Four Wheels On Our Wagon ...

...as we have another car and have been lurching around the autumnal lanes of Cornwall whilst The Old Man do get used to driving petrol again after years of diesel. It will get better we tell ourselves ... as he do make the umpteenth attempt to get out of our impossible parking space in this new wagon... or do try the key in the door and set off the alarm.
All this is good timing... for next week we do sample the heady delights of Penzance for a live broadcast of "The Marriage of Figaro" at the cinema and I do not believe the local buses would be obliging enough to be operating still by the time we emerge, definitely staggering, from the performance.
But the week have taken its toll ... and we stare at another barrage of medical appointments amidst our nervous and financial exhaustion. All together now....
"It will get better."

Disaster Strikes Our Mobility

What can I say? The car goes in for an MOT. Gets through the physical check... and when they roll it onto the emissions detector set-up... the back wheels fall off.
I mean... anyone would think the car had been made by Mrs D.

We have to buy another second-hand car toot suite! (Parp! Parp!)