I Got Driven!!!

Is Pam looking?  No?  Good.  Hello, it’s Lucky Car here.  I’m borrowing the Blog.  I have to tell someone.  I am so excited!  I went for a DRIVE!!!  Yes!  Frank, the Boy’s car, doesn’t want to talk to me anymore because, in the last two days, I’ve been for two drives!  (Frank is sulking.  He’s jealous.). I haven’t been driven for ages.  Pam hasn’t been to the office in over 2 months.  I know she’s working - I can see her sitting at a computer most days - but we haven’t gone anywhere for a long time.  They say it’s because of Lockdown and the virus.

Yesterday, I went all the way to Costco.  Their car park was busy - I haven’t seen so many moving cars in ages!  The humans were queuing all the way down the side of the warehouse.  There were marks on the ground two metres apart.  Most people seemed to observe “Social Distancing” (whatever that means) but many don’t realise that the 2-metre-rule is in every direction, not just in front of them.  Unlike the time Pam took me to Tesco in April - she queued for over 45 minutes - it didn’t take Pam and the Boy long to get into Costco.   They were out again within 30 minutes. 

The Boy drove me today.   I had a bit of a workout.  We went to the butcher’s shop near the station, then drove the long way round the back of the RAF base to get home. A whole extra 2 miles!  It was lovely to feel the road under my tyres and to hear the radio playing.  (I haven’t listened to anything for ages.  There’s no cricket or football on the radio and Pam hasn’t played a podcast in me for months!)

I miss long drives.  We were meant to be in Normandy this week but nobody can travel.  I sit parked at the front of the house, dreaming of the day that Pam and the Boy throw a suitcase in my boot and we drive off, and keep driving until there is no road left.  I want to go through the Channel Tunnel and head for places we’ve never been together, maybe even as far as the Czech Republic where I was born.  I just want to experience the open road again.

- Lucky.

PS:  Don’t tell Frank but I get to go on holidays because I’m more fuel efficient.

My Turn

Lucky here.  I have an announcement to make.  Look:

Wait for it.

Don’t believe it?

Yes!  I’m over 100,000 miles old!

This happened last month but, as you’re aware, Pam and I weren’t getting along very well, so I couldn’t ask her for access to the Blog.  I’m sorry I was grumpy.  The deer hurt my nose - my Skoda badge is depressed by at least 5 degrees.  

As for the tyre.....  At least we found a new garage to look after me, as the result of that incident.  Since Pam changed jobs, I can no longer get to MOT City to be serviced and the replacements weren’t that good.  (MOT City looked after me, Frank and the Toy.  They are award winning for good reason: excellent service and good value for money.  Pam used to walk to work from there.).   These new people were recommended by the RAC man who came to change my wheel.  He said that they service his wife’s car.  They’re about 2 miles away from home.  So far, they’ve replace the locking-wheel-nut on all my wheels (it was missing, which is why we phoned the RAC), done my big service and glued down Frank’s loose trim.  I will see them again.

- Lucky

In which Lucky exacts his revenge

(This is a true conversation that happened yesterday afternoon.)

What????

How did that happen?  We've only gone 6 miles from the golf club and I'd swear there was 65 miles range when we started up!  I haven't a clue where we are - this is a new route home to me, but Madam Google said it was the quickest.   Google Maps, where is the nearest petrol station, please?  3/4 of a mile?  

<Start praying.>

Get to petrol station.  All the pumps are busy or out of diesel.  Hurry up, people!  Don't you know we're running on fumes here?

< grrrr >

Finally someone moves.

<. Fills up with diesel >

37.42 litres!  You lying, cheating b*st*rd, Lucky!  You have a 44 litre tank and you swore you were empty!  At your normal MPG, that's at least another 60 mile range so why were you lying?  

Why???  Are you getting revenge on me?  

Is this about the deer two weeks ago?  The deer was NOT my fault!  The damn thing leapt out of the hedge on the far side of the country lane we were driving down and ran in front of you.  I slammed on your brakes as fast as my reflexes would work.  I didn't want to hit the deer.  I didn't want to hurt it or you!  Anyway, it ran off so we can't have done it much damage.  It bounced.  You were left with a slightly buckled, black plastic grill-thingy, but that got snapped back into position by your new mechanic.  Seriously, I was left as shaken as you were.  We've done that drive to the Winchester office a couple of times since then and I'm constantly looking out for deer.

