Cold Start

Cold starting the car on a crisp autumn morning my Dad wasn't the happiest bloke, put antifreeze in it, ran the engine, ten minutes and then he could pull out the choke. On his pale blue Austin the locks needed defrosting, condensation to clear from inside, warm water down the screen and then give it a clean after that, it was ready to ride. In my sixty second year, like that old car, I fear (and it crept up on me without knowing), I now have developed a cold start routine since otherwise I can't get going. Wipe the sleep from my eyes, stretch my arms to the sides, move my head in a figure of eight, a good cough to feel better clears my carburettor, then a yawn, and a two minute wait. I get out of bed but my exhaust backfires, I wasn't quite expecting that, with a moan the good lady hides under the sheets and I'm left with a disgusted cat.