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Repairmen are much on my mind these days. [1] Yesterday I took a break from my efforts to resuscitate the now-defunct fridge to take a dip in the backyard cement pond. [2] It’s hard to float about the pool in when all around me there are ‘work to be done’ tasks. I hope to hear soon from Hector, the groundskeeper. Hector pops up from time to ask if we need any work done. The answer is always yes. As he does this impromptu (and wants to be paid in cash) the chances Someone is at home with sufficient funds is low; he often tells Hector no, some other time. We agree Hector would get more work out of us if he came regularly but no such luck. We could get a new grounds keeper – one who comes weekly and accepts major credit cards. Alas, getting Someone to change services (or have cash on hand for Hector) is no small task. An obstinate adherence to an obstinate custom is tedious. [3]

Arrangements for repairmen are a complicated endeavor at the House of Spo. It’s easy for me to announce to The Boss Man I ain’t coming in it tomorrow but this has consequences: 20-30 patients suddenly have their long-awaited appointment pulled out from under them, causing lamentations loud enough to resemble an orchestra of scorched cats. Then there is the dreadful anticipation whether or not the fellow will show up at the time expected or at all.  [4]

On the positive note, Aaron The Pool Guy comes regularly like  on Fridays to tend the cement pond. Every time I go into its limpid task-free waters I send up into the cosmos a prayer of thanksgiving for him and his industry.

Let’s see if ‘Mr. Appliance’ sends us an Aaron or another Hector  – or worse, Godot.

You all will be the first to know.

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[1] I use the word repairman rather than repair person as I have never seen a female repairperson. I find this a bit odd as women are very good at rolling up their sleeves to fix messes especially ones made by the men-folk.

[2] It’s been bit ‘cool’ this last week; the pool has gone back to being a bit on the chilly side. It is amazing how a large amount of water takes so long to warm up but dissipates its warmth literally overnight.

[3] My best bud Charles Dickens said this about the bureaucracy that was thwarting fixing Westminster Palace in the 1830s. While members of Parliament endlessly bickered about what to do and how to do it, the building caught fire and burned down. There’s a metaphor here.

[4] This week is probably not a good time to point out to Someone I spent all weekend cleaning the house (and none too well) and I want to hire someone to do this.

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