Month: July 2012

After the hols last week I thought the works or the agency had got rid of me but it turned out they had just lost my number (along with their mobile.) Sunday evening they ‘phoned me on the landline and ruined my chi. I was quite looking forward to having Monday off. C’est la vie. Bright side being, A: it gave me some wages, B: it got me back into driving. You wouldn’t think I’d need a refresher after doing it daily for six months, but at the first island driving away from my works I found I was approaching at car speeds. Not good in a truck. Then on Wednesday I backed into a barrier. Total bummer. It was a bay tight against a wall with a barrier running alongside it. I’ve backed into it when there was a truck parked in the next bay, making it REALLY tight, no problem. This time I had about three empty bays to drive across then swing it in. The barrier goes in for a spell, then stupidly, comes out again. I caught it on the come out bit. Totally gutted. My confidence has taken a battering. I have to refocus, regroup and go back to basics. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If you can’t see where your arse end is, get out and look. Don’t think you can judge off the visible side. Stupid. I’ll see how it goes. Give it another week at least to get over my nerves then maybe apply for another job. I am really torn about that now. I want to go to a better job because, well, it’s better, but I don’t want to make any mistakes while I’m new. But that is two accidents here (turning that mirror around was hardly a major incident, but it counts as an accident). I don’t like it. I’d prefer to run away. Yes, I am freaking out.  Not a happy bunny at all. Wishing I had a job that used my brain. Trucking is a great job when all is well but the slightest error and things go ‘SMASH’ and there is no undoing it. Why didn’t I study to be a heart surgeon? A job where you don’t get any complaints if you do it wrong.   In other news, the fitness side of things is really looking up. It was only five weeks ago (four weeks of cycling) that I started riding in to work. Admittedly it was with a bloody great painful rucksack, but my time was 45 minutes. I broke the 35 minute barrier twice last week! Chuffed. I only managed four days riding last week. I found I had a flat as I was about to set off for work on Friday. I did a (relatively) quick inner tube change only to find the brand name (Raleigh) dearer tube I’d bought from a sports supermarket had a poxy small valve stem. It didn’t even poke through the wheel rim far enough for me to […]

Turns out work haven’t got rid of me, the agency lost their mobile ‘phone and with it my mobile number. They rang me on the landline tonight, I’m back in as usual all week. Bugger. I was looking forward to a few days indolence. It’s good in several ways though; it pays the bills while I apply for another job and it keeps my hand in so I’m confident for any assessment. Also it looks better applying for a job whilst in work, especially applying for a trunking driving job whilst you are doing a trunking driving job.   While I’m here I forgot to mention we saw a lizard/ newt/ whatever scurrying about in the road in Cornwall. About 3” long and black. It was quite exciting. I really need to get out more.   Also, last night I had just finished my blog. I was calling Wendy up to look at it before I posted to make sure she was OK about that one picture with her on it. Before she could look she asked me to sort the fuse box out as the downstairs lights had tripped. I did it in the dark. And turned off the circuit with the PC on. Lost the (completed) lot. I had to do it all again today. Tres miffed.   Anyway, Wendy’s trying to get to sleep and we are both in work tomorrow. Bum. Later, Buck.