Or is it about the tyre last Friday?  Yes, that was my fault.  It's a drive we do every day on the way to work so I should have known better.  OK, I'm guilty of hurting you.  My brain misjudged the turn onto Dunham Roundabout from the A40 and hit a curb.  I'll give you that, but at least I've worked out why - someone took out the bollard on the central reservation and it looked like a flat, sandy pot-hole from the A40 slip road, not like the raised divider it really is.  So I gave you a flat tyre.  So what?  I'm sorry.  But at least there are two silver linings from that incident:  we discovered that your locking wheel-nut thingy was missing AND you've now got a nice, friendly, local garage to do your services instead of that badly organised, money-grubbing dealership we'd been forced to take you to after I stopped working in Reading.  A garage as good as MOT City.  A garage that replaced all your locking wheel-nuts,  gave you a service on Wednesday and a valet and  didn't cost the earth.  And they replaced your broken left wing mirror, which I'd accidentally caught on the electricity pole the morning before we hit the deer.

I'm sorry.  OK?

Please, can we kiss and make up now??

- Pam

Frank

Is anyone looking?  Sssshhhh...... Don't say anything!  This is Lucky, Pam's car.  Pam left her iPad in my glove box while she went to a job interview, so I'm borrowing it to share a story about my friend, Frank.  This is Frank:

As you can see, he's a Skoda Fabia, like me.  He's the Boy's car.  He's been around a while - he knew the Toy.  They were friends.  (I never met Toy, but when I arrived, Frank made me feel welcome so I know he doesn't blame me for Toy's demise.)

Frank can be quite grumpy in the evenings.  I think it's to do with all the motorway driving he does.  When I do motorway driving, Pam and I just potter along, enjoying the speed, the wind in my vents and our latest podcast or the cricket or the football. (I love sport!).  I'm not one of those cars who get competitive.  You've seen them!  The must-drive-faster-to-the-next-junction-than-anyone-else brigade, weaving in and out of innocent vehicles just to get 2 metres further ahead.  (If it gets a bit snarly, I just think of it as an excuse that gives me time to listen to more cricket.)

I don't think Frank is massively competitive either, but he does get really grumpy about those cars.  He rants about them to me when he gets home.  This is his really grumpy face:

(To be fair, he'd had a shunt.  He was furious about it for a week.) 

Two weeks ago, Frank sent me this photo.  He was so proud of himself and wanted to show off to the world!  Look in the bottom left corner:

Yes, I'm 3 years older, but Frank has beaten me to 100,000 miles!  Happy "birthday" Frank!

New Blogger App

This is the first post/first attempt at a post from a new Blogger app.  Google appear to have abandoned their IOS blog users and haven't updated their app for several years.  After much reading of reviews, I settled on Blog Touch Pro.  It wasn't free and, at £4.99, it wasn't cheap, but it does look much more like the Blogger web interface than the Blogger app did.   And I can add photos, etc, which I can't do using the the Blogger web interface via Safari.   Here's one from Lucky, taken a couple of weeks back when I was commuting out to the far reaches of Oxfordshire:

 

I think he was being a little optimistic with his range estimate - he usually does about 500 miles before screaming "Thirsty!".  (After 120.8 miles, I'd expect him to claim a range of about 400 miles.)

- Pam (Now to see how this posts.)

I am a LUCKY car!

It's Pam's car here, Lucky, borrowing the blog.  I've been trying to get onto it for ages  but the Blogger app no longer works on iPads or iPhones and Pam hasn't gone anywhere near Blogger on a PC for ages.

Anyway, I just wanted to share why I'm a Lucky car.  It's not just that Pam calls me "Lucky" (a play on the first two digits of my registration number), or that she takes good care of me - she even pats my "nose" (the Skoda badge on the top of my grill) - it's because of this:

Yes, that's right:  all the eights.  A very lucky number to the Chinese.  Having made it to 88,888 miles, that makes me a very lucky car!

- Lucky

The Toy's Last Milestone

They took my Toy car away on Tuesday. I'd spent what-felt-like days caught up in the insurance-company-telephone-death-spiral. Net result: he was written-off and taken for scrap. When the drove him onto the transporter, I seriously wondered if I was doing the right thing - it felt like a betrayal.

This is his last ever milestone.

Goodbye Toy and thank you for all the great times.

