Thursday, September 12, 2013

Every Picture tells a Story


Every picture tells a story    

 

When the garage returned the car I was surprised to see the scuff mark on the wing mirror still there so presumably they just restored the damaged insides.  That is the only visible damage.
The insides must be quite complicated because they enable you to move the mirror from the driving seat any which way.  So clever but expensive to replace.

 
I used to do Talking Newspaper which meant driving to a village about ten miles away, often in the dark so MTL bought me the personal alarm.
Just recently I thought it best to have one for the night I walk back from the Wellington Inn - now the nights are drawing in.
I couldn’t find one in Minehead and then discovered my old one which had been hanging in the kitchen all the time.  Testing it - it still had the appalling screeching scream which threatens one’s ear drums.

 
This Tuesday was the evening meeting where we dine together.  Dining is rather overstating the case.  The Wellington is great value – popular with the holiday makers- god bless ‘em but it not the Ritz –as Kim would attest.  We were thin on the ground – just V our leader, P male and J male and I.
We had quite a jolly evening scoffing variously sausages and mash, chilli con carne, a very chocolaty pud and Belgian waffle with fruit compote and ice cream.
V’s car has failed its MOT so she asked P, who passes her village, if he would give her a lift which of course he was happy to do. She suggested that J who lives on a parallel lane to mine should walk me home and he agreed.

 
He has done once before but I like to be independent and always have the option of a taxi.  I had meant to walk, had my alarm and had stripped my bag of all but a few pounds and my lippie.  J would not think to offer – think Doc Martin – but happily agreed when it was suggested.  P has already been to tea which caused my grand-daughter to tell her father;

‘Grandma shouldn’t have these men in her house.’

 J and I had quite a strenuous walk up the lane –he walks very fast and has long legs.  I asked him if he would like a coffee – it was still quite early and he said he’d love a cup of tea. I fished in my handbag for my bunch of keys – they are clipped in my hand bag so unlocking is quite a knack – which I haven’t quite managed, we walked through the garage and as I fished for a different key our ears were assailed with this god awful screaming screech.  Dammit I forgot to tell you that it had stopped working, the last twice I had tested it.  Poor J‘s hair stood on end even more than it does normally and I frantically pressed it to switch it off.  No luck so I thrust it to J to try and dashed into the shed.

 
Why on earth is the light switch out of reach when the floor is littered with implements?  Suddenly I notice a wooden mallet –goodness knows where that came from.  I gave it to J and urged him to smash the smithereens out of the ghastly alarm.  Frantically we looked around for a safe surface and decided on the garage floor.  One mighty blow did the job and before you could say Jack Robinson we were sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea.  Neither of us were hungry and after a chat about our dearly loved spouses off James strode into the darkness.

See photos below.

32 comments:

kenju said...

Yikes. Maybe you can find a personal alarm that is easier to turn on and off. It's nice that you had someone to walk you home, though, and funny that your granddaughter thinks you shouldn't have a man in your home.

rosneath said...

what fun and excitement you have every day, it seems! and now the damn alarm is smithereeens - you will need to find another for sure!

it is funny how men don't think of the accompanying thing for themselves, isn't it? I was at my mother's house recently with my husband and uncle when a man came to the door who was obviously trying to sell her something and asked if my father was around (he is not, being in a care home).

Warning bells rang with me and I spent the next few minutes indicating silently to the two men that they should just walk out into the hall. They never got the hint and once the man had gone and I could explain in full they just looked at me as if I was mad! I think he was actually bona fide but one time a caller might not be ....

John Greenwood said...

You have some wonderful friends! x

Chef Files said...

The mirror looks as good as new hen, money well spent, the scuff may even come off with a tissue and a wee bit of spit.

Personally I blame the car manufacturers for the initial damage myself, they should provide written instructions for women motorists on exactly what mirrors are for and what purpose they serve.

I was pleased to read that your confidence is still there and you are continuing to drive, stiff upper lip, keeping calm and carrying on being British.

I am slightly confused as to why these English men in your group do not have the gumption to escort you home without being prompted. To me it would have been the first priority.

But then again, perhaps it explains perfectly another reason why you fell in love with a thoughtful Scotsman in the first place.

Kim Ayres said...

It's true the Wellington was no Ritz, but I seem to remember the food was tasty enough :)

Now the alarm is dead, perhaps you should keep that mallet in your bag... ;)

Mike and Ann said...

What a lovely story, Pat. And what a satisfying thing to have done -Walloping a shrieking alarm into silence with one mighty swipe of a mallet!!! Isn't there a line something like that in 'The Spaniard who blighted my Life'?

Mike and Ann said...

P.s. Been straining the grey matter and I think it is 'With one mighty swipe I will dislocate his bally jaw'.
Or similar.

LL Cool Joe said...

I bet that mark would come off with a bit of T-Cut and a rag.

I bet that's the first time you've used a mallet for a while. Maybe that would have been a better weapon than the alarm. :D

angryparsnip said...

What a day. But I love that the mallet was right there when you needed it. Maybe you should carry one in your purse.

cheers, parsnip

OldLady Of The Hills said...

My vote goes to carrying that Mallet with you on these walks...it's probably too heavy but what a satisfying weapon...Better than a screaming alarm...lol! It sounds like there is a nice friendly component to your Group---going out for a bite and such....
The Mirror looks pretty darn good! They sure are expensive though---as you said, it's all that electrical stuff that allows you to move it from your arm rest, or wherever it is located....!

Granny Annie said...

This might call for you to appreciate this joke.

"A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing." ~ unknown

Mage said...

You might be able to remove that scratch on the mirror with a little wax. What a charming story this is.

Exile on Pain Street said...

That's so funny. There's a hotel in Manhattan called The Wellinton that I frequent on the nights it too late for me to get back home to New Jersey. It fits your description perfectly; great value, nothing but tourists and not the Ritz.

That's a very primitive looking mallet! Texas. Humph.

Pat said...

Judy: it's quite sweet with Alice - reversal of roles.

Roseneath: yes men are a funny lot but vive la difference.

John: I do - both off and on line.

Chef: I'll leave the scuff until I know if they are going to pursue the matter. So far no news on it. It isn't worth my claiming for the mirror as I pay the first £100.
You couldn't resist could you?
I think the men are nervous and possibly think I may jump on them.

Pat said...

Kim: the food is still tasty but bags of cals.
I'd have a weight problem with the mallet.

Mike and Ann: I don't know the book but from your quote it sounds a lovely boy's book.

Joey: the sheds seem to have lots of mallet type tools in various material. I can't recall ever seeing them used:)

Parsnip: it is quite weird how suddenly a lost or needed item seems to appear from nowhere. Make of it what you will.

Naomi: the mirror is certainly a wonderful invention and I take quite a time getting the three of them right although, in theory, now I am the sole driver they shouldn't need adjusting.
It's hooligan week-end this week where there are crowds of noisy drinkers and a couple of police cars so I'm keeping off the roads.

Pat said...

Granny Annie; :)

Mage: it really didn't feel charming at the time:)

Exile: here in Minehead we are quite primitive. Aaaaarh!
Do you often be too late to get home?

lom said...

‘Grandma shouldn’t have these men in her house.’

It could have been worse, she could have said ALL these men. :D

Nice job on the PA, but get another just to be safe.

SDC said...

Haha, never a dull moment for you. Which is good, as the flies will find nothing of interest on you :o)

Gadjo Dilo said...

It does all sound a bit Doc Martin, but in a nice way.

Good one, Granny Annie - I shall endeavour to use that at the office some time this week!

Pat said...

Gadjo: Doc Martin has grown on me. I wonder if he was ever diagnosed as autistic?

Ms Quotes said...

I agree with Kim about the mallet in the handbag... or maybe a good book would suffice?!
I am now picturing you in a pair of Dr Martens! And why not, they are jolly good walking shoes.
Qx

Pat said...

MSQ: I swear by Aigle. Bugger.
Regrettably they no longer make my favourites and mine are getting holiery than thou.

GYPSYWOMAN said...

oh, dear lady, you are the queen of adventure and excitement! brava!

Pat said...
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Pat said...
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Pat said...

Gypsy: I wish:)

Mike and Ann said...

Not a book Pat- a song.

Pat said...

Mike and Ann: then I shall expect to her it before long:)

Pat said...

Mike and Ann: I found an old recording of it. It won't go on my blog so have put it on my FB page. I did know it after all.

Pat said...

Exile : and there was I thinking poor man having to work late and sleep in a strange bed whilst you are just out on the razzle:)

Guyana-Gyal said...

Never a dull moment with you, Pat!

How I miss all this when I couldn't blog.

Oh my, your granddaughter's really concerned about your moral well-being What will she say when she reads this blog, when she grows up? tee hee

Pat said...

GG: I think she thinks she is grown up. She's 21:)