Supplemental

All four brakes had to be replaced on the Subaru, the bill coming to a cool $717.32. This is where I make a strangling sound and fall down, thrashing and frothing at the mouth. No wonder the wheels were making such god-awful noises. Our garagiste said that the rotors were starting to get worn because the brake pads truly were worn down to nubbins.

I have the best mechanic in town, by the way (apart from the fact that the Volvo just doesn�t want to run anymore, and I�m sure that�s not his fault). His business is very family oriented (his wife and daughter do the reception and paperwork and his son used to work for him, but that�s another story) and when I smashed the Volvo into the bridge in 1999, he looked after absolutely everything while we were away in Greece. They had a courtesy car for us this morning, which was really nice, and Hubby took it to the office (he couldn�t walk, we�ve had so much rain, probably as a result of Katrina playing around with the weather systems), returning home to pick up the package to FedEx to the film company making this WWI extravaganza. I went with him, and we first had to put some gas in the courtesy car before heading out towards the highway. Gas will be hitting $1.34/litre before today is over and the service centre already had the sign with the new price on it. Anyway, coming out of the service centre, making a left from Park Street onto Belvidere, Hubby somehow thought that he was at a four-way stop, and started turning as a car was coming down the hill directly for us. I burbled something in nonsense-speak, in a suitably manic voice, and he avoided an accident. That was insanity No. 1.

We got to the FedEx pickup point, which was inside one of those humongous office supply stores, just minutes ahead of the FedEx guy himself. He ended up helping Hubby fill out the form, which was a good thing, and then he was gone with Buddy Boy�s package. We drove next to the garage to retrieve our car. Then, our bank account much depleted, we bought coffee at the Pause Caf� and headed home. We decided almost at the last moment to turn into a gas station to buy gas before the price went up. The place was hopping. It was a full-serve gas bar with only one attendant who was being run off her feet.

We positioned our car at the pump and she stuck the nozzle in the tank opening but forgot to start the gas flowing. She was about to charge Hubby for a full tank based on what the previous guy had bought, but he set her straight on that one, she apologized, and started filling our tank. Then when it was full Hubby paid the bill and started to drive away, slowly. We heard this strange noise and felt a strange sensation, and noticed that the gas nozzle was still stuck in the car! The woman hadn�t uncoupled us from the pump! That was just too weird. It meant backing up so she could unhook us. Luckily there was no explosion and no damage to our vehicle. But a bit of gas ended up spilling and now the car stinks.

So that was my afternoon. Not a great one, by any means.

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