MOLLY IS BACK IN HER FOXHOLE:
Well, in case my fans and enemies haven't gathered Corporal Molly is back in her foxhole at the front. Almost a week to be exact. It takes little time for a paranoid mind to get used to a city where cars don't stop for pedestrians, unlike out in Victoria. To be honest I could never get used to the idea that some son-of-a-bitch wasn't ready to gun it and run me down, just like here in my home territory. Here you look both ways before crossing the street, run like hell to the middle, catch your breath and repeat the process providing there is no traffic either way. I will also have to get used to the less than benign presence of "street demons" here, but that is easy as my pissed off button is very near the surface. Quite frankly I have always (I've been in Victoria before) had a hard time adjusting to the idea that threat is not the best way of dealing with street demons. In Victoria they have better manners than the average Winnipeger, non-demon Winnipeger that is.
Let's say slightly that I and what one wag has called "Mrs Molly" enjoyed our stay our there immensely. It's a great place, even though a bit "crowded" for my taste. We liked the bars. Hell. I even found 'Murphy's Stout' on tap, something you could never find here at the ends of the Earth. Winnipeg actually has a few "pubs", rather than sleazy bars, and we may even have our own (one) micro-brewery now. This puts us on the same level as Regina which should be a great matter of shame.
Molly drove up to Nanaimo to visit Comrade Larry and was properly impressed by the scenery along the way. Many photos were taken. I was even more impressed by the hospitality that I received from Larry and Rosie. I also found out that Nanaimo was a neat little city with a very vibrant anarchist community. Many thanks to L and R.
So here we arrived back in Winnipeg. Open the door. Cling, cling. cling comes loud from the basement. Appreciate that Molly's house was built in 1929, and the water heat furnace is from the original. Oh Fucking Jesus. At least the place hasn't burnt down. The problem is a water pump that is attached to the furnace, and a spring connector on it. Click, click,click. Check, check check. It's a few days later that I call Winnipeg Supply and have the pump fixed. This is because, to my utter amazement, despite the fact that the pump is fucked we still have heat and hot water. It gets shoved down the priority list.
Meanwhile the wife tries to start her car. Dead as a doornail. Now...I've always been happy to screw around with cars. Furnaces I won't touch with a ten foot pole., I pull up the hood on the wife's car. Jesus H. Christ !!! I have never seen such an accumulation of copper sulfate on a battery in my life. Now Molly is from from Saskatchewan, and I swear that there was enough bluestone to sterilize about 3 dugouts. Screwdriver and baking soda go to work. I get the mess cleaned up and boost the wife's battery. Vroom, vroom.
Piss and Jesus. MY car goes dead. Click, click,click. Fuck,fuck,fuck.. We do a back boost and the machine is working fine. With great circling the wife drives off to get her battery charged by driving. I take off elsewhere. Stop at the pharmacy to pick up my nicotine lozenges. Come out. Click, click, click. God knows what my blood pressure was then.
Up goes the hood. Bang, bang,bang, Twist,twist, twist. Vroom, vroom. vroom. I never knew before that you could screw up your battery connections just by giving somebody a boost. Live and learn. Oh God do I hate machinery.
Welcome back to Winnipeg. Actually I don't mind it as much as it may seem. It is far better than Saskatchewan, espcially Regina where I "served" 14 years. Back to decorating the yard for Halloween. Such is my more or less boring personal life. Mechanical disasters are great events. I gues it's better than noting bites from Rottweillers.