The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.....yep.....never a true phrase was uttered as when bombing ( at 60 miles an hour) down the A55 towards Flint (On my way to Liverpool), I experienced my first blow out. There was a loud BANG, the belingo slew across two lanes on the duel carriageway, and I almost sideswiped a large white van.which was just turning off the road.
By luck I groaned to a shuttering halt behind him and limped off the carriageway with cars swerving around me.
I have never had such a close shave before in a car miss hap,and I was surprised just how shaken I felt.
I rang Chris who obviously didn't grasp how lucky I was and he clearly had no faith in my ability to change a tyre, telling me to ring the AA.
This pissed me off and still shaking like the proverbial leaf, I hunted for the jack determined to prove him wrong. Yeap the bloody thing was located in the boot which I had just filled with bags and boxes of rubbish from the cleared outhouse for taking to the tip on Monday. So out everything had to come, and minutes later I must have resembled an old bag lady with boxes , a huge container of old paint tins,an old mop and various mucky bin bags inches from the busy duel carriageway.
By the time I had jacked the car up( I had to go to a nearby house to beg some WD40 to get the thing moving) and had dragged the oil covered spare from under the car, I looked like the wreck of the Hesperus, and yes you have guessed it the spare was almost flat.............
But by 8.45 pm, I finally sorted it all out,and limped to the nearest garage to fix out the tyre, massively pissed off with everything. It was too late to get to Liverpool,and feeling crap that I had let Nuala down, I trudged off home.
pic ( The Iris in the back garden have just flowered.....at least some good news today...)
