Today at last the man with the lifter lorry came to take away Nanna's old car, which we lovingly call the Crapmobile due to its noisy exhaust and top speed of 65. To be fair, it is 18 years old so can legally drive drunk and with only 35,000 miles on the clock, really has been driven slowly around town by one batty old lady, and indeed, Nanna before her. In a sad end to a faithful friend, it has sat in our sought-after tree-lined avenue gathering bird poo. 
There was no fanfare, just a parple of air-brakes as ownership was transferred.Today Jof picked me up from school because Bud was having the Old Person's Free NHS Health Check-up and I read Harry Potter 5 in the car to Gymnastics and back, using that little light by the make-up mirror.
They started talking about buying houses again, not a new one for us to live in but the boring rentable one for other people to live in and give me monetary tribute. I think we should buy the one next door so we can specify that any children living there should not go "woo-woo" all bleedin' day like the kid of challenged reality that lives there now.
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