Mighty, thank you for that. I work with victims of child-trafficking and have often stood before a court, but in all those occasions there was only one person at the bench (besides all of us beneath). What was upsetting me so much, besides all the peripheral bits I’ve whinged about, was my impression that there was a seamless continuity between the adjudicators and the prosecutor. Not to simplify it too much, but I felt as if the prosecutor was treating the magistrates as his personal hand-puppets. And I suppose if we were to follow that vein of visualisation, you can imagine where his hands were! That isn’t my image of what justice should be. I do understand that I’m off on a different tangent – it’s one of my shortcomings. While I was standing there, feeling the (oh no, here we go again eyebrow raises from the dog as he lay on the chair beside me), I kept thinking of some of the people who would follow behind me, who don’t have the gift of being able to speak for themselves, who are frightened to death, and are willing to acquiesce to whatever the prosecutor says only because of the fact that they’re not capable of doing so. And I didn’t like it! But as I said, that’s just one of my long list of foibles. Yes, that’s my diary. It’s where I can get what eats at me off of my chest…although it seldom does. And, I have found that this past year that between my shuttle commuting between here, the depths of Transylvania and the Republic of Moldova, I’m starting to believe that I’ve spent more nights in airports than in a bed! Hey, but that’s just the way it is. Even yesterday, as I sat in that baker’s oven of a waiting room, I kept visualising myself on an ocean liner doing nothing more exciting than sitting in a probably underutilised library reading a book, and stuffing my face with heapings of foie gras and plates of grotesquely fat prawns. Mighty, your mention of not being ‘religious’ is quite acceptable. I often say to people that you don’t have to be religious in order to be spiritual. People find their spirituality in many different places. It needn’t be locked within the confines of four walls. I learnt that many years ago during my postulancy. As long as you’re embracing life and reaching out to your fellow man-kind and animal-kind, I suspect you’re jolly well better off than many. Thank you for your words. This has been a great help! Fr B+ - - - My Spirit: You made me grizzle there for a moment. How kind of you. Indeed, my son is lovely. A more gentle, kind and caring chap is hard to find. My daughter is equally as lovely. And had it not been for her, I have no doubt that this experience would have been far more challenging. In a widower’s role, it’s important to be careful to ensure that a daughter doesn’t psychologically place herself in the spouses’ position. I do often get the demands ‘ come here Daddy, you’re not going out looking like that, let me fix your hair,’ or ‘How could you not see the button was missing when you put the shirt on, now stop and stand there while I sew this or I’ll stick you!’ Yes, we’re well managed here and kept duly in place. I’m not quite certain where we would have gone in court had the magistrate not stepped in. I could feel my heels hardening beneath me as I dug them into the courtroom floor. I absolutely failed to have the tax disc in the prescribed time. But by the very nature of the clause in the DVLA’s document on tax discs, it clearly says I have every right to move between my residence and the location where I am to obtain my mot’s, repair, and tax disc. It does NOT say that I’m precluded from making an intermediate stop enroute. Now, if I were to have stopped at say…a betting parlour, or the super market, or even possibly my auntie’s house, I don’t feel I would have a leg to stand upon; it would not be a valid or appropriate defence. But in this case, my intermediate stop was for the clear and express purpose of abiding with the law and obtaining said disc. Whilst I didn’t use this thought in court, but I had prepared a map to show that the road I travelled actually took me directly past the constabulary…when I was marking the map the night before I was mumbling to myself that I was starting to ‘lose it’ and nothing as petty as a tax disc would require me to have to use such a pathetic demonstration. I think …and I only think…the magistrate either possibly felt sorry for me…or maybe sorry for the dog…and saw that in addition to the principle of the case before the court, I was also concerned about having a clear ccrb and he asked me to leave the court so he could ‘chat some sense’ into the prosecutor. Or, perhaps the magistrate wanted to have a stern word with the prosecutor, pointing out the obvious – that the prosecutor was not the adjudicator and he should try to focus a bit more on his job description. (I prefer the latter). But I’ll never know. But you are absolutely right. I was indescribably relieved when I was told that I could pay ‘the revenue due’ AND the charges would be discharged. Had this been