Jammo

For once, I've had a free uninterrupted day to get stuck into a load of computers lying around that kept getting in the way and cluttering up the house. It's felt strangely good for the soul to be able to chuck some music on (today's particular choice is live concerts that are on YouTube - Pete Tong and the Heritage Orchestra doing Ibiza classics, and the Avicii tribute concert from a few years ago), forget about the day job and other shite going on and just crack on pissing about with computers and getting the to-do list that bit shorter.

One of the friends I made in hospital has just got home after being in for over a year(!)
She has £9 to her name until she gets her bank account unfrozen.
She wanted a pizza, 10" with onion, but with the delivery fee it came to £10.
She didn't want to phone them because autism and embarrassment about being seen to be "begging".
I overcame my own phone anxiety, phoned them up and explained the situation, they're sending her out a 12" pizza for the £9!
Feels good to help out someone who has helped me out so much, even if it's only in a small way.
 
In other grin worthy news, I'll be home for the weekend tomorrow morning, and if that goes well I'll be home most of next week and possibly home for good by christmas!

He is referring to puddlethumpers thread 'i did a Big and joined the circus'
Excellent thread by the way!

Dad had an emergency operation.  They've found the mother of all tumours in his vocal cords, gave him a traciotomy on Friday.  They took a biopsy.  And will decide next week what treatment he's getting
Yesterday he was sitting up.  They are feeding him through a tube. 

Today they let him get a bit of fresh air.

Sounds shit?  Why have I put it in the grin thread? 
Well he didn't die in the operating theatre. 
Doctor says : You aren't ill. You do have cancer and that might make you ill. But right now you are okay. 

That is 100% a scam. Nobody in their right mind would ever pay £75 for one of those hateful things, let alone the fact it's a fucking diesel. If there was none of those things left, it'd be several too many.

It's been a looooong time !!
Mostly due to getting the Triumph back from having it's chassis changed and various other things, and then finding that I had a whole lot of working to do to correct what their mechanic had fouled up !   This in turn led to despondency which took a long time to drag myself out from under, and then finally I've spent the last couple of months making a Surrey top roof for that car. 
With that done to such a stage where i can now use the car and get on with other thing, combined with my wanting to attend various events in different parts of the country ..and then seeing how few Bed & breakfast had availability in the summer months nearby event venues, ..and the cost of those !!! not least because as I'm so big a single bed really doesn't give me a decent night's sleep, and it's time again to get on and get this trailer tent fit for use. 
I've asked a local boat cover company to have a look at making the wrap around cover for it ..and from our initial conversation was shocked at the price estimated. Still it's something I want, and if used frequently will pay for itself in short term (compared with even basic hotel room prices). So tomorrow I'm hoping to get the trailer around to that trimmer and to get a cover made. 
Last week I pulled the trailer out from the back garden where it's been sitting neglected for all these past months.  I gave it a scrub over and cleaned out the spiders and earwigs from within.  The shitty fibreglass that I struggled with because it wasn't curing has now cured ...but is still tacky when rubbed down !  I needed to smooth the inside face of the lid's overlap, so as to not snag and tear the fabric cover I hope to have made for it.  And in cleaning that up with a sanding disc, even though used on a slow speed - I spent more time wire brushing the sticky crud off the disc than actually sanding the surface flat.     I hate this resin. never had such issues before.  Someone has suggested that some fibreglass resin has wax in it which floats to the surface as it cures.  That may be useful for fibreglassing a roof but for what I'm using it for it's more trouble than it worth.
Aside from that I've reshaped a bimini cover bow that I picked out of the boatyard skip. I used the smaller of the two parts but still it was far too rounded a  shape and 24" too wide.  It's an anodised aluminium tubem with I'm guessing a steel rod inside it, because it  took a lot of effort to straighten the curvature, My 100kg trying to bend it over the raised edge of a paving slab (with a piece of carpet on that to prevent scratching the metal).  I then had to rebend it to a tighter curve, trying to get things symmetrical and to roughly match the curvature of the trailer's body tub . . .

