Having a cow.

Thanks to the Poshmobile, I now have an entire herd of moo cows, I could start a frikkin' dairy and make milk shakes.
And of course I will fill you in on the details. See an opportunity to rant, seize it, right?
So... Yesterday we visited Love's brother, who lives two hours away.
All was fine until we headed back home. After a few minutes, on the mail road, Love needed to change gears from fourth to fifth. POP!
POP? Gears aren't supposed to say POP! POP is a very bad sound when driving.
Especially when immediately after the stick goes limp, making it impossible to shift gears.
Very, very nice indeed, considering the traffic and no road shoulder to speak of.
After the initial panic stop, Love managed to get the Bucket rolling in that one gear she got stuck in. Probably third, because fourth or fifth would have been harder to get her rolling without choking the engine.
(I myself managed to get her rolling in second gear once, although that wasn't my intention. Me: "Oh, that stick thing here? I have to change gears? Really?" Simon: "Er... Yes. But since you got her rolling in second gear, I won't hear of you not managing first gear starts." Me: "Bah...")
Anyway, to make things short, a dirty, beardy man came and lugged the Bucket on his lorry and threw her off at the nearest monkey shop.
Where we will pick her up once they've replaced the nuts and bolts that made the gear stick come loose. Because apparently that's what the problem was. Simon explained on old MGs the stick used to come completely loose, and it's a good thing Mrs. Bucket's didn't do that, 'cause then I would surely chuck it out the window. You see, I'm not always the serene embodiment of calm I appear to be. I find throwing things terapeutic when upset. Hissy fit, me? No, never!
But I do hope it won't cost a fortune to fix the Bucket. Although I doubt that. And there goes the hopes of a mini getaway weekend also. Bah...
Cars are stupid!