An old recluse is intimidated by an intelligent wee lassie

Having been wary of visitors to our humble home ever since we moved in here 10 years ago I was more than terrified when it was intimated nearly a year ago that we were to be invaded by a visitor from England.

All my procrastinating and humming and hawing were really stupid. It turned out that our 24-hour houseguest was one of the most charming and knowledgable, non-family, person to have entered this house ever. In fact it

Caroline Stocks

was a privilege that after all the twittering and blog reading to finally meet, as the Mrs said, “,,a lovely, lovely, lovely girl,,!” Thank you Caroline for brightening our doorstep, you are fabulous!

Recovery

At about 1pm I dropped a hot kettle and the scalding water did some damage to my left hand.

6 hours later

 

The following morning

 

Four days later

three weeks later

An egg’s journey to your fridge

Let us start with the egg factory. The birds inside are just machines that have a life expectancy of up to two years, many die before they reach that age. Typical egg factories house 20,000-30,000 birds in each shed, two or more sheds are usually the minimum. Employee numbers are normally less than a handful, some working morning shift some the afternoon. I am discussing contract egg farmers not small family concerns that sometimes sell direct to the public or to local shops etc. the conditions the birds survive in are practically the same.

An egg can be laid at any time of the day or night. Most commercial birds will lay an egg every 22-24 hours producing roughly 300 eggs per year.

Collection is carried out first thing in the morning, when the day workers arrive, say 6-7am and last thing at night, before the afternoon workers leave, say between 4-5pm. This is a seven day a week enterprise so many shortcuts are introduced to make the whole concern economically viable. Shortcuts may mean that Saturday and Sunday collections only happen once therefore the eggs may lay where they have rolled for over twenty-four hours.

The eggs are then put in a large fridge until the contractor’s truck arrives to take a ‘load’ away. A load is defined as sufficient to constitute an economical return. Maybe every two days or so depending on how many can be stored in the fridge and how much room is available on the truck.

The truck transports the egg trolleys to the contract company’s warehouse where they may be stored for a few days before they are checked for cracks, sorted and classified by size etc. They then go back into the warehouse coolroom for a few more days awaiting collection from (or delivery to) a wholesale buyer

The wholesale buyer’s truck transports the now packed eggs in boxes to their depot coolroom with a first in/first out policy (I hope). The boxes may sit in the fridge for any number of days until an order comes in from a store wishing to replenish their stock.

The same scenario is apparent at the store; the boxes of eggs are kept in the stores coolroom until shelf room is available. They then sit on these shelves until a gullible customer arrives looking for fresh eggs

Whatever

On Friday morning (Aus time) I tweeted the following:

“TFtD – Does nobody want to take responsibility for their OWN actions must they all rely on gov and other useless entities to control lives? “

I was surprised, later, that it had taken because as soon as I hit the ‘Update’ key my PC froze solid. I had to switch the power off and on at the wall to get the machine running again.

Anyway I had been online too long so decided to get ready and take the Mrs to the shops to restock the pantry and fridge. Morning ablutions completed we headed out the door. Got in the car and switched on – nothing! Slight glow on the battery indicator was all that happened. Ok, got the charger out, connected it then went back inside and called NRMA (road assistance) and called my mechanics to let them know that I think I need a new battery. NRMA said they would have someone out within 90 minutes. He arrived in less than 20 

When he had backed down the drive and was getting out I said I’d give the engine a turn to see if it would fire up. It did! He looked under the bonnet while the engine was still running and said that I maybe need to clean the terminals and replace the battery. Yep, ok, I had already worked that out. So as he gets back in his van I’m thinking “Hmm, strange smell? Ah well maybe the gas/diesel fumes from his vehicle”.

