The rudderless ship

In the middle of last week I was assigned to a new project so, over the past few days, I have dutifully attended calls, listened relatively carefully and made several pages of rather scruffy, but comprehensive, notes. We had already worked out that I had been summoned to perform task a when in fact tasks b and c  were also needed and, in fact, needed to precede task a.

As I asked a few probing questions it became apparent that, although a solution was required, none of the project team had considered it necessary to document the requirements for that solution. I could understand this as, after all, they had only been assembled for several months and the issue that spawned the project raised it's head years ago*!

The absence of a Requirements Architect from the project team was no surprise either so, with four days exposure to the issue, I set about drafting a high level requirements document. I then e-mailed it out, asking for comments and approval. I received a couple of replies and it suddenly became apparent that this project had been running for the best part of a year and no-one had bothered to involve the relevant Service owner.

This was unbe … fucking … lievable! These halfwit, cretins had been attempting to create a new service and had not involved an accountable individual who would take responsibility for the new service. Needless to say there were several tumbleweed moments on today's call when I pointed out this fundamental deficiency with the project. How the hell did they think they could make decisions when none of the group had any accountability. Give me fucking strength!

Feeling that I had definitely earned today's pay, I headed out to the garage and turned these manky, shitty items

 Into these shiny, soon to be painted engine mounting plates

---

* This, for any American Readers, is sarcasm

From Shitty to Shiny, Part 2

A couple of weeks ago I made a start on degreasing and tidying up the Enfield's engine. It runs and starts up beautifully … or at least it did before I took the bike apart … so hopefully all it will need is attention to the cosmetics and a service as part of this project. I have made a few references to this activity so I thought I would use today's Journal entry as an opportunity to illustrate progress.

The Journal entries of 28th September, 12th and 26th October show the grimy and oxidised state of the engine. These photographs show the progress on this almost Herculean endeavour.

Most definitely a "before" 

Getting There

Very different to the photo taken on 4th November

I'm now willing to approach it without donning a Hazmat suit

Note the nasty engine mounting plate on the gearbox

The enamel and primer is due to be delivered tomorrow so the weekend activity is likely to be sanding brackets and spacers before I get busy with the paint brush.

Enfield Stuff …look away now

There is not a huge amount to report for today but I did find time in the early evening to head over to the other side of Alcester and drop of my wheel components with Ray. He is a semi-retired chap who likes to keep his hand in and his pension topped up. If all goes to plan I should be able to pick up my new wheels in a week or two.

I also made another call to my friendly Bike Workshop with yet another MOT related enquiry … During the shot blasting and powder coating the VIN Plate needed to be removed from the Enfield's frame. There was no way that the original plate could be riveted back on* and I started to look at replacement services. They do exist but the quotes were high for a few square centimetres of stamped aluminium plate. An internet search suggested that the VIN plate was not mandatory from an MOT perspective provided that the vehicle identification number was clearly stamped elsewhere on the frame. The number is clearly engraved on the Enfield's headstock and a quick call to my local Bike Workshop confirmed that this was sufficient.

I now need to concentrate on reaching the point where the engine and frame can be reconnected. My to do list looks something like this …

• Strip and paint engine mounting plates and spacers (paint ordered, stripping started)
• Polish Engine Cases (in progress)
• Refit Headstock Bearing Races (this weekend perhaps)
• Check and refurbish or replace engine mounting bolts

It doesn't look too bad but the first job is going to be tricky as a couple of the engine mounting plates need to be stripped and painted in situ. This means that there will need to be some very careful sanding and masking to avoid marking the engine. The other bits and bobs are straightforward to paint and I will probably do those in the warmth of the house.

---

* Perfectly legible but the fixing holes were destroyed during removal from the frame. Now carefully filed with the bike's documentation.

School Fees are due

Today started with yet another two hours of travelling to spend twenty minutes in a waiting room and five minutes in a dentists chair.

After poking, prodding and tapping on my implant the Dentist pronounced that all was well and my next visit will be in three weeks time. Only then will they finally take the impression for the double crown that will be anchored by the aforementioned implant.

I managed to make it home before eleven o'clock and fortunately had a relatively quiet working day. Having installed my front wheel bearings yesterday, I found the time to call a local, semi-retired chap who builds spoked wheels. I talked him through my requirements and he seemed pretty pleased with my approach … apparently former clients had turned up with 36 spoke hubs to be connected to 40 spoke rims and all sorts of other nonsense, so my fairly straightforward request was viewed positively. I arranged to drop the parts over to him on Tuesday evening.

30% arrived home well before six this evening as tonight was to be Whiffler's first attendance at school. At six o'clock sharp we bundled him in to the car with a large bag of treats,* membership forms and a cheque book to pay his school fees. We are rejoining the Dog Training Club that we used when Tyson and Marauder were young and it was a delight to see familiar faces still running the sessions.

