If I have a motorcycle and I replace (or have replaced):
Is she still Claire?
So, I’ve got the next two days ‘off’; in that time I’ve got several things I need to do:
I’ve rung about the moved goalposts / government forms. I’ve prodded into action the machines that need prodding. Christ knows what’d’ve happened if I’d’ve not rung.
I also need to:
Excitement is clearly brewing in the House of Elliott ;-)
So, for EuroPride 2006 I’ll be taking my beloved Moggie; we hope; this year we’re also intending to make it to the far end and not stop 15 minutes in (not anything to do with Rebecca mind). As part of the forward planning for this I’ve been trying to find out whether, in a Parade, my car can be decked out as a Police car.
Rebecca’s blue, and a touch battered, but she’d look Lovely with ‘POLICE’ down the side and a nice flashy flashy blue light on top.
Anyway, so I started by asking the Parade organisers, but there was some difficulty there; no one seemed entirely sure. Technically I’m still driving down the road, with potentially, my car being identifiably a ‘police car’, which is illegal. Never mind that it’s 2006, not 1969 and my car is ‘unlikely’ to really be a police car. Indeed, I’d be seriously concerned if anyone thought it was (mind you people asked if she really was a tow vehicle last year, and whether Hebe really was a driving school car. People concern me). I can understand it actually, the whole not diluting the impact of the word POLICE.
It became apparent that that line of inquiry (I hate ‘that that, incidentally) was not going to yeild results quickly, so taking my heart in my hands I mailed the Metropolitan Police. Not that I’ve got anything against the Police, I’ve worked with loads of officers in my training and they’ve all, to a person, been excellent. I’ve encountered the police also outside of work – with the Racist blokie, and they were also really good then.
But just because I find contact with big things like the Police or the Government kind of intimidating. It’s one of those still feeling like a kid things. And also, my youth is not exactly the best thing in the world. It’s not like I broke any big laws, but I wasn’t the best kid in the universe. And I still feel guilty.
Anyway, having crafted an e-mail I paused for a moment, and thought, and then hit send. And off it went, winging it’s little way all the way to London.
Being as it was kind of a random request it bounced through the Met police a little teeny bit before hitting it’s mark; and a very nice chap mailed me back with information and more questions. And rang (unfortunately right at the time I’d decided to go out swimming); and it looks likely to happen. Of course, if anyone knows a discount supplier of magnetic signs that’d be handy.
But the question is, what’s so scary about all of this? It’s the fact I’ve had to give my car’s details to the police, and my name… I’m not sure why they need this, although it might be to keep track of cars they’ve given permission to. But that was like “oh god, what have I got myself into?”
Still. I’m looking forward to it. I need a blue flashing beacon if this is to work too. And a police costume uniform. Anyway, generally it’s *yay*. But it’s still a bit scary…
Here: Horfield 2006 (and one of the centre of brizzy at the moment).
I’m dead pleased with the new camera – the light was very wintery today – very white and bright, no warmth to it. Very clean. Anyway, I took the camera and myself down to the Horfield Regeneration Project and spent a couple of hours freezing myself to death. It’s peaked at 5 degrees C, and considering there was still a good thick layer of ice on the ground – and I didn’t have my gloves on (in aid of being able to work the camera) I got really quite cold.
So anyway, there’s the photos.
I’ve been very good today too; I went to the supermarket and stocked up on veggies again; and fruit; mmyum. And then I got back and despite the fact it was fracking cold I changed the faulty shocker (now at a level of ineffectiveness rivaling most politicians) and put the new drum on – but I think I also need to adjust the handbrake cable.
There was quite a bit of swearing involved – the cutesy bit in the manual about undoing bolts and removing neglected the bit where I ended up cutting through the shock-absorber to split it enough that I could get the damn thing off the shaft. By this time I was *cold*. Not ‘a little bit cold’ but cold to the point where I could touch the cold bits of myself and think my hands were warm.
Shortly after this, after lying on the floor at probably around 3 degree C for about an hour I started to shiver, but handily I’d finished. I even topped up (read: refilled from nearly empty) the diff. As I was laying there, face in the gravel I found something funky though. I’ve got a little fossil – it looks a bit like a chunk of an Ammonite – I thought I’d dropped it back in the chunky gravel but fortunately managed to find it again. It’s not like a big bit, nor is it terribly well preserved, but it’s funky none the less and now adorns the top of my monitor – along with much else in the way of crap.
Anyway, having warmed up (several hours in front of a fan heater, multiple super-huge-mugs cups of tea) I’m now ready to celebrate my housemates birthyday.
As promised, here’s a quick shot of the picture that Rachel painted for me…
I found the wood I wanted to find, I hope I’ve got enough – I think I have – so when it’s dried out fairly thoroughly I’ll start cutting it up to make the frame.
