Smash Repairs

9 am start. Pick me up from the Smash Repairs? he asks.

When? Oh, 9am? Okay. Where?

He tells me, again. The local Smash Repairs.

Why is he going to the local smash repair workshop?

He’s getting the ugly slash of a dent removed from his almost brand-new all-wheel-drive. In fact, the entire boot is being replaced. $4K! For a dent! $500 excess! It’s expensive parking in our local grocery store car park. Too-narrow car bays, too little room between this side and that to reverse in or out. Unknown perpetrator of the car wound has left his or her mark. Argh!

Okay. 9am. I pace myself. Alarm for 7.15. Yes, it takes me an hour to wake up, and half an hour to get ready. It means a window of about five minutes or so to ‘get there’, the repairs workshop, where I am to dutifully collect from the roadside.

What? Now?!

He calls out – ‘see you there’. It’s 8.30! It’s 5-7 minute drive, just down the road! I’m still naked, freshly showered, putting on my face in the bathroom.

You’re leaving too early! (He always does. Why didn’t I factor this in?!)

‘See you when you get there’, I hear.

The muffled sound of a diesel motor gurgles into life. Muffled because it is in the carport and I am in the bathroom.

I never quite got the sound of non-petrol cars. Once upon a childhood time, when I was a farm girl, diesel sounds belonged to tractors, trucks, heavy duty farm vehicles. Anyway, his choice, diesel I mean – and to leave at, what is now, 8.31.

I do not, read again, do not hurry – to get to the Smash Repairs!

It’s chilly, crispy, borderline winter cold. As I pull up curbside, a large slither of guilt oozes its way into my heart. I don’t like being in the cold. Neither does he. He’s been standing, waiting for my 3 minutes past 9, late, arrival.

Belt up!

He explains his early arrival. As do I, why the 3-minute oversight. Too much traffic on the highway I had to cross.

He explains. He likes to arrive early to talk about the work to be done, pay the excess and…

I don’t really care! For me, if I have a 9 am start it means I arrive at 9am! At which time I discuss the job, and ‘pay the excess’, and…

We laugh. We poke our tongues out at each other. Mirth sparkles from his gentle brown eyes. Rarely annoyed over anything, he suggests breakfast ‘out’ in the same breath and space as I am turning my petrol-run hatch toward my already pre-chosen – already thought about it – breakfast out, direction. “Snap”! We laugh again.

Choose a different way

‘Don’t go that way!’ I do. I know the shortcut via a lane. “Pretty Lane” it’s called. Because it is. A lane lined with Aussie bush. A shortcut between the light industrial, smash repairs, tire replacements, auto fix-it businesses and ‘A Patch of Country’ café in the heart of the local shopping zone. The zone where the culprit pinged his car.

I’ve avoided the highway I had to cross earlier. I’ve bumped my hatch over the curb into and out of the lane. We’ve enjoyed the patch of winter green bush, with its rich grass trees wearing their skirts and slender gums that create a canopy. We skirt a roundabout or two and park near the cafe.

Smashed Avocado or not?

Our chosen bacon and egg sandwich with toasted ciabatta and salmon eggs Benedict without avocado café is a quaint, old original farm house. Complete with wood paneled walls, galvanized iron roof and wide wooden floor board verandah. It is a little patch reminiscent of country life with a modern menu of almond milk flat whites and cappuccinos on a sun-warmed verandah. Or, it’s where you can enjoy inside warmth amidst local artisan’s crafts, available for purchase. A quaint place, with excellent service, country-style friendliness and waitresses (or should I say waitpersons?) with smiles and laughter that radiate into this early spring-like morning.

We smile across the table, indulging in the retirement privilege of breakfast out. Of a late or early morning start to the day – whatever we permit ourselves to call it after 9am.

Or was that 8.31?

I’ve written about other mini adventures in my own backyard here, and about being a local tourist here.