the case from the beginning I may have accepted it. But it was the whole issue of the insufferable man’s wanton hubris and the way he simply expected me to be guilty. In fact, that vein of thought existed from the moment I entered the court building. There’s something wrong with that…isn’t there? You’re very kind My-Spirit. Thank you for your words of encouragement! I didn’t sleep well last night because the day’s events were still eating at me. I feel the tired today, so I know that tonight I’ll be close to rigor mortis! Shalom! - - - Daniella… My goodness! Yes, I suspect ‘Re-queered’ can be applied to Brighton on many levels! It’s a fascinating place! I’m often on BBC Sussex radio with Sarah Gorrell. So I’m at the studio that’s just a block downhill from the railway station. The Venerable Mr Piddles loves sitting in the studio. It’s air conditioned and the seats are ultra soft. I had such a laugh on the last visit when I noticed the back of a woman, wearing a black cocktail dress, who was chatting to one of the clerks at the BBC gift shop. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the look on the face of the clerk was priceless. It wasn’t until the woman turned around that I understood why the clerk looked so unusual. The woman in black actually turned out to be a chap. He had painted his nails bright pink, with diamante sparkles on them, his shoulder length hair had been dyed the equivalent of what I’d call, mouldy farmhouse hay, and his bright red pumps made him tower above all of us. But it was his handbag that said it all. On the side of it were the words “If you want to be a butterfly, you’ve got to have balls!’ It just so much complemented his ensemble! Brighton, indeed a fun place. Here, our population here is a bit slower…snails pace slower. But they’re lovely people! My son taught me a valuable lesson. He forgave the lads long before I could. He was interviewed by John Young at BBC, who asked him how he must feel. John said, ‘They broke your face into a hundred pieces, you must have a great deal of rage over this.’ My son replied. ‘No, I’ve forgiven them. If I don’t, I wouldn’t be any better than they are.’ I can’t tell you how proud I was and am of him. Yes, my pathetic advert was a resounding disaster. For all I know, the ‘TV’ that was offered to me could have been the chappy at the BBC gift shop! We’ll never know…thankfully! Yep, if you ever see a rather frazzled “scatter brained” (as one of you put it earlier in this thread) man with an exasperatingly happy dog wandering down the street as if they were late for something. That’s probably us and we probably ARE late! See you on the sea-front! Thank you again, thank you for your contribution of words, which I enjoyed sharing with the court and thank you for making me smile! Fr B+ - - - And for all of you, I wish you peace in all your journeys. Fr B+ Meet The Children Children in Prison Visit The Children of Budesti A Trafficked Child's Journey Private Diary of a Priest

Good evening/morning everyone! I apologise unreservedly for my delay in responding. I would not be exaggerating if I were to say that this experience hit me far harder than I expected. In any event, to coin an old phrase, ‘factum est quod factum est!’ (what’s done is done.) I think had the beginning of the process not been so horrendous I might have perhaps had a bit more stamina this evening. But unfortunately, I honestly felt as if I had been treated as a convicted felon who had committed the most heinous of acts. I arrived at the court building at approximately 1:30, prepared to stand before the magistrate at 2, which my summons indicated. My feathers were immediately ruffled when the clerk told me that the court didn’t even begin until 2:30. When I pointed out that my summons said I had to be there for a 2pm show, the clerk more or less chuckled and said that they just tell people this because so many people arrive late. He handed me a form to complete. I asked what it was. He told me it was a financial statement I had to complete. When I asked why he said it was so they could determine my ability to pay. I told him I didn’t want to fill it out as I had no intention of being found guilty. The man looked shocked. “You mean you’re pleading Not Guilty?” he asked. It seemed that this surprised him. He took back the form and told me to sit in the waiting room. Honestly, a gaol cell would have been more comfortable – a steel bench, similar to what you find on a rail station platform! I noticed that the benches had been bolted to the concrete floor. I imagined people before me, dutifully expressing their views in a manner perhaps a bit more demonstrable than how I might show mine. The heat in the waiting room was so oppressive that I felt pains of guilt for the poor dog. If I’m going to be somewhere more than an hour I always bring his portable water bowl with me. I tried to buy water from the vending machine, only to discover it was empty. So we sat…and sat. Adding to my pressure were the other fine citizens who had