The puppy class was the expected chaos of excited young dogs and we took our seats after registration and introducing ourselves to our new classmates. Neither us nor the trainers had any great expectations for Whiffler as general experience is that it takes a puppy a good few weeks to get over the excitement of school and work out what they are supposed to do.

The first exercise was walking to heel and sitting. We have already taught Whiffler to sit on command and he is reasonably used to walking on the lead so this went very well. From the dog's perspective he was getting free cheese for stuff he normally does for nothing! The second exercise was the real test … the recall. I left Whiffler in the arms of an assistant and retreated the length of the Village Hall. The aim was to call him and have him run directly to me. I must admit that I had real doubts as to his new puppy friends and 30% all sat in a row on his left. I thought the chances of him running to me were minimal. I gave the club assistant the nod and she released Whiffler. I called him, crouched and opened my arms to encourage him …

… and he charged across the hall to me, barely swerving in the direction of his classmates. The little Devil had, as they say, nailed it! The final exercises were doorway etiquette and walking amongst dogs and their owners. The former was a doddle as this has been ingrained in him from his first day here at The Pile and the second went well using a vast quantity of cheese to keep his attention on me rather than the other dogs.

It was a great start to his edumacation and I really enjoyed taking him along to puppy classes. I always regretted not training T&M further than we did, but the classes just did not work for Marauder after she was nipped by an unruly Collie.

Let's see how far we can go with Whiffler.

---

* cubed cheddar … he will do anything for cheese

Weekend Round Up

Saturday started with some gentle tidying after TP's party and then seemed to be a re-run of last Saturday, in that we again headed over to Stratford, ... but this time we managed to spend less money.

After a few essential errands we headed back to the car, pausing at the market to buy extra vegetables after locating the long lost soup recipe a couple of days ago.

The afternoon saw me nip in to Bromsgrove to purchase a new Dremel, as I have killed mine polishing the engine cases of the Enfield. TP and I then took a wander around the Three Miler with the dogs and, at no point, did we see either Gypsies or any dead horses. This might seem a little random but the reason for this statement will become apparent later. After not seeing any dead horses TP and I headed home and, to be honest, I didn't do a huge amount for the rest of the day.

I did remember to put my new front wheel bearings in the freezer in the garage as I planned to fit them in the Enfield's front wheel hub on Sunday … those in the know advise that they are far easier to knock in if they are chilled and the hub is warmed.

Late in the afternoon were joined by Stevie and the Elf for an early supper. 30% had foolishly agreed to attend a Carol Concert performed by the choir in which her mum sings. She kindly advised that I didn't need to go if I didn't want to … This was a result, as a group of pensioners singing festive and religious songs was never going to have me champing at the bit to attend. To make life easier for everyone I even came up with some semi-plausible bullshit to justify my absence … apparently I needed to stay home with the dogs as their routine had been sufficiently disturbed already after TP's party.* It was obviously Stevie was in no mood for carols either as he asked me if I needed a hand to look after the dogs.

30% eventually rolled in from the Carol Concert at about half past ten and it was apparent that I had had the better evening. The concert was the typical cliche'd church choir "do" right down to the tea being served in the lined, green, Wood's Ware Beryl teacups.

Saturday rolled in to Sunday and one advantage of Whiffler sleeping on the floor in the bedroom is that he no longer wakes me as early as he used to. I actually managed to remain in my pit until after the clocks had struck seven.

My morning started with a couple of minor DIY jobs before I headed back in to the kitchen and put a batch of vegetable soup in the slow cooker. I then headed out in to the garage and, after a little tidying, made a start on fitting the wheel bearings in my new front wheel hub. The job went incredibly easily and by eleven I was back in the kitchen drinking coffee.

We lunched early and then 30% and I headed out around the Three Miler with the dogs. As we headed back in to the village we noticed that there had been some fly tipping in the gateway to one of the fields. For some reason I wandered closer to view the pile of rubbish and only then did I notice something peculiar poking out from under the heap … it was a horse's muzzle. It didn't take the deductive powers of Sherlock Holmes to come up with the theory that one of the local Gypsy groups must have decided that a piss poor attempt to hide the corpse was far easier than paying hard cash to have the poor thing taken by a Fallen Stock Handler … tight fuckers!

Once back at home I headed back out to the garage and rapidly got bored with polishing aluminium engine cases. I therefore decided to degrease the Enfield's engine plates and start to remove the paint and corrosion as they need to be repainted before I can mount the engine back in the frame.

It was dark by the time I returned to the house and, after cleaning up, I seasoned and liquidised my batch of soup. I then pottered and irritated 30% as she prepared a superb roast leg of lamb for Sunday dinner.

---

* There is a modicum of truth in this nonsense as Whiffler was not a happy boy after TP's party and was not going to settle in his crate … it now appears that his new sleeping place is on the floor on 30%'s side of the bed!