^ rebending that bow to fit within the trailer took a whole lot of work.  I must be getting old ! 
I would have preferred it tighter into the corners but that would have been pushing my luck ..and my knee caps used for bending.  I have to pretend its rounded shape was deliberate ..to allow for the fabric to fold away under it
 

^ I'm impressed that it's size happened to work out usable  ..And almost corresponding to my drawings !     The string illustrates where the cover will hang and the additional headroom I gain by adding the single bow.  That headroom is not important over the bed but it will be over the doorway. 
Next up., was cut down the jockey wheel's tyre . . .
  
^ don't try this with a pneumatic tyre !     Because the jockey wheel (tyre) was previously too big, and it needing to swivel around under the trailer's chassis, meant that the whole trailer was tilted up at the front and imbalanced.  In turn, this led to the bottom edge of the back of the trailer's body being prone to dig into rough ground.  As you can see I cut quite a chunk of rubber off the tyre with a saw, and then went around again cutting the hard corners off, before using a sanding disc to round the tyre again.   It's amazing how much easier it is to man-handle the trailer now ..chalk and cheese.!   The loop of string is simply a lead to pull it along with ..which is easier than my reaching / bending down to the handle.  It's shape is quite chunky looking but this trailer is all so very small and therefore low. 
Overall : 32" high (812mm) x 45" (1145mm) wide x 65-3/4" (1670mm) from ball hitch to the very rear ..to be lightweight and neatly tuck in behind Katie.
   
^  I've also fitted the rear lamps I'd bought.  They're repro items for a split-screen VW combi, and are not wired in yet so I've borrowed a light board.  Why is it that when I borrow things - I have to fix them before I can use them ?  ..they just see me coming don't they !  Out of the six filaments in the four bulbs - only one illuminated - duh !  A two minute job turned into two hours.

^ and last but not least I added some grease to aid the telescopic action, and some marks, as well as a length of cord - to easily know when the trailer is fully extended. Beforehand., it was inch in and out until I could locate the pin / bolt in the hole to lock it in place.   At the top of this photo you can see an over centre toggle clamp ..also just added, to secure the trailer's-front-half legs, which are also the stays for the hinged lid. 
And so there we have it. Unfinished but ready to go off for the cover to be made.   I've done series of drawings to explain what I'm hoping to achieve . . .


 
That's all for this update, hope to see some progress in a couple more months.  The trimmer has suggested a nine week turn around to make this.  That should get the trailer back to me ready for camping in October ! ??
Bidding you a good evening.
Pete 
   

3 years today since I found my old man passed. 
Don’t want this to come across as a beg for sympathy as I’m very much at peace with it all but it always comes to the front of my mind around now. I just find it easy to talk about on here as almost anonymous, but it’s a release to write it so feel free to ignore, this’ll be a long one and not a very nice story.
 
The old man had a brain aneurysm probably 18-20 years ago now, I remember it vividly - he was a senior sales manager at the time and it was a red hot day, he came home from work and complained of a terrible headache, blaming it on the sun/heat. Kept throwing up etc so his GF at the time took him to the docs who rushed him to Addenbrookes with suspected Meningitis… quickly turned out to be a brain aneurysm which they said would be a 50/50 chance of survival so be prepared. 
 
It was a success and he came home a week or so later and we thanked our lucky stars.. little did we know that the dad we took into the hospital never came home. In fact I’d go as far as to say I lost my ‘dad’ back then. 
 
For the rest of his life he just went down hill, I believe he was let down by the system -
0 aftercare, no support at all - he was a completely different person. Couldn’t hold down a job for more than a few weeks, didn’t look after himself both in health or hygiene, relationship with his gf dwindled within a year, his house got repossessed, ended up in a rented flat that between my brother and I paying managed to keep him going as what little benefits he got didn’t cover anything.
Fast forward to July 2019, I was working at Silverstone Classic.. 4 or 5 nights away.
Our routine was that the old man would email me his food shopping list on the Thursday/Friday, I’d then pick it up over the weekend and drop it at his on the Sunday/Monday.
After driving home from the show on the Sunday evening I’d planned to have the week off work but it was manic so I worked the Monday. 
 
