Well that was a crappy day, that was.

Best laid plans etc.

We had to collect the new car today - it's from a dealer down by Heathrow Airport - about an hour and a quarter away. We'd wanted to get away quickly but Sarah also wanted to go shopping with a friend. Who lives on the wrong side of Oxford. And didn't want to go early.

Pattern emerging?

Anyway, we finally got away, eventually reaching the motorway about 10.30, and arriving about 11.35. Did the paperwork and payment, signed the old car over, checked a few last things and we were off. As part of the deal the new car was to have the discs replaced (they were warped - normal for a 406 of this mileage). As I slowed for the first junction I could feel a gentle pulsing through the brake pedal. Ignore it as feelings of a new car. Happens again at next junction. Hit some dual carriageway and speed up, then brake moderately from about 60mph. The steering wheel jerks firmly from side to side as the old discs brake unevenly. @%$#! I show Chris, and she can see the wheel whipping about, an inch either way.

By this time we're on the motorway heading back, so I eventually find somewhere to pull off and turn round. Stop and call the dealer. They're terribly sorry, but the MOT (road worthiness testing) station said the pads were worn, but the discs were OK.

Well, they were wrong.

So back we went. Swapped cars back and left in the old one, to collect this one when it was fixed.

It was all conducted in a friendly and apologetic manner, but in retrospect I'm quite cross. I'm not some twit that can't tell a petrol pipe from an exhaust pipe, and given the tools I could probably replace the discs myself in less than an hour. And I explained the symptoms and why they needed replacing while we negotiated the sale. Now I'm wishing I had asked to put it on ramps and go over it with a sharp and enquiring eye instead of trusting the dealer and the RAC report. And so we've lost one of our precious Saturdays.

On top of that I bought some guitar pickups (out of new Les Paul) from a guy in the US through Harmony Central a couple of weeks before Christmas (destined to be my Christmas prezzie from Chris). Did they appear? Did they heck. Many failed tracking numbers and a tranch of email later, I received a letter yesterday from Parcelfarce, the post office's shipping arm. My PUs are in Oxford. Would I like to come down and pay £8 admin fee plus £12 tax so that I can collect them? That's great. I paid $100 for the PUs and they want to charge me $35 for the priviledge of them entering this scrofulous country. I guess I should be grateful they were intercepted, since at least I've paid proper legal duty on them.

Count it all joy bretheren.