Twelve of us formed a happy band in Penton Mewsey's very well appointed village community hall on the chilly, windy but dry afternoon of Sunday 13th October courtesy of
Mark and
Teresa Johnson to whom grateful thanks. The dear girl had baked two delicious cakes for the occasion and they were very much appreciated.
Sam and his beautiful Mk 2 Countryman had travelled for over three hours from his Weston-super-Mare home; although we were delighted to see the long-distance traveller he brought sad news about
Steve (Stoney) Stone our DVLA wizard whose beloved old Jack Russell terrier had died only the previous day, so quite naturally Steve couldn't face the long journey. We all missed his special style of humour.
We'd all brought our own picnics and were able to make tea courtesy of the kitchen. The eclectic conversations ranged from the problems of maintaining classic vehicles which were inevitably throwing up new snags as the years passed - mainly of course how to eradicate the dreaded tin-worm - to the pros & cons of which breakdown service we considered best value for money. FN editor
Martyn was gathering ideas for December's magazine and
Tracey Clasby regaled us about what happened when she tried riding slowly through a deep puddle on her motorbike (with awful inevitablity she fell off, of course!) We gave a warm welcome to brand-new Club member
Stewart who has rescued a rare and early Basic Mk 1 (no stainless steel trim or opening rear windows but, surprisingly, with a heater - a factory addition to the Basic equipment). The car is currently parked in boxes (!) but is heading for a total restoration to join the ranks of racing saloons.
The time passed too quickly and at 5pm it was time to break the party up. For Bar and I, the A34 was for once reasonalby free-flowing and Gab was able to trundle along at a steady 55 most of the way. We had two friendly toots from passing moderns, to which she responded with that well-known A40 big blast on the horn which is so surprising coming from a small car.
(I had a salutory lesson in not thinking out loud; at one point I commented "How're you doing, old girl?" to which Bar replied, "Oh, okay thanks." I had to admit I'd been speaking to Gab . . . ) She (Gab!) didn't miss a beat and returned home triumphant.
The following day is her 66th birthday (I bought her when she was eight) and she's spending it resting, in company with the VW camper, dry in their garage. Here's to the next time . . .