50+ and proud of it.

Armed only with a Tesco's carrier bag + two wishbones I toddled off this morning to the very same MOT garage that spotted the movement in the ball joints in the first place. My logic being that if they'd caused me all the trouble over the weekend in the first place then why shouldn't they share in it as well? "Morning', you very kindly volunteered to press in the ball joints for me. I'm off to work now, thanks." "We're a bit busy right now, but the press is over there, I trust you to use it. Have a nice day". Hmm, not part of the plan, but to be fair, as this particular press requires two people to operate it and hold the job in it, the MOT man did help me. The first one went in without much trouble - apart from two small things:- 1) We put the joint in upside down and 2) I swung the press arm around and caught him smack in the forehead causing a lump as normally seen in cartoons. We removed it and put it in the correct way. This one took abo

The wife trotted off to Manchester this weekend to see some college friends whom she hadn't met for about 8 years, and, by a remarkable coincidence, the bits I'd ordered from 50resto turned up. So, armed with a hugely inflated confidence and a nice warm morning, I decide to replace the lower ball joints... It all started with the nice MOT man spotting that there was some up-and-down play in the front lower ball joints (last September). "I can't fail it 'cos the guidelines say I can't, but I'd like to..." What can be hard about taking off the wheel and undoing 3 nuts? Nothing, except that the disk brake back plate very neatly gets in the way of the lower arm - so you have to remove the disk and brake caliper. Now the trouble with a 1½ tonne 1990 Ford Mustang is that they're over-engineered - and those three nuts are actually torqued up to 100 ft/lb. Which is fine, but you have to balance said 1½ tonnes two feet in the air on axle stands to be able

I found out loads more stuff about Rome this time - including that best kept secret - the metro . Buy a ticket for next to nothing and ride for the duration of your stay! However, it shuts at 10:00pm - but the taxis take over then where I also found out that lane discipline is for wimps and the reason why every single vehicle over 2 days old have no straight panels...

One of the nice things about Rome is that you can always disappear down a small alleyway and generally find a decent bar - and avoid paying the tourist rip-off prices found around The Trevi Fountain and so on. This was the case on our last night. We walked due west from Piazza Navona and were discussing the aforementioned fact. "I bet there's even one up there", my friend remarked, pointing up a very dark street. Indeed, silhouetted against the only street lamp, there was a man moving a table. We walked up and sat down at the only table for four left. A nice German couple (from Dresden) sat down next to us a few minutes later in the only two seats left in the restaurant. It seemed only a few minutes after that there were people queuing to get a seat. "We did some extensive research on the Internet and found that this restaurant is the best this side of town", the German chap explained, "we took ages to find Da Francesco in Piazza Del Fico, it's not on

We visited Rome for the third time last week with some friends (who have never been before) and, like most people, went into the crypt of St Peter's Basilica to view the tombs of the (late) Popes. A one-way system operates and we were surprised to find three people coming out the in - two people supporting a clearly disabled elderly gentleman who was having extreme difficulty walking. They were moving very slowly and as they reached the small doorway we held back to allow them to exit. A woman behind us (nationality withheld to prevent a war) harrumphed, overtook us and nearly knocked the trio over as they exited the corridor. "What the f'h was that all about?" My friend looked at middle of the departing trio. "I think they're trying to smuggle one of them out."

Having spent the last 24 hours with a daughter in a state of frenzy, which included her running around with hands pressed against her ears going "no more, no more, I don't want to hear anymore driving advice!", I was heartily relieved to get a text at 11:01 this morning that simply said: "i passed" She got 6 "minors" (whatever they are. In my day, as long as you got from the test centre via points A and B and back again without killing anyone, you passed). I got her a secondhand SatNav as she has no sense of direction - and I have "fully trained her" in it's use:- "Turn left" "Nooo! Not here!"