Four lines of prose about: the garage.
Busy day today. All that sunshine made it all good. Did some more pruning in the morning. About ready for that to be done, but there are still lots of trees left.
Took the car into a local garage this afternoon to get something looked at. I had taken it in to a dealership in December to get inspected before the warranty ran out, and the only thing they'd found was an issue that wasn't urgent but would cost about $200 to get fixed. I wanted the guys, who I trust, at this garage to look at it to see if it had gotten any worse, and to find out how much it would cost for them to take care of it.
They said they could do it for $100. And then took a look at it. And proceeded to tell me that there was nothing wrong with it and I had nothing to worry about. This is the same place we bought our winter tires, by the way. They have my car business for life now.
Oh, and then after I got back we did our first planting in the big garden. Hurray for sunshine!
"There's no boxes, no dust-covered sports equipment, no long-forgotten pieces of memorabilia... I'm so confused."
I looked at my neighbour out of the corner of my eye and found no words to say. It was like he'd never seen a garage before.
"There's just... a car."