Wednesday, February 16, 2011

So Haki's away on business again

I sent these with him:
They are love pills.
a.k.a. orange flavoured Vitamin C.

Haki flew out Valentine's Day, you see. For two weeks. The affixed label prescribes a pill be taken when missing one's loved one. To my way of thinking, he should OD on the things within an hour...but I'm guessing he'll pace himself, being a sensible adult, 'n' all.
So yes, away again.

But my parents are visiting from the North Island.
Read: It's not just a pregnant lady, her toddler and a giant baseball bat occupying our house.

Not only are they here, they are waving magic fixing wands everywhere they go.

Thus far, my father has repaired/improved/fixed:
  • The kitchen table. I had put the legs on the wrong way. /forehead slap
  • A drop-leaf cupboard door. I'd used screws that were too long when I repaired it.
  • Esky's wooden trolley. I screwed one wheel and one moving part on crooked...and drilled out the screws so it was impossible (for me) to remove them.
  • Our Bluray player. Did you know if you don't have an HDMI cable, you're just watching DVDs? And they don't even come with the player!
  • My lappy. Because I have patched in a number of programmes with my Windows 7, I had a few errors that displayed when I launched things. No longer.
  • The laundry's outside drain. Unblocked.
  • Our printer. Cleaned.
  • Our friend's sewing machine, unjammed...
  • ...and their piano. The sustain wasn't working.
  • My MIL's toilet. It was running. Nonstop.
  • The front door draught stopper. Bent out of place.
  • The tyre swing. Tied with aforementioned granny knots, no more.
  • My bedroom vanity mirror. Sticker remains from previous owner/s were removed with a razor blade.
  • A multi-plug's positioning. No longer mounted with nails, but those screws with the plastic anchors.
And those are the things I know about.
Tambourines and treacle tarts, that list makes it sound like our house is where inanimate objects come to die.
I'm fairly motivated when it comes to getting things done. But I'm not very skilled.

My mother has spent days in the garden;
  • Weeding.
  • Pruning.
  • Shaping.
  • Digging.
  • Scraping.
  • Transplanting.
  • Raking.
  • Cleaning.
  • Clearing.
  • Discovering.
  • Explaining.
  • Planning.
  • Sweeping.
  • Carrying.
And she helps with the dishes.

Plus, Esky has two willing story-readers when I'm making dinner.

So while I miss the smile and smell of my favourite squeeze...
...I'm not exactly roughin' it here.


Yes, I did make sure my parents had the same number of bullets.
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