Tuesday morning I said to Amber that id not heard from Dad re his shopping so I emailed him to chase it - this was probably 9am. I didn’t think much of it and popped into town  to the bakery, weirdly remember so vividly whilst in the queue I suddenly thought hang on I’ve heard nothing at all from him since before I’d gone away the week before so I best give him a ring. Nothing.. I think I subconsciously knew then.. When I looked back, I’d called his house phone 8 times in 12 mins to no avail. I drove straight to his, he never locked the door so I let myself in and there was post on the floor.. I said out loud I can remember it “he’s fucking dead isn’t he” -  legged it up the stairs, no one in the lounge, walked through the kitchen shouting dad? To nothing, opened his bedroom door and he’s laid sideways on his bed - as if he’d sat on the side of the bed then collapsed backwards.
It was quite obvious what the outcome was -
we’re way past checking for a pulse.
Did the standard 999 call, ambulance/police turn up as it’s an unexplained death, 
Post mortem comes back and I can’t remember the official wording but basically a heart attack and previously undiagnosed heart disease. They put the date as 30th July but said he’d been there probably 3-4 days. 
 
He was constantly on his PC so I checked the browsing history and the last entry was about 4:30pm on the Friday - I found him around 12pm on the Tuesday.
It’s a weird feeling, I still don’t think to this day I’ve ever really cried. I was very numb and for a long time had terrible flashbacks and nightmares of finding him. That stuck with me for over a year. 
 
Finding it ‘easy’ to cope with the loss of a parent I think is the wrong term but because of what happened years ago with the illness, I’d almost had to come to terms with losing my dad many years ago - so I was really coping with the death itself now and the circumstances. 
 
Luckily I’ve never had any prior dealings with finding anyone who has passed and I obviously hope to never again but finding my own dad having been passed for some time was fucking horrific and ruined my mental health, anxiety is still a huge issue even 3 years later and I really should have sought some professional help/counselling for probably borderline PTSD but I get by now. 
 
Anyway, really sorry to spill all that but thank you for anyone that managed to read it all! 
 
