Spring has sprung!.....

......well we hope so.

As we awoke this morning to the sun streaming through the bedroom curtains, a situation that was the complete opposite to the forecast offered by the Met Office yesterday evening, it was apparent that there was every chance that we might get out for a pootle in the Morgan and also provided a timely reminder that a 'blackout' blind might not be a bad idea.

In the absence of one of the aforementioned blinds, we both wear masks that we have acquired on long-haul flights in the past and I always find it quite alarming on some occasions, turning over in bed to find that I appear to be sleeping with 'Zorro the Avenger!



In the Bleasdale Fells

 Anyway, I digress. The sky was cloudless as I consumed my kipper, not the filleted type for softies but the 'real McCoy', a Manx beauty, complete with skeleton that required some dexterity to remove from the surrounding flesh. It's quite an exercise, requiring a separate plate for the bones and bits and finally, after consumption and following strict instructions from Madame, the careful disposal of the remains in newspaper and a plastic bag to avoid the smell of kipper, not only permeating every corner of the house but the village as well!

Looking west.

What this has to do with the pleasant drive we were about to have in the Morgan, goodness only knows, except for the fact that a hearty smoked herring is ideal fodder for a top-down drive in temperatures that, although considerably better than those we have recently endured, were only likely to peak at 11 degrees, hardly tropical!

Straight into the fells we went, on the first real drive we had had together this year. It was the 22nd March last year when we had our first picnic so this was 3 weeks or so later and, although delightful, still not warm enough to don the knotted handkerchief,  roll up the trousers and slonk in a deckchair!

With cloud, rain and strong winds forecast for early afternoon, we timed our drive perfectly and were back at home after about 2 hours with the clouds just beginning to gather.

With both of us and the car refreshed, it provided a real taster of things to come.

James and me....

.........so many years ago!

Across the sea to Ireland.

Yesterday we booked a delightful apartment at Castle Cove in Kerry, for a week at the end of June, and a sea crossing from Holyhead to Dun Laoghaire with Stena Line on their High Speed Ferry service, OK if the sea is calm, but hellish otherwise!

This is of course an ideal opportunity to exercise the Morgan and we are praying that the weather at the end of June will be sensational, although being realistic, we have to accept that Ireland does get its fair share of rain, so we shall not be surprised if the hood has to stay up on some occasions.

We intend to have an overnight stop on both the outward and inward journey, probably selecting B&Bs in the Kilkenny and Tipperary areas and we are in the process of selecting these.

I have always had a wish to travel the Ring of Kerry and the Dingle Peninsular and we are both quite excited by the prospect.

How I love holidays, especially having had to endure a rather long English winter and for the first of these we're off to Corfu in just over three weeks, (not in the Morgan!), and then some five weeks or so later we are having the trip to Ireland.

Nothing else has been fixed yet for the rest of the year, but it will be, and my firm intention is to watch the 8 day weather forecasts for the UK and when it looks promising just arrange a cottage or B&B at the last minute and do some more touring in the Morgan. There's still so much of the UK that we haven't seen.

Meanwhile, on with the route planning.

The crumbling pile!

Every year I am faced with the task of restoring the Victorian brick wall in our back yard, a tedious, messy and gruelling task that is vital, to avoid the obvious embarrassment and shame of it falling down on next doors three-legged cat that prowls in the shadow of the wall.

The whole wall is damp and the ancient bricks 'blow' at the onset of the first frosts resulting in a condition clearly demonstrated in the photographs.

It is something that preys on my mind each year and I always envisage that it is going to take many Morgan driving hours to complete, but in the event is generally finished in a couple of days. This year the problem has been exacerbated by the need for me to also paint the newly rendered outbuildings to the rear of our shop property.

Anyway, with both these major jobs completed,  I can now get on with a leisurely bit of gardening, interspaced by drives in the Morgan.....but oh I do wish Spring would finally arrive with a vengeance!

'6th'

Yet another stupidity! Why have TV presenters and others in this great country of ours suddenly, and for no apparent reason, started pronouncing sixth (SIKSTH ) as SIKTH !!!!!

Some people may attribute my observations and criticism about many aspects of life today to galloping senility, but the continuing abuse of the English language really annoys and depresses me.

It seems that for many, including the BBC, who were once renowned for their standards, the letter 't' is regarded as almost irrelevant, being habitually omitted in speech. I suppose it is indicative of the general sloppiness in much of society......and then there is the ludicrous pronunciation of the name Ralph as RAIF!!!

Why can't everyone be a Morgan driver and talk proper!

The trouble with the sort of weather we're enduring is that it results in 'old gits' like me being reluctant to get off their backsides and do anything, apart from read a newspaper in front of the fire and mull over all the failings of a country that bears little resemblance to the England I once knew and loved.

