False Economy

I take the car in to the garage this morning for a pre-holiday check up. It passed it’s MOT at the end of June but the exhaust only got through by the skin of its teeth and the whole car is rattling somewhat...

However the garage say everything is fine. Yes, the exhaust is a bit cracked and a bit noisy but it would be false economy to have it fixed now. The chap says it would be much better to wait until the whole thing gives up the ghost. 

‘Like half way up the M6 on Thursday?’ I ask. 

He does one of those shrugs that mechanics are quite good at. He says he doesn’t want to take my money off me unnecessarily. Really? He’s in the wrong job.

‘But...’ he says. Ah, there is always a but. ‘You could do with two new tyres’.

So the car is all sorted but I was nearly looking for another co-pilot for the trip.

Due to her recently acquired criminal record, Hastings Direct have decided that they will not insure L any more. Why they couldn’t have told me this last week, when I first raised the issue with them, I have no idea.

Anyhow I quickly did an on-line search for a new insurer and it produced a list of 70 who were willing to take our custom. So we have now jumped ship to Swinton and the entire premium with them is less than it was at Hastings. So, result. Hastings must lose a lot of customers this way.

L says she feels bad for causing so much hassle. Hassle? She means excitement. I’ve never lived with a criminal before.

(Monday 14^th August)

Butter Wouldn’t Melt

The patient has his check up this morning which he passes with flying colours. It’s interesting to note that the grumpy old man, who growls at us when we try and inspect his stitches, is bestest pals both with his surgeon and the nurse. They’re all on first name terms and does he growl when they inspect his stitches, oh no, butter wouldn’t melt.

He’s given the all clear but is banned from agility for a further week. Which means no competing tomorrow and no training on Wednesday. I had already decided to retire him anyway, which means at our next event, which probably won’t be until December, I’ll run him in Veterans.

After a trip to the opticians I actually have the rest of the day and evening free... Hmmm... so what happens now then? I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do in situations like this. Chill out and watch TV or something? Not sure I know how to do that. So L and I embark on a bit of a house tidy and take a load of stuff to the tip. Not that we’re trying to expunge any signs of Son or Daughter from the place, perish the thought. We miss them dearly, on occasion.

At the tip, the council seem to totally ignore the WEEE electrical recycling regulations (it’s part of my job to know about these things) and dismantle our old computers (four of them!) and other defunct electric items with a large sledgehammer. I could have done that, saved them the trouble and had some fun into the bargain.

Then it’s pasta and a night in. L has a rather serious run and challenge match tomorrow.

(Saturday 8th October)