My aunt in the Townships was married to a very interesting man (my Uncle Tom) who insisted on repairing expensive machinery himself, despite the mediocre-at-best results. He firmly believed that, if the device would run at all, it was okay.

Including the family car, after a roll-over on black ice that stove in the roof and bent the frame, among other bad things. Tom managed to get the vehicle back on the road, but declined to spend any money on it. The non-functioning windscreen wipers were a major problem as Montreal has winter, and rain all year round, but that did not move Tom to consult a garage. Finally, Aunt Pat took to driving slowly past police stations and patrol cars in the hope that a cop would look twice, react appropriately, and order the poor old crate off the road.

I don't know if her plan worked, but eventually (i.e., not nearly soon enough) the rolled car was retired to a scrapyard and a replacement was found. It was just as small and nearly as rickety as its predecessor, but at least its windscreen wipers worked.