I had the bad news call from the Ford dealership and was told how much the repair will cost. TOO B****Y MUCH! But, there you go. Can’t live without a car. Can we?
It’ll be ready late on Tuesday, so I’m told.
And the awful thing is that, once the dust has settled, the beastly little four-wheeled money pit will be due an annual service.
I could take it better if I actually enjoyed driving.
Graham spent the day clearing vegetation from one section of the back garden and running it through the garden shredder. And cursing the garden shredder. And hitting the garden shredder when it jammed up.
I fear that garden shredder is not long for this world.
I shuddered mightily when our neighbour went to the fence to talk to Graham in mid-garden shredder cursing and hitting, expecting him to retire with a bloodied nose at the very least. But, there you go, Graham knows his manners better than that and the exchange ended in laughter.
Laughter is good. Just now, though, with a big car repair bill hanging over my head, I’m finding my laughter has just a touch of hollowness about it.
