Truly, I believe that one day
Soon, they should abolish Monday;
Ruins the effect of Sunday,
Which is usually a fun day,
And, when blue is current run-day,
One is glad when it’s a done day!
A brief history of a day better forgotten is that I got woken up with an announcement that I needed to take Son-in-Law T, who came out of hospital on Saturday, to an appointment with the doctor as he was not feeling a happy chappy. I just had time for a chilly 100-stroke dip before we set out in my car. Hardly out of the gate, said buggy gave some flat backchat – being upfront about something not being right. In fact, the flat was on the front left.
I pulled onto the pavement, told T to hang in there, and sprinted back to get his car. This has been standing for a while and the left front wheel had developed a tendency to lose air, but I had pumped it up with my pet compressor last week and a check revealed that it was still fine. The car did seem to be handling oddly, though, and when I reached where T was leaning on his crutches he pointed to the right front wheel – flat. I gingerly inched back home and deployed the compressor again. Then it was off once more, for a long wait at the doctor.
Doc gave (of course) a prescription, but I knew cash would be needed – Med-aid currently exhausted. So the first order of business was to take the wheel off my car. The wheel with the flat tyre liked it where it was, and wanted to remain there. It took stamping a foot with full force on the wheel spanner handle to loosen the nuts, and then the wheel needed bashing with a brick from inside to persuade it to come off, even without nuts.
Now it was a dash to draw cash. The mall with the Auto Telling Machines was packed to the gills, and people were orbiting in their cars with the expressions of vultures waiting for something to die. Finally I saw a space at a far distant spot and rally-drove to beat a gaggle of other hopefuls. I didn’t pause to enjoy their looks of deadly hatred, but indulged in another sprint to the machine queue and back, before a Grand Prix drive to pick the kids up from school. I took them with me to collect the medicine – another queue.
A visit to the garage revealed that my flat tyre is an ex-tyre. It has a split in it. A most musical experience. On that note, the damage must have been caused by something sharp, and then it was only natural that flats followed.
T’s car to garage for all four wheels to be exploded … er, blown up. So that is happy again.
Now, just after lunch, Much Better Half has revealed that she feels ghastly with ‘flu or something, so I need to take her to the doctor.
Late afternoon: return after a chronic sinus diagnosis and collecting the contents of half a pharmacy shelf for her personal consumption. Of course, they were out of stock with one of the items, and had to phone the doctor for a substitute. The phones weren’t working too well …
When I restored the compressor to the garage, the roller-door split in two. And I see that the swimming pool has developed a leak.
I need a drink.