RIP old man,  9/11/55 - 30/07/19

This fourmonth hence, I hadde cause for to dispense with mine Vauxhalle Astra G, as mine goodwyfe had comment’d most unfavorably on the fucktonnes of blackest smoak that didst issue forth whence caning it throu’ the Mighty Thames tunnel at Blackwall, and didst cause her coiffe to smell most lamentably of unburn'd deasel-oile, acause the passenger window hadst dropp’d but a trifling hand-breadth.   
Alsoe, the rear offside bearing wast remonstrating dismally again, and I couldst not be fuck’d pulling the cunte off once more. I dost sweare, the mechanickal particulars vended by olde Mssr. Rottingdean at the sign of Eurasian Conveyance Partes are fabricat’d from the foullest rejects of Deptforde cheesemongers mix’d with fulsome nightsoil.  
Accordingly, I didst arrange to place a free-notification in the Oxforde Gazette, begging to informe gentlemen readers of the availability of myne goodly conveyance at a moste moderate sum of three guineas, for partes or repaire. 
Some days later, just afore the city waites cryed six of the clock in the past-noon, were I at leisure in mine studye-chamber whence I didst heare a sharpe knocke at mine door. Upon setting mine eye to the latch, I could see naught, yet again didst the knocke sound.   
I didst then unbolt the door, and aspied a smol boy in rags standing thereupon mine thresholde.  
Afore I couldst enquire of the nature of his errand, the whelp didst exclaim, “My master doth say, is thine item still available?”  
Confuzzled, I didst state, “Yea, if it is mine Astra 1.7 that thy master doth make query of, it is indeed still available.”  
At that, he didst turn and run down the staircase at Ax-Court and thence out into Whitehall.  
I tarried in the hall-way for quite some tyme, for to see if his master wouldst appear - but he didst never return. 
Most vexed, I didst turn and bolt the door, and return to perusing mine copy of The Auto-Trader, for to see if there were any Passat turbodiesels left that hadst not been shipp’d to Prussia. But not many moments had elaps’d afore another knocke came.  
I didst ope mine door once more, and t’was a different smol boy astood there wearing a most absurde cock’d hat. All he didst utter was, “My master doth say, what is thy best pryce?” 
Most affronted at the brazen-nose of the whelp, did I splutter, “Indeed, sirrah, you may informe thy master that mine Astra is price’d most moderately at three guineas, and I shalt not suffer cockchafing offeres.”  
And at that, the rascal dids’t turn and flee down the steps.  
But not many minutes later didst another rat-a-tat sound, and the smol boy with the hat did stand there most bold once more.  
Now all he didst utter was “My master doth say, one guinea tonight, goodsir”.  
Much taken abacke at this insolence, I didst boxe the cur’s ears by way of answer, and sent him howling backe out into the Mall.  
As I clos’d the door once more, Elisabeth didst appear from her embroidery-chamber with a goblet of good hock-wyne.  
“I hope thou art not planning for to go out to-night, Samuel, for thou knowest full well mine mother is to call upon us at eight bells for supper, and thou art to give her a lyft back to her rooms in Cheapeside thereafter.”  
I assure’d her that all messages coming forth were relat’d to sale of mine Astra, and that t’were all at her owne requeste that I were inviting this pestilence most foule upon myselfe, which in truthe were proving more tiresomely arduous than mine accursed bladder-stones.  
Over the next two houres, suffered I a further eighteen smol boys to come a-rapping upon mine door, all most curt and insolent, assortedly claiming their masters would fetch myne conveyance this very nyte for a most dismal low amount, or that their masters wish’d most keenly to purchase mine wondrous conveyance, even to pay a handsome bag of gold sovereigns for the great privilege, but they were sorely all fighting for Emperor Leopold in the Brabant, and wouldst thusly instruct for to send me mine gold directly via The Union of the Weste, if I wouldst but only supply mine detailes.  
Churls, mountebanks and niddy-noddys, to a man. 
In truth, afore longe mine knuckles were much bruis’d and most weary’d, acause of such ear-boxings was I obligat’d to discharge upon their sorry persons.  
No sooner had I chase’d one whelp whose master did beg to swop me an elderly bull-dog with but three legges, than a knocke didst sound once more from the hall-way. 
Sore vexed from such impish torment without cease, didst I wrench ope the door in great temper and chunter out, “Go forth and fuck thyself most heartily, foulsome fruit of a whore’s dung-hamper!” 
Thou mayst be sure that I had clean forgott that Elisabeth’s mother were due for to sup with us. 
T’were a frosty enough repast, with Elisabeth and her beldame eyeing mine selfe in most sour and silent fashion, and I were sore glad when I heard another knock to the door and had sound reason to exit the dining-chamber most swiftly. 
Past the vestibule, didst I encounter a sorry-lookyng wight, somewhat besmirch’d with dunge, tipping himselfe as Ignatius Scrool Esq, and begging leave for to view mine Astra, as it possesseth many of the qualities he was most desirous of in a conveyance; viz. that it were exceeding cheape. 
Calling through to mine goodwyfe that I wouldst not be outwith two shakes of a lambes’ tail, didst I usher Mssr Scrool downe the steppes to the back-yarde, where mine Astra had been park’d up. 
In an act most fortunate, t’were somewhat wette and darke out, so the lacquer-peele didst not show too badly.  
I didst start the Astra, which regrettably took longer to catche than optimal, all the while taking greate care not to draw the attention of mine buyer to the unfortunate plumes of smoak arising, and turning on the radio for to maske a grievous grindyng sound, that had appear’d only the day before. 
Mr Scrool didst pop the bonnett, and after a few moments of poking around beneathe, presently remark’d, “goodsir, the injector seales are fuck’d, here and here, and I daresay thy water-pumpe is on its last legges, going by the fuckyng noise herein.” 
I didst demur most forcefully, decrying him a cheeseparing scoundrel here for to beat me down to naught, for this fyne engine were in sounde healthe. But that I wouldst, in truth, accepte two guineas and six shillings for it. 
“Nay sir, not two guineas – not any guineas. Not a brass farthing. It runs lumpy as pig-knuckle porridge and stinks of deasel. I fear it is fuckyng fuck’d, and therefore of no account to me. I wilt bid thee a good-nyte.” 
And off he didst stride, leaving me standing most forlorn.  
Asudden, didst I then notice mine wyfe’s beldame approaching – quoth she, in high dudgeon, “Samuel, I desire to return to mine lodgings. Wilt thy shitte-boxe make it to Cheapeside, or shalt I just hail an Uber now, and save thee from making an even bigger pryck of thyselfe?” 
Stung by her wordes, I didst protest that I hath toatal faith in mine conveyance – and in mere minutes didst we pull out onto the main thoroughfare towards the Great Abbey of Westminster. 
Lamentably, afore we coulds’t cross the bridge, mine Astra did judder most alarmingly and make much smoak, causing a grievous loss of forwarde momentum, and I wert oblige’d for to pull over. 
Mine cross-mater didst depart the conveyance most volubly, calling hence, “I shoulde have knowne, Samuel, that thy automotive wanke-socke had no more integrity than thy spousal affections. Plainly, thine injector seales are well befouled and yet I daresay thou wilt yet buy another. Faith, knowest thou not by this pretty pass that all Vauxhalls are naught but shitt?” 
And, with that, she flagg’d down a passing cab forthwith, and didst exit over the bridge. 
Mortal wounded, I didst pop the bonnett and were near knock’d colde by the aroma of deasel arising thereof, and beneath the oile cap t’were clear signs of Black Death. 
As I stood forlorn, a smol boy of dim familiarity sporting an idiot cock’d hat didst scuttle past, calling over his shoulder, “Wouldst thou had taken mine master’s guinea now, cuntichops? Thy conveyance is not worth but a hogge’s turd!” 
In the ende, I push’d the fucker off the wharfe at Blackfriars into the Mighty Thames. A poxe upon the lotte of them.  
 
