Well OK, I’ve had the car for three years today, but it’s actually six years old.
In the time since I bought it, I’ve doubled the mileage on it (57,000 to 114,000) which means I’ve averaged 19,000 miles a year in the damn thing. Thank God last year was a lower-mileage year, or I’d be well over the 20,000 per year. At the moment I’m doing about 350-400 miles a week in it, which is going to break out to be about the same again this coming year.
In that time I’ve had one serious clonk (December ‘09 with the fence) and three lesser ones (two involving deer, one just a smashed door mirror) as well as a range of scrapes that got documented a while back, although they’re all gone now thanks to the bodyshop farce after the December ‘09 crunch.
Somehow I’ve managed to not get any points on my licence – not even ones for speeding, which is nothing short of miraculous – and I’ve done well.
The only downside is that I’m back to square one with the insurance, having lost my two years of no-claims back in December. Ah well. Swings and roundabouts, and all that.
I don’t know how much longer the Mondeo will go for – it’s started having issues and needing work, as I mentioned when it got the MOT last week. But I’ll keep it ’til it becomes either too expensive or too much of a pain in the arse.
Today dawned effing cold but clear and bright, so we decided to take Hound off to the beach. Well, we were up in the area anyway for other stuff (delivering bits that Herself will need next weekend, of which more at some other point) so it made sense to go up to Wells-next-the-sea as well.
Hound loves the beach, and thinks it’s a fantastic way to spend an hour or two. And to be honest, I’m hard-pressed to disagree with Hound on that score. Even in early March, a day at the beach is ace. Many many moons ago I lived in Weymouth for two years, and the ability to go and sit by/on the beach whenever I wanted was probably one of the best bits of living there.
So Hound spent an hour running round the beach and then walking back through the pine barrens between the beach and the car-park.
We’ve had other stuff to do this afternoon, but Hound thinks it’s been a good day anyway.
I really worry about one of my colleagues. He’s mentioned on several occasions about his lack of navigational ability, but last night took the biscuit.
On leaving Bury after the company bowling trip last night (i.e. not the normal “departure location”) he took the wrong turn. His route should’ve been from Point A on the map below to Point B. A nice easy run. However, the route taken was slightly different…
One hell of a diversion...
Yep – a wrong turning meant that he went from Bury to Norwich, back down to Newmarket – past the place he lives! – to come back to Mildenhall.
I despair…
It seems to be becoming a bit of an annual event – the same thing happened this time last year – but once again I’ve lost a sodding hubcap from the car.
I don’t know how, I don’t know when. I assume it’s been to do with potholes, big puddles in the road and all that. But I don’t know for sure.
What I do know is that for whatever reason I seem to be really good at losing the sodding things. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a spare in the garage at the moment, but once that one’s used, it’ll be time to buy some more.
Fucking things.
Part of my 2010 project is about getting back out with my camera – or at least trying to. And as part of that, I’m going to work on Amateur Photographer magazine’s “Amateur Photographer of the Year” competition.
The first round of it is due to be in next Friday, so I’m planning to take some time today to go out and see what I can do.
It’ll mean taking Hound out too, as I’m off to the coast – the project is about the interaction of water and land, and there are some fantastic environments for that kind of theme around here.
We’ll just have to see what comes out of the day. I hope it’s worth the time.
Actually, I’m sure it will be – even if it doesn’t come up with the results I want, there’ll be something from it.
[Update : Well, I was going to go, but then it's chucked it down with snow. So currently re-debating the plan]
Yesterday we went off down to London to see Depeche Mode at the O2.
It was a gig that’d been postponed from 30th May last year, due to the lead singer developing gastroenteritis, if memory serves.
I’ll write more about it when I get time, wake up, or generally get round to it.
How smelly do you reckon someone needs to be in order to get thrown off a flight?
“People were just mumbling and staring at him,” said a woman who sat near the man, according to The Guardian, a newspaper in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, where the flight originated on February 6. It was a very uncomfortable situation, she added.
Another passenger described the smell as “brutal.”
Pretty damn smelly, I’d suggest…