The Toy is No More

My Toy car just got written off!  He was parked up on the street opposite our house and one of the teachers from the neighbouring school just drove straight into him.  Head on collision. 


Smashed headlight.  Smashed grill.  Punctured radiator.  Damaged bumper-bar.  Too old and too many miles for it to be an economic repair (264,500 miles on the clock and 12 years of service).   The insurance company have told me to remove all my personal belongings and they'll arrange for a salvage company to take him away to the big scrapyard in the sky.

I'd spent today home sick and was lying on the couch under a duvet when I heard the sound of glass smashing followed by car crash noises.  Looked out the window and saw a car with its hazards flashing.  Looked for the Toy and realised he was 15 feet or so down the road from where I'd parked him on Monday night and not looking healthy.

Damn, damn, damn!!!!

I know he was old and had high mileage - after all, I am responsible for over 99% of them.  But this isn't the way I thought he'd go.  I thought we'd get to 300,000 miles and then, possibly, trade him in.  Or aim for 350k and see what happened.  It's not dignified and it's not fair!

Now I'm going to have to spend the next few days finding and buying a new car.  Not what I'd planned to do but commuting to work by train is not a long term option either economically or time-wise.  As it is, I'm going to take the rest of the week off sick because I'm certainly not well enough to face that train journey.  And I may work from home for a few days next week.

- Pam



PS:  The driver of the other vehicle is OK.  A bit shaken but not hurt.

In which the Toy gets a new "pacemaker"

The Toy has had starter motor problems since the summer. When I got him serviced in September, I told the mechanic that he was getting slow to start and was advised to wait until it got really bad, once winter started, and then get a new starter motor fitted: "No point doing it now. Might not get worse for months. Might as well save your money until then." (This is a local garage not a dealership.) Last Monday morning, I switched on the engine and all Toy could manage was a single, asthmatic wheeze. Waited a few seconds and tried again: the coil light for the glow plugs came on followed by a bit more wheezing. On the third attempt, he started. (Toy is a diesel. Once the fuel is warm enough to ignite, he'll run forever. I bought him new, 12 years and 263,000 miles ago.)

I drove into work, phoned the garage and booked him in for his new starter motor, which was done on Wednesday. He also got two new tyres (they needed replacing) and a set of new wipers (the old ones squeaked even in the past week's heavy downpours). The last time he had his starter motor replaced, 6 years ago, was back when I regularly him to a dealership for servicing and repairs so I was expecting a bill for at least £600 plus the cost of the tyres (say £750 in total). I was pleasantly surprised when I got the bill - £287.17 for everything, including VAT.   My bank balance was much relieved.

Oh, and guess who now eager to get going on these dark wintery mornings and starts first pop?   Makes me wonder exactly how long the starter motor had been going.  

- Pam

Another Milestone

The Toy has something to show you.

Windscreen Number Five, Please

At least that's all it is.  It could have been a lot worse.

Thursday of last week, just after 7pm, I was driving home on the M4.  There wasn't a huge amount of traffic.  It was dull and overcast. No rain for once. I was in the middle lane, having just overtaken a lorry, doing around 70 mph.  Maybe a little higher than that, but not by much.  I remember the view from my rear vision mirror and I don't recall seeing any cars behind me, just the lorry over towards my left.  I debated pulling in to the left hand lane, like a good driver.

Suddenly, out of nowhere (so it must have been going fast), a black Fiat (possibly a Punto) sped past me on my right.  A car length or two ahead of me,  it cut the bend a bit fine and went over the rumble strip onto the central reservation.  Over-corrected and swerved into my lane.  Over-corrected again and, in slow motion, went into the central reservation, hit the barrier, spun and bounced to a stop. 

Self preservation kicked in somewhere between the second over-correction and the car hitting the barrier, and I was already moving over to my left before the car spun and a cloud of debris went flying over the road and over the Toy.  For a few seconds, I braced myself for the impact of the car hitting the side of the Toy. Or possibly its front bumper.  But the only things that landed were large pebbles about 2 inches across.  The lorry behind me pulled over onto the hard shoulder.  I pulled over onto the hard shoulder.  And stopped. Hazards on. Hands shaking.  Grabbed my phone and dialled 999.

"Emergency.  Which service do you require?"

"There's been an accident on the M4, east bound near Junction 8-9.  Car drove into the central barrier," I gabbled.

"Which service do you require?  Police?  Fire?  Ambulance?  I can only put you through."