First fire of the Autumn

Today, perhaps somewhat foolishly, 30% and I had agreed that TP could invite a few friends over to help him celebrate his eighteenth birthday. Whilst I worked, 30% and TP clattered around the house clearing the three rooms that had been assigned for the purpose of partying. He had all of the ground floor with the exception of the lounge , dining room and study and 30% and I would do our best to stay out of the way with the dogs in the lounge.

As the day came to a close TP and I took the dogs around the Three Miler and I then took on the task of lighting a fire in the Ingelnook in the Hall. It had been a few years since I last lit a fire in this hearth and, if memory serves me correctly, it would have been a small, smoky, low heat combustion used for the purpose of smoking some green bacon. The last time I lit a blazing fire in this hearth must have been about ten years ago when we had a joint housewarming cum bonfire night cum eighth birthday party for TP back in 2004.

I soon had a reasonable fire burning and the occasional swirls of smoke soon diminished once I had some heat in the hearth, chimney and fire back. The fire made the, as yet undecorated,* hall come to life and it became a superb party room.

TP's guests arrived around half past seven and 30%, the dogs and I slipped away for an evening with the TV turned up significantly higher than usual. The party, apparently was a huge success with minimal breakages** and a single episode of exterior vomiting.*** Late in the evening most of the guests disappeared and the few that remained headed off to James N's house at the other end of the village for reasons that never actually became apparent.

TP eventually returned at about half past midnight with Peanut and another rather pleasant young lady in tow. He then asked "where's Annabelle?' We gave him blank stares in response. After some semi-drunken conversation we eventually learnt that the mysterious Annabelle had crashed upstairs and had escaped our notice when we had been clearing up the party debris and depositing items in TP's bedroom. It became apparent that TP had also failed to notice her presence in his bed and was stripped naked and about to climb under the duvet before he noticed her and made a tactical retreat.****

He had a lovely evening and it was a delight to hear a group of teenagers partying in the house.

---

* After the burst of refurbishment during the first six months of the year, I frankly got fed up with it and  a combination of work, a new puppy and the Enfield Project have been filling my time instead.
** two glasses
*** James N, in the garden … apparently a tactical chunder according to Charlie B.
**** Having seen Annabelle and her friend my advice would have been to carry on!

Vegetable Soup*

For the past few days I have had my head down trying to understand and progress a piece of work for a colleague.

I won't go in to detail as the actual task isn't really relevant. What I can say is that it is the usual nonsense involving lacklustre individuals that have failed to progress a fairly simple activity. Matters have now come to a head, as the deadline for a deliverable is this Friday. My task is to pull together loose threads and hassle and harry individuals to get them to do their jobs.

It has been challenging as the deliverable was not well defined and neither was the owner clear. As a result I have been retracing the team's steps to ensure that the source data is as complete and accurate as possible before passing it across and telling them to bloody well get on with it.

As of Thursday evening they appeared to be quite happy with progress and had enough information to blag their way through a presentation session with the client.

This isn't much of a Journal entry considering that I couldn't be bothered to jot anything down yesterday either so I thought I had better find some space filler ...

… A few weeks ago 30% and I attempted to recreate a soup I had made a couple of years ago. Normally one would consult a recipe book but I do have a habit of adapting recipes and I had a vague recollection of doing so with this culinary masterpiece. We found the source recipe but unfortunately the recipe book was unblemished with annotations and this Journal was silent on the subject too.

30% made a brave attempt at the recipe but her comment, after tasting, was along the lines of "it's alright, but you won't like it". This suggested a strong flavour of swede and parsnip, neither of which I am particularly fond.**

Where am I going with this? … a few moments ago 30% shifted the bread maker and and out wafted a scrappy piece of paper with the the following scrawled on it:-

12 oz Carrots (peeled and cut in to 2"lengths)
12 oz Celeriac (peeled and cut in to 2" lengths)
12 oz Leeks (halved and cut in to 2" lengths)
1 large Onion (roughly chopped)
6 oz Parsnips (peeled and cut in to 2" lengths)
6 oz Potatoes (peeled and cut in to 2" cubes)
3 Bay Leaves
Salt & Pepper to taste
3.75 Pints of Stock

6 hours in the slow cooker then liquidise

It was worth writing down so must be worth trying again.

---

* This title is amazingly appropriate for both subjects in today's entry.
** Actually I don't mind parsnips but swede is classed as sheep food in my family and I tend to avoid livestock fodder in my dietary choices.

From India with love

This morning I thought I would check on the progress of the two wheel hubs that I ordered from India at the beginning of the month.

After a few moments spent on the DHL website it was frustrating to find that they had made it from the Subcontinent to the village in four days but the half-wit driver had failed to find our house and had returned them to the Depot.* They were marked as On Hold, Address Information Needed. I phoned DHL and ensured that the delivery driver had additional information and also a contact number if they needed to be guided in. I was given assurances that the parcels would be delivered today.

