Anyone who read my entry of a month ago will know I had my car stolen around that time - the good old, rusty Laser which had been my companion on the road for many a smog-filled year. Well, yesterday evening we got a call from the police. The car had turned up, and now, as I type, it is once again happily dripping oil in our driveway. Am I happy about this? Well - I'm happy the idiot who stole it got arrested. I haven't felt very charitable towards them, particularly each evening when instead of spending time with my boys I've been freezing my bum off at a bus terminal. But on the other hand - we had a nice, generous insurance payout due this week, and now it looks like we'll get the car instead. It also stinks of cigarette smoke, and I'm yet to check what's under the seats or in the glove-box (the police told me to wear "strong gardening gloves" - very comforting).
Ah well - the long and the short of it is I'm really no worse off than before - and if all I have to complain about is a car that smells of cigarettes, perhaps I have nothing to complain about at all.