The other day I was looking for fresh batteries to put into the portable radio; there was a brown out, you see. I rummaged through a drawer full of batteries and "katol," and matches, and candles. There were batteries used and unused there.
Finally, I loaded four batteries into the old radio, but there was no signal. I replaced the batteries with a new set, but again nothing happened.
That's when I took out from the "bodega," the portable emergency light cum radio-electric fan and mosquito swatter. Voila, radio!
Later, I lined up the used batteries by the kitchen window in order to re-charge them.
This is what I noticed. Batteries here in P.I. are the type that die young. I've changed clock batteries constantly.
And yesterday at the parking lot, when I switched the car ignition, there was just a click. I pumped the gas, and turned on the key... there it was again. Silence.
I opened the hood and checked the battery cables. That battery is practically new - 16 months' old. In Canada, I rarely buy a car battery; I keep going back to the same tire-garage for car maintenance and accessories, and the store honors the warranty on my battery, so practically, I don't buy new ones.
The security guard at the parking lot was already calling for service when I tried to start the car again. Vroom...the car growled at me.
I don't know what happened out there. Just like I don't know what's happening to my body (having flu-like days, and then gone next day), nor to my tomorrows.
It's like touch and go, one song declares. One can never tell the future, even if one bases the assumption or forecasts from previous happenings. There's no intelligent guesses, anymore, especially in matters of the heart.
It's Valentines Day, that's why I decided to blog today.
The last time I blogged was January 20th. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
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