I disconnect the charger, roll up the cables and return them to the workshop. On the way out I notice some fumes coming from the tail pipe. Now that’s odd because there isn’t usually that much this length of time after the engine has started. But wait there is more smoke coming from under the engine. I open the bonnet and see a small amount of smoke around the front near the alternator and below the power pump. Hmm maybe I had spilt some transmission oil on the alternator when I had filled the pump a couple of days ago, should burn off in a few seconds. I open the drivers door and put my foot on the accelerator and pump it a couple or three times. More smoke from under the bonnet. There are flames coming from the plug end of the alternator so I phew, phew a couple of times to try and blow them out. Into the laundry and put some water into the watering can. Back to the car but decide not to pour water on an electrical fault – silly me! Phew, phew, phew again! The flames go out! The smoke begins to decrease.

Back up the stairs. “Hello, is that the NRMA? Can you send a tow-truck to take my car to the mechanic?”

Call the mechanic. “Mate, just had a fire in the alternator! I’ve call NRMA and they are sending a tow-truck!”

“Ok!” he said, “Just leave the keys in the car.”

“I’ll be coming down wi him!”

“No need for that.”

“We need milk and tobacco!”

“Urg, your diet!”

I smile down the phone to him!

The tow-truck arrives and off we go.

Straight into the workshop and remove the alternator. The mechanic removes the end of the piece and says, “Some short that!” It was just another bit of burnt plastic! Whatever. Ask if I want a new one or a second hand? Whatever.

He gets on the phone asking around to see if there is one available. Monday the earliest, $250 to $450! Whatever.

“Come on!” he says, “I’ll drive you home.”

“Gotta stop for milk!” say I.

“Whatever.” Said he

We get the milk, a few other necessities and the tobacco. He gets a coffee while waiting for me. He then drops me off at the house and tells me to call at 4pm to see how they are progressing.

I get on the net and chook around for a while reading this that and the next thing, then zzzzzzzzzzzzz in my chair.

I awaken at 4:10pm borrow the Mrs mobile and call. “Just putting it together.” Says his partner

By 6pm I know it isn’t ready and will call again on Saturday morning.

Later I write the blog about my headache remedy then go to bed.

Saturday morning I call the mechanic. “Seems like more than the alternator is blown. Can’t get a cheep out of it so it might be the computer!” Monday is looking a sure bet! Oh well a nice isolated weekend, just the two of us. No transport and the nearest shop over a mile away, all uphill. Shank’s pony! Whatever!

Can’t get an internet connection! It’s different from all the past fortnight’s problems where I could connect but only got 314 bytes back then it would hang. This time I can’t get the receiving end to accept my userid and password. This situation lasted until Sunday morning!

Worst thing is because the car isn’t on the drive the goats don’t think we are here and aren’t waiting around for their breakfast. They move out en masse before I can get down and feed them. At least they came home yesterday afternoon for their pre-dusk meal. Hope they do today.

Mrs on the phone to the daughter and was telling them the story. Won’t be available to do any garage sale shopping and can’t pick up the grandkids to babysit. “Oh! You will bring them up here! That’s nice of you!”

Mrs and I did some gardening work. Not a lot but enough to say we gave it a go. Still got three weeks of her hols to go, no need to overexert ourselves.

Had my midday nap.

Later while on the way to make a coffee I notice she is watching the gee-gee racing on the tele. “Can’t pick my nose!” she says as she sits knitting and grumbling.

I stand in the doorway looking at them shoving the horses into the starting gates. The ticker tape on the bottom of the screen is showing the names of the horses and their weights. I say, “I think Wanted is the one to watch!” I sit down in a ‘guest’ chair beside her. They show the betting forecast on the screen. “I want 3, 10 and 16-Wanted in my trifecta.” We watch the race. Wanted wins but it has number 13 on the saddlecloth. I still claim the win! I go and sit at the computer and switch my tele on and select the channel with the horse racing and wait through two sets of advert breaks for the trifecta results. $800+ on the NSW Tab! Whoo who it’s easy to pick winners  Whatever!

At least we have the company of two grandkids overnight who spend all morning out and about exploring around the wasteland in the garden around the house. It’s nice having company visit.

She says, “I think I will go and do some more gardening.”

I say, “I might go and have a nap!”

Whoa, just realised I have a headache!

We all get them occasionally so what do you do to relieve the pain? Take a pain-killer or some such drug? No! There is a simpler and easier remedy, one that can be utilised far from the medicine cabinet.