So, I’m back. It turned out that it was (is) leaking from the drainer, the plastic nut which seals the sink to the drainer seems to have developed a leak on one side, but the sink – unlike the last sink is actually supported by the pedestal underneath it; so I’m not 100% sure how to repair it.
At any rate, without taking the pedestal out (which I couldn’t do by myself anyway); I attacked the nut using the screwdriver on the peaks and hit it with a weighty object method. This… well, improved matters. At least, I thought so, until I found that it was now leaking from the opposite side of the nut *rolls eyes*
Still, now we know what it is, so she can call the plumber in who put the sink in to fix it – and he can deal with the pedestal / sink issue. I’ve put a jam-jar underneat the leak, so it should be okay for minimal use anyway. The leak isn’t *terrible*. Not the way my mum was describing it…
Rebecca rolled over 10,000 miles (or 110,000, actually, but the 1 at the beginning is invisible). I have a thing for the big mileage rollovers, and since I do so many miles I actually get to see quite a lot of them, which… well, it makes me happy. There’s something enjoyable about people’s faces when they ask how many miles it’s got on it and you’re able to give a *really big number* in return. I realise that 110,000 miles isn’t a lot for 35 years; but it’s growing quite quickly, and when we reach 200,000 then I’ll be mightily proud!
Independent Online Edition > Transport
Oh good fuck.
Get me the hell out of this country!
[wonders if it’ll cope with her inverted colour scheme numberplates]
So, yesterday I headed over to John’s with my unleaded metro head. We carefully drilled out the blanking from where the heater hose is on a minor – it took quite some time, around 1.5 hours, but we got there. Having done it “properly”, I then decided that for once, the whole job was to be done properly. Because I really need everything to be sorted for when I start my placement.
So, I set to.
Off to the shop to buy the correct waterpump (rather than bodge the one I’d got), the correct thermostat, fresh coolant…
…back to my garage. Lunch.
Half an hour of scraping and cleaning the head, flushing the waterway, getting all the crap off…
Dissassemble the engine… (more…)
I dunno why I’ve been in a pissy mood all evening.
Techincally, today’s been quite successful; I got my new swimming costume (bit tight and higher cut than I meant… oops); and my new unleaded head for Rebecca.
But:
– Missed a bunch of photo ops, because I intended to ‘get them on the way back’ – but…
– GPS replotted route for way back, added 20 miles and sent me up the motorway instead of the A-roads which I’d enjoyed all the way there. This also meant that I… didn’t get to take the photos.
– Missed the last Friday Evening Swim at Bristol North that there’s likely to be in my time here.
– Discovered that the busses to Clifton from here suck dead donkey shit for fun (1 hour to make a 20 minute journey to the centre of Bristol, *then* walk 1/4 mile in the rain, so you can wait for the bus going up into Clifton. Of course there’s no hope that you could get a bus back home *after* going to the pub, oh no.
– Missed the showing of Wallace and Gromit we drove to go and see, parking was *terrible*
– Discovered that the Hollywood Bowl was booked ’til 10. Not going bowling then.
– Found that Frankie and Bennys (sp.) was queue for table.
– Drove to Clifton, to go to Bar Icon and noticed… straight people. Yes, that’s right. Bristol’s utterly crap GLBT scene means that it’s gone back to being ‘Gay Friendly’. Woot. And called Eldon House. *sigh*.
So, even the 3 rounds of pool (lost, 2:1 to Trey, incidentally) haven’t really cheered me up.
So, this weekend we’ve had Onne here to stay (actually he’s still akip in the spare room); for the purpose of attending the Morris Minor Owners Club Website Rally. Basically an excuse for (some of) the message board users to put names to faces, cars to name, and faces to cars. Or something.
Anyway, this year it was over at Stondon Transport Museum, and so, with Onne in tow (he’s flown over here, now that’s dedication); Me and Rebecca took John and Onne up to the Rally. The only slight problem being that it was 160 miles away.
(more…)
So, I’m trying to drag out not doing anything until I’ve eaten lunch.
This morning I went swimming in my favourite pool. But before leaping, clad only in a thin layer of nylon, into the chlorinated water I was interviewed by BBC Radio Bristol on Morning West. You can hear the whole show, at the moment, in hideous real player format. You’d have to be pretty damn enthusiastic to do that though.
Basically, with Doug Reid, the organiser of the Save Bristol North Pool campaign, and Ms B we tried to explain why the pool is worth saying in about 3 minutes. I’m trying to see if I can extract a copy of the interview but first I actually have to download it. Hurrah for evil applications that do a good impression of RealPlayer. (more…)
