No more unexpected flipping of the plans
As surely as nature abhors a vacuum, politicians detest sharing the special kind of power that they enjoy. The writ was dropped, this morning, and we’re off for another thirty-three days of provincial angst. So many words, so little coherent thought.
The first poster was already hanging from a local lightpole by 06h45 this morning. Oddly, the premier hadn’t yet visited the LG; premature wins in the battle for prime “hanging points”. Yes, it’s against the law. No, there’ll be no penalty. The whole “nudge nudge wink wink” game. I don’t particularly care, just so long as they remember to collect their debris next month.
At work, it wasn’t even on the list of interesting subjects. We’re blasé about elections; too many, and yet not enough.
Last evening, for the first time, the principal interested parties sat down and discussed important things: how many bathrooms and how large a space for laundry services. We’re underway on our own campaign, to renew our house. Elsewhere. Lots of options, carefully interleaved with the reality of pricing. We know (sort of) what we want. We know (sort of) how much we can afford. Now; turn that into a rational choice.
I pushed for some visual aids (pedagogues are like that). A small piece of paper, representing the house, placed on a larger piece of paper, representing the size of the field of dreams. We’re going to have enough room! This time around, the only flipping of blueprints will be by us, not an obscure clause in the Civil Code referring to proximity to the neighbour.
