Here today and gone tomorrow! How things change.
One day last week I filled the car at our local petrol station. It’s a Total, so the petrol is relatively cheap (if you can say such a thing about petrol) roughly the same price as Tesco. Of course, you don’t get Tesco clubcard points there, but the fact that you don’t have to wait for hours in a huge queue, more than compensates.
Imagine my distress when, as I was driving past the very next day, I noticed that the petrol station was closed. Barriers across all the entrances, and heavy machinery already uprooting the pumps. I suppose it was always on the cards, as the accompanying Little Chef closed months ago, but I hadn’t expected it, not a word was said the previous day and I hadn’t even heard about it on the jungle telegraph.
However, it seems the petrol station will re-open, when it has somehow mysteriously metamorphosed into Shell (more expensive, no clubcard points, not even Nectar points.) Rumour has it that the Little Chef will also re-open, with a botox facelift magically identifying it as MacDonalds, although how that will encourage more customers is anybody’s guess. Just outside Norwich, and only half an hour or so from Yarmouth, it just doesn’t seem to be in the right place to catch casual custom making for the beach.
Is it my age that gives me a pang when I regret these changes, or is it the probable hit on my wallet? OK, I don’t care what sort of petrol I buy, but I do like to find the cheapest possible, I do like it to be local, and I don’t like queuing.
I think that says it all.
How strange! Yesterday we awoke to bright sunshine and birds singing, today we’re back to the dreary downpour which depressed us all (apart from gardeners, farmers, all horticulturists, and those who realise we need rain because we like to eat from time to time) throughout April.
Actually, yesterday’s bright sunshine was the second time we awoke. The first time – just before 5.00am – was to hear the rain indoors. We had a flood in the kitchen which seemed to be coming from the washing machine (and no, we hadn’t left it on at night, nor any other appliances) in the most awkward spot imaginable.
The washing machine has been in its slot for so long that it seemed to be stuck to the floor, it was that difficult to shift. We managed eventually, only to discover that the flood was nothing to do with the washing machine but coming from some invisible place, and impossible to reach because hidden behind an inaccessible cupboard.
After a brief panic when neither of us could remember where the relevant tap was, Ian located it in the bathroom and turned off the water. I got busy with a mop and bucket and cleared the floor.
Then we went back to bed.
The second time we awoke to bright sunshine and singing birds, called the plumber who advertised in the church magazine, discovered he lived about five minutes away and would be with us directly.
He was.
He found the problem (something had broken on the in-pipe – or something like that), replaced the faulty piece, soldered something onto something else for good measure, and was done and dusted within the hour. Magic!
It left us free to enjoy the rest of the day, so we went visiting. There’s nothing better than visiting old friends you haven’t seen for a year or so. We had a lovely afternoon drinking tea and chatting over old times with one friend, then dropped in on another who was living in the vicinity and was surprised (but I hope, pleased) to see us.
Today, since the rain has stopped while I’ve been writing, we’re off to Norwich on the bus and are going to treat ourselves to lunch at Prezzo. And as we’re retired with nothing better to do, we may take in a film as well.
It’s not bad, this life of ours.