O.K so it's a quote from Arthur Ransome's book Swallows & Amazons. I wasn't sailing around some lake up North or afloat at sea. I simply took Ffin's limousine for it's MOT.
Having already got soaked to the skin taking him out this morning, I left him at home to guard the (dry) fort, before heading off via waterways to the garage and I mean waterways in the flooding road sense of the word. At one stage I drove through a "puddle" so deep that it deterred less able drivers from navigating through it. This is a road that only last year was finally repaired and relaid by our local council, who ... knew that this spot was a particular flooding hazard and has been for years, claiming quite a few unwary, or low profile vehicles. Did they provide a suitable soak away to avoid this hazard? Well ... NO is the simple two letter answer! Still looking on the positive side the car had a really thorough wash underneath, getting rid of winter salt grit and mud so the MOT guys could see clearly underneath and as I splodged around the garage in my currently constant outdoor footwear (wellies) and made tea for the hard working guys, I was glad that for once I hadn't taken the dog with me. The rain was torrential! The noise on the corrugated rooves of the garage bays made conversation necessarily loud to be heard above the timpani of tin being drummed by a heavenly Ginger Baker. Yes ... it was very loud and needless to say wet. At one point the garage owner had to strip off having been out on a recovery and put on yet another set of dry clothing,
Anyway, the good news was that I was able to arrive home soaking wet, to a very dry dog with a new MOT certificate, so the old car is legally roadworthy for another year.
Mad mutt unimpressed with the fact that ... having stripped off and got into dry clothes, I was not prepared to go out in monsoon conditions yet again. At least his limo is road legal and neither did it get water ingested into various intakes like some more modern vehicles might have done, so the old girl has another years grace of road worthiness. Little does the daft dog realise these "minor" practicalities of human endeavour ... he's still sulking.
No comments:
Post a Comment