My husband’s van has died. It is deceased and this has been verified by two able body-specialists whose independent prognoses were, ‘It’s f*****!’
Apparently, the engine runs beautifully, the workings under the bonnet are a joy to behold and the silver exterior is looking pretty neat.
Underneath, however, is a whole other story. Very important parts that I know little about, called suspension and springs, are rusted to buggery, and this makes the vehicle beyond economical repair.
Today, it will find a new home in a scrap yard where some willing and knowledgeable entrepreneur will disassemble all valuable components and sell them off for profit before crushing the carcass of this once fine van.
It has served as an able work horse, transporting all sorts of equipment about to many locations, thereby enabling my husband to replenish our ever-revolving bank account.
It has conveyed vast quantities of camping equipment to strangely wonderful places while I have followed, knuckles gripping whitely on steering wheel negotiating new roads. Once there, people have looked on in wonder where the emptying of said van has rivalled the contents and spectacle of Mary Poppins’ carpet bag.
The demise of this van will have far-reaching consequences. Children, in my neck of the woods, may soon be observed running for the hills and screaming as they realise that the money tree may have to be severely pruned.
They will, of course, accept this with their usual aplomb, recognising that a roof over their heads and food on the table are infinitely better than cinema and treats. It may take a while for the process of grief to move through its many stages. But, it will come.
Meanwhile, my grief for this dear friend and invaluable source of income will extend to coming up with such culinary delights as beans on toast and egg on bread.
Alas, poor van, it is no more. My husband is removing all personal effects and will return shortly with a sum of money from the scrappy to be lodged in said voracious bank account while it speculates where future deposits will come from.