Around mid-morning there was a knock at the door, or more accurately a lot of barking which meant that I got to the door before the knock was err knocked. I signed for my parcels and scurried back to the study like a child with an armful of Christmas presents. After wading through some of the most thoroughly labelled and wrapped parcels I have ever seen I was soon marvelling at two perfect wheel hubs. They had taken just over a week from ordering to arriving and were a fraction of the cost a UK Supplier would charge. I had even managed to avoid Customs charges on one of the parcels too.

Needless to say, my lunch break was spent comparing the new parts with the old to ensure I had ordered the right components … I had, which means that all I need to do now is get a pair of bearings installed in the front hub before I can arrange to have my hubs built up in to shiny, new alloy rims. Needless to say, my evening task was to chase one of the bearings from the old front hub in order to access a spacer that needs to be transferred to the new hub.

Other News
I will also take a moment to give a brief update on Whiffler's progress.

Over the weekend he was seen to be chewing on something and we explored to ensure he hadn't found something that would harm him. As TP explored his mouth a small tooth fell from his jaws indicating he has reached the point where his adult dentition is starting to come through. He is definitely growing up.

We all know that youngsters need to be educated and it is school time for Whiffler too. On Monday I received an email from the local Dog Training Club and he will be starting Puppy Classes next Monday evening … watch this space.

---

* The mendacious fucker had actually recorded the delivery as Not at home to make it look like it was my fault that they weren't delivered rather than the more accurate It's Friday and I can't be arsed to find a house on the High Street. There was definitely someone at home all day.

TP reaches his majority

Today is TP's eighteenth birthday so, as he shambled in to the kitchen this morning, I wished him happy birthday and advised that my obligations were now fulfilled and it was time to release him out in to the wild … His response was a pained look followed by a request that I put a slice of bread in the toaster for him.

The working day was reasonably relaxed and at midday 30% and I received two pairs of visitors. BMS, and SMS, shortly followed by 30%'s Dad and sister, turned up bearing gifts for TP. We therefore interrupted our working day to catch up on each others' news and drink coffee.

Late in the afternoon TP returned from college and we did a quick circuit of the Three Miler before putting on our glad rags and heading over to Worcester to collect Peanut before we travelled on to Cheltenham for a seven o'clock reservation at Daffodil. We had a beautiful dinner only slightly marred by an over loud jazz quartet* and then a dash through the rain back to the car.

---

* I am not a fan of this musical style and could go on at length about why I dislike it but elevator music sums it up. It may be clever and technically demanding but it goes nowhere and is basically just a bunch of prats showing off.

Weekend Round Up

Saturday morning was taken up with a trip to Stratford. 30% wanted me to look at a couple of ideas she had for my Christmas and Birthday presents. This necessitated a visit to the establishments of two traders at opposite end of the retail spectrum.* I can report that both were items of exquisite beauty … as for their descriptions, that can wait until the days in question.

In the afternoon we braved the weather and headed out with the dogs around the Three Miler. We had barely walked a quarter of a mile when we met a couple walking counter clockwise. They asked if we planned to walk the loop and then advised that further on the road was more flooded than they had ever seen, causing them to turn and retrace their steps. We thanked them for this warning and wandered on. I have walked the Three Miler on many occasions and have slipped on ice, tramped through snow and waded water so I was prepared to walk at least as far as the "flood" before making a decision.

When we reached the flood we could see that it's magnitude and depth had been somewhat exaggerated and could be passed by stepping up on to the verge and jumping a couple of open gullies where the water was pouring from the road to the ditch. Safely traversed, we continued and finished our walk without getting soaked … if only I could say the same for Whiffler. He acted like any four year old child and charged from puddle to puddle getting as wet as he possibly could.

A fairly lazy afternoon followed and a trip to the local Chinese Takeaway ensured that my kitchen tidying efforts were apparent for longer than normal.

On Sunday I headed out to the garage and spent much of the early part of the day degreasing and cleaning the engine. I discovered that alloy wheel cleaner applied with a nylon kitchen scouring sponge is remarkable at removing years of grime and oxidation from the alloy engine cases.

The early afternoon saw another circuit of the Three Miler completed and after a restorative cup of coffee I returned to the garage. The engine was now pretty clean so I thought I would try out an aluminium polishing kit that I had recently purchased. After an hour or so I stood back to examine my efforts and was amazed by the results. The once grey and crusty engine cases are now reflective and that is after the first phase with the coarse mop and polish. There is final stage yet to be completed that involves a soft mop and fine polish … however I need to purchase some smaller mops to reach in to the nooks and crannies of the engine before I perform the final polish. I am greatly encouraged by the results of the polishing, as previously I had experimented with a Dremel and, whilst satisfactory, realised that it would be very hard work to achieve a good finish.

We ate early this evening and then headed over to the Artrix at Bromsgrove for an evening of lunacy with Jason Byrne. It was very funny show delivered in Byrnes chaotic style and was filled with laugh out loud moments. Definitely an 8/10 show.

