Thursday, June 25, 2020

Nissan, Sentra GXE, 2002 – Green

This is a picture of a similar car in a dealership.
I could not have produced such a good shot from its 3 month spot in the back yard.
My car does have the same green shine which makes it
easy to find in the parking lot of a shopping mall.
The title above describes the new-to-me car, purchased back in February 28, 2020 -- 3 months ago.

Now I am ready to drive it.

After getting an inspection report for insurance purposes, Richard and I took it out for a spin.

 Destination: Costco.

Driving into the east, the setting sun had broken through the clouds, its rays splaying out in all directions. A hole in the universe. We turned north on Crowchild and dark lowering clouds were coming in. I wondered to Richard how far away that storm was. We were to find the answer by the time we got to Costco. There was no way we were going to have pelting rain fall on us, even to get into the building and most surely not to fall on us as we packed our groceries in the car. Instead Richard gassed the car up from a dry spot under the Costco Gas bar and we started home.

“Car isn’t going to need a wash,” remarked Richard, “this rain will have removed anything that was on the chassis.”

John Laurie is where the rain turn to pelting hail that was so strong that the windshield wipers could barely keep it off of the glass for us to see ahead of us. This is the stretch of highway along the perimeter of Nose Hill where Richard sometimes casually twists his head to look for deer in Owl Valley. We both only looked ahead and listened to the pelting of the hail on the car.

The tomato plants were beaten down when we got home. The green tendrils of the hop vines have been snapped off. I don’t know how the radishes will do. They had only poked their heads through the ground. Mati just put the beets the raised garden beds a few days ago, so those seeds will have loved the good soak. There is no chance the beets will have the number of days they need to mature since they are only planted now.

Still, hope springs eternal in Mati’s heart … and mine. He has planted cucumbers under the peonies and some in the black dirt beside the hops. I told him that is called guerilla gardening.

Arta


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