Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Facing The Axe
by Russell Turner - 16:31 on 04 May 2017
Yesterday, whilst engaged in yet more garden duties, the frame of our sorely overworked mower broke. I blame a design flaw, rather than rough treatment, because the frame had been replaced two or three years ago after breaking in the same place.
Today, ready to drive to Frank Nicol’s to order a replacement part (because I’m too thrifty to buy a new mower), my eye was caught by Son of Seat’s sagging exhaust. This was not good. How much not good became clear after it had been examined at Dingwall Tyre Centre: the whole exhaust, catalytic converter and all, needs to be replaced at an estimated cost of £420. Or more. VAT may or may not be included.
The only silver lining was that while waiting for the car to be examined I shared a waiting room with Norman, drummer with Biro, where we talked about earplugs and difficult-to-please brides and I learned of the possibility of some gigs as a stand-in for their soon-to-be temporarily absent bass player.
Next stop was RM Motors where Richard sportingly agreed to give Son of Seat a thorough examination on Monday to see if the exhaust is as bad as claimed (the hole is undeniable) and what else he needs to a) get him through next month’s MOT and b) ensure several more years of useful life. A thumbs down could lead to a trade-in after car hunting – not my favourite occupation.
As for the mower, the part’s been ordered and will cost around £12. Until then I’ll have to be busy with the strimmer and the weeding fork.
Willow shows off her happy tail.
At least the good weather continues with no sign of a break, much to the pleasure of cats (although Maia still spends more time indoors than out).
Willow’s left the lizards alone today but the corpses of a shrew and a vole were loudly brought indoors this morning for our admiration. Maia’s hunting was limited to pouncing on an apple and blackcurrant doughnut I’d thoughtlessly left on the kitchen worktop and attempting to carry it away. Who says cats don’t like sweet things?
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