The old Vauxhall estate that’s carried both tools and ruckacks around the country for me these past few years, and ran itself twice around the clock, finally succumbed to the growing potholes of the A82 and put itself in a financially unvialble position regarding repairs.
As luck would have it, a neighbour asked if I knew anyone who was looking for a motor, he was selling his old, low mileage, great condition Ford estate. I reached for my wallet.
Picked up the freshly MOT’d motor today to much rejoicing and relief. Financing a new van was once again pushed to the horizon.
Me and Joycee sat in the motor with tasty stakeout from Pret a Munchie and I broke a filling on a Swedish meatball.
Bastards.
Strange, I have also just retired my skanky, dog-waggon Vauxhaul for a slightly newer Ford.
Watch out then, the forces of darkness will want to get even on you for your good fortunes like they did with me…
Can’t trust those Swedish meatballs. You should try the Norwegian ones, much more palatable!
Now there’s a thing you don’t se much of in the shops over here!