Great American (or Texan?) service

I really have to comment on the great service John and I have been experiencing lately. It started with John’s car. We dropped it at Tommy Vaughn Ford late on the Saturday morning and it was ready on Monday morning (they close at 1 p.m. on Saturday and reopen on Monday). Cyril had a broken fuel clip. The dealership sent a shuttle to pick John up, and Cyril was home by lunch time. No charge, and they even gave him a bath. (Cyril, that is)

Then our dryer started to make strange crunching noises and started to eat our clothes. We called All Brand Appliance (I can’t find their website) and they came the same day, gave a diagnosis, ordered a part, and installed it the next day. When the dryer continued to make crunching noises, they ordered another part (overnighted and no charge as they got it wrong the first time) and installed it the next day. They had to come back twice more after that, but always as soon as we called them. The dryer is now working fine.

And then our washing machine started leaking. Once again, the plumber (Leader Plumbing) was out the same day and snaked the line. When it leaked again he came back and snaked the line again. And he then spent a good half-hour with us giving us options on what we were going to have to do to fix the problem.

And Wendy went in for her two-year service a couple of weeks ago. The Mini dealership picked me up from work when she was ready.

Are you experiencing such good service over there in England?

Cyril's first breakdown

Some days don’t always turn out according to plan. John and I had signed up to walk three miles in the Run Away with my Heart race in Spring. We were very organized and left home at 7 a.m., giving us plenty of time at the other end. Then, about half a mile from our destination we smelled petrol fumes. Two ladies then flagged us down and told us we were leaking gas.

Fortunately John was completely organized and had all his paperwork in the glove compartment in case of emergency. He pulled into the side of the road, put on the flashers, and made a Roadside Assistance call. A tow truck arrived within 15 minutes, and we returned to Houston with Cyril on the back. The photograph is a little hazy; I took it with my cell phone.

So we never made it to the race.

The truck dropped the three of us at Tommie Vaughn Ford, who now have Cyril. And John and I walked home. 3.7 miles. More than planned!

This is the first problem Cyril has ever had, and he’s almost four years old. We’ll get the verdict on Monday.