Skip to main content

Dirty little thing...

After Wednesday's walk, when I had three dogs in my tiny car, my poor Mini  looked like it belonged to a zoo keeper.  There were paw prints all over the upholstery, and nose prints scattered over the glass.  I'm not saying it was grubby, but it's just as well that my morning drive to Binland is a straight one as I would have needed to just shut my eyes and think of England every time I turned off.  

Anyway, as the weather was beautiful yesterday, and I had a spare couple of hours, I thought I'd take a drive up to the local shopping centre and get the car treated to a wash and go.  There were a couple of cars already waiting, and after a few false starts, I managed to get across that I wanted the top clean done, and that I would be back in an hour. 

A most pleasant time was spent scouring the sale rail in M&Co (I am a classy bird) followed by a small coffee in the only cafe there.  Looking at my watch, the allotted time was upon me to go and collect my car.

From a distance it looked all sparkly and gorgeous, and I upgraded their payment by £2 for a job well done.  I handed over the money and opened the driver's door.  Imagine my disappointment when finding that the interior had not been touched.  'Excuse me', I said.  'This hasn't been finished'.  This is a typically British statement preferable to, 'You didn't even bloody start it'. The boss (I am assuming this because he took the money) called over a younger lad and started shouting at him, all the time pointing at the car and at me also.  I expect he was saying something along the lines of 'the lady not being as blind as they hoped', but the two of them set to with the vacuum, a chamois, some squirty stuff and a duster.  

And here is where a lesson was learnt.  If you stand next to your car while they are working on it, they are extremely thorough.  Three times I went to get into the car, thinking they'd done all they could, and each time, the boss put the flat of his hand up, saying, 'Not yet Madam'.

It all came to a climatic conclusion with the boss picking individual pieces of fluff from my convertible roof, and the young lad doing that chamois leather whipping thing down the side.  If there had been a fanfare and some fireworks, I wouldn't have been at all surprised.

The only thing missing as I drove off was the air freshener, and I tutted a little as I drove off.  This was only seconds before remembering that I hate the fruity air fresheners and the first thing I normally do is rip it off the indicator stalk and double wrap it in a carrier bag to avoid the pungent smell stripping several layers of my corneas before I get out of the car park.

But it looked lovely.

I give it till Monday...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…