I Don't Believe It!

To borrow a phrase from Victor Meldrew, I don't believe it, I really don't believe it! Just when you think your life is much too difficult, another problem pops up and brings everything to a complete standstill. On Monday morning I took Emily to the other side of town to start her new job, all seemed to be going well, we got there in good time and after wishing her luck I headed home. It began to rain - that irritating sort of rain that forces you to keep turning the wipers on and off. There was not enough rain for the intermittent wiper function to be useful but it was still necessaries to keep clearing the screen. Suddenly the wiper flickered and then stayed firmly stuck in 'ground old Duke of York position (half way between up and down).

I got home and tried everything I could think of to rectify the problem. Nothing worked, so I had to make an emergency dash to see my mechanic. What I thought would be a quick repair turned into an over night job with a bill to match. I was car-less, but my step father saved the day by lending me his car over night.The Galaxy needed a new wiper motor and new linkage, but when my mechanic found out how much the new parts were he sent them back and set about making the most of the parts that were causing trouble. after stripping it all down and cleaning everything up he coaxed the wipers back to life. It still cost £170 because Ford insist on burying all their parts in impossibly tight locations, so it takes loads of time and effort to get at them. I hope this is more than a short term fix because new parts will cost about £700 and with labour on top it would be around £900!! I have had a stern word with the car, and warned it that it's days are numbered! I really hope no other problems rear their ugly head for a few weeks.

Train to the North and Back Again

I have got another horrible cold and my breathing really hurts. On Saturday morning I woke up feeling sorry for myself after a very bad night. Robbie was away 'plating trains' so I rang him to remind him that I want to be cremated not buried! The they had made a very early start and rail tour was well under way heading toward Blackpool, Robbie was concerned that I felt rotten and he offered to come home. I gratefully accepted his offer and he was left stuttering and spluttering trying to think of a convincing reason why he couldn't come home. I didn't really expect him to come home, but I couldn't resist making him squirm. I dosed myself up and got on with my jobs which included taking Sam to his friend's party and doing some food shopping. The party was at a go carting circuit which must be run by the secret services because it is so badly signposted that we couldn't find it and everybody was half an hour late.

I spoke to Robbie later on Saturday evening and he assured me that he would get home as quickly as he could in the morning because he was worried about me. Sunday morning dawned and by 10am I still had not heard from him so I rang him, he said he had just woken up and he was sitting up in bed enjoying a cup of coffee. He told me that he would be on his way home after breakfast. By 3pm I was starting to wonder when he would be back, I rang again and he said he had just finished his breakfast and was having a coffee – he hadn't even started his journey! He finally got home at about 7pm and he was still talking about his wonderful breakfast – what is it about Robbie that makes everyone want to feed him? On the way back from the station we needed to stop for fuel, it had been raining and when stopped the car the wipers were not straight, Robbie protested loudly, he couldn't possibly refuel a car with wonky wipers! He sat there arms folded demanding that I should straighten the wipers, I didn't and he muttered and moaned all through the refuling and payment process.

Crazy Ideas 18.09.2007

As if my previous entry about coping with Robbie in retirement wasn't enough for me to worry about, I now have something else to cope with. One of his colleagues has been putting silly ideas into his head. He suggested that Robbie should buy an old station to live in so that all his railway junk could be displayed in the right setting. Robbie is more than capable of thinking up his own crazy ideas, he doesn't need any help! When we were in Norfolk he spotted an old station building in an estate agent's window, thankfully the magic words 'sale agreed' were emblazoned across the picture. To me it looked like a dilapidated old shed, but it cost almost as much as the value of our house! That really isn't my vision of the future, but from the sparkle in his eyes when he was talking about it, I suspect it is Robbie's idea of heaven.

Now from one disturbing thought to another, sadly I have to mention the 'F' word yet again. Ford, I detest Ford! Last week I had the wiper blade stolen from my Galaxy. Frustrating, but not the end of the world - or so you would have thought. We drove to Halfords to get a replacement and stay legal, but the wipers that claimed to fit didn't, typical! Next I contacted my garage and he arranged to have some wipers by the following day (Friday), I popped in to have the wiper fitted and these were also the wrong fitting! I waited while the garage man phoned several suppliers and eventually after providing my full registration number and loads of other info he found the right blades. They were delivered by courier later in the day and I had to go back again to have the blade fitted. Just another device by Ford to complicate what should be simple and squeeze extra money out of the poor fools who drive their cars.

By Sunday the car had a warning message saying 'Alternator Workshop' and as the car has had a history of battery charge problems it was booked in to have the problem checked. By Monday it had developed another fault which I feel sure must be clutch related so I am feeling totally frustrated. I dread to think how much this little lot is going to cost!

Completely Normal! 02.07.07

Robbie (as you may have noticed) can be a bit irritating at times. He has to do things his way and if I deviate from the plan (which only exists in his head) he becomes completely irrational and I always end up having to do it his way just to shut him up. It can be very simple things like how I set the plates out when I am dishing up our evening meal or how I load the trolley when we are shopping, I could go on ....and on, but I'm sure you get the idea. About once a week Robbie gives his "no, I'm not autistic" speech this always ends with him telling me that he is incredibly 'normal' compared to everyone else in the rail industry. Incredible as that sounds I haven't yet met anyone who has disproved his theory!

At the weekend the rain was responsible for a full scale tantrum from Robbie. I took him to Tesco's in the rain and when I turned the engine off the wipers were in the out position rather than tidily in the off position. He couldn't cope, he demanded that I turned the car back on so that I could put the wipers straight. When I refused he ranted, folded his arms, stuck out his lower lip like a sulky child and finally stomped off into the shop still muttering that it was simply wrong!

The rain has quite a lot to answer for, Robbie has decided that he would look good in a raincoat or to be blunt about it - a flasher mac. He even sent me the link to it on the M&S website and he was devastated when I burst out laughing and told him he couldn't possibly wear that! Poor old Robbie, he will have to be disappointed because there is no way that I am going to let him wear that!