Listening to: The Ghost That Carried Us Away (Seabear)
Weather: sunny, if a little breezy
Surf: barely a ripple
The little £400 Ford Fiesta we bought as an island runabout had developed a knocking sound that got worse the faster it was forced to go.
"Bugger, it's the driveshaft," thought the sort-of pig farmer - a man whose knowledge of motor mechanics is right up there with Orville the Duck.
We ran the rattling, hammering little thing up to the island's mechanic - a top bloke who knows his stuff and is pretty cheap. My hopes were not high.
The next day my phone rang.
"Is that Malcolm?"
"Yep. What's the verdict? Tell me the worst."
"A couple of wheel nuts were loose."
Memo to self: to avoid extreme embarrassment, check all the obvious stuff first.