Time travelling II
My son has bought a ‘new’ car to replace the one with the failed gearbox which replaced the one whose MOT certificate*, had he read it before he bought, would have told him it was made out rust lace. To avoid unpleasant MOT certificates he bought the ‘new’ car without one, then went away for a week and asked me to take it to the garage (very near my home) to get a nice new clean MOT. I am a sucker, and agreed.
Yesterday, when I went to drive it to his home, I discovered (for the second time, but I’d forgotten) that it has an alarm. So I was sitting in the driving seat being blasted every second by the very loud horn, phoning my other half who’d been told how to switch it off, when a police van drew up next to me. (This is one street from where there are no available police when incompetent workmen drop masonry on people.) Police officer suggested I get out and get back in again. I ignored him. But I did follow other half’s partially-heard instructions which, at the second attempt, worked. By this time police officer was trying not to laugh, and told me that he had to check whether I was stealing the car. I assured him that if I wanted to steal a car I wouldn’t choose this one, and he left in the face of my unassailable logic. I drove the car to son’s place and collected the old one to be scrapped before its insurance runs out tomorrow.
Today I deeply regretted having returned the car and I deeply regretted having bought train tickets three weeks ago to get to the course I was doing in Cheltenham. I left home at 7am. I returned at 7pm. The course lasted five hours. The 67km car journey takes a little over an hour. Absolutely the only consolation was this morning’s sun illuminating my 55 minute wait for a late train on Didcot station. Where, guess what, I was asked why I was taking photos. And whose strapline, lovers of English will shudder to know, is ‘Promoting Didcot Positively'.
If you like mesh, do please go large.
The sunset from the train home over beautiful Gloucestershire was gorgeous. If I’d had the car I’d have been able to stop and take pictures.
Last Monday. Today. Next Monday I’m going nowhere.
*annual certificate of roadworthiness