Transplant test
Sometime, just after dawn, I girded up my emotions and waved goodbye. The car is now at destination, and I’m busy putting order in the debris. Simple stuff; loads of laundry, bags of the bits left behind on desktops and in drawers. A year in the life.
I will recover some personal space, when all is over. A chance to unpack the radios and the instruments; toys for the boy. A start to the idyllic third stage of my own life, where I produce for my satisfaction, not that of an employer. Still, I wasn’t really ready to begin. Can we rewind the film, sir?
On my list of real time things for today, a session of transplanting tomato vines. They’re a little long, but if I can get some colder nights, they’ll harden up. You see; I do remember what I learned from the Harpers, back in my greenhouse days. I’d moved on from that stage, given that vegetables are on sale in the local markets, and flowers will grow almost everywhere. Now, a revision. If the plants don’t wither, I’ll consider my test as “passed”.
For what seems like a long time, we’ve had to live without a light in our refrigerator freezer compartment. The definition of a “first world problem”. Today, with time on my hands, I cut the power to the box, unloaded the frozen goods onto a nearby counter, and tried to reinstall the fixture. Takes a camera to see what I’m doing. The plastic unit is too badly damaged to reuse, so now I’m hunting for a replacement part. It’s available online, but the weak dollar and shipping charges turn a simple idea into an expensive one. As an alternate plan, I contacted the dealer; he can’t find the part in his catalogue (after less than one year), so the American dream may be the only one available.
