Tuesday, July 24, 2007

2007 Back from the wars Part 1

I know... Very lazy, but I'm knackered... Here's a mail I sent my sister about the return trip from this year's War and Peace show...

Helloooooooooo

Good to hear from you. Glad you're enjoying so far and I hope dinner with G went well.

I've not long been on the phone to mum and she said I had to relate the tales of fun on the holiday...

Well... where to start...

Going to Kent was fun... All the rad seals on the car blew and it overheated. We got low-loadered from somewhere near the M25 to Beltring. We had minimal kit because everything else was in the trailer or the Commer (my truck, now christened Isobel) both still either in XXXXX or at C's.

Himself went and got the trailer, Grumpy and J went and loaded all the rest into Grumpy's motor and got it all down. I bought the boys beer for helping out.

Then... Himself wanted to finish the wiring on the lorry, so he and Chief went over to C's. As they were about 2 miles from their house, the torsion bar bolt on the car snapped. The car got low-loadered back with Chief and Himself stayed to finish the lorry. Lorry turned up somewhere round 1am. Himself fixed the car the next day and my mate went hunting for spark plugs for Izzy as she was only running on 4 of her 6 cyllinders. Himself was busy one day, so I changed the plugs and did the points. How cool am I? I was there, bum hanging out the engine bay of a big lorry and J and R reckoned there was a multiple car pile up on that corner because of it... har har... plus I got my bum slapped by any of our lads that wandered past... And photographed...

Once I got all that done... I drove my lorry!!! I took it round the field a couple of times. She was rough as old boots because of holes in the exhaust system, so L and I filled the holes with exhaust putty and she was much better after that...

Anyway, good weeks had by all. I'll relate all those tales another time. I have to get to the really funny bit. Mum was in stitches.

We got everything packed and were folding the last of the canvas as the rain started yesterday. Everything loaded, we jumped in, Himself pressed the starter. Nothing. Dead as doornails (did I forget to mention that she won't charge batteries, although it's an improvement on her boiling the bloody things...) so we changed the battery... Nothing. Another change... Nothing... Another change (running out of batteries here...) nothing for a minute then she coughed into life. M had just attached the tow rope to the front to tow-start her too. He and I had a conversation about how we should have put the spare wheel into her wheel carrier too, but the spares were in the back keeping the tables off the floor with canvas over the top because the canvas backing is doing a pretty good impression of a sieve... The wipers are a hand cranked thing and only on one side. Oh and she leaks round the windscreen so it rains on the inside too...

Anyway, off we set, not knowing what roads were open anywhere, dodging the drips from the inside of the screen. We took the scenic route through East Grinstead. Going through there, Izzy backfired (running rich. The carb is shot. Need a new one of them) and blew all the exhaust putty out. Loud isn't the word, but anyway, nothing major, so we carried on up to a set of traffic lights. A BMW cut inbetween us and T who was in front in D's Commer. Bad move. The lights changed, Himself put his foot on the brake... Nothing happened. He pressed harder and they worked. The Beemer driver must have discovered that adrenaline is brown as all he could probably see in his rearview was numberplate.

We mooched on, following M in the mine truck and T in the other Commer. Managed to pick up quite a few cars and a couple of lorries in between us on the way, so the other two couldn't really see if we were behind. We were half way up a hill, when BANG!!! The rear inside tyre blew out. Himself fought with her, pulled her into the side, sat for a few seconds to stop shaking, then turned the engine off... He got out to investigate the damage. The tyre blew from tread to rim, about 18 inches to 2 feet round the rim, then back out to the tread again. Nice. We sat for a moment and thought about it. We had the spares (under the tables and benches though) we had a jack (somewhere in the back) a couple of axle stands (also in the back) a plate to jack on to stop it sinking in the ground... But the tyre iron was in the mine truck, receeding into the distance. He took a wander up the road a wee bit and back (in the pouring rain) sat for a bit, did some crosswords, realised that they hadn't noticed when they lost us and started making phone calls. An hour and a half after the tyre blew, cold, wet, dodging the drips on the inside of the cab later he decided to take a wander further up to see what was there. A garage. Spot on. We decided to limp to the garage. He got in. Hit the starter...