But yesterday I did get off the old derriere and got the steed out of the stable, driving to Fleetwood, that gem on the north Fylde coast, where I sat in the roasting confines of the Morgan cockpit, with the hood up of course, looking across Morecambe Bay to the snow-capped mountains and watching the seagulls flying backwards in the cold easterly wind which also carried an increasing volume of snowflakes.

It was an excellent drive and fortunately the roads were dry, despite the snowflakes in the wind, so there was no need for me to embark on a massive cleaning programme when I drove it back into the garage. Hopefully the next time it emerges it will be into warm Spring sunshine offering my wife and I the chance for one of our excellent picnics in the fells.

.......and another thing; what about the suggestion that the use of the comma in written English should be curtailed??? Who are these nincompoops?

PS  Frank Lomax, an owner of a Roadster is following the route of the 1900, 1000 Mile Trial, starting on the 29th April and finishing on the 9th May. He is doing the run in aid of 'Help for Heroes' and if you wish to offer a donation please go to his website http://www.franks4x4-solograndetour.co.uk

Petrol

I found it interesting to note that the forensic evidence, from a house where six children died recently after the property was set alight, reputedly by their parents, found traces of both Shell and Tesco petrol!

This would tend to support my long held belief, shared by many other drivers and incidentally I believe, by 'Honest John', the motoring column in the Daily Telegraph, that there is a distinct difference in the quality of the fuel sold by the petrol companies on their forecourts and that sold by supermarkets.

Apparently, I assume to keep costs down, supermarket fuel does not contain many of the additives found in the fuels produced by the major petrol companies, that are there to protect and enhance engines and their performance.

As a result of this I have never put supermarket fuels in any of my vehicles and have noticed that on most occasions I am paying very much the same price as those advertised on supermarket forecourts.

"E, them's pretty knickers!"

Words uttered by a lovely, elderly lady in a very well known department store in Southport, as she  shopped with her friend, and sufficient to send me into paroxysms of suppressed mirth. It didn't stop there, for the conversation between these two carried on in that beautiful accent and kept me entertained, while I waited for madam to complete her browsing amongst the multitudinous racks of clothes.

This is our regular ritual after we have dropped the Morgan off at Lifes for its annual service: we go for a coffee and then wander around the shops in town, before returning to the sanctuary that is Lifes, whereupon I can start enjoying myself while my wife sits reading a newspaper.

As we returned to Lifes there were two more elderly ladies looking longingly through the Showroom window and as we opened the door to go in, one of them questioned whether we were going to live the dream ( I hadn't the heart to say that we were already living it!) and asked if my wife would kiss the bonnet of the particularly fine red example that the lady was lusting after. This incident reminding us once again of the effect these cars have on many in the population, at least those with a soul, and the fact that we are indeed very fortunate to own one!

Overlooking Windermere

Apparently trade is a little flat at present, but happily, Dave Randall was able to assure me (because I like to keep track of the value) that should I decide to sell, which I am not, I could expect to receive around £4000 less than the amount we paid for the car, FIVE years ago! What excellent residual values our cars enjoy!

Anyway, having feasted my eyes on the muster of Morgans in the showroom, the car was pronounced ready and I settled the bill.

As I busied myself, ensuring that the flaps on our new style hood were well tucked down, because they have an annoying habit of occasionally being forced out by the wind, one of the staff said that one of their customers had fitted a male Tenax fastener to the side of each of the arms of the hood, on to which the female fastener on the end of each flap could be fixed, thus solving the problem.

Home we went with a couple of the said fasteners kindly provided by Lifes and the following day I proceeded with the task, taking photos (now deleted) of each stage for my blog. On the face of it the exercise was very successful and provided a solution to the 'problem'.

WARNING!

However, as I tossed about in bed, my mind in turmoil about the forthcoming budget, the strange celebrity murder 'trial' that was taking place in South Africa, the BBC saga, the banks and where our next trip in the Morgan would take us etc., I suddenly realised that there might be a potential flaw in the modification.

Sure enough as I got into the car with the hood up I realised to my horror that the black material on the hood arm is there to ensure that when you bang your head on entering or leaving, you are not a candidate for E&A at the local hospital. Unwittingly, I had totally nullified this safeguard by adding, what amounted to a centimetre long spear,(the male Tenax fastener) jutting out from the arm, that could quite easily have penetrated my skull!!!

They have now been removed from the car, as has the post on my blog, plus the photos showing my handywork.

The Tenax fasteners should have been fitted to the SIDE of the arm and NOT to the top.

I have decided, on reflection, not to bother and to continue to stuff the flaps down the side of the collapsed hood as usual.