A day just like any other, it is difficult to note the difference in the days when they all start in the same despondent way. At least breakfast is a spot of light on the otherwise dark humour at the beginning of the day. The day is spent doing things that can be forgotten, going out and buying earth for the plants to prevent them from starving in their tiny pots. Going out for a cup of coffee in the cafe. It is al an escape from boredom, is it not.
At the supermarket with its overpriced earth for potted plants buy a plastic sack with thirty litres content. this seems the most sensible. Meet up with the old man from Argentina, he has bought three tangerines.
There is no indication as to why, perhaps he likes tangerines.
Return home, the son is there trying to repair a computer. It does not appear to be as easy as he had planned. That is too bad. Fill up the pots with earth and water all of those strange palms that the tenant had had in her office. It is strange that she is gone now.
Spend the evening trying to make the old school clock work again. After much careful inspection and oiling, two minor corrections and the cleaning of a few contacts, the device seems to function once more.
To cheer up a bit it will be necessary to go to the pub this evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment