Work in progress............

There have been no posts for ages.

Much has been happening, but much of it mundane.

I did feel moved to rant about a certain national chain of car tyre suppliers, but went off the idea. There is quite enough ranting going on in the world, and my adding to it will only serve to further dampen the spirits of those who choose to read this nonsense.

(But I must beware, lest this turn into a rant against ranting.........)

A precis will suffice: The first place we tried in order to get a puncture fixed were rubbish: uncouth, loutish, and didn't fix the problem despite charging £20.00.

The next purveyor of car tyres for Suzuki Vitaras was recommended by our mechanic, Amato.

They were brilliant.

Kingsway Tyres 1 - The Other Lot 0

So you CAN get better than a Kwik Fit Fitter...........

Other news, and a possible source of the sort of rant that can end up in court: Pippin has been gearbox-less and thus immobilised.

This is rather more serious, and to avoid potential problems with the bunch of twisters to whom we entrusted the gearbox repairs, I am going to say little.

However, an important lesson learned: get EVERYTHING in writing BEFORE accepting a quote.

We were informed of overall costs by phone. The repairs were pricey, but still made sense as a new 'box would still be more. So we went ahead. Repairs complete, our man emails Jackie with a final price some £850.00 + VAT over and above his quote, the surcharge to cover fetching the box, it's removal, replacement and transport charges.

I do wonder what part of our repeated requests for "overall costs" he didn't understand.........

A series of increasingly formal (to the point of terse) emails followed.

The up-shot is Gearbox Man gets to keep our repaired 'box and we owe him nothing.

This is a much happier outcome than the one I had in mind, which would have involved an eye-watering insertion of the gearbox into an orifice that it's designers simply hadn't considered possible.........

But never fear, Pippin is not about to substitute her 'wb' status for that of 'pontoon'.....

We have been in touch with a very nice firm in Norwich who are agents for Newage PRM and will be delivering and installing a brand spanking NEW box very shortly. (For about £1100 less than the all-up cost of our repaired unit.....oh and it comes with a 12 month warranty.....)

So that's alright then.

Perhaps becuase of all this nonsense, plus the usual difficulties of work being a total pain in the arse &c &c, I have found myself Walking The Black Dog to The Long Dark Tea-Room of the Soul more than is healthy of late.

I found solace in a totally unexpected quarter: a book I found at Milton Tip.

(I was even going to pay for it, but the man in charge was having a big and expletive-driven row with the driver of a van who 'wasn't allowed in 'ere, mate'....)

So I (wisely, I felt), drifted back to the car, whistling nonchalently......

In short, I piked it.

And the volume in question? It is a 1927 edition of a work first published by Pitman as part of "The Artistic Crafts Series of Technical Handbooks" in 1906: 'Writing & Illuminating & Lettering' by Edward Johnston.

I will bore you all to distraction with why this interests me in another post, but to the point: between the editor's preface and the author's preface, I found the following quotation:

"We must set up the strong present tense against all the rumours of wrath, past or to come.

So many things are unsettled which it is of the first importance to settle,-and, pending their settlement, we will do as we do. . . .

Expediency of literature, reason of literature, lawfulness of writing down a thought, is questioned; much is to say on both sides, and, while the fight waxes hot, thou, dearest scholar, stick to thy foolish task, add a line every hour, and between whiles add a line.

Right to hold land, right of property is disputed, and the conventions convene, and before the vote is taken, dig away in your garden, and spend your earnings as a waif or godsend to all serene and beautiful purposes.

Life itself is a bubble and a scepticism, and a sleep within a sleep.

Grant it, and as much more as they will,-- but thou, God's darling! heed thy private dream: thou wilt not be missed in the scorning and scepticism: there are enough of them: stay there in thy closet, and toil, until the rest are agreed what to do about it.

Thy sickness, they say, and thy puny habit, require that though do this or avoid that, but know that thy life is a flitting state, a tent for a night, and do thou, sick or well, finish that stint.

Though art sick, but shalt not be worse, and the universe, which holds thee dear, shall be the better."
-Emerson

Music To Chop Wood By.......

The recent dearth of posts on this blog may have had some of you wondering:

Is he dead?

Health not improved?

Left the country due to tax issues?

Actually, none of the above.......

I have, instead, been chopping wood.

A lot of wood.

Yes, the 15-20 tons purchased through the good auspices of The Cambridge News has well and truly come home to roost.

Literally.

I have spent the last five days moving said amount from Harston ( a good league hence, my liege, though thankfully nowhere near that tiresome trout St Agnes's fountain....)

I am absolutely completely and utterly banjaxed.

And I still have at least six Vitara-fulls of logs to go.

And that's before firing up the sodding chainsaw......

But that's tomorrows job.

Tonight, The Best Couple On The River favoured me with their presence.

"They came.

They bought beer (lots).

They cooked delicious pasta.

They washed up."

Yes, twas The Lucky Ducks, fresh from their summer sojourn on the canals.

What joy!

Amy has threatened to leave a blog post about the ridiculousness of Pippin's new 'Not-so-Stealth' woodpile.

If she has, read it and weep.

I'm the poor so-and-so who had to move each sodding-great tree-trunk by hand into the back of my poor protesting Suzuki Vitara and then off-load it all at the other end.

The Suzuki may need new shock absorbers for its next MOT.

I'm buggered if I know what I'll need for mine........

Anyway, to the music......

Endeavours such as this, must, perforce, have a sound track.

Now, if you are my age or perhaps a tad older, then the radio station of choice has to be Radio 2.

This is fine for the early morning chopping and sawing:

Chris Evans.

A fine DJ and all-round good bloke.

(And I'm not just saying this because when he and his entourage rocked up at The French House in Soho one evening he tipped me a fiver for serving him a bottle of champagne....I was so surprised I went out to him from behind the bar and uttered the immortal words "Chris, you've forgotten your change"......No-one EVER tipped at The French!!!!!!!)

Then it's Ken Bruce's turn.

I've never had the honour of serving him a drink, but that, apparently, only contributes to my exclusivity........

Whatever:

He plays a fine selection of music and does his best to foreshorten the interminably tiresome "just like to say a few hellos" that follow each contestant in his universally popular 'Popmaster Quiz'.

Which brings me to the execrable Jeremy Vine.

When this poltroon comes on, my radio goes off.

I cannot stand the man.

An irritating, right-wing simpering git with a very over-played line in entirely faux 'sympathy' when required or righteous indignation when that cap seems to fit.

Like Jeremy Clarkson, he should have been strangled at birth.

Anyway, another source of entertainment is required from 12:00 onwards.

The old Vitara is still able to play those old-fashioned CD thingies.

Yes, it doesn't have an i-pod dock (whatever one of those is), but can play tunes, which, even better, the driver gets to choose!!

First choice: Alabama Three, 'La Peste': as low-down no-good gritty as it gets: think broken Jack Daniels bottle ground into fresh tarmac with a Gauloise cigarette butt.

Depressing after a while... ( The accursed Vine's show is a whole two hours.....)

So how about something a little lighter?

You were expecting me to say 'The Mike Flowers Pops', weren't you?

Oh no no no.

Nothing so bleedin' obvious.

For music to do any task by ( much less fetch and carry, chop and otherwise muck about with unfeasably large quantities of timber), I have only the following recommendation:

Pink Martini: 'Splendour In The Grass'.

Buy it, download it, borrow it, steal it.......

Do whatever you have to do, but listen to it.

It's for your own good!!!!!!

TIM-BAAAAH!!!!!!

I should have known better.

Really I should.......

But there you go...

Well, here's how it all happened.

As regular readers of this blog will know, we have an ample supply of cut and split logs for our woodburner. Current estimates put this supply at approximately three tons. It is all carefully hidden in what I refer to as The Stealth Woodpile (because it cannot be seen from the public footpath and therefore doesn't constitute an eyesore).

The other boats on the mooring have wood storage boxes made out of old pallets. Each probably holds about 1/2 to 3/4s of a ton.

Today we solved our (and very likely everyone else's) fuel needs for this winter and probably next winter too.

Here's how:

I am back at the Hole Making Shop after my time off sick. I was leafing through The Cambridge News small ads at lunch time when I saw this:

"Timber approx. 15-20 tons of sycamore cord wood, split and burns like ash. Includes 30" chainsaw, still boxed. Offers."

