The car needs servicing, the annoying reminder to
get the oil changed lights up each time the engine is started. Unfortunately, my husband promised I could make it to the city dealership before 9 am.
Our four-wheel drive is always dirty; it comes from
driving on a rough gravel road. There’s no excuse for the rubbish inside the car though, and mostly it
is my rubbish. And, if it’s messy inside they won’t clean that
part. Out go lolly papers, receipts, plastic bags and teaching things;
including fourteen picture books carpeting the floor.
Still warm and bright at 7 pm, the sun hasn’t set
yet. I leave the back door open, carting in junk, hats, sunscreen and drink
containers from the car. Walking back, I see a blue flash.
A Superb Fairy Wren flits past.
Oops, it’s in the house.
The black and blue blob makes himself more black
and blue trying to escape the glass
ceiling. When he can’t penetrate the double glazing he flies lower, veering
into the hall.
Daughter comes to the rescue, waving hands to redirect
it outside.
I open the laundry window, flapping my own arms like a mechanical bird. Fairy
boy flits between us, panicking.
And, he’s out.
‘Fly my
pretty, fly, be free.’
I’m exhilarated he made it out.
And, I didn’t get that look from my husband.
The one that implies I’m a mad old bird.
Adding to the ‘out
of the blue’ encounter with a fairy-wren last night, I was second in line at
the mechanics. Arriving at 8:35 am was perfect timing.
I asked the guys if they wouldn’t mind cleaning inside the car.
They promised to try; then dropped me off at the closest shopping centre.
Wolfing down raspberries and 2 huge frothy coffees while doing a four hour shop was pretty good. The car yard called
and came to chauffeur me back. That’s when I did a double take, thinking this was the wrong vehicle.
They washed, vacumed,
detailed, even painted tyre black on the wheels. Our car had its glow back on. I can use my reversing camera
again, and see out every window.
There’s cleaning fluid in the window
washers. Plus, a cross between new car
smell and light floral scent
on my dash. The car hasn’t looked this good since we bought it.
It’s superb; just like last night’s wren.
A four hour shop!!??!
ReplyDeleteI'm a woman Steve, I could shop till I drop (or my feet go numb) at least six days a week, maybe even seven. Four hours is nothing - I love it even though it is probably a mild addiction, just like bird watching.
ReplyDeleteNice bllog post
ReplyDelete