Goodbye old friend

In keeping with new year traditions it’s been out with the old:

And in with the  altogether more sensible and practical new:

Is it really sad that I cried when I had to leave my posemobile behind in the car showroom?  We’ve been together for 10 years, through good and bad times and she has never let me down – although I did get wet more often than I’d have liked.  Sob.
I’d love to say that she made a dignified and honourable exit from our lives but it wasn’t to be.  The snow saw to that.
B and me had spent the morning gritting the majority of the track from our house out of the metropolis of Cranberry Bottoms because we knew there was absolutely no way the MX5 was going to get out without  a lot of help and one way or another that car had to get out – TODAY!!
Major rant coming up. There may be an abundance of Anglo Saxon words and words beginning with ‘F’  in the next few paragraphs. It’s not too late for you to click onto another blog and escape the full force of my wrath.

Still here? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

As it was, we got the car to the top of our track and then got stuck on the next bit – a double S bend, uphill with a steep bank either side and a ditch to the left.  B in his normal gung ho fashion kept taking a run up the slope and then getting stuck halfway round the first S bend as the back end (the car’s- not B’s) kept sliding dangerously close to the ditch.
As a woman, my first inclination was to get help from one of our farmer neighbours who I knew would be able to tow the car out.  Ooooooooohhhh noooooooooo.  Toooo furkin easy for a caveman, that.

Be beaten by a bit of snow?  Oh no no no!!  Why not keep lets taking a run at it and revving it up till smoke comes off the tyres, that’ll do the trick!!  Backwards and sodding forwards that car went, only to get stuck in the same place every time. The elderly couple who live in the house that B was teararsing past at full tilt were stood at the window watching bemused  and choking on the exhaust fumes and smoke from the tyres while I stood by watching and shrugging apologetically.  Actually, come to think of it that was probably the most action they’ve seen all Christmas.
Eventually, patience ran out as I got bored watching the car whizz forward and then slide backwards, I went for our neighbour.
“Do you need some help,” he said, “hang on, I’ll give you a push.”   Push?  PUSH?  WTF???
Another furkin caveman!!???
What the hell is wrong with men?? Just get the furkin’ tractor, tie a  furkin rope to it and pull the sodding car out.
Ooooooooooh no no no.  “We’ll run behind you and when it gets stuck we’ll push you along,” he says.
Did my ears deceive me????
Can you not see that furkin great  hill in front of you and the furkin ditch, not to mention the solid ice underfoot?
Pushing a car uphill, round a double S bend on solid ice strikes me as a recipe for serious injury but I’m only a woman. What the hell do I know?
So, in accordance with those who reckon to know better, me and the neighbour ran like furkin’ loonies behind the car until it got stuck and stared to slide backwards.  The neighbour threw all his his 8 stone wet through weight at it and heaved with all his might to achieve absolutely furk all. I tended to be a bit less enthusiastic with the heaving. I know the MX5 is a small car but I still didn’t fancy it on my foot, or worse, head as my feet were sliding all over the place.  I’d have put my wellies on if I’d known I was supposed to pushing cars around.  My walking boots are fine but have sod all grip on ice.
 “We’ll bounce it” was his next bright idea. So there we stood bouncing my poor little car up and down while B revved her up, sending shards of ice everywhere.
Did it work?
 Did it hell!!!!
“I think I’ll get the tractor and tow it out”, decides the neighbour eventually.
“Really,”  I said innocently as my blood boiled.
So. That was how my poor MX5 made her final journey  from our home. With a huge hook through her under gubbins and  chained up to a tractor she was towed  ignominiously  onto the road having fallen at the final hurdle, the last part of the track.
How indignified.
Ok, rant over. It’s probably safe to read on.

The journey to the car showroom was hair raising at best.  Very few of the roads had been gritted, as as we know, the MX5 is a seriously poor performer in bad weather conditions.  I’ll say one thing for my Bobby though, he may be a cave man and refuse to be outdone by a woman (ie, Mother Nature)  he is a damn good driver in treacherous conditions and he got us there all safe, sound and in one piece.
The new car was waiting for us as we pulled up.  I felt a moment of panic at the thought of losing my old mucker (that means ‘friend’ to non lancs folk) and very nearly said I’d changed my mind.  Then I took another look at the weather ( it was snowing again) and kept my mouth firmly shut.
The drive home just confirmed to me that I’d made the right decision. There was no skidding or getting stuck, no sliding all over the road and definitely no smoke from the tyres. Just a nice, easy, uneventful drive home.  God, how boring.
Goodbye, old friend. I’ll miss you.

2 thoughts on “Goodbye old friend”

  1. Omg this was so funny it should have been filmed. I could feel the heat from your temper and that made me laugh even more.Thank furk for little farmer D and his ginormous tractor, it's only that big cause he's that small, came to the rescue otherwise i think you'd have furkin slapped them both.Brilliant piece of writing.

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