---

* There is no exaggeration here. One store had a doorman and an appointment had been made, the other was a tarpaulin covered pitch.

Christmas Shopping

This morning we headed in to Stratford as 30% wanted to gauge my reaction to a couple of ideas she had for my Christmas and Birthday presents. She had given me advance notice that she was considering a tailor made leather coat from a chap who operates from a stall on the market and also that Pragnells; the high end jeweller had slashed 30% from their prices on Tag watches … This was definitely shopping at both ends of the commercial spectrum and ranged from sipping coffee amongst millions of pounds worth of gemstones to chatting with Johnny under his tarpaulin covered pitch surrounded by vendors that range from artisans to costermongers.

I do already have a Tag watch.* I bought it back in the late 1990's after my unexpected exit from the Inland Revenue. An out of court settlement, in response to my claim of constructive dismissal, produced a small windfall and I purchased a Swiss watch rather than just fritter it away. At the time I bought it I had no idea what a fantastic watch I had bought, only that it looked subtly beautiful and was far from common amongst my friends and colleagues. It is only after fifteen years of ownership that I can report that they are incredibly tough time pieces. The entries in this Journal show that I do tend to get involved in some rather grubby jobs from time to time and, for all but the filthiest, my watch hasn't left my wrist. There is not a mark on the sapphire glass and it still keeps perfect time. I love it for both it's reliability and it's looks.

So, why do I want another one? It is a good question but I am not sure that I can give a good answer. Probably because we can afford one and, although they are expensive, I know it will give decades of service unlike most of the time keeping shite that most people wear on their wrists.**

To cut a long story short we wandered out of Pragnells with not one but two new watches. Both were Tag Heuer and both are automatic. Basically the combination of huge price discounts combine with plenty of surplus cash sloshing around in our bank accounts meant that 30% and I will work out the fine details of what is present and what is self indulgence at some point in the near future. The first of these indulgences is a 2012 Carrera Calibre 1887 Chronograph SpaceX. It is a limited edition of 2012 watches that was produced to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of a Swiss watch in space. The second is a Link Automatic and is probably a little more workaday than the SpaceX but is still a delight with it's second glass on the rear showing the self winding mechanism.

The leather coat has yet to be made but I was shown a sample that Johnny had made for his wife. It is based on a Belstaff jacket but will be made in leather and mine will have a few minor modifications beyond those to suit the contours of my frame. I need to give colour and design some thought over the week before we return next Saturday to confirm the order.

---

* It is a 1997 2000 Quartz model
**  It took me more than ten years to get 30% to realise that she, or more accurately I, was spending a lot of money on fashion watches that would break after a year or so of ownership. Last year she finally succumbed to a ladies Tag with a black face and a ring of tiny diamonds embedded around the face. It was her Christmas present and she adores it. On the subject of cost of ownership I bought mine back in 1999 for around six hundred pounds. After fifteen years of ownership it has cost me about one pound a week!

Setting the bar high

At the mid point in the afternoon the 'phone rang and it was Dave from Redditch Shotblasing. My frame and tinware was ready for collection. As soon as work allowed I headed over to to their workshop and used the strategically placed pallet to avoid stepping in the enormous puddle that blocked their doorway.*

There in the gloomy, gritty, monotone interior of the workshop was my frame and cardboard box of tinware all beautifully wrapped in bubble-wrap and tissue paper to protect it from damage. Dave carried  it all out to the car and unwrapped a couple of items for me to inspect the colour in daylight … I was absolutely flabbergasted. The colour was a splendid green, perhaps a shade or two darker than the background colour of The Journal website, and the finish was beautiful. I thanked him profusely and was even more delighted when I discovered that the price I had been quoted included VAT.

I headed home and realised that the quality of the powder coating had set the bar high and I now needed to ensure that everything else was completed to a similar standard … reusing nasty fasteners was always a repugnant idea to me and now even more so.

As is traditional, I proposed storing the refurbished parts in the spare bedroom and, to be scrupulously fair to 30%, she did little more than give me a look in response to this suggestion. When I pointed out that the frame did have bare steel areas that needed protecting from rust until the bearings were reinserted, she even went as far as to suggest where in the bedroom I should place it … she is amazingly tolerant of me and my eccentricities.

So that was my exciting news for today … I am trying to avoid thinking about moving the new tumble drier down the stairs to the cellar

---

* It was a rainy day today

I need a roll of bubble-wrap

There have been faint signs of progress with the Enfield project over the past couple of days. Yesterday I received an automated message from DHL indicating that I had Customs Duties* to pay on a package in their delivery system. I accessed their on-line systems to find that the rear hub is still in New Delhi but should be delivered early next week. I need the front hub before I can get the wheels rebuilt so a chaser was sent to another Indian spare parts supplier to check on progress.

I also had a call from Redditch Shot-blasting this morning. The frame and tinware should be powder coated this afternoon so all being well I will be able to collect them at some point on Friday. I must admit that I am quite excited to see the results and am hopeful that I have made the right choice of colour.