Well, what a time we had and no mistake. As I said last time, we booked a cheap week away in a caravan in Cornwall months ago, in anticipation of the glorious British Summer. Then it pissed it down continuously for three months. Hopes were not high. By some strange miracle we actually had nice weather! Huzzah! Cornwall doesn’t have a lot going for it in the rain. We had one day with a bit of drizzle, some wind, but the rest was sunny and lovely. We also had reservations about the site I’d booked. When we got the brochure that featured a bench as a selling point we were a tad concerned. We were looking forward at least to taking out pictures on the bench. There was no bench! What is the number for the Trades Description Act people? Devastated. However, the site itself was small, well spaced caravans, under-occupied and the caravan was clean and fine. As opposed to one site we had to drive through where they were crammed together, looked old and dirty and had loads of riff-raff. And the view from the big window at the end of the caravan: Wowsers! We were a seven minutes run down a steep wooded path from the beach. A fact I took daily advantage of with my runs. It was fantastic running down from the caravan, across a beach or two (depending on if the tide was out) then up the coast path over the hills. The best part of the running for me was the two days when I met extreme hikers. They were all togged out in stout hiking boots, serious trousers, all weather coats, rucksacks, etc. I was going the other way in trainers, shorts and a sleeveless top. At a run. Well, it made me smile anyway. The beach just below the caravan was good for swimming too. Not many tourists (damn their eyes!) a gradual deepening of the water and a lifeguard. Ideal. I only did one swim, but it was nice to have it there. I was putting it off as it’s my weakest discipline in triathlon. Well, in the top three of my weakest disciplines. I took a holiday from my diet as well. I’ve put on 4 pounds but it was worth it! We found an excellent Cantonese/ Chinese restaurant (that by luck was also cheap) and an Italian restaurant that was sublime. The downside to our culinary adventure was the Rat Poison episode. Wendy doesn’t believe it, but I think so. We went to a local pub for our tea, and to be fair the meal was nice. Fish and chips. Cornish fish is always better than up here, but they had an really tasty herby batter for it. Very nice. However, I made some quip about the service being slow (that they must be catching the fish) that was overheard. When I ordered pudding the barman went into the back and brought it out. He went back into […]

My exciting plan to buy a cool car has suffered a set-back. Or three. The Midget is still cool. In a dinky sort of way. I mean, look: I started doing some research and narrowing down the options and discovered the model I wanted was a MKIII, (1275cc, 1966-1974) really good nick, under £4k. Then I hit the snags. Even the bigging-it-up adverts were talking about ‘rolling restoration’. ie, never out of the garage and a money pit. Also they were saying that really they need to be kept in a garage. Whether that’s to prevent the rain getting in through the old canvas soft top or to stop them dissolving into dust (or both) wasn’t specified. The thing is, when you start bringing that sort of thing to the equation I begin to reconsider. I think it’s a cool car, but I want a car I can use. And I don’t have a garage. If it’s just going to be a posing, second car, (with a surprise garage attachment) it leads me to ask a more central question; “What am I thinking?” When did I start considering a cool/ fun CAR? If it’s not practical, is a money pit, and a symptom of my ongoing midlife crisis then it has to be a motorbike. No-brainer. So it’s back to the Kawasaki Bonnie clone. Just feast your eyes on this: As someone said of an earlier Japanese clone; “as near as you can get to a Triumph without pushing it home at night.” This is no longer true, as the rebooted, modern, reliable Triumph do their own Bonneville. Ironically the new Triumph is accepted as a reliable brand because they took a Kawasaki Ninja engine apart and used it as a blueprint. So I’ve read, anyway. The thing is, if you are buying a retro bike it is obviously for the looks. The performance is going to be tepid, the aerodynamics are tits, the riding position  is unsheltered and, at any speed for any time bloody uncomfortable. This means you are buying a bike on the aesthetic alone, if you take reliability as a given. Why then, Triumph, are you fielding this:   To the untrained eye the bikes might look similar so let me list the woes; observe the mag (magnesium alloy) wheels. Ughh. Cast a disdainful eye at the forks and notice the lack of gaiters (the rubber ‘Nora Batty stockings’ things). Where also are the rubber tank pads? What the very heck is that travesty of an exhaust end-pipe? Finally, and most importantly, what is that lump of crap you are passing off as an engine? It is an ugly, radiator cooled (as opposed to proper air cooled) offence to the eye. *pass the mind-bleach!* They (Triumph) have done a nice stylistic makeover with the cafe-racer Thruxton; It ticks the cafe-racer aesthetic boxes; dropped handlebars, rear-set footrests/ foot controls and seat hump. All of this was so that your working class Johnny could change his motorbike from […]