We were just set to drive off to Pontardawe this morning, I released the brake, and there was a car-shuddering CLUNK! I think the disc on the near side front wheel must have frozen up. Or something. Something expensive, probably.
So I drove very slowly, CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK!, a little way along the road with Graham peering underneath the car. That’s how we located the problem. I reversed, !KNUCL !KNUCL !KNUCL, parked the little silver beast outside the house and we had a little conference. Tomorrow I shall phone the garage, get them to come and take the car for repair and annual service, and to give me a rental car while ours is off the road.
That’s what emergency funds are for, I suppose, though it does hurt an old skinflint like me when I have to dip into them.
And I’m clean out of potatoes, too. Just as well tonight is curry night, with rice. Tomorrow it’ll be a long slow trudge down to the chippie if we can’t get some temporary wheels. Friday, we run out of routine booze. I have a bottle of brandy only just started, and an unopened bottle of vintage port, so there will be alcohol. Just not alcohol as we know it.
Alcohol and chips, eh? Doesn’t sound so bad to me.