Realistically it is going to be a while before I am able to start the reassembly of the bike. The engine still needs to be degreased, then there is the refurbishment of the engine plates and the polishing of the engine cases to complete before I can join frame and engine back together. In the meantime I think I need to purchase a large roll of bubble-wrap to protect these newly coated parts form accidental damage.

I also managed to pick up a couple of pieces of work and will be helping out my frolleague Lou on a monstrous project she is managing.

---

* Even after taking account of Customs Duty payments the rear hub is still less than half of the price a UK Parts Company is quoting.

Bonfire Night and other memories

Work is still quiet and as a consequence I actually made it out for a walk around the Three Miler with T&M this afternoon. I also made it out to the garage and the Enfield gearbox is somewhat cleaner than yesterday's photograph.

As the evening progressed we ended up with with T&M cowering on the sofa as the Bonfire Night celebrations kicked off in the village. It is fair to say that Tyson is incredibly stressed by the explosions and just sits and pants until it eventually quietens. She normally dawdles in the garden when I let her out for her late night pee but this evening she was out, squatting and back in under two minutes. She really doesn't like fireworks and Marauder isn't much better. Whiffler didn't seem too alarmed but 30% reported that a couple of overhead detonations caused him to become agitated.

I remember as a child loving the weeks leading up to Bonfire Night. We still lived at Corbiere; the Bungalow at Lower Field Farm in Wickhamford. Although my Dad no longer farmed there we used to scavenge amongst the farm buildings* from September onwards and build the most enormous bonfires on a patch of ground to the side of the stables.

I recall particularly one year when the Bonfire was so large that there were safety concerns. Fortunately out neighbour was Fred Bates who had a garage at the top of Abbey Road in Evesham. This was during the height of the Northern Ireland conflict and Fred had a contract to build small fire appliances based on Land Rover chassis for use in Belfast. We actually had one of these in attendance … just in case. The fire didn't get out of control but I can remember unearthing glowing embers in the remnants of the fire a full seven days after Bonfire Night.

We also had a mountain of fireworks to let off although they were nothing like the amazing ones that can be bought nowadays. It was a more innocent time and the shop at the top of Pitchers Hill** was far more lax with restrictions on the sale of fireworks to minors. I recall wandering up a couple of times each week with a couple of shillings scrounged from my mum or dad and taking an age to choose the most spectacular fireworks from the display before hurrying home to store them in a tin for the Big Night.

Autumn was always a delightful time of year and Bonfire Night was part of the lead up to the excitement of Christmas. To this day I still delight in fireworks and bonfires it is just that having T&M means that this is a pleasure I must forego … and am more than happy to do so.

---

* When BMS and his Father dissolved their partnership the farm was sold and taken on by an Irish Guy called Rowntree who ploughed up all of the pasture and converted the farm from diary to arable. No-one knew where he lived and the arable nature of the farm meant that there was never anyone there apart from during the key phases of the arable cycle; ploughing, sowing and harvesting.

For most of the year it was our personal realm. We had one hundred acres of land and deserted farm buildings to roam over. We drove old cars and motorbikes across the stubble in Autumn and built the most extravagant dens in the straw filled barns. We wandered the deserted building with air rifles, always hopeful of shooting a rat and on one wonderful occasion I encountered a stoat in ermine white in the old dairy. I will always remember it sitting bolt upright watching me whilst I stood immobile taking in this tiny little predator.

Out in the fields a brook ran along one of the farm boundaries. It was edged with Willows that had long ago been pollarded and one in particular had a magnificent bowl at the top of it's trunk that could hold half a dozen children and young teenagers. I remember being there with my sisters and other friends in a hot Summer; enjoying the shade from the trees and the cool waters of Badsey Brook on our toes.

On the other side of the farm was an almost impenetrable coppice called The Spinney. Again I remember adventures here including the time Chris Bates and I managed to work our way through the middle of this bramble filled thicket. I also recall another occasion when I came face to face with a Tawny Owl when tree climbing there.

** The Village Shop and Post Office; owned and operated by Margaret Winkett.*** There was another shop in the Village run by the Woodcocks but, for some reason my mother would never shop there. It was only in later years that I learnt that my Dad had an affair with Anne Woodcock hence her understandable refusal to cross the threshold. I have a rather vague recollection of an encounter between my mother and Mrs W when she interrupted an assignation … I must jot that down when my day is so tedious that I have nothing else to mention.

*** I also have a few memories of Margaret's plump, blonde daughter; Lynne but I'm not sure that they are suitable for inclusion in the Journal.

From shitty to shiny

This evening T&M were heaved in to the back of the car and taken for a follow up appointment at the Vet's. After a five minute examination I was informed that their ear infections are much improved and my wallet was relieved of a crisp ten pound note.

