Busy time, so loads to write about; but the exercise resolution has taken a hit today.
Last night there was a choir concert in our local church which was well attended and delightful. The choir was from north Gower, considered in the introduction to be “from the dark side” and the choir appeared suitably garbed in black and red. The concert was followed by mulled wine and loads of eats.
Today was the latest instalment in our downsizing saga. We divested ourselves of two mattresses, three boxes of “stuff” to a charity shop, two boxes of books to a recycling container in a car park, where they pay you 5p per kilo for books – not that we wanted the money; it just saved walking too far carrying them – and loads of cassette tapes and other stuff to the municipal recycling site. After that we visited B&Q, 10% off day for oldies, and took in a film for Orange Wednesday.
Before we went to the cinema we collected a “get you home spare tyre” from a Volvo garage. We bought a new Volvo earlier this year. It came – we were advised, as do all Volvo cars in UK now -with an electric pump and some puncture repairing gunk. After a puncture, you are supposed to connect the pump to the cigarette plug in the car and pump up the tyre with the repair fluid. This sounds messy, obviously ruins the tyre preventing any repair, and goos-up the wheel. Having just had a puncture and used recovery rather than trying this kit, I decided to buy a “get-you-home spare”. Apparently the wheel space is not big enough for a full size spare. I had to buy a brace and a jack also and the whole lot was just shy of £200. I felt a little miffed since when is a spare tyre an optional extra? And just the tyre cost £115, but with the spare on you should not drive over 50mph. So I would have thought a cheaper tyre could have been provided. But, the final disappointment was to be given the tyre and the wheel separately when I picked them up. There was no valve. So we also had a visit to a tyre fitters, where they cheerfully put the tyre on the wheel, added a valve, and told me they could have let me have a suitable spare wheel for £20!
The film we saw was Great Expectations. It was cleverly produced and enjoyable, although I think Mrs D enjoyed it more than me. I found the usual Dickensian squalor and eccentricities a little too overdone.