A sentence I thought I would never write: I washed my car this afternoon. What better proof of turning 50 & total submission to suburban weekend conformity? Who'd have thought it?
OK, I can hear the sniggers. By way of explanation, I did (on occasions) take the previous car to the car wash. & I would (on occasions) do the interior. However, during the past couple of months we've had the combined effects of building work next door, the railway line development, new water pipes being laid in the road parallel plus unusually high air pollution (smog warnings on the Ring etc). I'd started to notice a thick layer of silt each morning for the past week or so & deduced this was probably not very good for the paintwork. According to the Renault dealer, the auto car wash isn't the best solution & therefore ...
How many times had I seen my Dad do it but not paid attention? Anyway, I worked it out on my own : a general hose down first; a soaping on top with another hosing; the sides, bonnet & back & another hosing; then the wheels etc.. Windows. Then a quick polish. Easy peasy, really, can't think why I didn't do it before - another of those 'male myths' that vanish with the slightest breeze. OK I didn't do a wax polish (or Brazilian) there are limits but the result looks pretty spiffy. In a weird way it was ... almost enjoyable.
What next? Put up a shelf?
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