Category Archives: Heather

Thursday 27th September 2012 – TODAY WAS A DAY …

… of finding things.

We started off, quite dramatically, by finding the missing mobile phone.

The good news is that the SIM card might actually still work.

The bad news is that the phone won’t, which is hardly surprising seeing as it’s been outside in the rain for the last 6 weeks and I found it in a puddle right where a load of water would regularly drop on it.

What’s surprising about this is that it was just outside the barn door, right where I walk at least twice every day without fail, and how I haven’t seen it before today is a total mystery.

Even more surprising is that if I heard it “bleep” 5 weeks ago up here in the attic – which I’m sure that I did – then there’s nothing wrong with my hearing, I’ll say.

Back in 2006 my dear departed friend Liz gave me an old Nokia ‘phone. It never worked properly and despite buying a couple of new batteries, the battery life worked out to be about 18 hours on stand-by.

For that reason I never really used it, and went to all kinds of lengths to replace it.

However I did lose count of the number of times it’s been pressed into service in an emergency and as I found it in Caliburn the other day when I was a-hunting the dictaphone, it’s now currently back in service.

At least until the new phone arrives.

I wanted an unblocked Samsung (so I just have one set of leads) tri-band (to use in North America) with bluetooth (for the hands-free kit in Caliburn), camera (so I don’t have to keep carrying the Nikon on odd little trips out) and memory slot (so I can use it as a walkman).

But I quickly abandoned that idea. The prices are unbelievable.

In the end I settled for another Nokia – a factory-refurbished 6230 for just £22 seeing as there are no chargers with it – and I have all of that anyway.

So in the mood for finding things, I then found the missing timer switch off the tabletop washing machine – just as I was fitting the machine with a plug with a built-in switch, of course.

The plug off there I fitted on the chop-saw that I bought ages ago and that works a treat too.

I also uncovered three battery chargers – two of them being the 7-Day Shop ones that I use for charging up AA and AAA batteries. And not just the chargers either – a further mega-search turned up some power cables for them.

So they are now fitted with North American 110-volt plugs – I use them for my 12-volt DC domestic circuit because they can handle high amperage and they are sufficiently different not to be confused with 230 volt stuff – and they are ready for action.

The third battery charger that I found is also for AA and AAA batteries, and why this is so interesting is that it has screw-holes on the back so that you can fix it to the wall.

This is quite an ancient machine too and I was pleased to see because I have a cunning plan for it. It was that I intended to screw it into the back of Caliburn and wire it into the ignition system so that there will always be some batteries on charge there.

No power cable, though.

But seeing as I was in the mood I turned out the barn and actually managed to find it, which astonished me.

While I had the ignition system dismantled, I took the opportunity of dismantling the power lead for the coolbox that I installed in Caliburn. I threw away the cigarette lighter plug (I hate those) and wired that directly into the ignition circuit.

And so we’ll have cold drinks wherever we go too.

I also unearthed a pile of connectors that I’d been looking for for ages, and a few other exciting bits and pieces as well. And I did a few other things, but I can’t rightly remember now what they were.

But I shan’t know myself at this rate, will I?

On the subject of finding things, by the way, I know that this might not be relevant but Heather came round this afternoon.

She has just come back from the UK and had brought me my order of porridge oats as well as some Rich Tea biscuits for Rosemary.

It’s the first time that Heather has been round, so she had to call at the doctor’s on the way for the Yellow Fever and Plague vaccinations before she arrived.

But at least I can now make some more muesli.

Tuesday 26th January 2010 – I’ve been on the piste today …

… for the first time since 1996 too. We (that is, five of us) went to Super Besse for the day. However it wasn’t as exciting as you might imagine, the reason being that despite the weatherman telling us that it was going to be the best day of the year so far, we had the typical Auvergnat hanging cloud on the mountain. This meant that firstly you could hardly see your hand in front of your face (so don’t expect any photos) and secondly all of the high runs were closed off and so everyone was concentrated on just two or three runs.

And I mean everyone too. There were several coach parties of schoolkids, a party of Asian students, loads of business-type folk in matching ski suits and so on. And of course you might expect that I made myself persona non grata with some folk. As Terry reached the bottom of one of the runs a party of schoolchildren stretched out across his path. And Terry, much to my surprise, shuddered to a halt.
You missed out there Terry” I yelled. “You would have got 100 points for that lot, you know!”
What?” asked a British person standing in the queue next to me (there were quite a few Brits there today)
You know” I replied. “10-pin bowling. They line up the kids in formation across the piste and the inexperienced skiers see how many kids they can get. A whole ski class counts for 100 points!”
The monitor of the ski class clearly understood more English than she was letting on to, and she gave me a glance that would have curdled milk at half a mile and made a derogatory comment. Mind you, I know a few of those myself, as she discovered.

What was surprising was that after one or two runs up the baby slope I remembered all my technique. And even more surprising was that I could still fit into my Makro Man ski suit, which I discarded for use as a winter overall back in 1994 when I bought my “Bulgaria ski school” ski suit (which is with my skis and boots back in Brussels and which I will be rescuing).

But at 16:00 it was impossible to continue. It was freezing cold and you couldn’t see who you were ploughing into. But it’s whetted my appetite and rekindled my desire for skiing after all this time.

Banff here I come!

The drive back to Liz and Terry’s was difficult, and the drive back to here was worse. I had to hack lumps of ice off Caliburn’s windscreen and then inch my way home as the freezing rain that had fallen had transformed the roads into a skating rink.

But at least I got home, which is more than someone did. There’s a dark green Peugeot saloon on its side in the ditch near Gouttieres.