Day 254

Late to bed last night, too late, as usual, when A is working a late shift. I can’t get into the habit of going to bed as soon as she gets home (picked up by us, usually, because a cab would wipe out half her night’s earnings, and walking home is not an option). Late out of bed this morning as a result. Then discussion with Marty as to whether we on Radio Stradbroke should go back to normal programming or carry on with the loop of “respectful” music we’re playing right now (and have been since Thursday evening) or if we should start live broadcasts again but tone it down a bit (I’m guessing that applies particularly to me who plays very loud and disrespectful – to all and every one – music). As I write we still haven’t decided what to do. It’s a difficult balance, although out listenership of course is nowhere near that of national radio stations.

Then I tried to finish the job I’d started yesterday of clearing the garage, putting in at least halfway hardboard walls (Lord, that stuff is expensive although it’s cheaper than wood), seeing if Madge would start (which she did third time after M and I had spent half an hour trying to get the last of the four tyre valve caps off, and after M had spent an age very kindly washing her with water from one of the water butts), and taking her for a short spin. Then trying to get her into the garage – exhaust scraped on the concrete threshold, alarmingly so. So we pondered if we should mix up some of the spare cement and make the ramp into the garage longer and shallower. WE went for the more vicious approach – hacking bits off the concrete threshold. M took over from me fairly quickly, and it was quite frightening how much she enjoyed this job of destruction with heavy hammer (metal mallet, basically) and two chisels (one pointy and one sharp but with an edge). Hole in threshold done, Madge rolled into the garage with no problems.

And M managed to wash a load of clothes (I’m not allowed near the machine), bake two lemon breakfast cakes (like I had in Crete and which she’s been baking ever since), as well as a massive chocolate tray bake like she used to bake in Norway. I am, basically, married to a marvel.

AGGIE’S ART OF HAPPINESS – CHAPTER 207