Once again I took up residency in the garage and have been mostly occupied with cleaning the Royal Enfield Trials special.
It is going to take a good few days to polish up the tarnished metal work, so I am just going to have to suck it up, and put my nose to the proverbial grindstone. I realise that it is going to make my Journal entries somewhat samey, but it could be worse; I could be documenting my working life prior to retirement.
Also, remember, there may be an interlude, but I'll need to do the same for the Honda, when it is eventually discharged from the workshop.
So that was how I spent Tuesday. The fingers of my right hand are aching from hours of polishing and my finger tips are stained black from a mixture of metal polish and aluminium oxide.
We did have some unsettling news today.
Over the weekend 30%'s old friend, Pinky contacted her to advise that she had ended up in hospital with a suspected twisted bowel. It seems that an operation to correct the problem has not been successful, and a second surgery was required. Further complications have followed and she is now in intensive care with a pessimistic prognosis.*
30% is, understandably, unsettled by this, and headed off to support Pinky's mother this evening. The poor woman is well in to her eighties and has no family living locally to provide support.
We are both afraid that this is a case of hoping for the best, whilst preparing for the worst.
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* 30% was alerted to Pinky's deterioration by Pinky's ex-husband
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