Auto-electrical serendipidy

Sunday duties this morning took me St Saviour's Splott for a nine thirty start. It's eighteen months since I last took a service here. A nave altar is now in regular use there, bringing the Eucharist close to the congregation. As the service started, the radio mike detached from my belt, fell to the floor and spilled its batteries at the very point where I was meant to be censing the altar. I had to abandon it and talk louder, probably excluding users of the hearing loop in the process, as I couldn't get the batteries to stay in their compartment. I have never loved radio mikes. Unnatural noisy horrid things. At least the church acoustics made good use of natural voice projection.

From St Saviour's, I went to St Germans to celebrate Mass there. It's a much bigger church in which a radio mike is a necessary evil when you're not at the lectern or in the pulpit. Fortunately it worked well, although it was over-loud for my taste, making vocal restraint necessary, rather than facilitating natural projection. Even so, it was good to be back in familiar churches, among friends.

I met Clare in the Riverside Market after Mass. As we were leaving, I realised that the car indicators weren't working and drove straight to Kiwk-Fit in Canton, to see what could be done about it. Getting the car off the road in safe place was my priority in an area dominated by double yellow lines. I was able to park in the work-shop car park. I suspected that it might simply be a blown circuit fuse, as this happened a year ago. 

At the time I learned that our 21 year old Golf has a non 'standard' fuse box, and it took a day to source the appropriate fuse. The mechanic who dealt with me acquired a couple of fuses then, and I remembered that the spare one has been in tucked in my wallet ever since. I'd hoped that the mechanic in charge would be able to find out easier than I where the blown fuse was located, but it was less difficult to locate and replace than I'd initially imagined. In a few minutes we were on our way rejoicing, but not before raising a laugh with the duty mechanic to whom I told the story. Without doing a thing, Kwik-Fit was responsible for fixing my car a second time around.

After lunch, relieved that fixing the car was less of a problem than I'd anticipated, I drove over to Bristol to see Amanda and James, a belated Easter visit.