One guess where we went to (again) on the weekend. The last visit (for the air shipment?) was during the week, until it was pointed out to us that these folks are there “24/7”. I suppose it would be a cushy job, but judging by the trickle of people going in to the building, I’d hazard a guess that boredom would be the bigger problem.
This picture that I quite haphazardly took out of the car window of the Canada Customs building pretty much sums it up. They’re out in the middle of practically nowhere at the Toronto airport, in a non-descript building, with *nothing* within walking distance.
Anyway, what this means is, our shipment is in Montreal, and as soon as the moving company receives this stamped document, we’ll have a garage full of ‘stuff’. We’re pretty much full up in the ‘stuff’ department, which is why a certain amount of it will be in the garage until we can figure it all out. I can *hardly* wait! (insert sarcastic font)
Daughter Number One seems to think she can take at least one of the wardrobes and shove it in their basement. Being new home owners (well, under two years) they’re still trying to sort out where to keep their ‘stuff’. They’re pretty good at purging from time to time, so it’s really just a matter of having a place to put winter clothes and otherwise being able to put things away.
We may be able to foist off a couple things to Daughter Number Two, but they’re going to be going through some withdrawal pains from what I would consider some sort of “larger fish bowl syndrome”. I think I foresee at least one garage sale in our/their future. Time will tell.
Meanwhile, I took a couple minutes today to get reacquainted with a new/old friend. Just can’t bear to toss out those over ripe bananas.
And with my new/old friend, it’s mind numbingly simple. Doesn’t hurt that I almost know the recipe off by heart either. Because I mean, you need to know this, right?
Other than that, we’re just waiting for spring here in the Great White North. Supposed to go up above the freezing mark in a day or two. I’m almost giddy. I need to get out and trim back the grape vine at the front of the house before too many days go by. One year I waited a bit too long and the “sap” was already running. *Eeep* That wasn’t good. The grape vine survived, but I was a wee bit nervous that I just might have done some irrevocable damage. That thing was leaking like a sieve. The house wouldn’t look the same without a grape vine growing in the front.
I suppose it’s kind of like having racoon prints on the soffits, although I’ve managed to keep those buggers out for at least twenty years now. No more room at “Chez Caretaker” I’m afraid. I wouldn’t wish those guests on anyone. It’s like having smelly old men in overcoats in your attic. Crappin’ everywhere to boot.
I’m just going to throw in this one last pic for a gentleman I know who was a previous Mercedes owner. I’m pretty sure that, back when he had his string of Mercs, you could actually check the oil in those things. Not any more…
And that may very well be just why he’s a “previous” owner?? Let’s not talk about it.
That’s right kids, there’s a place to put the oil in, but there’s no way to check it.
Not a dipstick in sight. Well, except for maybe the guy at the wheel. Don’t go there.
And you know, I had heard about this from one of my sister’s old friends (“old” as in “older than me”, and “old” as in “we’ve known this guys since the seventies”) when he leased a brand new Merc maybe over a decade ago, and was astonished to find that he couldn’t check his own oil. I know it has a bunch of sensors, but once in a while a feller just likes to take a look? It’s a hard habit to break, and I’m not even a gear head.
No doubt the oil is refined from “unobtanium” as well. I can just hardly wait for that first oil change. (nervous laughter)
Oh, and it’s a V-6. I was asked this question, and I honestly had nary a clue. It’s a sad thing to admit, but there you have it. I didn’t even bother looking under the hood. The thing is almost brand new, has only 40,000 clicks on it (that’s a sideways way of saying “kilometres”, by the way) and is barely broken in, so I wasn’t even going to fuss over what was in there. When I open the throttle, it goes. The only thing we DO know is, it takes premium fuel. Swell.
That’s my feeble effort for today. If anything else drops into my noggin’, I’ll let you know.
Keep it between the ditches.
Thanks for stopping in.