I was eating breakfast a few days ago when for the second time in as many years a corner of a tooth sheared off. I guess that means my annual trip to the dentist will end in another crown job, but at least it can wait till we get back.
I found that Mr Perkins had the equivalent this morning while trying to discover the source of the fuel leak and his general crankiness of late. One of the flanges holding an injector into his head has cracked, after years of abuse. “They” say it’s not something he ate, but that it can happen through being overtightened to fix a leak instead of spending thirty cents on a new washer - I suspect that a lot of thirty cents have been saved over the years on our Mr P. and that they are going to add up to quite a lot of extra expenditure for the people at the end of the line. If it wasn’t us left holding the baby, I’d rub my chin and try to look wise and tell them I would have told them so.
It is a bit disappointing at first being stranded forty kilometres from where we’ve paid a week’s rent in advance, but I suppose that if we have to be stuck anywhere, being stuck in a beautifully cared for Port with security, and Supermarkets, hardware stores and bakery a stone’s throw away is no terrible thing.
It also means that we’ll be here on Monday so we be able to visit our friend Mary in the Tourist Office after all, and Monday is when the real logistical problem begins, when half a dozen parts suppliers return to work to put the weekends enquiries into their systems.
Two I have spoken to today don’t know where to begin, but what happens if all the others send me one?
it doesn’t matter, one replacement and five spares won’t come close to matching the cost of fixing the tooth.
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