Last night, as it was Burns Night, we planned to have haggis, neeps and tatties for dinner and a wee dram, as one does. I'd had a very frustrating day at work during which I achieved less than nothing, so I was looking forward to getting home, getting the housework out of the way and having dinner.
Braveheart went out at 4pm to pick up Littlest and I started my housework. At 4.10 pm I received a phone call to say the car had broken down about 100 m along the road and could I go and get Littlest. I couldn't believe it. There was obviously some potent frustrating energy in the air which was going to prevent me from completing anything.
So I stopped cleaning, grabbed my coat and bag and went to get Littlest. Once we got back we walked along the road to where BH's car was stopped in a not very convenient place. We tried to push the car back off the roadside and out of the way and succeeded to some extent but there was an upward slope and we were not strong enough to push the car right up.
BH then had the idea that we try to push the car out onto the busy road in the middle of the rush hour, do a U turn to get it facing in the other direction, then push it back towards home and then across the busy road into our driveway. Littlest (14), who has never driven a car, would steer while we pushed. It was immediately clear that this was not a great idea.
So Braveheart called the RAC. They said it would be 3 hours so we all went back home in the warm and I got on with my cleaning which I did in fact finish. After that things got better as the RAC called after only one hour and said they were almost there. BH went off to meet them and in the end the RAC man took the car to the garage and dropped BH off at home on his way back, so I didn't have to go out and I used the time to prepare the vegetables for dinner.
So we got our haggis, neeps and tatties, which was delicious, and boy, did I need that dram!
In the meantime I have been working away at my candy colours scarf and here is what it looks like now:
Not much more to do!