2015 — 22 July: Wednesday
Nearly 24 hours after my sibling's departure1 I shudder to think that his journey will still only place him somewhere over the Pacific. He's already clocked up more air-mileage than I drive in a year putting all that distance between us. The thought of him being stuck in one of those heavier-than-air things for a full day and a night while I sit here enjoying the fresh air and supping my morning cuppa certainly makes for quite a contrast. Ho hum.
Oh well; I have a fast to break and a walk to walk, preferably before the next batch of heavenly water hits the ground. And before he gently touches down in Auckland, for that matter. Then there's the omnipresent matter of some further food supplies, and a cobweb or two (million) draped around all the untouched stuff deep within my garage that now needs not only to be touched, but relocated. Where the heck do I park my broom these days, I wonder?
The garage in March 2007
This is what it looked like midway through the last tidy-up the pair of us carried out together. Much of the stuff currently there (not visible here, of course) came back with Junior from York University, and has lain unperturbed since then. Click the pic to see the full horror:
Actually, it's not quite all horror. What's that I can see on the floor underneath the right hand shelf unit?
Yes! Spare roof tiles. I just knew Christa had safely tucked some away somewhere, I just didn't remember where. So now maybe I can finally get the occasional leak into the books warehouse fixed. That only manifests itself — courtesy of a broken tile — during heavy rain combined with a strong wind from the North East.
I shall have to take another photo before I actually start the project I shall call "Garage tidy-up, 2015". Now, how about that breakfast?
Rise of the Robots
The John Markoff conversation here is the usual brand of "Edge" stuff. It fizzes with grand ideas and dizzying assertions. I remain unconvinced. What about food? Drinking water? Health? Education? Living space? Nary a mention, but it's what most people on this planet contend with, every day.
Return of the Rambler
After a tad over 6.2 miles, but almost entirely dodging any of the rain showers. It was rather humid. I shall now down an extremely necessary cuppa and a light bite of lunch before scouring the shelves of my foody shop. Then I can start thinking either about ways and means of persuading my printer back into service or about those two shelves at the far end of my garage. There's an irreducible amount of stuff-shifting going to be needed before I can actually get to them. And the question is: where can I shift that stuff to?
I would (naturally) like to answer "Junior's room, of course!" were it not already more than well-filled with stuff (mostly) from his house. To the point where it's no longer brilliant accommodation for sleeping visitors other than very close relatives!
OMG!
Or, in less yoof-oriented terms, cue the phrase: "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never have believed it." Care to hazard a guess? Right at the bottom of the heap, far back in the right hand corner. It's my Acorn StrongARM RISC-PC.
I thought that had joined the Choir Invisible long, long ago. Mind you, I also found her Kenwood Chef, or Moulinex, or whatever the heck it is. I tell you, it was like breaking into the Tomb of the Mummy. Still, I separated the two pieces of steel shelving, re-measured the length available by having just one shelf there, and will now be good to go if I simply discard all the other stuff I've been hauling out of hiding. Junior has some explaining to do. By 18:30 I started to lose the will to live, and simply shut the garage door on the mess. So, for the time being, the Yaris is now once more parked outside on my drive. Just like 98% or so of the other cars hereabouts.
Big Bro is now safely home.