That's about the most significant event of my day … Work was incredibly quiet and the Enfield project is somewhat hampered by the need to get the engine outside for degreasing.*  I was mildly frustrated by the current hiatus, where I can do little more than source or price parts, so I headed out to the garage to amuse myself before dinner.

My plan was to clean the filth from the more exposed parts of the wiring loom but I soon tired of this and realised that my primary objective had to be to get the engine cleaned up. I can't put it back in to the frame filthy so cleaning followed by  polishing of the engine cases needs to be my priority. I therefore settled with a can of degreaser and a rag and made a start on removing the crud from the back of the gearbox. This may be a somewhat surgical attack rather than the wholesale assault it really needs but it keeps me occupied and the more I remove in the week, the less there is to scrub off at the weekend.

I did say it was nasty … rear of gear box part way through degreasing

It does have potential … polishing test on gearbox casing

As can be seen from the photographs, the engine cases are badly oxidised but tests, with a Dremel and a metal polishing kit, show that they have the potential to be restored to a lovely sheen.

---

* Definitely a job for a dry weekend rather than a dark, damp Autumn evening.

What am I going to do now?

It was the first day back at work after a week away.

I must admit that I didn't have any great sense of urgency this morning as I had already been made aware that we had not been down-selected by our latest client. Consequently I sidled up to the laptop shortly before nine o'clock* and refreshed my mailbox. Less than two hundred mails flowed in and I soon had these whittled down to a handful after the junk and irrelevant had been deleted. Had we been successful things would have been very different but, by mid morning, I was kicking my heels.

My afternoon's agenda had already been populated with a couple of calls so I used the free time in the morning to wander in to the kitchen and knock up a Bolognese sauce for dinner. Just as I had finished I head a knock at the door … It was Les; an acquaintance from the Village with whom I have a common interest in motorcycles. He had learnt about my latest project, when I bumped in to him a couple of weeks ago, and had called round to check out the contents of my garage. We spent a pleasant hour chatting and firing up my bikes before he left and I returned to my desk.

So that covers my working day. Obviously I need to find myself some new projects, as the dissection of the corpse of our recent venture is not going to keep me busy … and I have a strong suspicion that the failings I identified are likely to be rapidly swept under the carpet anyway.

The evening saw me head back out to the garage to cover the bikes and attempt to clean up the Enfield's headlight before joining TP and 30% for dinner.

---

* Just in case some sneaky Bugger had decided to arrange a nine o'clock call on my first day back at work.

Weekend Round Up --- or not, as becomes apparent

I finished my week's holiday with a rather lazy weekend. My significant activities seemed to either involve dog walking or pottering in the garage and it is pottering that is the subject of this entry.

The Enfield is now at a transitional stage. The deconstruction has now been completed and, with parts being refurbished and a pile of shiny new components sat waiting on the work bench,  it is reaching the point where reassembly will soon commence, This next stage will, no doubt, include ongoing refurbishment and replacement of components as parts are found to be filthy or damaged beyond the point of economical repair.*

As this project has progressed I have attempted to compile a list of parts that will be needed and jobs that need doing. One of those jobs is the rebuilding of the wheels. At the moment the Enfield has 19" wheels front and rear but the new bike will have a 21" wheel up front and an 18" at the rear. I have the new rims and spokes and the plan was to employ a local chap to build the new wheels on the original hubs.

This is a perfectly normal approach but seemed to involve a huge amount of faffing around. The wheel builder would need to take possession of the intact wheels to take crucial measurements such as any offset of the hubs. These measurements would need to be recorded before the wheels were dismantled. I would then need to collect the hubs, remove the bearings and then ship them over to a Powder Coater to refurbish the bubbling mess that passes for paintwork. Only once the hubs had been refurbished would I be able to take them back to the wheel builder for incorporation in to my shiny new rims.

I started to tot up estimates for the refurbishment of the hubs along with replacements for components corroded or worn beyond acceptable use and wondered whether a new pair of hubs might be a more sensible approach. A few minutes on eBay located exactly what I needed. Both are located in India and will take a few weeks to arrive here but the price is remarkable and I will end up with brand new wheels … and none of the to-ing and fro-ing to the wheel builder and powder coater.

I appreciate that there is an element of risk buying components from Indian Suppliers via eBay but the damned bikes are made there, have minimal variation between models and all I am really doing is cutting out the significant mark up that the best known UK Spare Parts Supplier seems to be applying.

---

* I am well aware that the Enfield is beyond economical repair but it wasn't bought with motivations for financial gain. It was about having something that is almost the antithesis of my working life … an oily, mechanical Yin to the sterile, electronic Yang of modern working life.

Cracking on with things

This morning I had been nominated to drop TP and Peanut off at Redditch Station as they were spending the weekend with his mother.

