Morgan ownership brings a sort of madness I suppose. Many would say that I was mad to buy one, but like many others I was wooed by the sheer beauty of their form and in an act of almost total irrationality find myself loving and cosseting my eccentric purchase.
The garage nestling under the Silver Birches |
The Morgan's garage is of the sectional concrete variety, a choice that I now regret and wish that I had got a wooden one instead, perhaps avoiding the problem I have in the winter months of trying to limit the amount of condensation formed.
In an effort to control this, I have carpeted the floor and lined the walls, whilst keeping the main window open at all times, the orifice being protected by a metal mesh panel to keep out the birds etc. Additionally all the corrugated openings in the roof panels have been left open to allow full airflow, fine when the weather is calm, but on a day like this, with gale force winds, hundreds, nay thousands of seeds from the two silver birches, nicked as seedlings from the Forest of Bowland when I was knee high to a grasshopper and that are now 70 feet high, blow in and shower on to the dustsheet protecting my little darling.
Inside the 'luxury' accommodation. |
Because, after all, the last thing any self-respecting Morgan owner wants, is dust on their dustsheet!!
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