I managed to do a damn god job on the car yesterday.

I ran it through a car wash without losing any outside attachments, so it still has two wing mirrors and a radio aerial  which is quite remarkable.

I then did a touch up back at home, removing the moss and other flora that the carwash had missed, and them managed to remove about a pillow-full of dog hairs.  I had just finished when Spanner called to collect it for its annual.

Now I am worried.  Spanner reckons that my battery problem is down to a dud cell which is fair enough.  It ties in the symptoms.  That’s gonna cost.  But what worries me far more is that he started talking about corrosion and welding.  Fuck!  I’m not quite sure what needs welding but apparently models of my car’s age develop corrosion somewhere that has to be patched or it fails the car test.  I suppose it’s a bit like myself – as age progresses, damp sets in and starts to cause rust?

So now I have no car.  Spanner left his on my driveway with its ’88 registration [which raises to tone of the place a bit] but the bastard forgot to leave the keys.  I hadn’t planned on going anywhere anyway.  I am waiting for the phone call where he breaks the news gently.  Though knowing Spanner, he’ll tell me the cost with great glee.  Spanner is about as subtle as a fart in a lift.  One way or another it’s going to put a massive dent in the remains of my savings.

I did a little research the other day.  I looked up the price of second hand cars and specified that I wanted one with the same mileage as mine [or less].  Allowing for trade in, I reckon it would cost around €12,000.  Fuck that!  It looks like I’m stuck with the one I have.

Of course that may all change on Wednesday when the car fails its road test.

Bugger.