Got a ticket to my destination
On a tour of one-night stands
My suitcase and guitar in hand
And every stop is neatly planned
For a poet and a one-man band
Funny how song lyrics always burst into my mind when it's idle. The first two lines to that Paul Simon song above should start;
I'm sittin' in the car showroom
Waitin' for my car to be serviced
I know it doesn't rhyme but you can't have everything. Cars take up so much valuable time. When you aren't driving them you seem to be having them repaired or serviced or you are cleaning and washing them
But I suppose the good thing is that I had a couple of hours to spare whilst I waited for it to be serviced after the warning light about changing oil kept coming on. So I treated it to an oil change. Is there no end to my generosity? The answer you are looking for is "no".
All was good with the car apart from a rather strange thing. I used a gizmo to open the doors but they can also be opened by a key if the gizmo stops working. The keyhole or whatever it's called should be underneath the door handle but on mine it's above. They couldn't understand how this had come about. I suggested they could take the doors off and turn them upside down but then of course the windows would be at the bottom of the door. I was actually only joking. I think I can live with this fault.
*. *. *
Yesterday I went to a charity shop in Wymondham and indulged myself in my latest hobby - reading the back of postcards. There was a boxful of them from all over the world.
They were all addressed to the same couple at an address in Buckinghamshire or some such county. The couple must have been much loved to warrant a shoe box full of postcards from America, Australia and many other places.
It made me ponder on what the couple are/were like, where are they now? Are they still alive? Who gave the postcards to a charity place in Wymondham etc. I love this kind of thing. Will probably never find the answers and not sure I'm even that bothered. It just activated the little grey cells for a short while.
And as they say
Life is a cabaret old chum.
But back to the car. Whilst I was sitting on quite a plush leather sofa in the showroom mechanics are talking in code. They are referring to P codes and Y codes and other things I don't understand.
Meanwhile there's some modern music rattling around the speakers. It's half intrusive and half not. But the thing I do note is the repetitive nature of the lyrics. I know younger people of today have limited attention spans but the continual repetition to enforce a message is very annoying. I just want it to stop and it soon did as I paid the bill.
*. *. *
In Wymondham myself and Cousin Belinda paid another visit to the Grazie and Jakes coffee shop in Ayton Road. I think the smoothie I had was the best ever. It was choc full of fruit. I definitely got most of my five a day. The smoothie included BOBA pearls/bombs. I had no idea what these were but soon found out as I was furnished with a large straw through which the bombs could be sucked up. The skill for me was to keep the bombs in the mouth as long as possible before they burst. So for those who have never tried them, here is a description of Boba pearls.
Boba pearls, also known as tapioca pearls, are primarily made from tapioca starch, which is derived from the cassava root. The basic ingredients for making boba pearls include tapioca starch, water, and usually a sweetener like brown sugar, which is added for colouring and a subtle sweetness. So now you know.
I suggest if you are in the area you just try one for yourself.
There's quite a backstory to the coffee shop. I won't relay it here but just Google the name of the shop if you want to read how the shop rose from a personal tragedy.
Enough for today, no more they cried.