Bailing is not an option
My decision to replace the weather station battery last evening was timely. If I had neglected my duty for another day, I’d have no record of today’s rainfall (other than the memory of spending the morning at work, damp). But it no longer matters; the sun has returned. For the next few days, the probs are positive, and the pool repair team now forecasts a visit on the weekend. Before then, I have to remove about 4 kilogallons (an alternate measurement to the usual litres).
My offer to put son #3 in the centre of the action with a bucket was declined. Plan #2 will include an electric pump. Tomorrow.
I’m back to dreaming about the next house. I know the where. The when has been reinforced by a statement from CARRA (it’s complicated, and you have to live here to even care). Not my statement, but I’m a willing participant in the long range goals. No, the big question is about style.
The idea of a yurt has been rejected. Ditto for something soddish. We want a real house, but it should come from a store that has a factory source. The local newspaper profiled a local company, but the delivery question wasn’t broached. Not even on their website. Guess we’ll be looking at the other local – something with real Maritime roots. And a Maritime styling.
The shipyard that will not go away is back in the news. Could someone check with zombie experts, and see if a bunch of wooden stakes might be equal to the task. Surveyor stakes. After all, that riverfront property is suited to the next big condo farm.