 "Police," I replied.  A bit calmer.  Got put through to the police and repeated what I'd told the operator.  Then told the officer what had happened.

"Are there any other vehicles involved?"

"No.  But there's bound to be a shunt at the far end of the queue shortly." 

The lorry drove off.

Got out of the car and started walking back down the road to the nearest mile-marker, in order to give the police a more accurate location.  Told the officer what I could see.  A couple of men had stopped their cars and stopped the traffic. They got the driver out of the car and on to the hard shoulder.  As I got closer, I could see it was a woman. 

I was still talking to the police when one of the men came up to me and told me to move my car.  They were going to direct the traffic onto the left hand lane and the hard shoulder, effectively creating two lanes so that cars could get passed.  I told him I was talking to the police and was told, "Someone has already done that", I was told bossily.  So, I reported to the police officer that one of her colleagues was also or had also logged a call about the same accident.  Then told her what the men were doing.

Walked back to the Toy.  The others who'd stopped, moved their cars into the centre of the road, in front of the smashed up car.  Traffic started moving around it and the debris field.  There was no way I could get the Toy safely back towards the accident to wait for the police to arrive.  And it wasn't safe to stay where we were.  I asked the officer for permission to leave the scene of the accident.  Permission granted.  They have my details, if they need me, and I have a case number if I need them.

My phone tells me that the call lasted 6 minutes.

I drove off with my hands shaking.  Got home and checked the Toy.  A couple of chips in his paintwork, that's all.  It wasn't until I got to work on Friday morning that I noticed a crack in the bottom right hand corner of his windscreen. That windscreen was replaced today.  He's now on his 5th.

A very lucky escape.

- Pam

Palindrome

And now back to your usual programming....

The Toy has an announcement to make:

To all those muscle cars, driven by hotheads who think they own the road, next time you're pretending speed limits don't apply to you and insisting the rest of us move out of your way, here's something you'll never be able to do:

Here, take a closer look:

Yeah.  See what I mean?

Next time you come roaring up the motorway, weaving in and out of cars like you're a pin-ball, remember this is what a REAL MUSCLE CAR is all about.  And that car, is me!!!

Milestone 250,000 miles 22 January 2012

It pays to shop around

I should be fuming.

The Toy turns 11 next month.  With his insurance due for renewal, I went on line to compare quotes.  His current insurer is quoting me £50/month or a one off payment of £560 for fully comprehensive insurance including business cover - £20/month more than I was paying the same company a year ago.  In fact, it's more than I was paying when he was brand new!

Lured by their advertising, I logged onto Comparethemeerkat.com comparethemarket.com and typed in my details. Everything exactly the same.  Half-way down the list of insurance quotes was my current insurer, quoting exactly half what they quoted to me.  So I phoned my insurer.  "Sorry, madam, we can't match that quote....You're an existing customer and that makes you ineligible."

Huh?  So you don't want to keep my business then?   Good-bye.

Frustrated, I turned back to the quotes on the internet.  Directly above my current insurer and £2 cheaper was a subsidiary of the same company.  Five minutes later, I've bought identical car insurance through them.  And scored a free Meerkat toy, with my own Meerkova Village Parade.  Enjoy!



- Pam

The Toy's Trip Report

(Or what a little red car did on his holidays.)

Two Monday's ago, I got loaded up with people and stuff and drove to Normandy, France.  I had my "passport" (GB sticker).

 

 My ticket (attached to my rear vision mirror).

An awful lot of luggage.

Yet more luggage.  (How much do three people need for one week?)

And "the crew" (that's the Boy, the Girl and Howard, our host).

We travelled via the Channel Tunnel, on Le Shuttle.  It's quicker than the ferry and much more comfortable if you're a car - no need to worry about some idiot belonging to the vehicle next to you flinging his door open and damaging your paintwork.  And, no possibility of sea-sickness.   Also, the humans have to stay with their vehicles on Le Shuttle, whereas on a ferry they're forceably removed and made to walk through shops stinking of foul smelling perfumes (which always clings to their clothes.  Yuck!).

