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The week before last was one for the books. Not the good books though. The ones you barely get through and never want to return to ever again.

As many of you know — or at least, the 43 of you at least — who read this column on a regular basis because I’m  guessing you have little else to do, I had some car issues come about just after making my final payment on the vehicle.

This bit of news somewhat stunted the joy of not having to make car payments anymore, at least for the foreseeable future. The car got fixed with a noticeable shot to the pocketbook’s face, but it was done well and smoothly, despite the fact that our other car was also due in the shop.

All told, it’s been an extremely expensive month when you add in other expenses that at least were seen on the horizon.

But this isn’t about the expensive repair jobs, but rather the smaller one that was just kind of a slap in the face.

So falling back in time to, I got my car back and after several days of not having it I felt pretty good about having my renewed freedom. You really appreciate the ability to go where you want, when you want without having to juggle one car between two people.

That routine involved having to drive Janeen to work each morning, early in the sun-isn’t-up time of morning so I could at least motor around during the day. A challenge.

But things were right with the world again as I pulled out of the garage Thursday and enjoyed a full day of not having any odd sounds emanating from my car. I loved it. It was like having that new car smell all over again.

Then I went out the next day, a Friday, the end of our bad book week, annnnnddddddd the Escape decided to spin a tale of low tire pressure. I dutifully, if not grumblingly, checked each tire in succession and each one looked good, but because I had to go out of town that night and then this weekend, I got a tire gauge and tried each tire.

Three up, three down, no issues. The fourth on the other hand showed very little pressure. I tried pleading with the tire gauge in the hope it might be pulling a Friday prank on me because of some hidden automotive tool holiday and took another gauge.

Same thing.

Sighing deeply, I went to fill up the tires with air, which didn’t take long for the good tires to top off. The fourth on the other hand was taking forever and so I knelt and waited. And waited. And waited.

And as I continued to wait, and wait, and wait there it was … staring me right in the eye.

A screw, which was something metaphoric at this point in the week. I glared at it, pouring all my loathing into that single, silver head as it sat tight against the tire.

Filling the tire, I then went to Hanson Tire. I’ve known the Starks for years now and the good people that they are, were able to take the car in and get it patched without me having to buy new tires … because after the previous stuff, I really didn’t want to buy new tires.

So once again, I was free to galavant about without the fear of repairs on the horizon, though not without a healthy paranoia.

All the way to the Renaissance Festival on Sunday, I was fully expecting something else to pop up or to sound off. That would be something I wouldn’t want to repeat.

A number of years ago, I had a belt of some kind that does something or another, actually break and fall out of the car leaving me with no air conditioning in early June coming out of St. Paul, and required holding up at the rest area north of Faribault with the hood in the air and Rocky and I sitting on the curb.

That, in turn, ended a truly long day of covering the state track meet, with a very long tow from the rest stop to South Main Auto.

Yeah, that’s something that doesn’t need to be repeated.

Still, the week wasn’t a complete loss. Ren Fest was as fun as always and it involved a random woman pointing at us in our outfits and stating emphatically, “Seexxxxy!”

I’m not sure who it was directed at necessarily, so I’m counting that as a team win that didn’t include an expensive auto repair.