As many of you know, today is the day we call FriedEgg in the McBride-Tiley household. It started off well enough--the eggs and pepper sausages were good--and then I went to Waitrose, where every gormless old fart in the southwest of England was in front of me doing 30 on the A390, and in the store taking seventeen minutes and eleven seconds to decide between a 200g and a 400g packet of Cathedral mature cheddar. There was a big queue at the do-it-yourself free latte machine (note, free is the only word that still makes inroads to the mentality of the aforementioned), so I passed it up and came home. After a time, I my eyeballs and tush decided enough editing was enough, and we should drive up to Kit Hill with Heidi for a walk. We passed the Lollipop Lady, where we all, including Heidi, waved to her. And then the car gave out. Horrid noises, no power. Oops. Simon turned around, we passed the Lollipop Lady again, smiled and waved, and came home. It was 3:30 on a FriedEgg. He called our mechanic, who was about to leave for the weekend, but told him to call his friend, a mechanic much closer to us, really. Simon managed to get the car down there (fortunately, downhill virtually all the way, since we live at the top of a ridge above the town). I called Enterprise in Plymouth and booked a car for a few days; the man even looked up the train schedule from Gunnislake and said, although theyd come all the way out here--20 miles--to pick us up on a weekday, the best they could do on a weekend was the train station. OK, since the trainstation here is less than a five-minute walk. As it turned out, the local mechanic got the parts delivered in 20 minutes, and installed them in another 20, and Simon was home by 5. I cancelled Enterprise. And I thanked whatever goddess managed to get our basically dead car fixed on a Friday afternoon. Late Friday afternoon. I shall pour tonights martini libation down my gullet in honour of that goddess, and waft some incense through the greenhouse--where it is still warm enough to sit without the heater--to honour her and show appreciation for her largesse. Happy FriedEgg, Bunkies!
Posted on: Fri, 19 Sep 2014 17:27:22 +0000
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