Saturday February 16, 2008
To Stroud yesterday with Graham, to collect his latest eBay win–a vintage Thorens TD126 Mk III turntable.
Occasional motorway and strange towns driving practice is a good thing for me these days. Even with Jane [my TomTom in-car satnav device] to guide me, I don’t find navigating very easy. Nothing totally new about that–I was always getting lost in my younger days. The difference now is that I tend to worry about it. Just a little.
The turntable was fine, a true bargain, and the guy selling it was another semi-professional eBayer, earning a decent slice of pin-money at it. I’ll not be at all surprised if Graham turns his hand to this avenue, among others, when the house move is settled. I don’t think he much fancies working for anyone else after the holiday camp experience. I confess the idea of beetling around Wales to attend house sales and auctions appeals to me.
The return leg of the journey started out at lunch time so I whined and cajoled a stop at a motorway service station for a bite. Bad choice. The ‘hot food’ counter displayed a series of over-cooked nasties on over-heated hotplates, looking like nothing so much as a line of steaming cow-flops.
“I don’t think I could eat any of this,” I said, mournfully.
“Well, just this once, let’s do a happy mac-burger meal.”
It was a safe choice, and really quite reasonable quality. Even so, it cost more than I’ve ever spent on a burger meal for two.
“We’d have done better to go into that nice-looking pub we passed,” I said.
“Perhaps next time.”
It’s no surprise of course that Graham should be a little jaded when it comes to pub lunches just now. He’s practically lived on pub lunches this past year.
I’d not want to live on them but I do like ‘em now and again as a treat, particularly the carvery kind of meal. That “Perhaps next time” line is encouraging.
It was good to get back home in the warm. Dolly greeted us with her usual “Oh, have you been out?” line but was soon persuaded that a thorough cuddle and snuggle was a good idea and we all settled down for a small siesta before starting out on the evening.
Oh, have you been out?”
People watching: The motorway service station carpark was populated by a horde of police, out on some kind of exercise. I sort of hoped to be stopped and searched by some good-looking young officer all adorned with para-military accoutrements. No such luck. He gave me a disinterested glance and waved us on. Then, in Sainsbury’s at the check-out, a grumpy old couple moaning because I had my eight items in a trolley in a basket-only queue; I turned round to face them, leaning on my walking stick, and asked sweetly if they’d like to carry my shopping for me. They declined.
We’ve come up with a shortlist of three estate agents and I have their names and numbers on a new note pad ready for next week. Graham goes off to the holiday camp today for the Valentine’s Ball–the last ever over-night stay! I suspect that his determination to get on with the house move will be redoubled by the time he comes home tomorrow.
Nothing like a redoubled determination when you need to get things done.
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