 
Fucke mine lyfe. 

Please don’t post any more like this. I’ve just silenced a bar full of wedding guests with my laughing. 
 
Brilliant!
 
 

So you fingering your dogs arse and her having a lollypop stuck to her fanny does? 

Partner had a drawing comissioned for me. I'm fingering my dog's arsehole for some reason.
She sent a load of photos and info and this is what he drew.
It says a lot about us.

So, I finally owned up to buying the 100 today (yes, it’s been sat on the drive for a few days now).
As I wasn’t planning on bringing it home, I told my mrs ‘I have a car to move’ when I went to collect it. Then due to Murphy’s law I’ve ended up bringing it home and leaving it on the trailer (if it doesn’t touch the ground, I don’t have to own up to owning it, right?). Obviously, I have been doing everything asked of me by my partner whilst it is out there in order to keep things sweet and avoid questions until I can shift it 😅 
Today I wanted to play cars, but she fancied a trip to the beach. No bother, whilst I don’t like the beach it’s only down the road, and I can take beers to pass the time. Keeping her happy is the name of the game until I think of a way to own up to my bad decisions.
I’m an idiot and I often forget to use sun lotion. Last weekend I got burnt like a bastard on my shoulders and I’ve been uncomfortable all week. Before we left I asked if she had packed the sun lotion. ‘Yes, it’s in the bag’. We go to the beach. First call of action for me, sun lotion as I don’t want to get burnt again… yeah, the sun lotion isn’t in the bag. My dearly beloved forgot to pack it (‘yes, it’s in the bag!). I’m not happy but I don’t complain. A little while later, I’m asked out of the blue ‘when are you going to own up to owning that Audi?’ 😳 oh dear. I fessed up, told the story of the ancient advert etc., she wasn’t angry (we have enough cars that it’s obvious I had a problem already) but she did chirpily mention that we’d now be staying at the beach as long as she liked.
Now, I’m definite that she didn’t deliberately leave the sun lotion at home, it was an honest mistake. However, karma is a bitch, because I’m burnt to fuck and she’s absolutely fine!
here’s to another week of discomfort then…

I am a bit pissed on a school night but this has had me laughing,  I can't stop watching it 

f29dcb05924f49de58234c6064751be3.mp4

MOT season started.  1 down, 3 to go
Panda up next 

just chilling out in the garage, faith no more playing on the jukebox, a cold beer in me hand, looking at the Exocet and thinking “fucking hell, i built that !”