dutifully responded to their summons. It’s always amazing how a person can embrace a certain word, using it repeatedly, as not only an adjective, but a verb, noun and pronoun as well! He was angry and the longer we all sat in the heat, the decibels of his voice increased exponentially. After about twenty minutes of his F this and F that diatribe, the dog began to express his concern with a couple of quiet whimpers. He’s not accustomed to these things and I seriously gave consideration to our doing a runner. Considering how hot it was and the fact that I was now imagining how I might use my navel as a carrot dip, I had visions of the prison escape scene from Shawshank Redemption. Finally a man called me into court. This was the next surprise. Since I’ve already raised the image of Shawshank, one would think I was on trial for a violent offence. The room was massive! And to compound the air of intimidation, I had before me THREE magistrates! In addition to the gaggle of justices, there was a man who I assume was acting as the prosecutor and one other chap, who I believe may have been the equivalent of a law clerk. But he appeared to be supporting whatever the prosecutor wanted. I’m going to continue using the title prosecutor because it seems to compliment the image I had. I was irritated because no one told me who they were, I was just to assume. Thankfully, I’m of sufficient intelligence that I pretty well sorted out who was what. The prosecutor read out the two charges and asked me how I pleaded. I said not guilty and stated that I would like to explain the circumstances. I think I felt my draw dropping when the prosecutor responded by saying “We would be willing to drop the charge of your vehicle being on the road on the 21st of January if you agree to the charge of March 4th, where you had the car on the road a second time. Do you agree to this?” Again, I said that I was pleading not guilty to the charges. This time I added “both of them,” hoping that this time he would understand what I was saying. The centre magistrate now spoke and asked me if I had an explanation. He seemed polite and the two female magistrates on either side appeared to be interested in listening to me. I explained about my father falling ill and his subsequent death a few weeks later and I explained that the lorry drivers from Moldova had collected a load in Merseyside, then headed down to the coast where I am, to collect the items we had to be shipped. I stressed that what I was saying was based upon conjecture as I did not know either of the lorry drivers who came, nor had I been able to speak with them. I told the magistrates that the garage I used opened onto a very small drive and that it made sense to me, if I visualised what they had to do, that they may have moved my car onto the road for a brief period whilst they loaded their lorry. I stressed that I was certain they would have had no knowledge of UK laws relating to tax licensing, as I was responsible for their obtaining their visas. The men had never come to the UK before and were merely fulfilling a volunteer task for my mission. The magistrate nodded several times. I was so far away from them it was absurd, but I gathered by his body language that he understood what I was saying and he conferred with his colleagues for a moment. But then the prosecutor added, “If you agree to the second charge, then the court will agree to dropping the first charge.” This really irritated me. I said to the prosecutor “ My understanding of our judicial system is that a decision such as this is predicated upon such an offer coming from the magistrate and not the prosecutor.” This visibly shocked the prosecutor. He backtracked saying “ Of course, I meant to say that I would have to discuss this with the Worships and express my agreement. But you are correct, the decision is entirely theirs.” I responded by more or less now ignoring the prosecutor and speaking to the magistrates directly. I told them that I had my MOT, the copy of the bill from Autoglass AND my tax disc, all obtained on the day ‘they’ claim they saw my car on the road. I stated that it was my understanding that I had every right to have the car on the road if it were for the express purpose of obtaining my tax disc and adhering to the requisites for me to obtain said disc. I added that at no point was I wilfully disobeying the law, nor had I taken any steps with malice of forethought towards the goal of having the car properly licensed. The magistrate asked me what had I done first – had I gone to the constabulary to have them look at the car, or had I gone to Autoglass first. My response was: “I’m in a difficult position here because I honestly don’t remember, but my guess is that I would have gone to the constabulary first because I was seeking their advice prior to spending the money to have the windscreen replaced. This is where we hit the weird zone. The prosecutor interrupted me by saying “ I wish you hadn’t said this because you have clearly broken the law. SO