Being Made Roadworthy.

I had to take the little Ford over to the big city today, he being due his annual test of roadworthiness. I came back in Son of Frothgar. Remember old Frothgar – he who carried me across the ice with such commendable sureness of foot a couple of winters ago? The son is a fine young chap and a little more sophisticated than his dad, but the old warrior had a certain simple grittiness about him that I found most appealing.

As for the little Ford, I’ve been saying for weeks that there was something not quite right about the front end. I’ve said the same about a lot of things – and a lot of people – down the years and been wrong, but not this time. He needs a new ball joint. Don’t we all?