 

Got promoted.  #chuffed

Shall we talk about benefits?  (Again!!!)
The story so far... I applied for Universal Credit in a somewhat last-ditch attempt to get some benefit, any benefit!, coming in.  I was approved, but told they can't send me any money because Lynne's state pension raises our household income too high.
So... couple of weeks ago they asked me to attend a Work Capability Assessment.  I did that, and the doctor who examined me agreed almost instantly that I'm not fit to work, at all.  Last week I got a message telling me they accepted that and would be sending me £432 on the 14th.  And implicitly, every month thereafter.
Thursday this week, a message arrives telling me they failed to assess Lynne's pension correctly, and therefore will not be sending me £432; not only that, it's too late for the first instalment, that's already gone out, so they are going to have to reclaim it.  How fucking cruel is that???
And then a text arrives from my bank telling me £432 has been paid in.
I think I'm allowed to be grumpy over this mess.
Meanwhile I have an appeal in for PIP.
FFS.
 

April has nearly passed already.  At the beginning of the month I drove over to Nether Winchendon where I was married in Dec 1972 and where my wife has rested since May 2007.  It poured with rain so I did not get out of the car, instead stopping at Brill (windmill) to eat my packed lunch.  A bit later in the month I stopped for a walk near Preston Capes and was buzzed by three army light helicopters. Today, as it was sunny and warm, I decided to go out for a drive but the Tipo did not respond to the ignition key at the Start position. No current was being drawn so I went in to my garage to find the special tool (hammer), then clouted the battery terminals and the starter solenoid. Normal service resumed after I'd hit the solenoid. I stopped after about a mile on a dusty unmade lane near Helmdon for a couple of photos next to a crop.

had a bad week, absolutely knackered today I shut up work a few hours early and sent everyone home for an early bank holiday and buggered off for some peace in the van.
The usual place I go had a few people on so I gave it a miss, next stop was still shut up for winter so I popped in to the farm here on the off chance, and lucked out, he's got the cows in another field so I have 200+ acres to myself 

He still wouldn't take any more than a fiver off me. 
I'd give anything to live here, even in the van. 
 

The traditions will be coming thick and fast because the day is barreling by swiftly. 
Traditional collection thread tradition the first:
An photograph of a treasured family pet. 
The morning dog walk. Poo count up from none to one. 

 
With the cresting of the first brown of the day, we are officially underway. 

Been called out by keith777 as a serial lurker here, hes right, been lurking for a few years. I can blame him for my interest in shit cars because hes had a few! My current shite assembly consists of a kia sorento, passed down, 2.5crdi i think, auto, crap on juice but serves well in pulling our caravan. Actually 2 caravans, ones a fluerette unsure of age but will be up for sale soon. Quite unique as a folding caravan. My other is a 1993 abi ambassodor. Sorry, this is a car forum....Managed to bag 4 alloys and good tyres of worldofceri for not alot, serving very well. I run a peugeot partner van on an 06 plate, would love to try veg but i think i have wrong pump?! Its solid and reliable though. You may be able to tell i no nothing in regards to mechanics but this is a humble place from my view of lurking! Great to be a part of this!

I wake up every morning, stumble out of bed
stretching and a yawning another day ahead
when I drive my Renner, time goes slowly by
'til I put on £1 shop wheel trims, then it really starts to fly

1985 Renault 5 GTL STARTS+DRIVES SPARES OR REPAIRS BARN FIND | eBay
My baby takes the morning train
his Renault 5 is fucked again
he strolls on home down our back lane
to find me welding for him

(Neil Leppard, FB Market Place)
 
He takes me to a movie, or a restaurant
sometimes we go dogging, anything I want 
only when I'm in this, do I insist it's night
so nobody can see us in this lacquer peeled 'delight'
 

RENAULT 5 MONACO 1.4 1988 CLASSIC AUTOMATIC, SPARES OR REPAIR, MOT EXPIRED | eBay
 
My baby takes the morning train
his Renault 5 is fucked again
he strolls on home down our back lane
to find me welding for him
 

1989 renault 5 1,1 petrol | eBay
 
My baby takes the morning train
his Renault 5 is fucked again
the sunroof leaks like a storm drain
he finds me wiring for him
 
Renault 5 Monaco | eBay
 

Me, yesterday.