small teething issues

Well, of course the car wouldn't start after ten weeks in the garage. It did start, actually, for as long as it took to get out of the garage, and then it died, to be revived with the help of T's jump leads, so to charge up the battery I headed off briskly to North Hill and then down towards Moclett Bay where as we passed over the cattle grid (by 'us' I mean that animate of metal, the car and me, who am animate of dust) the accelerator had no response and animate of metal petered out, gracefully, but without remorse:


But, hey, it's June, and the grass is green and the fields are yellow with buttercups, and the sky is blue, though the wind be strong and the clouds on the horizon heavy, and I need a walk, and a mile or so is no great thing, though in the end I got a lift from a satirical builder friend who was forced to attend later after I realised that despite the reassuring sound of the pump the radiators were not getting warmer nor the water hot. I had misread the oil levels, there were no oil levels, the cupboard was bare, the tank empty, the next boat on Friday, and 900 litres will cost more than £600. A helpful fifty litres were not enough to force an oil flow along the almost level gradient, so I starve until Friday or, more accurately, go without hot baths. Now is there an immersion heater that no one told me about, pray? But everything is so green here, so sharp the change from early April, and there is so much good will here ...