If you've ever wondered what the inside of the Channel Tunnel looks like, here's a "car's eye view" of the interior of the train:

When we got to the far side, the Boy drove me into Cite Europe for a rest, while the crew went to the bank, bought lunch in Carrefour, stretched their legs and swapped drivers (the Girl did the next stretch).  Cite Europe is a shopping mall right beside the Eurotunnel terminal.  Must remember for next time that the quickest way to get there is to drive into the Total garage forecourt, then back onto the side road, left at the roundabout and into the car park 200 metres beyond.  Otherwise, you have to go the long way round via the motorway and that means adjusting very quickly to French roads. 

French roads are a bit strange for us right-hand-drivers.  Firstly, we have to remember to drive on their side of the road, not ours, and that means going around roundabouts the wrong way. 

See, the Boy is sitting in my driver's seat.  It's on the other side  to all those left-hand-drive cars.  He had to drive sitting almost in the gutter on some roads.  Also, it means we have to wear "blinkers" so that our lights don't blind the on-coming foreign cars.

(Do you see that THING stuck on my light?  That's a blinker!  Like horses wear!  As if I'd ever deliberately blind someone.  How insulting!)

Driving in France means different speed limits and having to remember to pay attention to the kilometres on my speedo, not the miles.  On their motorways, cars drive up to 130km/h (that's over 80 mph), while in  towns the speed is usually 50km/h (around 30mph).  On the whole, their roads are good:  well signposted, smooth surfaces with not many potholes.

Although some cars got a little too close to my rear bumper for my liking, most were very well behaved - only staying in the left lane for long enough to overtake a vehicle before pulling in.  And they indicated (unlike London drivers who think that using their indicators costs extra).  I soon got over my nerves and was whizzing along pretending that I'm really a Porsche in disguise.  Then we got to the Pont Du Normandie.

No photos can do it justice.  That bridge is steep.  Since it has a peage (toll booth station) at the bottom, you can't even get a good run-up.  It even has pedestrians.

We drove from there to Pegasus Bridge, near Caen.   The British captured the Bridge on the night before the D-Day landings.   I drove over the replica/replacement.  It looks the same but it's larger and stronger than the original.

It was named for the emblem of the Paratroopers who liberated it.  Their story is told in the film, The Longest Day, starring Richard Todd.  In real life, Todd was one of the reinforcements on the mission.

The original bridge is now in the museum beside the canal.  The first allied soldier to be killed by the enemy during the D-Day landings,  Lt Brotheridge, died on that bridge.  There is a plaque to mark the spot.  Someone had left fresh flowers there on the day we visited.

 

The humans tell me that, if you get the chance, the museum is well worth a visit.  As well as the original bridge, it also has a replica of the Horsa gliders the men flew in to capture the Bridge.  (The originals didn't survive the conflict.)

The replica was built by engineering enthusiasts to the original plans.  It's mainly made of plywood.  Must have been a scary flight, not much in the way of brakes or steering and no engine.

From Pegasus Bridge, we continued on our way into the heart of the Normandy peninsula, to the farm house where we stayed.  We visited shops and markets, etc, but  I think I'll leave the rest story to another day.  Time to park up my wheels and rest.

Good night.

- Toy

A Diagnosis (and a car review)

The garage finally called me today.  The Toy didn't have a broken clutch or a damaged gearbox; it was a broken drive shaft.  Cost to repair £400.  He'll be ready tomorrow.  I'll collect him on Saturday, which is the first chance I'll get.

In the meantime, I've driven to Site in a hire car, a Honda Civic.  So far, I've done over 260 miles in it.  On the one hand, it's not a model I've driven before, so I'm quite happy to give it a test drive; on the other, the designer seems to have swallowed some of the same rubbish that Renault feed their designers:  all style and no function.   Take a look at the rear end; can you see what I mean?  (Pictures courtesy of Honda.)

See that spoiler, half way across the rear window?  Not only does it put a thick band of (?) metal across the window cutting the view in two, it almost obscures the headlights of any vehicle behind you until, that is, said vehicle hits a bump in the road which creates the optical illusion that it is flashing you.  Add to that the fact that the car doesn't have a rear wiper or washer, throw in a total inability to demist the lower half of the window (the top window has an electric demister) and the whole design of the hatch seams totally stupid.

(Interior shot of a left hand drive, automatic Civic.)

Another gripe (I have three, in total), is to do with the central console between the two front seats.   Like most cars in Britain, this one has a manual gear box.  The position of the gear lever is, probably, fine in an automatic (see above), but it is awkward for a manual driver.  In addition, having the only cup holder directly in front of the gear lever is insane because you have to reach over your travel mug, holding your elbow at right angles, to avoid knocking the cup over (see below).

