" he asked, as he invariably does. I hesitated. Not Spanish? "Y'all sound alike", he said. Yep, like you and the Canadians, I didn't say!
"Did you notice my car?" I asked Dana. "I noticed it was there when I got home", he said. "Wow", was the word used when we left to go out for dinner. Mission accomplished, I thought!
Now that I have found a place that will clean my car, inside and out, should I wish, I have no excuse for leaving her in such a sorry state. Rain is in the forecast for next week but I am hoping she will be tucked away during such an occurrence. I still have many more things to accomplish, but for now I shall just treat this as ....... another story!
No comments:
Post a Comment