If we were having coffee we’d talk about my blogging sabbatical that wasn’t one but I made it one as a reason to explain why I haven’t been active here since about May, and blogging in a patchy manner for about a year. I wrote about it earlier on – Well, It Became A Sabbatical – in case you’re wondering. No? Ok, let’s move on…
If we were having coffee I’d lament the closure of my favourite coffee shop a few months ago. It was my go-to place, great tapas menu, great health menu, great cakes, great coffee, great vibe, great music, great welcome…you get the gist. The last time Ché and I went there for the “free coffee for having voted in the elections special” we noticed fewer waitrons, they were rushed and the service wasn’t up to its usual good standard. We noticed it but put it down to many people taking them up on their “free coffee for having voted in the elections special”. The next week they’d closed down.
Quite a number of shops have closed down over the years at this particular mall – more than usual. The latest casualty was The Tea Merchant. Previous to that was the furniture store. When a variety of shops closes down it usually means there wasn’t enough traffic to pay the hefty rent this mall charges, never mind break even. Our economy is battling, this despite the unprecedented growth in the past quarter. Rents don’t go down. Food is more expensive. Petrol is more expensive. Fewer people are at the malls. Less disposable income. Less spending on non-essentials. And a whole lot more. It’s a signal we need to pay attention to. The space the coffee shop occupied is still closed up, the furniture stacked up neatly within the closed doors. It’s a signal we need to heed.
If we were having coffee we’d talk about the weather, naturally, having gone from cold to hot overnight. No gentle spring warmth easing us into a new season. The season skipped the August winds and we’re in September, waiting for the rains to arrive. It’s lovely, the birds are happy, chirping, the humans are happy, the cat doesn’t really care, it’s great.
Talking about happy birds and cats, yesterday Ché and I awoke in the early morning to the sounds of chirping in our bedroom! Ché got up and found that Nermal had brought a tiny bird into the room, intent on eating it. The little bird was still alive and Ché put in in a box. Nermal was naturally put out, sulky that his toy and his feast had been stolen from under his nose. Luckily the little bird wasn’t injured at all – it didn’t look like it – because when Ché took him outside to put him on a wall high off the ground, he promptly flew away with no signs of any injury. Thankfully. Nermal settled into sleep the day away on our bed after he’d eaten some proper man-made cat food. He’s forgiven us and seems to have forgotten about it all. He doesn’t usually bring in birds – never up until now, that I can recall. It must be the spring-summer weather getting to him. I want a happy cat and I also want happy birds. No hunting in our garden, please!
Well, let’s meet up again next week, same time same place. I’ve enjoyed our coffee share this week and I’d like to gift you with the quote below as we part for the week.