February it was Annie, my 30 year old, Series 3 Land Rover, who passed not quite with flying colours, as she did have one advisory but at least that one minor detail can be fixed by Mud, on the front drive for minimal cost and frankly, for such an old vehicle, one advisory is pretty good going all things considered.
Tomorrow, however, it is the turn of the modern Jap’ truck, Thomas and I am absolutely dreading it. It’ll be my job to inform Mud of exactly what he (Thomas that is) failed on because, as with all modern day items, he hasn’t been built to last, in fact I doubt his manufacturer planned on him still being use on a daily basis, some 8 years after purchase and, as such, there will be work that needs to be done, it’s just a matter of finding out what!
And here in lies the crux of the problem where modern cars are concerned. It is no longer expected of or possible for owners to do repairs to modern vehicles:
- Mud won’t be complaining about gravel digging into his back as he tries to carry out the necessary repairs.
- He won’t be moaning about how it always seems to be raining/windy/sleeting/snowing (delete as applicable) when he has jobs to do;
- There will be no fretting over not having the correct tool for the job;
- The driveway will not resound to Muds’ frustrated expletives: and
- I won’t be dragged away from my vegetable patch to help with some unbelievably difficult/heavy/awkward repair.
Instead Mud will be forced to book Thomas into the garage for repairs and they won’t be cheap, even though our local garage does its’ best by its’ customers and won’t fix something just for the sake of it. Nothing about fixing modern day cars is cheap and I definitely don’t want to be the one to tell Mud how much the bill is going to be and this is why getting Ciggy on the road is so vitally important and why Mud has been making a push to get her various components cleaned and refurbished.
This weekend we came one step closer to that goal, with newly purchased Rocky Mountain door tops and the newly refurbished truck cab fitted, loosely, to the main body. She at least now looks like a Series Land Rover, from the outside that is. Open the door and with no seats, floors, engine or gearbox in place, you could be mistaken for thinking you have somehow been transported to the world of Fred Flintstone.
Mind you, one way or another, Ciggy has to be roadworthy before this time next year, so that Thomas can retire to the scrap yard and I can have a less worrisome MOT time because, generally speaking, anything the Land Rovers fail on can be fixed, on the uncomfortable gravel drive, amidst all the angst of missing tools, bad weather, stupidly positioned fixings and swearing, by Mud, without the need of computers …… except this one ……… to order the parts!