Cars

I passed my test second time in a mini in 1973. Cant remem er how much lessons cost but i had to pay for them out my meagre wage. I do recall petrol costing 6/11d (a gallon) in thr mid 60's though. We have owned a morris minor 1957 for nearly 40 years it has never let us down, the children loved it and the grancdildren like nothing better than sitting on grandads lap in the driving seat going up and down in the back garden. Wwhen we changed our car last year, not the moggie of course, that stays here , we got an automatic and hVe never looked back. Automatic is so straightforward and easy, never having to do a hill start, never cutting out. Can con entrate just on the driving. Brilliant. Go for it elizabeth.

OH's first car was a Morris ?Minor with a split windscreen and no heater. He found a heater in a scrapyard and installed it in the passenger footwell, next to my legs, where it got dangerously hot. Thankfully, he was given his dad's old car, a Singer Gazelle , and started to teach me how to drive on a disused airfield - nearly ended in divorce. I then had proper lessons with an avuncular chap who used to smack my leg if I made any mistakes. After I passed my test I started to drive to work in the Gazelle. It had a column-change gear lever and OH had told me to always start in second gear - not helpful advice when I stalled on a hill and the car kangarooed up in little jerks. When I told him about my problem he said "Oh, didn't I tell you, you only start in 2nd on flat ground?".

oldgoat

Talking about goats, tho, more info needed, please, about taking a goat on holiday. Intrigued!
elizabeth I drive a shift gear here in the uk, actually prefer it cos I actually like inter-reacting with the engine, if that makes sense?, but(sometimes) drive an automatic in the US. That being able to turn right when traffic lights are on red your way, given a clear road, natch, plain gives me the heebie jeebies. I mean. The traffic lights are on red. That means stop. I'm English and a law abiding citizen. Turning on a red light is just plain wrong !!!

I bought a Citroen BX once. It was red, hydraulic suspension - super comfy ride. You could feel the suspension rising when you turned on the engine. Even CDs in the player didn't skip. One night, I had been working in the evening until about 9 0'clock. I hadn't travelled far towards home, when I felt the suspension drop, and the car was shuddering. I stopped on the hard shoulder, and discovered my new exhaust was trailing on the ground. I had nothing to tie it up with, and I didn't want a spark to ignite any fuel, so I did the only thing I could do - I took off my tights, plaited them into a rope, and tied the exhaust up to the bumper. As I continued home, I discovered that my suspension still hadn't come up, and now my brakes were starting to fail. I limped home in second gear, and called the mechanics out. It turned out that my new exhaust hadn't been fitted properly, and had worn through the hydraulic pipes, and also the brake lines. When my mechanic telephoned the exhaust fitters, they accepted liability, and I didn't have to pay for the repairs. This was the worst experience I ever had in a car, and I've avoided hydraulic suspension ever since.

Oldgoat that brought back memories. DH also had a split windscreen Morris Minor. The engine blew up when he was coming back from the North with a carload of wedding presents. He managed to coast off the motorway and into a scrap yard where they sold him a recon engine which he installed and carried on. Meanwhile I was waiting for him to arrive and getting frantic. No mobile phones then of course. Eventually I phoned my parents,and got,the message as he had thought to phone them. It sounds like a Carry On,script in the telling, but was high drama in 1970!

Passed my test at 18. My dad made me change all the wheels round on the car before I took my test so I " won't have to wait for a man to help you! " He also taught me how to change the plugs and adjust the points! I had an old Vauxhall Viva which went well until my friend slammed the passenger door and all the internal workings fell out onto the pavement. Everyone had to climb in through the driver's door for months. All good fun in those days.

When I was learning to drive, DH used to take me out between lessons for some practice. We were out in the suburbs one Sunday afternoon on a narrow road and he asked me to slow down because there was a lorry coming towards us. I said I had room. He said I didn't. In squeezing past I practically ran onto the pavement where a woman and her dog were walking. DH shouted at me (almost unheard of) and I got out of the car and refused to drive any further. He said we weren't going home until I got back into the driving seat. I started to walk down the road. He got behind the wheel and caught up with me and said "this is your last chance. Get in the car." I didn't, so he threw my handbag onto the road and drove off without me. I thought, "oh, he'll stop down the road”, but he didn't! We were eight miles from home and I discovered I only had enough money in my purse to get about half way on the bus! It was very late when I eventually got home. He was comfily settled in his armchair and never even looked at me when I came through the door. I threw my L plates in the bin, but the following day he had fished them out and put them back on the car. I passed my test first time later that year. God knows how, though! Stupid woman.