this is what I will offer you. (again I was becoming angry because he had placed himself in the position of judge). If you change your statement to say that you went to Autoglass first, then to the post office to get your tax disc, then I will only charge you with a revenue violation which would be £15.85.” I was angry. I said to the magistrates that I felt as if I were being intimidated by this man and I was particularly concerned that he had no respect for our judicial system, as this was the third time he had made the three of them redundant and placed himself at the bench. I added that I was gravely concerned that if I were to lie, not only would I not be able to live with this, but it would also appear on my CCRB and I did not wish to have this happen. I explained that what happened that day ultimately ended in the achieved objective and I felt that the matter of what happened at what time was, frankly, being a bit pedantic, considering that we were talking about the same goal throughout the day. The magistrate said he understood, but by law, chronological events do play a part in the decision. I told them that I felt in that instance that the matter really wasn’t about my good intentions, but more to penalise me, when all that had happened to me during those six weeks were, in the most real terms “force majeure” (an act of God). Then the prosecutor again piped in that if I were to ask to go to trial that I would lose and in addition to any fines, the court costs would be circa £300. I was livid now. I told the magistrates that I was angry and did not appreciate being intimidated in such a way and I was disappointed with “the courts” for their failure to censure the prosecutor, or at the very least, instruct him to work more closely to his job description and NOT THEIRS! I said that I had a copy of my CCRB with me and it was completely clear. But I was being asked to surrender my good character for no other reason than the fact that my father had died and I could not be here in the UK at the same time that I was holding his hand and administering his last rites. I told the magistrates that I had something I wished to share with them and I read the copy of what Daniella (from this group) had so kindly sent to me. (Again, thank you Daniella!). When I finished reading, the prosecutor immediately added in an elevated voice “That’s pertaining to something else!” My immediate retort was “No it ISN’T! It’s about honesty, sincere intentions, and a mutual respect between our laws and our nation’s citizens.” The prosecutor began to say something, but the magistrate interrupted. He asked me if I could step out of the court for a moment. I didn’t like this idea and asked the magistrate why did there need to be a secretive communication if this were pertaining to my case. He responded by saying, “please, just for a moment.” I went back out into the waiting room. Approximately 4 minutes later, the chap who I guessed to be the clerk came to get me. He didn’t once look at my face, he looked everywhere but. I came back in and stood behind my chair. I asked if I were to remain standing or should I sit. The magistrate said “we’ve discussed the matter collectively. The court is willing to discharge all charges if you agree to pay £15.85. This is not a fine or penalty. It is merely a revenue collection based upon your statement that you may have gone to the constabulary first, rather than obtaining the tax disc first. In any event, if you pay the £15.85, the matter is discharged. There will be no record whatsoever and you needn’t be concerned about your CCRB. Are you amenable to this?” I answered “Your Worships, with that proviso I am willing to pay the £15.85. Will I receive a written notice that the charges have been dismissed with prejudice? The magistrate responded “yes.” Then the prosecutor chirped in “ But of course, Father, you do have the right to go to trial.” The magistrate more or less snapped at him saying “That’s enough!” I was handed a leaflet with some numbers written on it. I went back to the front of the building to try to pay the fine. No one would accept it. The guard at reception asked me why was I there. I told him the story. He shook his head and told me that yesterday, there was an 80 year old woman who had allegedly struck a PCSO. But her family had come to defend her, pointing out that their mother was so short that she couldn’t even reach the PCSO’s face. The guard said the family had been emotionally beaten so badly that they ended up paying £20. He said the goal for the court staff is to show successful closure on as many cases as possible. Failure to do so places their jobs in jeopardy. Eureka! That explains it all! Friends, I apologise about my verbosity. But I thought about this before I began writing. My hope is that should someone else encounter a similar problem, perhaps this will help them understand what can happen and how the ‘judicial’ process does and doesn’t work. I’m embarrassed about this being so laboriously languid, but I should