Nothing. Battery was dead as doornails. If we'd kept going after the blow-out, we'd have made it. Ah well...

We got out, I got waterproofs on (he was already in his, but still soaked through by this point) and wandered to the garage to A) get something hot to drink B) get something to eat, C) go to the loo and most importanly D) find out exactly where the hell we were. Got coffee, got sarnies, did a loo run, phoned C and told him where we were and M and T headed out to us in the car with relevant bits. We left Beltring at half three, blew out at half four and they arrived around 7. Tyre was duly changed (some wee blokey that lived nearby came out and offered help, loaned tools and said he'd been to beltring and had left his Landrover with the marshalls in America's field, lovely people, Us by the way... He laughed) and that was all done by quarter past eight. New battery and off she went. I was in the car, T went with Himself in the Commer, because if there's something he doesn't know about them, it's really nothing of any use.

She was backfiring well on the downhills (running rich again) and we diagnosed an earth fault in the wiring... Every time she backfired, all the lights went out! They came back on again though, so it was ok...

Anyway, ten miles from C's, the battery died again. This was about half ten at night. We went and fetched one of the batteries off the mine truck and came back, got her going again... Two miles from C's... She ran out of fuel... We had jerry cans in the back... Empty... Had to try and find a garage at gone eleven at night. Fun.

We shoved 20 quid's worth in there and limped into C's, parked up, cold, wet, cheesed off, but still laughing, because there was nothing else to do... He went to fetch the car which was parked up the drive a bit...

The bloody thing wouldn't start! Took four attempts to get it going, but it went. We threw all the bags we could think of and could find in the dark, wet, under canvas and tarps into the car, had a cuppa and came home. Got in around quarter past one after remembering about half an hour from C's that I'd left the toilet bag in the truck... Had a shower (fortunately I took all new to Beltring and had some half-bottles of shampoo and things here, although I had to go buy a new toothbrush today) Had a shower and fell into bed around quarter past two in the morning.

Needless to say I overslept and didn't get to work today...

Ah well, I got the washing done (three of the million loads at least) and I'm about to go fall into bed again and hope that I don't sleep through the alarm again tomorrow. Think I'll set my phone alarms as well, just in case. They're annoying enough to wake the dead...

I tell you... You just couldn't make this stuff up. Seriously. Mum was killing herself laughing at every new misfortune I said I'd copy dad into the mail so he could read all about it, because you know mum... She'll forget half of it (Hi mum!)

Anyway, my bed wants me. I'm still totally knackered! I need a holiday to get over the holiday!

Anyway, will speak soon and tell you the rest. Hope you're enjoying the new ship and being the Boss!

Love

Me

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Why?

Why did I decide to give up smoking? Why did I decide to go on a diet? Why did I even bother thinking of having kids? Why didn't I just tell the gynae people to get on and take it all out since I have no use for it? Why do I get lectured about buying biscuits as he's given up sugar while he can smoke in the house and order pizza and ask if I want anything while he's ordering? Why am I always the one in the wrong?

I'm wrong for having hobbies. I'm wrong for using a room he wasn't using and filled up with crap that never got used. I'm wrong for asking him to look for something my sister needs. I'm wrong for getting annoyed that I did most of the looking. I'm wrong. Permanently.

I made the decision. I am NOT having children with that man. He's had four months to answer a simple question. Does he want kids. Obviously not then.

He comes in the house after work. He comes upstairs. He turns his computer on. He goes to the loo. He then sits in front of his computer until it's time to fetch his dinner from the delivery boy, then sits in front of his computer till it's time to go to bed. He gets up in the morning. He turns his computer on. He goes to the loo. He then sits in front of his computer until it is time to go to work.

He then wonders why I get annoyed after being told I was spending too much time on my computer. So I stopped. So I sat downstairs on my own. So I took up sewing and knitting. So I took up jive dancing. So all of that is wrong too.

I don't have anyone to share my evenings with, even when he's not working, so why shouldn't I take up hobbies? Oh no. I'm not allowed to do anything other than sit here staring at the wall (because I'm not allowed to use my computer or look at his) because I might be enjoying myself.

*gasp*

That will never do. Remind me tomorrow to go pawn my life, as I have no use for it and may as well get the cash and go spend it on a pack of cigarettes and a pizza.