It all starts with my granddad and me waiting in line for a London bus back when I was about 5 or 6.
My long-gone granddad was a thoroughly lovable bloke. Worked hard all his life for the National Coal Board, never spoke about the war he'd served in, loved his family and, more particularly, loved London and its history.
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That's where I got the same passion and that's why we were standing in Trafalgar Square in the heart of the city waiting for a ride home. We've had a day out exploring history and now the winter afternoon gloom is gathering and as usual the bus is late.
While others are stamping their feet to keep warm, my granddad appears completely oblivious to the growing disquiet and just continues telling me all about the centuries old buildings around us.
I say "completely oblivious". Turns out he knew exactly what was going on and when three buses turn up at once, all going our way, He gives me a smile and says: "Good things come to those who wait".
Now, fast forward to Thursday last week and I'm reminded of my granddad and that day.
It started with a game of golf out of town. Actually scrub that. It started with Mrs P wondering if I should be playing golf mid-week when I could be out there looking for gainful employment.
She is, of course, correct. But sometimes the ongoing hunt for work can leave you a little jaded particularly after such a long time. For me whacking a little ball around a big bit of grass that someone else has weeded and mown helps lift my spirits.
Anyway, long story short. I won the match and came away with a box of golf balls.
As I loaded up the car after the game, I was still wondering whether I should have taken the morning off the job hunt.
As I pondered, a bloke I know walked across the carpark and asked if I was still looking for work.
I went through the usual explanation: Made Covid redundant from full-time work by the parent company mid-last year, still doing bits and pieces (like writing this column) to keep the wolf from the door but beyond that nothing firm.
Then the fun started.
He offered me a job then and there. Within 20 minutes of talks we'd shaken on the deal and I'm down to start proper in a month or so.
It would be fair to say I had a bit of a grin on my face when I got in the car to drive home.
Firstly, I checked my phone for messages – and also to see if Mrs P had rung to inform me she really was running off to some luxury resort with Rod Stewart and I'd need to pay the gas bill next Tuesday while she is away cavorting.
Nothing from Mrs P but two other interesting messages which left me gobsmacked.
Firstly I got offered another job. Yes. That's right. Two job offers in an hour. After all these months of searching.
And secondly a cash buyer wanted to buy my bus/motorhome and would have the money in the account within an hour if I was interested. Naturally I was and rang them straight back.
Before I knew it the deal was done and I eventually drove out of the golf club carpark.
I walked through the door at home not 20 minutes later like the proverbial cat who had got the cream.
The box of golf balls tucked under my arm seemed quite inconsequential as I relayed the other good news to an astonished Mrs P. I allowed myself a little self-indulgent gloat as I sank back into my chair and she went to make me a celebratory gin and tonic.
I was thinking about my granddad and his "good things" comment when she returned with a glass full of the nectar of the gods and an envelope.
I must admit my heart did miss a little beat when I saw the logo on it. Bugger. Inland Revenue.
Oh well, I thought, they'll want money. It's bound to be some payment I've missed. Maybe this is just the universe letting me know I need to keep my feet on the ground. I've had my good fortune for today.
Turned out I was wrong and my granddad's patient view of things from way back when remained spot on even in today's difficult times. Good things certainly do come to those who wait.
When I opened the envelope I discovered it was a refund for $27.34.
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).