have known. A couple of years ago, my poor son was the victim of a ferocious attack by a group of yobs. He ended up on the front page of every paper in the country. They attacked him because he was too short for their liking. To compound matters, the pathetic thugs made a rap video and broadcast it to their friends. The song was about how they found an innocent lad and tried to beat him to death and when they found that he was still breathing, they went back and stamped on his face again and again. Thanks to the help of the BBC, The Guardian, and the Mail on Sunday, the songs were removed from the internet. My son suffered permanent brain damage and his dreams of joining the RAF and eventually becoming a commercial airline pilot went out the window. One of the lads who assaulted him was already wearing an ankle bracelet for an earlier GBH assault. He ended up being fined £150.00, which he never paid. In fact, only one of the three, who the CPS were able to convict, made an attempt to pay something towards their fine. They never paid the whole thing. Hardly mattered though as my son can’t do anything with the money. I must earnestly thank each and every one of you for your kind words of encouragement, concern, and advice. This has meant a great deal to me. These events came at a challenging time for me, directly interfering with my private time to mourn. Hopefully, I now have the freedom to do so. To all of you, I offer my most sincere gratitude and appreciation. I wish you Godspeed in all of your journeys. Fr B+ Big World Small Boat Have a little faith in DOG!

Good evening everyone! Please don't think I'm ignoring you. It has been a challenging day and a long evening. I've only just come in. I must must have something to eat, then I can attempt to share with you what has happened. It has been bizarre…or at least it was for me. And as the hours pass, I become increasingly consumed with anger. My speaking the truth cost me all of around £15. But I was offered (Oh how I wish I were kidding) the opportunity to change my statement in order to avoid the payment. The whole distasteful experience was intimidating, upsetting, and surreal in many ways. Someone here yesterday made a tongue-in-cheek comment that it was just about money. Too right! That’s all it was about! It certainly wasn’t about justice! And my anger is over the fact that I feel so passionately that what I experienced today was a literal smear upon the very foundation of our country’s history. Sorry, I’ll step down from the soap box for now. Perhaps a cup of tea and a sandwich will soothe the savage beast. But I doubt it. An utterly grotesque farcical embarrassment. Will write later. By then I hope my hand will stop shaking. Fr B+

Good morning DX100! It's a joyous day and I shall make the best of this. Thank you for your encouragement! I've kept close to heart what Desperate Daniella has said; Last night I dug out my CCRB certificate (Criminal Records Search), which all clergy are required to have, to take with me. I'm not quite certain whether I will ever feel so dramatic to want to drag the thing out, but I do take her point. I'm touched by all of your support and encouragement. It's quite humbling. Thank you SO much! Fr B+

Thanks Mighty! And a most grateful thanks to all of you! Your words have helped to buffer my exasperation. This morning I explained to one of the nursing homes I would normally be visiting tomorrow afternoon why I won't be able to see them. In many ways, this upsets me far more than what I'm facing as the residents have very few visitors. Of course I will try to catch up, but I'm guilty of trying to cram 30 hours into 24 almost every day. One thing will definitely surprise the magistrate as I'm bringing the dog with me. I'm hoping I won't be too far down the docket so I can hopefully at least get to visit them for a brief time. (they're more interested in seeing the dog than me!) Thank you for your good wishes! Fr B+

Daniella Good evening! Thank you very much indeed for this fascinating information! Clearly from the dialogue proffered by Viscount Simons, there appears to be a number of people who through no malice of forethought, find themselves in these unfortunate circumstances. A couple of years ago I received a speeding ticket in the post as a consequence of one of those electronic cameras. I was indeed speeding. I did it with full knowledge of what I was doing. I was along the sea-front in January returning from what was perhaps one of the most miserable funerals I had ever celebrated in my life. The weather was dreadful with the rain pelting down so hard that it actually hurt when it hit my arms. The sorrow on the family’s faces were compounded by the abominable weather. As I headed home along the seafront, the waves were crashing against the sea wall with such ferocity that it was causing small pebbles to mix with the sea water as it splashed against the wall. At the time, I simply wasn’t aware of exactly how much the weather had deteriorated in the past hour. When