The Traveller was misbehaving, so I took the cylinder head off it and found a small but terminal crack. I've found a replacement in Dorset, and am borrowing a car to go and get it, and generally getting on with it. The whole job should cost me about £100, all in.
Someone who dwells out there in People Carrier Land commented acidly, on hearing the news, "I thought at the time that you should have got a modern car". Hey ho. Different strokes. I chose this car because it was cheap to operate (no road tax, fully comp insurance for £98 per year, cheap spares, I can do the maintenance myself) ...and fun, of course. And so far it's done 25,000 miles with me, mostly up and down motorways. Ideally I should like to be working towards being car-free. Having a car is a bit insane, in the great scheme of things.
There are folk who get affronted by people being "different". The stepmother was the same. When I 'came out', she seemed to think that it was done to annoy her... it doesn't occur to them that they are the different ones, from where I'm standing. Fortunately, I'm not alone. So hurrah for people who just happen to be another flavour than vanilla.
Though I do like vanilla. I have a pot of vanilla sugar in the kitchen. It has its place. On apple slices, porridge, melted into a pan for Tarte Tatin- I made a really good one of those last week...
OK, mildly funny story from yesterday.
I picked up a repeat prescription for oestradiol valerate from the surgery, and dropped it into Boots the Chemist.
I called in later to pick it up. The young pharmacist, whom I hadn't seen before (most of the staff there are old acquaintances and v friendly) anxiously ushered me to a quiet corner and said that the dosage on the prescription was unusual. "There's a reason for that," I said. He looked more closely at me, and said, "Ohhhhh.... I understand". We smiled and parted.
So hurrah. And slightly boo.