So, it’s actually been a shockingly productive day. I’ve spent the time after this morning’s dismal start (the GP opens at 0800, not 0830, which explains why there were no appointments. Thankfully, today’s not been so hot and my hayfever less soul destroying therefore) doing variously the bike, the car, and the bathroom.
The bike – switching the brake disk for the new one, once I’d got myself the right tool (a T40 star drive, for anyone who cares) was actually incredibly easy. All the screws undid, the disk came off (it was about 3mm thick, the min-think rating on the side says 3.5mm… ooops); and the new disk went on. Despite the dead battery I was actually considering ringing and booking an MOT, but a strange sensation0 came over me. I think we’ll call it ‘common sense’. I checked, and the brake-light switch (which is still waiting for replacement, ‘cos Burwin failed to send one, they said they’ll send one immediately, but then it took them almost a week and a half to send the first order; I may stop ordering from them) has stopped working. I took it apart, but no amount of coaxing could persuade it back into life. So we wait for the new switch to arrive. I have, however, noticed that the alloy’s started to crack up around the bottom – well away from the lever or the cylinder, but it means I’ll look out for a s/h replacement instead of getting it helicoiled, I think. Annoyingly, that’s got all new seals in it, the bloody thing).
So, having checked that the bike still starts (using a spare battery), I moved onto the second task of the day. The car.
Let’s just say the accursed thing makes fun of me. I check voltages, they’re wrong, I go to check them again, they’re right, the car starts. Why! Why for have you forsaken me oh continuous and non-intermittent faults! The oil pressure light, that went out, no problems. Although the VivaOC reckon it’s just blocked with crud – so I’ll hopefully whip that out on Friday and see. But yes, the ignition issue continues to baffle me. I’m tempted to change the solenoid just, well, because. Because I suspect it of being an evil turncoat who’s duplicitous nature allows it to pretend that it works while I’m looking at it, but when I’m not allows it to snunk off to the corner of electrical hell (as provided by Lucas, Prince of Darkness) and…well… not work.
Anyhow, I then removed the passenger seat and alternately went ‘oh god’ and ‘uh, maybe okay…’ and then ‘oh god’ as I stared at the floor. On Saturday the car is going to be attacked by man-with-welder, and I hope we should have less of a rust issue. Actually, apart from the sill (which appears to have been attacked by a monkey with filler (oh god)) and the inner sill just by the rear seats (oh god, rust) and the huge-gaping-hole-in-the-floor (oh dear god, no, and no, I shouldn’t have poked it); it actually looks surprisingly intact. Oh, and the hole where the seat mounting, uh, disintegrated it. Yes.
Anyhow, having decided that my day was complete on the VIva and bike fronts, I moved inside. And upstairs, to the bathroom…
No, that’s the bedroom; I realise it looks increasingly like a store room for a bizzare props department crossed with an open plan toilet, but hey. I just thought I’d share the hell of my house at the moment.
No, this is the bathroom:
Yes, insane, isn’t it? The floor’s got to be down by Saturday, really. Which is a little stress inducing. Although I saw the boards I need, if I go with chip-board, and I plan to, because I’ve checked and apparently they’re fine with Cast Iron baths, and I now know which kind I need for the bathroom. So yay for me :-)
My life is just one excitement after another, eh?
But there was one amazingly positive thing which happened today:
That, I think you’ll find, is the soil pipe. All connected and ready. Granted, it’s sloping the wrong way at the moment, but that’s just because it’s missing some supports. I’ll cut the wood and pop them in tomorrow :-)
Raaa, ra, ra.
(And in non dull news, I spoke to Kathryn on the phone yesterday, which was made of awesome. I love the internet, which allows me to talk to Kathryn despite her being miles and miles away for the not-muchness on the cost front. Ra).