As is usual they needed to be encouraged from their pit and nagged repeatedly to ensure they actually made it to the station in time for their bloody train … if my son were any more laid back I swear he would be fucking horizontal. As someone who is habitually early, his last minute approach to life drives me up the wall and is a regular source of friction between us. Today I swore that I would be intentionally late when I pick him up on Sunday to see how the little sod likes being kept waiting!

To kill time whilst waiting for TP, I headed out to the garage and inventoried the parts that needed to be powder coated. I ended up with sixteen items that ranged from the frame and swing arm through tin ware to small items of bracketry.

After delivering TP to the station I headed home where I loaded up the boot with the motorcycle components and then made a second trip in to Redditch to drop them off at Redditch Shotblasting. This company had been recommended by the dealer from whom I had bought the bike and I was reassured that I had made the right choice when, after a cursory glance at the contents of the car, the proprietor recognised it as  Royal Enfield frame. We talked* through my requirements and my confidence grew further when I learnt that they had done powder coating for the National Motorcycle Museum exhibits and would be having a display stand at tomorrow's open day. The only decision left was the colour and I eventually settled on a glossy green that had something of a 1950's army surplus feel to it.

All I need to do now is wait the week or ten days it will take to complete the job.

After lunch I pottered a little while longer in the garage and knocked up a couple of engine stands for the upcoming degrease/decontamination. 30% and I then took the dogs out for a walk around a shortened version of the Three Miler. The afternoon also included a visit from our Structural Engineer and we discussed and agreed the approach we will be taking for our remodelled steps and retaining wall project.

We then made our second trip of the week to the Vet's.** On this occasion we went to have Marauder's eye checked. She has a minor tear on her third eyelid, probably as a result of playing with Whiffler, and was prescribed antibiotic eye drops as a precautionary measure.

As the day waned middle-aged lethargy kicked in and we settled for a quiet evening in. However we were more vigilant than usual this evening as Whiffler is suffering some quite nasty after effects from drinking puddle water.

---

* It almost got creepy when I mentioned where I lived and he reeled off my current and previous vehicles … He is a Defender fan and his girlfriend lives in the same village as us … he walks her dog past The Pile most mornings.
** The first was on Monday as both T&M have a minor ear infection.

Friends for Dinner

There is not a huge amount to say about Thursday. I woke early and crept in to the kitchen to make coffee, aware that I had three comatose teenagers crashed on the sofas in the living room. I was tempted to wake them but my benevolent side conquered and I left them to their alcohol induced  slumber until a much more civilised nine o'clock.

At the mid point of the morning I ran TP's mates home and spent the remainder of the morning doing very little indeed. After lunch I headed out to the garage and spent an hour or so removing the final two lugs from the Enfield frame. Once I had finished 30% and I donned our boots and headed off for a walk with Tyson, Marauder and Whiffler.

This evening we were joined by Jules and Annette for dinner and that's just about sums up the day.

Mid Week Dining

The activity I had planned for this morning was something I had never done before and I was somewhat apprehensive …

… I planned to take an angle grinder to a perfectly serviceable motorcycle frame and start cutting chunks of metal from it. Obviously a cut in the wrong place would leave me with, at best, a missing mounting point for a component or, at worst, a knackered frame.

Needless to say I started simple by removing a pair of lugs for an obsolete side panel. I cut well above the frame tubing, to minimise the risk of damage, and then used grinding and  flap wheel disks to remove the remaining lug and weld material. After an hour of work I stood back to review progress and was fairly happy with the way things were going. The surface would look great once powder coated and the frame would not be littered with redundant brackets that provide a multitude of rust traps.

After my first hour I took a break and accompanied 30% on a wander around Tesco's aisles. There is not much one can say about a supermarket visit really but I will make one observation about 30%'s shopping habits  … in my mind, most people walk around the supermarket in an orderly fashion; up one aisle, around the end and down the next, continuing in this fashion until they reach the last aisle and then head for the cash registers. 30%, on the other hand, does not. She is all over the place; leaping forward a couple of aisles, then dropping back three to collect something from her list. This makes it a nightmare to keep track of her when she says "can you just go and get some olives". It takes me a couple of minutes to grab the aforementioned olives and then another twenty to locate my randomly wandering partner. I swear I will electronically tag her the next time we go shopping.

Lunch followed and I then headed out to the garage for another couple of hours of minor frame modification. The weather was grey and drizzly so there was no three mile walk today but we did take all three dogs for a run around the local green where they had a great time charging up and down the bank and around the pools.

As the afternoon flowed in to the evening we tidied ourselves up and headed out to the Oak at Upton Snodsbury for dinner. TP was entertaining a couple of mates with pizza, beer and movies so we had decided to leave them to it and dine alone for what seemed like the first time in ages.* The food was glorious and I can heartily recommend the grilled halloumi stack followed by the sea bass as a winning combination … I probably should have left it there and not had the Belgian waffles for pudding. I wandered out absolutely stuffed as the portions are generous as well as beautifully cooked.

---

* We eventually recalled that it was a Lobster Evening at the same venue back in July.