A person gets attached to a machine. Certainly it's an often rocky relationship, cruel words exchanged, accusations about lack of oil, poorly sharpened blades, we all make excuses and it can go on a bit to that point where an exhortation to the Great Oneness is made. The thing about geometry, it doesn't actual listen and that's particularly the case when a steering shaft breaks.
It was The Artist who noticed it first, I thought it no more than a moment of
creative angst, but no! Parish's steering had surrendered. It wasn't that he
didn't want to turn, it was just because he couldn't turn. He and I have had a
long innings, and it's always possible that he can be fixed, it would mean
several new parts. Worth a try, he's well over twenty years old, and I'm loath
to say goodbye.