Was yesterday a waste of time?

I do like to keep on top of things - it seriously irks me if circumstances beyond my control prevent me from doing so.  Just recently that is just what has happened.  A few Saturdays now have been clogged up by one thing after another, the precise details of which would require intensive research in my diary, and don't belong here anyway.  Suffice it to say that one or two matters of mechanical importance have been neglected.

Last week I realised that my van was due for yet another service - it's every 20,000 miles, but in this business such intervals come round with monotonous frequency - so I booked it in at my usual garage for attention yesterday morning.  I used to take a book with me, and sit and read or chat to the proprietor until the job was done, but now I tend to walk home and attack some task there, repeating the exercise to collect the van later on.  This time there were one or two other jobs that needed attention, in addition to the usual oil change and replacement of various filters here and there, so I said that, if I'd heard nothing to the contrary, I would go back at around 2.30.

Returning home, I settled down to a morning poring over some old family photos, trying yet again to puzzle out to whom some of the 'unknown' faces from eighty years ago might have belonged.  I became engrossed, and before long it was time for a bowl of soup, before fulfilling my promise to get back to the garage.  They had phoned me soon after I'd left them to observe that certain bits of the steering were either worn or broken, so would need replacement - oh, and at least one tyre would have to be changed, too.  I told them to do all except replace the tyre: I would deal with that elsewhere.  On my way back to them, I had a call to say that the work was done, so the only further delay was the time for me to pay the bill.

Even the quarter-mile drive along the road was sufficient for me to appreciate how bad things had become.  It now drove smoothly, without that anticipated 'hiccup' at each unevenness in the road surface.  I turned with some confidence into the tyre depot.  "I've just had the van serviced," I announced, "and attention was drawn to one tyre that is said to be illegal, and another that is unevenly worn; so would you please examine them, replace if necessary, and check the alignment."

The great benefit of going to this particular establishment for my tyres is that they operate an insurance policy, that covers everything above normal wear and tear, and has proved very beneficial to me in the past.  It's a nice comfortable place (I know that we customers have to pay for that, but ...), and it is my habit to pop along there on a Saturday morning every few weeks to have the alignment checked.  If there's nothing wrong, it's free, and it places the van regularly under professional scrutiny as well as giving me the confidence that tyre wear is kept to the minimum.  Yesterday's situation was, in my opinion, the penalty of neglecting these regular checks.  In addition to doing what I had asked, the operative also made one or two constructive suggestions, such as varying my usual tyre pressures in an attempt to prevent excessive wear to the new tyres he was fitting.  I was very grateful for this care, and shall make a point of going back in a couple of weeks or so (2,000-3,000 miles) to see whether the change is proving beneficial.

Workwise, yesterday was a write-off.  By the time I got to our depot, there was little over an hour to go before the office closed, and work was being given out for today.  Today, I did two jobs, which added up to just over 300 miles, and they went like a dream.  I hadn't realised just how much that lumping and bumping had been a subconscious strain.  Now I have to re-direct my attention to keeping the speed down to an economic - not to say legal - level!