Birthday girl

This morning I felt able to sit comfortably enough to get the 61 bus to Splott to collect the Polo from the garage and drive it back again. It was a pleasure to get out and do this. The window winder and door locking fault seemed something of a mystery to the mechanic who worked on it. They had a spare driver-side winder mechanism from a comparable scrap car, and it worked a treat, activating the central locking system perfectly, instead of acting as it it was a passenger side winder and lock mechanism. Perhaps at some time or another it had been swapped over, but finally broken. Anyway, it's been fixed now, and very kindly at no cost to us.

After stopping at Lidl's to stock up on a few items I missed out on earlier in the week, I went home and cooked a stir fry for lunch. John our plumber came by to see what he could do about the short plastic overflow pipe under the sink which has cracked as if perished in several places. How this occurred in a confined space where it's subjected to no movement stress and not exposed to sunlight is inexplicable.

I walked to Riverside Surgery for another wound dressing this afternoon, while Clare was out at a physical therapy appointment. Both of us require regular maintenance outings to keep us functional these days.

Sister June is eighty four today. I rang to sing her Happy Birthday and we chatted for ages. I think she's in better shape than the Edwardian building she lives in, long ago converted into flats, showing its age, and suffering from a selection of owners or sub tenants who seem indifferent to problems with the property's condition, or everyday safety and security of its occupants. 

I wish she'd move, but she's determined to stay and complain to the property management company about discharging their contractual obligations, wit well informed and detailed emails. Working on drawing up plans for engineers and architects for much of her career means that she has acquired a fair amount of technical expertise about buildings, expertise she still relishes using, since her mind is as sharp as ever. 

Thankfully, she can still get out and walk to the shops, although she's not quite as fit and spritely as she'd like to be since having replacement knees. Wandsworth Common where she lives, is a fairly safe area, but life is made precarious for elderly pedestrians by the presence of cycle riders with whom they are obliged to share the sometimes narrow and uneven pavements. It'll be a long while before public realm areas are reshaped by the local Council to accommodate safely both cyclists and walkers. Meanwhile it's elderly and vulnerable people who have to suffer, and cyclists who get the media attention.