Splutter

Today marks the end of the beginning of the end, and the beginning of the end of the end - or something.

The backup / teenager / second car, loving or scathingly known as the Go Kart died on me several times this morning, luckily within the first 50 yards.

Unluckily the combination of roadworks, fog and delicate likkle kiddies who dissolve in the damp and need a ride in Mummy's tractor, meant that the road outside the house was chock-a-block. So 100 yards took 20 minutes and several stalls.

Decision time. I think that the problem we have that its next learner driver is already 6ft4 and the car isn't, punts it toward The Time To Say Goodbye.