the first wave of pebbles pelted the windscreen I deliberately sped up, hoping to clear the quarter mile before the road turned slightly inland. Never gave it further thought until the ticket arrived in the post. I responded by challenging the ticket. But crikey! They drew it out by repeatedly sending me the same notice over and over. I phoned several times, explaining that I was awaiting my day in court, that I had the meteorological details of the day and I was prepared to vigorously defend my rights. I did add, which isn’t typical of my personality to be almost confrontational that my understanding of the speed cameras were to ensure safety and penalise those who deliberately ignored common safety. I suggested that if they pursued the matter, then felt the matter would become prima facie evidence that the speed cameras were nothing more than revenue generators for the council and that they had no interest in honesty. Approximately 4 days following my written diatribe I received notice that the ticket had been cancelled. Scenarios such as these are so unfortunate as I feel strongly that many people simply acquiesce to their intimidation, feeling, as I have somewhat felt this past week, that the expense of time, energy, travel, etc., far outweighs whatever their fine may be and the poor soul ends up paying whatever they demand. I’m very grateful for what you’ve sent me. I’m not certain how I feel about using it outright. But I feel it’s so interesting that following whatever adjudication occurs, I would like to give it to the magistrate for her or his consideration. In many ways, it’s a lovely brief eulogy on society and how we, the public, would like to think of our MP’s – as Ladies and Gentlemen who speak on our behalf, representing the pulse of those who pay their taxes, obey our laws and endure the crumbling society around us. You are very kind to have shared this with me (us). Thank you for your kindness and thoughts. As I mentioned yesterday, I’m a bit anxious at present and will be relieved when the whole distasteful thing is over! Be well Fr B+

Good morning My-Spirit That’s very kind of you. Thank you very much indeed. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I have a bit of trepidation over this whole thing. I’ve never had to do anything such as this before. I don’t mean the issue of standing before a court – I do that often as I work with victims of child-trafficking. It’s the issue of defending myself, especially for something for which I’m unable to actually quantify – such as how did my car end up on the road. I can guess, but that’s all I can do. And this is what I intend to tell the magistrate. All the dialogue here has helped to buffer the anxiety I’ve had over this scenario. For this I cannot thank you enough. Be well Fr B+

Yes, of course. I think I failed to fully appreciate what I'm facing. I thought it was as straight forward as a parking ticket and therefore something that really wouldn't warrant my phoning the Archdeacon over. But after your kind suggestion earlier today I have decided to do so. I suspect however, he will most likely suggest that I do precisely what we've chated about here - just present 'pro se' and offer a chronological accounting of the events, along with any written materials I have. I'm scheduled to appear Wednesday afternoon and I'll certainly share details of the outcome. I must say, it feels somewhat as if I were being flogged due to the failure of the written word to inspire or direct someone at DVLA to apply a modicum of common sense. But then the old adage "we're from the government and we're here to help you" seems to take hold. Unfortunately, it will require me to present the facts in the very manner that I attemted to present them when I created this thread. The response I received was appropriate. Unfortunately, it's necessary to provide such a laboriously languid dialogue in order to create the timeline for the magistrate. Consequently, I risk causing them to either fall asleep or become exasperated with what I'm trying to present. But I do cling to the very thought you had - certainly this magistrate has had their own human events which can affect our days. So I hope there may be, at least, some compassion for this scatty brained, ageing, old clergyman. Again, thank you! It is much easier to get forgiveness than it is to get permission! Fr. B+

After seeing the Watchdog article, I can easily imagine this. Do you know whether the magistrate I see will be a county magistrate or is this a magistrate who is actually retained by the DVLA to do solely their work? If this is the case I should think that would certainly be unfair to all concerned. Whatever happens, I shall just tell the truth. I have the Autoglass receipt, my father's death certificate, and my boarding pass for my trip home. It was an electronic ticket so I don't have an actual flight ticket. Those are becoming quite rare. It all seems to be such a waste of time....or at least it certainly is for me! Thank you for all your help! Fr B+

