No, the earth hasn’t opened up and swallowed it as has happened elsewhere in Christchurch.
We’ve finally done it. The last apron string has been cut and the temptation removed. The Peej is gone.
I hadn’t actually driven her since that fateful day of cheating that seems so long ago. It has actually been quite easy not to just jump in the car and head off for Indian takeaways these past few months. Maybe because I forgot to regularly start her and the battery has died. Oh well. Just goes to show I’m telling the truth.
Since then we have used a car on a couple of occasions – once when one of our lovely friends went away for a week (most of the time it sat outside our house) and the other day when the gas bottles finally ran out. At night. As we were cooking. As they do. And a lesson for our future selves – hardly anywhere refills gas bottles at night.
But sometime, a little over a week ago, a neigbour from round the corner asked about the car. A couple more conversations and the next thing I was filling out change of ownership papers and taking my thirty pieces of silver (and some wild pork). Someone who could do the repair work themselves was going to get a great little car. She was the Bobbin’s first car and she had the rusks and flapjack crumbs to prove it. We’ll miss her.
Oh well, we’re up to 4 months of living car free and she’s off to a new life with 14 pig dogs and a hunter. She should probably start a blog of her own.
Mmmm, wild pork…