Linda Hill has given us the prompt of MINI/MAXI for this weekend’s SoCS.
As I work my way through my reader this afternoon (for some reason everything stalled on my laptop for almost an hour, so I’m not half as far into my blog as I’d hoped), it seems everyone had a Mini!
I had one too, one that was hand painted royal blue, and purchased from friends up the road for £100 shortly after I passed my test on February 15th 1978.
Oh dear. This little car didn’t need the choke out to start, even on a cold morning, but should it stall, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of it starting again. It died on me one evening coming home from work, at a busy set of traffic lights (which yo-yoed between a roundabout and lights for the next ten years depending which political party was heading the council) and did anyone offer to help me push it out the way? No.
I called my BIL and he came to rescue me. Turned out the engine was terminal, so I needed another car.
He came with us, and we purchased a Ford Anglia. The old lady literally tucked it up at night with a blanket and greenhouse heater in the winter, so for £290, it was mine.
‘This’ll do you for a maximum of two maybe three years,’ he said.
That was ample time for me to get to grips with driving, and sure enough, two years later she was out of commission, and I was the proud owner of a bank loan and Renault 12.