My final gripe is minor.  I'm having problems coming to grips with the high beam on the headlights.  It seams that on virtually every other car I have ever driven, you pull the indicator lever towards you to put on high beam and push it away from you if you just want to flash your headlights.  In this car, it's the opposite.   (In some older cars, you pushed a button on the floor with your toe.)

OK, so those are all the bad things.  On the plus side, it handles well and is fairly nippy.   On the motorway, it was a comfortable drive so long as I didn't have to change gear.  It was easy to set up the mirrors, seat, etc, to suit me.  It has good wing mirrors which made reverse parking at work easy.  The interior is versatile, with the rear seats folding up as well as folding down flat to create a large rear space for transporting goods.  The driver's seat can be raised or lowered using a pump-action lever at the side and it's something you can do while you are driving, when you discover you can't see the speedo because the steering wheel is in the way.  The instrument display is clear and sensibly laid out.  Visibility is good to the front and sides of the vehicle.  It doesn't have a electronic demister for the front window but that window defrosted fairly quickly this morning in -2C.

Over all, I can't give it a higher score than 6 out of 10.   If it was an automatic, I'd give it a 7.

- Pam



(edited later to add:  that rear window thing is REALLY ANNOYING!!!  You can't see a damn thing out of it if it's raining and, of course, you can't clear off the rain drops because THERE IS NO WIPER!!!  After driving in the rain this morning, the score just dropped to 5.)

Not a good evening

Ever heard a tale about how bad things come in threes? Well this is one of those.

The only thing I had on my mind, when I left work on Thursday, was whether I should buy a 16GB iPhone4 or hold out for another month so that I could afford to buy the 32GB version.  My inner geek says "get the one with bigger storage", but I am about £40 short.  I drove home scheming:  the arguments in my head running along the lines of "if I take £40 from this account, I could get the phone now and pay it back next month" or "why don't I just charge it and finish paying it off next month?".  (I quickly shushed the latter argument.)  Another part of my brain was arguing:  "Why not settle for the 16GB? Do I really need 32GB of storage?".  It lost. 

Holding of purchasing for another month was still winning later on my way to a pub quiz, when I turned the car around outside the pub.  Then I heard it.  A metallic crunching noise, followed by "clatter, clatter".  I quickly parked the car up.  I first thought I'd damaged the steering (I'd had it on full lock); no, that felt fine.  Wheels, then?  They were still turning.  I decided it had to be a wheel bearing.  First thing wrong.

I went to the quiz, knowing that I could drive home with a broken wheel bearing, even if it wasn't safe to drive on the motorway to work.  We won.  And promptly donated our winnings to charity.  (You have to if you're known to be a friend of the quiz master.) 

Afterwards, S offered to shadow my drive home, in case something happened on the way.  Turned out, he didn't need to.  The Toy rolled about 2 feet before something seized up and he stopped.  So I phoned the RAC, switched off the engine, switched on the hazard lights and settled down to a long-ish wait.  When he arrived, the RAC mechanic determined it wasn't a wheel bearing.  It was the clutch.  The self-same clutch I'd had replaced 6 weeks ago.

(Incidentally, the most bizarre thing happened while I was waiting. A car pulled up beside me to ask directions.  Given that the only way to identify that my car was possibly occupied were its flashing hazards, I was a bit surprised to say the least.  Still don't know why they didn't walk into the pub and ask them.  It was fully lit.)


Watching as the mechanic hitched the Toy up to tow home, I noticed a long scratch on the passenger side.  Some bastard had keyed the Toy while I was in the pub.  Second thing wrong.


Got home well after midnight.  DH greeted me with a hot drink.  Then noticed a puddle of water on the oak floor in the hall.  Underneath the radiator.  A radiator that had suspicious looking rust marks down one edge.  It was obviously leaking from a seal near the valve you'd use to bleed it of air.  We could see the water drops forming.  I switched the radiator's thermostat to "off" and positioned a tupperware container under the drips.  Third thing wrong.

Definitely not a good evening.

In the morning, the RAC towed me to the garage, while DH followed and then drove me into work.  All I know is that the Toy will take several days to fix, so I've arranged a hire car for my trip to Site next week.  And we'll get the plumber in to fix the radiator next week.  It's still dripping a little, but not enough to get close to filling the Tupperware box.

