This morning as I was walking Esther to nursery, I noticed that we had managed to acquire a flat tyre overnight.  How did this happen?

A month ago, one of our neighbours was redoing her kitchen.  Out came the old one, in went the new one.  However, when the old one came out, most of the rubbish was dumped in our parking space. Sharp objects and all.  We complained to the neighbour and she said that she was going to get someone to clear it away.  About a week later, all of the rubbish was finally taken away.  They even made an effort to clear the small sharp bits.  Obviously they didn’t do a good job.

When I got back from taking Esther to nursery, we opened up the boot and got out the spare tyre.  (That was easy).  We then got the tyre wrench out.  (Also easy).  But where was the jack.  Had Honda supplied us with a car without a jack?  How could that be?  We ended up calling the Honda garage that we’d bought the car at to give us instructions to find the jack.  It turns out that you have to climb into the boot in order to get the jack out.  (Well not quite, but a lot of your body has to be in the boot before you can even see the jack).

After that, it all went quite well, we followed the instructions from the manual (I know it’s not very manly, but fortunately, I’ve never ever had to change a tyre).  Old tyre off, new tyre on, old tyre back into the boot, and away we go.  Ruth is a little worried about driving just now.  (We watched an episode of Scrubs last night in which J.D. changed the tyre of an old lady, only for it to fall off as she was driving away!)  She’s going to the tyre fixy place to hopefully get the tyre fixed and the old tyre back on where it lives and the spare into the boot where it lives.