Wassapnin?

Legions of loyal readers have quite literally not been asking me what the current situation is. Well, firstly I have a job. A proper job this time, on a real airfield with real aeroplanes, though as yet I haven't been formally introduced to the scrap bins.

Owing to the above, the Fury has been re-taxed & the mods & updates are complete(ish). Today is Remembrance Sunday when the SKCC invades a small Sussex village & lays a wreath on their war memorial - whether they like it or not - fortunately they seem to like it.

I decided not to partake of the blatt before hand as this would be my first drive of the Fury in 2 1/2 months & it's first outing since a fairly major strip-down, but there were no mechanical issues, except the fuel gauge isn't working & on re-starting it at thee café, it sounded like a bag of spanners being vigorously shaken. I shut down the engine, but the noise continued & then it became apparent that it was someone else's starter motor I could hear over my engine.

Good Turn-out

The plan was the same as ever, a blatt followed by breakfast, then a procession to the church. I have yet to arrive as part of the procession in spite of setting off as part of it every time. This year we came to a staggered junction & one car went right-then-left, the next car & the one after it went left. I decided to go with the majority decision, but as we rumbled along, the ETA on my satnav was saying 10:45 ........ 10:50 .......... 10:55 at which point I decided to turn round & follow the satnav on the "fastest" route to the church. As we know Satnavs exist in their own part of the space-time continuum & in spite of me taking the "fastest" route, the cars I was following when I turned back not only arrived before me, but they were parked up & their occupants were out & deep in conversation (probably about where the idiot in the Fury had gone).

Bathed in sunshine again

The service itself was conducted with decorum by the village vicar & was only interrupted by some late-comers (ironically all in German cars) who compounded the faux-pas of lateness by parking up in such a way that the road was impassable, causing a couple of cars to have to back back to the last junction (sigh).