Things fall apart...

At forty five years of age, after a decade of neglect wherein the most damage she endured was some wood rot and mice moving in, apparently we upset the natural course of things in uprooting the old girl...

...as I jubilantly skipped down the garden back in October, after handing over a wad of cash and becoming the proud owner of this resplendent vehicle, I pulled back the driver side door to leap inside, only for the hinges to give up the ghost and I landed in the nettles door atop of me.  Olly wedged it back in and declared it a job for 'later'.  We have since watched the passenger door become increasingly wobbly and weak; we await the imminent detatchment.

...next came the column shift debacle - an infuriating event I am not allowed to write about, for my fury is less controlled than Olly's. 

...and just a few days later the mid winter winds picked up, Molly sat a sorry night alone in the Somerset garden savaged by the weather.  A phone call from Olly's Brother Zachary informed us she had lost a skylight window and got a little damp inside.  Said window was found strewn in four parts across the south west.  

My patch up job for the skylight