[‘Tis that time of year when Holly and her battles with giant alien cockroach Boris, retreat into hiding; a well-deserved rest before the arduous task of editing.
In the meantime, enjoy some of the challenges faced by my Wednesday Writers’ Group as we tackle the 100-word challenge.]
The Wolseley 6/99 Saloon
Dad’s midlife crisis began in earnest in the early 1970’s. His penchant for early model, British-made cars was disguised as “this’ll do for the time being”.
The blue and cream saloon took up residence in the backyard behind the Hills Hoist washing line while presiding over Dad’s vegetable garden. On weekdays, it attempted to ferry us to school, but more often than not, failed in its endeavours.
So began my education into mechanics (and my older brother’s); alternators, batteries, starter motors and lemons.
One positive, the Wolseley made a great hideaway because it never went anywhere — for the time being.
© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019
Feature Photo: Not the Wolseley © Lee-Anne Marie Kling 1978