The Cottage Smallholder

My first car was a blue mini van. Low slung and basic, it carried my wooden toys to Covent Garden market and was my horse and carriage when I went to visit my mum, in Oxford.  In fact it was when I was driving back to London from one of these visits that I heard on the radio that John Lennon had died.

The van had a small recurring fault – the carburettor would stick and we’d slowly grind to a halt. The AA man that appeared on the scene when this initially happened, showed me a handy trick –  he knocked the belligerent part smartly with a hammer. From then on I carried a hammer in the van for this very purpose. Friends were impressed that I could ‘repair’ the van with just a hammer. I never let on.

This knocking trick has come in handy over the years. Our fridge freezer is a temperamental beast that often plays dead. A few weeks ago I discovered that by giving it a good whack and a rocky Strictly Come Dancing hug it eventually sprang back to life with a noisy whirr.

The fridge freezer feigning dead was swiftly followed by the dishwasher refusing to start when required. A smart tap beside the control switch with the back of my hand worked a treat and eventually it returned to normal – clearly averse to this daily beating.

Meanwhile the washing machine no longer likes to be controlled by the onboard computer (who would?) and has to be eased manually through each programme. The toaster has started to grill just one side of a piece of toast – I haven’t tried the bash technique on this yet as it’s rather flimsy. But I’m tempted.

Oh for an appliance that lasts for years. At least the hammer is still holding up after 28 years…