It’s now 21.57 and we’re enjoying the perfect ending to our non too perfect first day of “Living The Dream”. Glass of red, risotto, favourite playlist, soulmate. (Obviously this list is in reverse order) And now comes the coffee and choco digestives.
Clear cold night outside, but we’re toasty having now mastered the heating system.
Earlier today, in fact 60 minutes short of our planned leave time, it almost seemed as if our dream had become the shortest in living history. The reason? Brainless Bri had overlooked the fact that this beloved beast of our ours has a rear overhang longer than the bottom lip-plate of the average pouting Amazonian Chieftan.
Consequently, despite the fact that I’d removed both driveway gates and trimmed the overhanging branches, I overcompensated for the car parked opposite our drive, swung out too far right and proceeded to wedge the back end against the protruding gate bracket. It was at this point that I had hoped to awaken from this nightmare scenario and breathe a sigh of dawnbreaking relief. No chance!
Mary-Ann’s look of astonishment and disbelief was agonising. Especially, when the damage to our baby new MOHO became apparent.
To make matters worse I had effectively blocked off our road from all traffic, which didn’t go down a treat. It was well and truly stuck. No way forward and no way back.
Mind whirling like a dervish there seemed to be only one way out of this cruel calamity. The top four layers of bricks would have to be removed in order to release the bracket. 40 bashing minutes later and the last one came away and with it the offending bracket. Phew. Got the MOHO onto the road and surveyed the damage. !?XX?$%S! – if you get my drift.
Lesson Learned: The back end of this beast swivels on a sixpence when cornering, like a pencil rotating in a compass grip, or George Best’s hips when selling a defender a dummy. Woe betide anyone or anything that thinks about getting in Beastie’s way.
Now at this point, having spent a much earlier hour on my back underneath the rear end fitting holding bolts for the scooter ramp, (yes, we really are aiming to live the dream) I mistakenly thought things had taken a turn for the better (no pun intended) Only to be confronted with a pair of ratchet straps. To say I never knew these even existed, might take you by surprise. If you have ever had the pleasure to meet one of these little suckers face to face for the very first time, you’ll fully understand my complete and utter perplexment. Brilliant design and function, but unfathomable to the uninitiated. I consider myself to be pretty practical with most day to day stuff and more often than not can work out how something new works, but after 20 minutes of fiddling and getting nowhere I had to put myself out of my misery and go and ask that nice Mr Google, who very kindly directed me to Dirt Farmer Jay’s masterclass. After all, we’d got places to visit and people to see and time was beginning to eke away. Putts Corner in Ottery St Mary, near Sidmouth was beckoning . . . .
Bri, the good thing is now that the first prang has already happened, you can relax. No more fretting over how close that tractor is on the narrow lanes in Devon.