I discovered this method a few years ago and it has worked a treat ever since. The only caveat is that it hasn’t been caused by something you have consumed. The type of headache I am talking about is the one that comes on at any time and has no reason.

What gave me the idea was seeing people with eyestrain rubbing/massaging their temples. I thought, wait a minute what they are basically doing is helping a) the eye muscles to relax and b) easing the blood flow around the eyes. The latter was the catalyst for my thinking. Restricted blood flow could cause swelling in the veins or arteries. The swelling is then impinging on nerve ends causing pain ie headache.

Ok, the following is NOT medical advice it is just a trick I use that helps me! If you want to try it then accept the responsibility. Oh btw, you can pre-empt a headache by following this procedure every now and again. The more you practise the easier it gets.

Start off by spreading the thumb and fingertips of both hands across the skull. Now slowly but firmly sort of slide/spider walk your fingers over your head. Generally you will feel under one of your fingers, somewhere, a heightened sensation of pain. Stop the spider walk and, keeping your fingers steady, feel around with the finger/thumb that found the pain. When you feel the pain increase take your finger off then find the pain again. Now without lifting the finger start pumping slowly on this point ie press/release continuously about 5 or 6 times. Your headache should be relieved. What I believe I am doing is moving the cause of the blockage and allowing the blood to flow more smoothly. If the headache is still apparent try again because there may be more than one headache spot on your skull.

If multiple attempts still don’t work then you might have to resort to a pain-killer or the hair of a dog.

Grass up around me ass!

Just had my car mechanic here to look at my ride-on mower.

For weeks now I have been trying to get the mower started but to no avail. A new spark plug is always the first thing I change. Still wouldn’t start so I took the carburettor off the machine and checked it out – nothing was wrong that I could see but then I am no mechanic.

Went to see the man and asked him what it could be. He said I should have brought the carbie down so he could check it out. I said I would go back home, uncouple it and bring it down next time I pass.

When I went to get it the next day he said that he had cleaned it and checked it out and found nothing wrong.

Back home I reassembled it all and gave the rope a few pulls – not a twitter from the engine. On the phone, “Can somebody come up and have a look at it please?”

The boss said someone might be free on Monday.

I went for my lunchtime siesta and was wakened by the Mrs telling me he had arrived.

I dressed and went down to see him. He was just about to pull the rope when I arrived.

It started first or second pull!

So what was wrong with the damn thing?

Apparently the spark plug was defective. But I had only just bought that one! He said he had put another in because the one I had was only sparking intermittently. But I said, “It’s brand new!”

He said, “We are beginning to see this all the time these days. The plugs are pathetic! Imagine rebuilding a car engine, putting new plugs in and then finding that one of them is misfiring. It’s happening all the time!”

I was completely gobsmacked! What are we, the uninformed, the useless mechanics supposed to do?

The road to Newcastle

I drove into the petrol station the other day and noticed four old guys hovering around the back of their car trying to work out how the bowser worked. It didn’t help them that they had driven in on the wrongs side of the bowsers and had to eventually pull the gas-gun and pipe over the back of their car.

What also caught my eye was that they had identical polo shirts, except two were blue and the other pair bright red, the shirts had similar patches on the left breast. I couldn’t see what was on the patches from where I was but the group intrigued me.

Eventually my tank was full so went to the shop to pay the $52 bill. I took a $2 coin out of my pocket and a $50 note from my wallet as I was entering.

I am a twice-weekly customer and being a talkative idiot the staff in the station knew me. I handed over the money and was distracted by these guys in their identical shirts talking to the other assistant in the shop who noticed me looking at them and came over. He asked if there was another way to Newcastle without going through Windsor and the City. By this time the guy behind the counter had handed me the $2 coin back! I turned to him and said, “No the bowser said $52!” He looked at me quizzically and gave me my receipt. Meanwhile the old guys were talking about the route they should be taking. So with arms swinging and pointing I explained that instead of leaving the service station and turning left towards the City they should go along the road I was pointing to. Which would give them the scenic route they were looking for and take them via the Putty Road, Singleton and then to Newcastle.

