Yesterday was productive and pleasant, featuring a trip early in the day over to the huge Toyota garage in Trowbridge. My spare set of car keys stopped working ages ago, and I took them to the local garage to get them fixed. The car was in for a service or something, and they said they'd sort it for me at the same time. When I went and picked up the car, however, the keys still didn't work. According to the helpful chaps there, they were "buggered" and needed to be dealt with by a Toyota specialist.
The spare keys went into the drawer, forgotten about until each time Mr WithaY wanted to use my car, and had to borrow my keys, when I would say "Damn, I really must get that spare set of keys fixed." And then didn't, obviously.
Until yesterday, that is. Suddenly enthused, I rang the Toyota garage on Thursday and made an appointment for Saturday morning, expecting to be there for hours. Mr WithaY said he'd come with me, so we set off in the pouring rain*.
We were held up for quite a long time initially, as there had been a very nasty accident on the road out of the village. A head-on smash involving a Landrover (with bullbars) and a much smaller car. It looked as though the Landrover had been overtaking and the smaller car had come out of the junction and met it face to face. There were about 8 cars all parked up at the sides of the road, people milling about, and as we finally inched past to freedom, several police cars and vans were powering towards the scene, blues and twos ablaze.
Despite this, we got to the garage on time, and were greeted by possibly the dopiest young lady in Trowbridge. And that's saying something.
Dopy young lady: Hello there...can I help you?
Me: Yes please. I have an appointment at 11 to get my spare car key reprogrammed.
Dopy young lady (backing away, consternation on her face): Um....go over there (points in the direction we were already walking.) Go to the counter and ring the bell for the service department. Over there.
Me: Yes, I will, thank you.
So, her job seems to consist of getting in the way of people who are walking to the service department and tellling them to go to the service department. I wonder if she gets a bonus for reaching certain targets each week. I thought perhaps she might bring us a cup of tea or something, but no, we never saw her again.
I handed over my car keys to the nice man in the service department, telling him that the spare set needed to be re-programmed. "Oh no," he said. "They probably just need a new battery." I explained that the helpful chaps at the local garage had replaced the battery and it still didn't work. He frowned and took all my keys off round the back, asking us to take a seat in the waiting area. We did, and a few minutes later he was back.
He handed me the keys, saying: "They just needed a new battery. They're fine now." Gah. When I asked him how much I owed him, he smiled and said "Oh, don't worry about it. That's fine." I was touched, till I realised he must have pulled up my records on their computer, and had seen that I paid them almost two and a half grand not that long ago. I daresay they thought they could spare me a key battery.
We drove home through torrential rain*, then off to the supermarket to stock up on food. Mmmmm food. Also bought the Robert Downey Jr version of Sherlock Holmes, which was thoroughly enjoyable. It had the feel of an offbeat superhero movie, which I liked.
In the afternoon we paid a visit to Father-in-law WithaY. He was in good spirits, and gave us the "You're doing far too much" lecture, which we listened to in dutiful silence, before heading off to do Yet More Stuff.
Yet More Stuff included going to the DIY shop and buying a blind for the kitchen, a wooden Venetian one, something we've been saying we really must do for about 3 years. Mr WithaY has fitted it this afternoon and it looks splendid. I cleaned the windows before he put it up, but of course what with all the drilling and so on, everything got covered in very fine dust, including the bloody windows. Arse.
Today has been busy as well. We have emptied out the loft, as we have the Insulation Man coming next week. There was a leaflet posted through the front door a few months back, offering cavity wall and loft insulation at bargain discount priced, subsidised by Wiltshire Council, so we applied, and are getting the house insulated for about £300, bargain.
Oh my word we have some shite in the roof. There were boxes full of random junk from when we moved here, most of which will be taken to the tip. There were some carrier bags with books in, which I will sort out and either put in the bookcases or take to the charity shop. There was a ton of my stained glass supplies, all my tools, panes of glass etcetera, so I need to find a safe place for them to be stored. There was a stack of re-enactment related bits and pieces which we will have to find a new home for. There were boxes full of empty boxes. Why? I have no idea.
It was like Christmas. Especially as all the Christmas decorations had to come out of the loft too. They're currently in the bathroom.
We also had a long discussion about whether we can get the bear outfit dry-cleaned. I am loth to take it to the shop unless I know they can do it. Duvets, yes. Bear outfits, possibly no.
Oh come on. Everyone has a bear outfit in their loft, don't they?
Other news: Brother in law is home from hospital, hurrah hurrah hurrah. Gorgeous guitar teacher, however, is IN hospital after fracturing and dislocating his ankle playing cricket. He fractured his hand not that long ago** so I think I may suggest that he gives up cricket for something less dangerous. Rugby, maybe. Or ice hockey.
*Traditional May Bank Holiday weather
**Well, two summers ago, maybe