"Jump"

While Hannelie and the kids were in Cape Town I had two jobs to do. (Two, that is, that were specifically requested by Hannelie. I'm not counting my day job, domestic activities, looking after guests, cooking Christmas lunch and so on.)

The first of these related to feeding the cats and I am pleased to announce that after three weeks of my care both are still alive, each carrying its centre of gravity considerably lower than one might expect from an animal that should be classed as a predator. (Mind you, I expect that they might say the same about me. You know, if they could talk.)

The second task was to turn on Hannelie's car every few days to prevent the battery getting flat. On the second night Hannelie was away, her next door neighbour rang me to say that her satnav was on in the car and, if I could tell him where the spare car keys were, he'd nip 'round and turn it off to stop it draining the battery. Surprising myself, I was able to tell him, he set off to do it and later rang back to report mission accomplished and that the car had started, first time.

This may have lulled me into a false sense of security because it was only about a week or so later, just after Christmas, that I thought to check the battery was still fit and well. It wasn't. However, I reasoned that now it was flat, there was no point in sorting the problem out immediately. Better, in fact, to wait until just before Hannelie retuned and, therefore, not have to worry about it going flat again. Cunning.

Predictably then, given that the Cape Town contingent returned today, last night I ended up making a panicky 'phone call to Izzy - currently the primary driver of the girls' car - to see if she could leave her keys at the house when she came to school the this morning, so I could manoeuvre that small vehicle into the gap between Hannelie's car and the fence on the drive.

It was, I have to say, a good bit of driving by me and, on the second attempt, I managed to get close enough to the fence to allow me to open the driver's side door without denting Hannelie's car, thus obviating the need for a Dukes off Hazzard style exit via the window. Now all that was required was to open the bonnet of each car. I felt the familiar mantle of despair that I normally associate with DIY tasks settle upon my shoulders. For a second, I expect I resembled a middle-aged Atlas, close to defeat, on the verge of letting the world tumble from his back.*

Then I gave myself a metaphorical shake and thought to dig out the owner's manuals. Hannelie's car had one and the secret agent style grille badge was soon pivoted aside to reveal the concealed keyhole. Izzy's car didn't have one and I spent a few minutes bent over the front seats while gravity pulled an unusual amount of blood into my head. Shortly before my nose actually exploded, I found a small catch to open the bonnet. Yay!

Batteries exposed, albeit after some tugging at their respective plastic covers, I attached the jump leads with surprising confidence, started Izzy's car and, despite a moment's irrational fear that the engine might blow up, turned the ignition on Hannelie's car. The engine started!

Cats alive and no flat battery! Not bad, eh?

Thus, it was with a swagger in my step that I crossed from the car park to Arrivals, this afternoon. My seasoned travellers - they go to South Africa every year - emerged with a bounce in their step despite the long journey. God, it was lovely to see them after three weeks away; Skype takes the sting out of it but I'm an inveterate hugger and, fortunately, there were plenty of hugs available, even from Dan :-)

*Don't worry, I'm not going to start cross-referencing all my blog posts.