It’s been an odd week. I woke up the start of it after an hours sleep in a shite hotel 400 miles from home, but it did get better.
I changed the company colours from brown canvas Snickers work pants and black t shirts to black Snickers work pants and whatever t shirt was clean and it’s gone well so far. “You look less American” was one comment.
I was at Rowardennan on Thursday with a grey loch and a grey sky around me, but it didn’t dampen my enthusisam. I was with a BBC film crew who are making a film for BBC Learning and I did some stuff about the Lochside camping ban. It looks like being a good piece as there’s a lot of diverse contributions, I’ll do something on it once it’s watchable.
Today I was out with the camera as I was visiting a new cutomer in a 250 year old building and I had to record some stuff to work out my plans. Once we left I kept the camera to hand and took some snaps elsewhere. Old buildings have character, neglected buildings have scars and Hamish who I met at breakfast has five legs.
8Omph. It’s what the average is anyway and the cops don’t give a shit. Make it legal and the cops will be forced to spend time enforcing the new average of 90 when they should be beating drug dealers with batons in the back of a van.
I dunno, it seems like a ploy to extract more money from us in fuel duty as we fly towards the next traffic jam to sit in it for longer, all of which will have us pissing tax through the chancellor’s letterbox, while we don’t notice as we think the government are all great guys for letting us do 80. They must think our heads zip up the back.
How much will it cost to change all the signs? On a practical note, it would only work if folk used the lanes as intended, ie moving to the left after overtaking instead of sitting there like a grain of rice circling the drain in the kitchen sink as the driver behind’s knuckles get ever whiter as the grip tightens on the steering wheel in frustration.
It’s quite a revelation to me just how excited I am for tomorrow night’s Doctor Who. I wanted to hate Matt Smith, but he’s taken me by surprise and he manages that old-but-young thing so well which makes him a perfect Doctor. The budget seems to have low this season, lots of minamalism which contasts with the rather more flashy previous seasons since the comeback. The episodes often look like two-parters edited into one which is frustrating as old blokes like me would enjoy the more natural pace with a cliffhanger to keep us awake.
Whatever, I really enjoy the current Who and I hope the BBC don’t screw it up as seems likely with their attitude towards their merchandise cash cow.
On a whim I went into the builder’s merchants round the corner from the garage where we filled this afternoon up to see if they had any folding three-foot rules. They didn’t, but they could get me one. “Aye, but I need a metric one side/imperial on the other version” said I, which raised an eyebrow. A phone call was made by the fella behind the counter and I have a pair on the way, one for me, one for Jimmy. It’ll match my new spirit level which I bought last week, something I’d been putting off, but my old one is definitely reading out these days, it looks like it’s been salvaged from Scapa Flow. You get attached to these things though, the wee things you carry all the time and are worn to your shape.
So, my rule pocket will have a rule in it for the first time in years. Tape measures might be 30 feet long with fancy levers on them, but a folding rule is a classic of practical design. You can measure with it, draw straight lines, stir your cuppa, swat flies, pretend it’s a crocodile and whack apprentices with it. Looking forward to this.