- Pam

Something you don't see every day.

I think they got their fuel prices confused at the Tesco petrol station in Scunthorpe, when I was there last week. Diesel is never cheaper than unleaded petrol....  until now, that is.  Me thinks someone at Tesco made a mistake.

That's the 'per litre' price, so the diesel was about £4.40 per US gallon.

I double checked the prices shown on the bowser, before I filled up the Toy.  Yes, the diesel was 4p cheaper per litre. 

- Pam 

Snow Day Mark 3

I made it into work yesterday. The roads were clear until I got to Reading, where it rapidly became obvious that the Council hadn't gritted. I am not impressed.

Seriously. The road "in" from the M4 is the A329; it is motorway for about a mile, until the first junction. Motorways are managed by the Highways Agency. "A" roads are managed by councils. The A329 is 4 lanes, 2 each way. Within 400 metres of the first junction, our two lanes were reduced to one almost clear lane showing two tyre marks with snow in the middle. And it got worse the further I drove. It was obvious that the road was only clear because of volume of traffic. (NB, it snowed Wednesday. This was Friday.)

Parking at work was an adventure, since the snow was at least 6 inches (15cm) deep. Four staff were supervising traffic, whilst a digger cleared half the car park. Then the email came out to move our cars and we all swapped to the other side of the car park.

Thought you'd like to see some snow photos. Here is the view from our kitchen window, taken on Wednesday.


And the view from the back door. Pretty.


Also, here is the front step, which we salted on Wednesday.


Noticed yesterday that part of it was obviously being held together by the moss. Oops! No mortar:


We're now out of dishwasher salt. So was the supermarket yesterday; it appears I'm not the only person who had that idea.

On the work front: this time, I bought home the work laptop. We have more snow predicted for Sunday, but I think I'll be able to get to the office on Monday. They're talking about this weather lasting another 10 days, so I'm debating whether to ask for an SUV to be hired for my trip to Site the week after next. On the plus side, the off-road function should make it drivable on bad roads. On the downside, a) there is no guarantee its tyres will be better than the ones I have already (as I've said before, they don't do winter tyres around here); b) there is a high possibility, I won't get an SUV even though I've asked for it; and, c) I won't earn the £200+ mileage allowance I get for driving my own car (it costs me about £50 per Site visit, so I make a profit each trip). Any thoughts?

- Pam

Snow Day Mark 2

I didn't go to work today. it was a combination of things: the garage didn't finish working on the Toy yesterday (they'd had to order a part); DH was already committed to collecting his mum from the airport and driving her home; and due to the weather, the rail service has been operating an emergency timetable, which I can't rely on. (I checked the rail company's website last night before I went to bed and again this morning - it was impossible to work out when our trains were running. We may or may not have had one train an hour.) I emailed my boss at 6.30 this morning to tell him I wasn't coming in and that I'd take the day as leave. For a while, I kicked myself that I didn't bring home the company laptop on Tuesday night when I knew the weather would be bad - I'd looked at it, commented about it to my assistant, and then packed it away as normal.

Eventually I gave up worrying about work, logged out of the company webmail and got down to some serious day-time TV watching. Oh, and knitting. I've almost finished a pair of Baudelaire socks in UK Alpaca's Alpaca Sock Yarn (colour: charcoal). They're my first toe-up socks. I hope to wear them to work tomorrow (who needs to block socks?) so will photograph them when done.

It snowed yesterday until mid-afternoon. My poor MIL has suffered a temperature shock, flying in from the Gulf to sub-zero temperatures. Yesterday, she was sunbathing; today, she's sitting by the fire, wearing her warmest clothes to keep warm.

We've scattered dishwasher salt on the front step in an attempt to stop it icing up. Amazingly, it worked, dissolving the layer of snow that covered the step and the snow that landed after we salted. It's also killing off the resident moss and weeds that have colonized the mortar between the bricks that make up the step.

The Toy was ready for collection at 3pm today. The cause of his knocking noise? One of the rear tyre has worn badly on the inside and distorted. I was lucky it didn't blow out. The mechanics don't know why this has happened. Whatever caused it has happened since the start of August, when he was last serviced and they rotated the tyres. I asked about wheel alignment and camber (tilt) and they say that it isn't possible for the rear wheels to go off "true". The joints aren't built that way.

Sadly, with the Toy fixed, I have no excuses. It's back to work for me tomorrow.

- Pam