Outside I said to them that I had a Gregory (map book) in the car. I showed them the front inside cover showing the area the maps in the book cover and pointing said, “This is where we are and you need to go this way!” I then opened the book to the page where the larger scale map was and pointed to where we were and the direction they had to take to get to the Putty Road.

Meanwhile, while this conversation was going on, the service station attendant had come out and was waving a $50 note at me saying, “You paid too much! As you are my friend I will give it back!” and handed the note to the Mrs in the passenger seat. Quick thought went through the scone saying that there must have been two notes stuck together, ok that’s cool. I thanked the guy!

More confusion with the oldies so I handed them the Gregory 2003 edition, told them it’s an old one and they could keep it so they could follow the maps to the Putty Road and then it would be useless but it would at least get them on their way and in the right direction.

One of the oldies thanked me and said, “Next time you are in Czechoslovakia maybe we can help you.”

Ah, so that was what was on the patches! I didn’t have time to ask about what they were about so left it at that.

Next time I go for petrol I will shake the assistants hand and thank him once again for being so honest.

By the way, he wore a turban and his heritage was the Indian Sub-continent.

Coincidence

All week I have been listening to BBC Radio 4 & 7. On R4 the “Book at Bedtime” has been the Eoin Colfer’s sequel to Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, “and Another Thing…”

I rarely watch TV but occasionally I pass through the sitting room where my wife does her knitting and has the box talking to her. On the screen was a face I recognised (I do this quite often) and said that she was in “Smack the Donkey” and other British comedy shows. But what was her name? My wife is not good with names, or faces come to that and only recognises me if I speak to her in passing! So I sat back down at the computer, checked out the TV guide for tonight, found out that the program was called “Heart and Soul” and that the actress I was looking for was Sarah Alexander. After a Wikipedia search on her name I found out that I was correct and that she had been part of the team in “Smack the Donkey”. I used to catch this show a few times late at night quite a number of years ago. It was an odd show but I enjoyed seeing a basically all-female cast being hilariously funny and it starred the quirky Sally Phillips who I think is fantastic.

Ok, I put all the information into the space between my ears and settled down to listen to more BBC radio programs broadcast on the net over the past 24 hours. After “Gardener’s Question Time” I clicked on the last one I was going to listen to tonight “and Another Thing…”

Usually when a program ends and I have others lined up I click on one of these and it usually interrupts the credits and other announcements at the end. Because this was the last program for the night and I was in the middle of a game of Solitaire, I was a bit late in killing the page to stop the broadcast so I endured the ending credits for “and Another Thing…”. To my utter astonishment I was sure I heard “Read by Stephen Mangan, with Peter Serafinowicz.”

I called up the Radio 4 “Book at Bedtime” page again and then the Wiki page and there it was – Peter Serafinowicz is married to Sarah Alexander!

How odd!

Living with preservatives – Part 1

A few months ago I was chatting and joking with the girls in my favourite shop in the mall. One of the girls was pregnant and didn’t have really much longer to go maybe a month or six weeks.

I brought up the subject of junk food and talking directly to the non-pregnant girl I said, “What happens to the processed food you buy in the supermarkets? It rarely moves off the shelves very fast so it must have preservatives in the recipe to keep it edible! So, if that is all you eat then the preservatives will concentrate in the body and what happens when you are totally loaded with these chemicals? You become a mummy!”

Seriously though when you cook or bake your own food you soon realise that what you have prepared has a lot shorter shelf life than store bought processed food. In fact by the time you have bought a packet of biscuits they have been on the shelf at least a week, never mind the time it has taken since processed at the factory, sent out from the manufacturer’s depot to the supermarket depot and then to the backroom of the supermarket. Try baking the same biscuits without preservatives and see how long they last in your cupboard.

Now which do you think is the healthiest for you and your family?

Yesterday with the girls

The doelings arrive

 

The wind gusted and they all came running into the pen only to find me waiting with my camera. From the left Diamond, Sunshine and Dolores with Daphne trying to look for what spooked them.