Congratulations are in order! I am now an expert bleeder of brakes. Another little accomplishment in my bag of many tricks. And what’s even more amazing, Richard and I are still speaking! Well we would be if he was here. He’s toddled off to work bless him – and on a Sunday. I think he has a motive. Well two actually. One, he wants to get away from the continual improvements to the chuck cage, which, as my friend Lauren pointed out yesterday, is a hotel. And second, I think he wants to earn a bit extra so that he can throw it into Betsy Land Rover’s ever hungry, open mouth.
As I sat on her cracked leather upholstery yesterday, drinking tea and listening to Richards repetitive instructions of, ‘DOWN. UP. DOWN. UP. DOWN UP. DOWN. HOLD IT!’ the unforgivable thought crossed my mind – this pile of tin is NEVER going to pass an MOT. Honestly, I was not born a defeatist but Betsy has seen better days – and sadly, I have to confess to having that little fact in common with the old pile of scrap. We could both do with a few creases ironing out.
I have been informed by Richard that the brakes are now functioning and what’s even more unbelievable is, he actually thanked me for helping him. Blimey. They’ll be snow in hell next! The next problem lies in the fact that Betsy won’t tick over. Ha ha. The poor old girl shudders into life at the turn of the key and then dies. I have every confidence in Richard’s ability to sort this … no …honestly …I do. And when he does I thought I might borrow Betsy to take my stuff to a car boot. Richard hates car boots. Really hates car boots, so I think asking him to take me is a no-no. Driving the heap myself isn’t something I’d anticipate with confidence because my memory, though often failing, does stretch back to the last time I drove her – or attempted to point her in the general direction of home…
I was flying down the motorway at ninety miles an hour (forty, shaking, rattling and vibrating the fillings in my teeth) looking for the slip road, saw it, indicated (good driving hey?) and pulled off. As I did a slight left on to the slip road Betsy went into a tailspin, swerving to the left and then the right and then to the left. I bellowed, ‘Shitttttttt!’ but with no effect as the stupid thing continued to tango across the two lanes. Applying the brakes, which at that time were almost apparent, didn’t help. We gradually straightened and came to a halt at the roundabout.
I haven’t driven the thing since that day.
Actually, I’ll admit this to you but NEVER to Richard, I’m quite looking forwards to getting Betsy back on the road. She’s a soft-top ( bit like Richard) and I think it will be really cool driving round the country lanes with my hair blowing in the breeze and my new shades on. And I may even pack a picnic and a flask – little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Ha ha, don’t be silly, I’m joking, I’ll probably leave the crusts on!!
Having said all this, Betsy needs gallons of fuel just to get her off the starting blocks so I reckon Richard had better get used to working on Sundays?
Hopefully, this afternoon, when he gets home, he will have enough remaining energy to sort out Betsy’s tick … tick …tick …over?
All for now. Short and sweet. Time to go and wash the chuck’s bum.
Take care my lovelies x