My-Spirit: Thank you for your kind advice. Indeed, before I found your forum my thoughts were to simply tell the truth and leave it at that. I was just disappointed that the people at DVLA could have cared less as to what I said to them. Perhaps in their minds, it was just easier to get rid of the matter and pass it along to someone else. I really didn't want to wear my dog collar, only because I was afraid of precisely what you've alluded to. Many of us ARE scatter-brained and one would hate to be punished for that as well! Thank you again for your kind advice! There's always hope as long as life and breath remain! Fr B+

Apologies for the verbosity! Actually, No. I have a court summons. I know nothing about a ticket at all! There was a red 'notice' but never anything in the form of what I would believe to be a fine-type ticket. The summons merely state the car was seen on the road on two separate occasions, contravening the road tax law. That's it in a nut shell. Again, apologies Fr B

Good morning. I would be most grateful for some advice. My father was discovered on the floor of his home, unconscious, on Boxing Day last year. I left immediately for Vancouver, not really knowing how long I would be there and sadly, assuming the worst. It became one of those nightmares that kept rolling over and over as I was having a challenge finding a nursing home for him, particularly because I was having to gather financial documents from both sides of the Atlantic. No one would accept him before they (more or less) had cash in hand. It was awful. My car was garaged and the disc was the very last thing in my mind at the time. I had a crack in the windscreen and suspected I probably would have to have the windscreen replaced. While I was away, I had a lorry being driven by volunteers, who were scheduled to collect several months worth of items I had collected that were destined to go to my mission in Eastern Europe. According to my elderly auntie, they came to her door asking for the key to the car so they could remove the mountain of things from the garage. As I understand it, the lorry was so large that they moved the car out of the garage drive onto the street whilst loading, then placed the car back in the garage. During that time (and I have never seen any notice of this), the car was 'noticed' on the road. The complaint gives the address of the road where my drive empties. It's on a corner, so the address they provided creates a plausible image for me to imagine the car directly at the foot of the drive, but I can't swear to this. I did return home approximately 5 days later, but left immediately for Western Romania. Whilst away, I did recollect that I needed to get my tax disc and planned to do so immediately when I returned. Sadly, my father passed away as I was heading home. I had such a mountain of things to do at home, including the tax disc that I deliberately tried to minimise as much as possible. I phoned Auto Glass, but they told me they could not come out for approximately ten days. They told me they couldn't confirm whether or not the chip in the windscreen could be repaired until they saw it. So in the interest of expediency, I took the car directly to the police station to ask them to look at the car for me, believing they might be able to tell me. As bizarre as this may sound it's the truth: whilst inside the constabulary, someone placed a red 'notice' on my windscreen stating that my untaxed car had been noticed. The address they've indicated is, in fact, that of the constabulary, so I'm guessing that the magistrate will hopefully accept this. The WPC at the constabulary told me there was no way she could give me any precise information, but she did suggest that I phone Auto Glass and see if i could go directly to their offices, rather than waiting for them to come to me. Indeed, they could. They made an appointment for me, two days later. I had hoped to leave for Vancouver before then, but reluctantly agreed as I was relieved that I would at least be able to return home and not have to face the nightmare of the car, particularly as I knew I would be needing to leave again for Eastern Europe. I never made a sorn application. I honestly never thought of it. I simply had too much going on at the time. I'm guessing that the magistrate is going to be unyielding and on a clergyman's salary, my knees are knocking over what I might face. The other thing that has gone around in my head is that following the replacement of the windscreen, when I went to the post office on the same day to get the tax disc, I was given a disc valid from that month. Now, I'm not certain whether I'm entitled to it in absence of the sorn. I've twice tried to phone the DVLA. The first time, after being transferred twice, I was disconnected. The second time, the lady told me that it was easier to write them. I did so and the response was the court notice. SO I'm feeling rather aggrieved over the whole matter. I would be grateful for any advice. Thank you! Fr B+