2013 — 11 January: Friday

Even the refined subset of world 'news'1 fails to convince me it's a happy, safe planet. But then, was it ever, I wonder? Still, the sky is a clear, pale blue. The rain is absent for now. The tea is fresh and hot. And I shall soon be awake and ready for today's initial little adventure later this morning: getting the Yaris window control switch checked and, if need be, replaced.

My second-ever vehicle recall... yet I can't remember any during the 33 years my cheerful chauffeuse was available for duty. The automotive world, at least, must surely be a safer place.

Can Honest John be trusted? What, I wonder, would "unreal" MPGs look like? It occurs to me, I'd better take a book with me to read as the "Comet" toy shop that I enjoyed browsing in (just across the road from the Toyota place) is now castors-up. In fact, I heard a sound-bite to the effect that one in every nine High Street shops is now shuttered. Including my local bookshop, dagnabbit.

I can't now...

... ask Christa whether she ever thought I had a screw loose, but I certainly did earlier today. As I drew up to the lights at the end of Chalvington Road I actually heard the little bugger fall2 and simultaneously felt my glasses become a lot less secure on my face. There's not a snowflake's chance of finding approx. 1 mm3 of fiddly metal while driving, so I just grabbed my spare pair of 'distance' glasses from the glovebox and performed the optical switchover before resuming my trip to Mr Toyota. Who, by the way, took rather longer to do his safety check than my book did to finish.

Mustn't grumble though — the car was cleaned to within an inch or so of its life before I was allowed back into it. And Mrs Optician, past whose new shop I swung on the way home, fitted a new screw and tightened the survivor all without charge. Excellent results.

A swift lunch, and I can now resume my normal loaflifestyle until I visit the now-reopened Tea and Biscuit Emporium across the village.


My word, it's getting chilly out there. As soon as the sun disappeared, in fact. Brrr. I know what will warm me up... that new toy. I shall just (as Dad used to say, though I never grokked the full meaning) have to contain my soul in patience until it's delivered. Meanwhile, there's tea to be drunk ahead of my evening burst of culinary activity. And (it turns out) a truncated Kermode & Mayo film podcast from yesterday; an Oscars special, which doesn't greatly interest me.

Good books have been written covering films that somehow managed to miss out — here's one:


I thought I could hear something... it's pouring with rain out there. Yuk.



1  From BBC Radio 3, mere moments after they've played Flanders & Swann's Ill Wind.
2  Unhelpfully, and probably gleefully, into that bourne from whence no man returns, viz., the mysterious, dark region wherein dwell feet, pedals, petrol cap latches, and such like.