First thing this morning it began to rain and was a bit chilly so I went out with Nicole (in case I haven't told you about her before she's Mme Clio! we went and did our shopping (I mean mine!) in my favourite store (Waity's) then came home.
It began to brighten up, so I tempted Little Willie with the thought of a ride and off we went. Firstly we went to Wymondham's Mid-Norfolk Railway station to collect a packet from the first train of the day, then I decided to go to see Hughie and Eddie at the farm/garage. Little Willie excelled herself - absolutely 'hossin' along (a Norfolk term, translated into 'went very well'! Until I turned into the farm drive. Then she started wholly gasping - and began to falter and fade......
"Thass OK," I told the lads, "she's jist actin' up a bit - no worries...! Wrong! When I looked in the fuel tank, surprise, surprise...
But Eddie beat me to it with his diagnosis (having had a Bantam himself): "Outta petrol!" he declared. "I know that sound, when it just peters out...! Was my face red? I'll say.
They offered to run me home in the van, to collect some petrol, but as they were rather busy fitting a gearbox I gratefully declined. Then I walked home, collected a can, went to Waity's, bought a gallon, drove back to the garage, and filled her up. And she started first kick!
Eddie followed me home in the Hughie's van and took me back to the garage again to save my feet, which was very kind of them. Thank you, both! I'll try not to make the same mistake again!