I texted the ad with the relevant phone numbers to Jackie.

I was expecting a textual version of 'That Look' in reply.

After all, we had just spent Saturday morning and £60-odd quid on two knackered rod-braked Raleigh bikes whilst visiting Mum and Dad in Bournemouth.... (Look,....off sick....bored.....ebay.....you know how it goes.....)

But No.......

Oh dear me no.....

Oh no no no no no....

I checked my phone at second break (circa 4.00pm).

Reply from Jackie:

"Done! Pick-up this w/e....we need Rhoda's van."

So now we own 20 tons of sycamore wood and a large chainsaw.

That's another fine mess I got me into.........

A lovely surprise.

Yesterday evening, Pam, (associate priest at St. John's Waterbeach) and her husband Trevor popped round to visit the sick, ie me!

I've never been on the receiving end of such a visit before! Hee hee!

It's always lovely to see P & T.

Sadly we had no prosecco cold, but made do with a drop of chilled fino.

Sherry with the vicar, eh? (okay Pam, I know, I know, 'associate priest'....) All delightfully Anglican.

I, of course, eschewed the tipple in favour of fizzy water. Under doctor's orders don'tcha know..... Yes, I'm on the dry until the end of August when I have to get another blood test.

Proper double-drag bummer.

(You may have noticed from the tone of this that I'm feeling tons better: just resting up today and over the weekend ready for work on Monday.)

Once again, thanks to all who have emailled their good wishes.

I am happy to report I'm approaching the wellness continuum!

Lots of nice things.....

Today, fresh eggs from the mooring's hens, lightly scrambled, having slept for another fourteen hours (that's the fourth night in a row)......

The night before last, fresh veg with supper. ( A present from H. who looks after the sheep and has a couple of rows on our landlord's allotment.) I cooked venison burgers which I got at a substantial reduction on yellow stickers from Tesco. Lovely!

I bought a stainless steel bicycle wheel with rare 4-speed Sturmey Archer hub for a reasonable price on ebay. It's in excellent condition, so the restoration of Eric (my classic rod-braked Raleigh saved from the dump at Milton) is a step closer to completion.

I was up with the sparrows on Saturday, having had the requisite sick person's 14 hour kip, and saw the Lucky Ducks as they traversed the lock at the beginning of their summer cruise. They hadn't had any sleep at all, having partied all night at the City Bumps Party, and looked in remarkably good nick, all things considered.

I remember having that sort of energy........

It was lovely to see them! They are now proceeding along the Middle Level at goodly lick (see their blog for latest updates).

Makes me feel tired just thinking about it.

I've been up for over two hours!

Better have a lie-down.

Got to keep my strength up.........

Signed off work.

I saw the doctor this morning having got an appointment. I'm signed off work for a week but will probably return earlier if I've improved enough so I can avoid dying of boredom.

It's a viral illness so will go away in its' own good time.

Right now I have the wood burner lit, am warming up some chicken soup on it and it is a cosy 84F with a light breeze from the Ecofan. Toast following......

Thanks to all for their kind thoughts and to Jaq and Amy for their blog comments. (I think the Pigeon Post has left several messages all over the hood of our car..... Probably not what you meant by compostable healing magic, Jaq, :) but all positive waves are welcome, so thanks again!!)

In short, I'll be fine, if a bit bored.

The one thing I'm not going to do is compound it by boring you all with the details!

More blog posts are be in the offing, and will hopefully serve to keep me and you amused.....

Monthly update.

I am not very well.

It's dull, it's boring, and I would like to be well again soon, please.

I dropped in to my local Doctors surgery on the way home from the Hole-Making Shop where I work. (One cannot make small accurate holes in highly reactive material when pouring with sweat, so they sent me home.) Unfortunately, they can't give me an appointment for at least two weeks, although have gracefully deigned to allow me to ring them at 08.30 tomorrow morning to see if anyone has cancelled.........

I didn't feel at all good last week when I was on annual leave, but didn't bother with the doctors because I knew this would happen. I thought I'd just rest-up and get over it. I thought I had, but clearly have not.

Those of you who know me will realise that for John to take time off is serious.

I don't DO sitting around feeling poorly!

Sorry about this: I feel like nothing on earth and I'm off for a lie-down.