Broithe

I went on a stag do in Tamworth, not far away, but just not a place anybody ever went to - the victim of the wedding came from there and we were staying overnight at his parents, who I had never met before. They were out when we arrived, and not back before we set out on the evening's events. Considerable imbibement later, we set off back to the house. Somehow, I got separated suddenly and found myself utterly lost. I had a vague idea of where I was and what direction the house should be in. I was helped in setting my course by the fact that I could see the lights of the Sutton Coldfield TV mast, so I set off, using that as my guiding star. After a while, finding myself in open countryside and with my way blocked by a sizable river, I came to the revelation that the mast I was navigating by was actually the Hopwas mast, and I had been going about 180 degrees out. By now it was about 4am and I could see the lights of a decent sized town, which I took to be Lichfield - it looked plausible to proceed towards it, and the riverbank was useful for a large part of the journey. Eventually, I found myself in a large town, but it had a castle, which meant it wasn't Lichfield. Investigations of some shopfronts indicated that I was actually back in Tamworth. I decided to look in the phone book in a phone box, which happened to be across from the police station. It was not going to be easy to find a number for the house, as the surname was Clarke and I didn't know his father's first name. By this time, a copper was interrogating me with a view to detaining me for a public order offence - I had to find the right number - now. The marriage victim always used his second name, but I knew what the first one was and guessed that that was also his father's, which it was - and he answered, driving out to pick me up, much to the chagrin of the copper, who had hung around to 'collect' me, if my story turned out to be a con trick. By this stage, it was about 4:30am and this was the first time that I had ever met the father, who was a headmaster - he did seem to think that it was all bit bit of a hoot, though.

Before Beeching, one of my aunts got a train from Bristol, intending to go to Wellington in Somerset, not a huge journey. It seemed to take a good bit longer than she was expecting. But, in the end, she got off at Wellington. In Shropshire.

Or Bachmann Turner Overdrive...? Bruce? And his Range, as well? You're getting them mixed up with Hornsby. Bruce is a one-hit wonder, I'd say that at his concerts he sings the same song over and over again for about two hours. That's just the way it is...... I remember a chap I worked with once describing a task as being "as tedious and futile as being Bruce Hornsby's drummer" - once you're aware of it, it's all you can hear.

Bruce? And his Range, as well?

Well, wagons, really. These interesting examples of cross-over marketing seem to have hit the shelves. https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=pfbid02KNqZk5eZCT1xsXzvEvfurShca8TzDeW9nJYoDcWgD8NTnLxAUmcF7riqxqHsoC7Bl&id=289396587829410

The one time I went, it was like being an extra in a Cecil B DeMille battle scene.

On RTÉ1 at 9:35pm next Monday, December 5th. Might be of some interest,

Facebook comes up with 'five people' called Tara Mines. Some of them might be real, but I can't be held responsible if any of them are a bit dicky.

There is an island bench in the middle of the shed which is just a 'pile of stuff' at the moment. Eventually, it will have this ex-school workbench with a plywood extension behind it. It'll be raised to the same height as the main bench along the back wall and provide a decent open workspace. Thinking about the external insulation possibilities, the side with the window faces square east, and the side with the double doors faces south. There's a good bit of solar input on any half-decent day - the doors, particularly, get quite warm - so, I might just insulate the north and (shaded) west sides. Painting the sunny walls a bit darker has been on the cards anyway, as the glare is a bit trying in the summer. But, the glazing-in of the window/greenhouse space looks very enticing for the future. The north wall is fully blank and the west wall has only the woodburner flue and the gas pipe defacing its smoothness.

Storage/retrieval is a serious issue, that you do have to confront, as best you can. One thing I have been doing is mounting 'occasional' machinery on plywood plates, so they can be clamped (almost) anywhere when needed and stored away when the empty bench-space is more useful. They can then be used around the main shed or in the greenhouses. The plates have an M6 T-nut sunk flush into the bottom of the plate and threaded rod to pull the machine down firmly.

I used to do the odd job for a chap who was deaf and blind, but I learnt to 'speak' to him via this "manual texting" system. The letters were tapped out on his hand and, knowing that I could hear, he would guess where it was going, almost always correctly - the only viable predictive text that I ever encountered. This could be accepted or rejected - one palm-tap for yes or two for no. I knew someone else that could do it and it was possible to 'text' her across a crowded pub, expressing a strong opinion about someone actually in the room, without them having any idea what was being 'said'.

Eye halve a spelling chequer It came with my pea sea It plainly marques four my revue Miss steaks eye kin knot sea. Eye strike a quay and type a word And weight four it two say Weather eye am wrong oar write It shows me strait a weigh. As soon as a mist ache is maid It nose bee fore two long And eye can put the error rite It's rare lea ever wrong. Eye have run this poem threw it I am shore your pleased two no It's letter perfect awl the weigh My chequer tolled me sew.

The mixer is mostly for the birds. They do like to supervise the process. When I was living in the Shed, people sometimes commented on the amount of alcohol in the larder, but nobody ever noticed the bottle of meths in the middle. I did build the cooker in, when the benches were rearranged, to avoid going back up to the house unnecessarily. For the shepherds have become stupid And have not sought the Lord; Therefore they have not prospered, And all their flock is scattered. Jeremiah 10:21 When the truly righteous would have used a proper electrostatic machine. Or, have you led me into discussing religion..?

On the basis that there's no point having it if you can't find it, shelving has been a large part of the recent renovations. Any area of 'dead volume', behind the door, along the eaves, etc, has been filled with shelving, so that stuff can be stored in a visible manner. This is an ongoing project, with the intention, so far unachieved, of keeping the benches clear of tools and materials that aren't actually in use.

Harcourt Street.

That might happen one day, but it hasn't really been an issue - the fire helps and only burns €1 to €1:50 of wood a day. I did use it to 'isolate' for a couple of fortnights during the Plague, to avoid potentially contaminating the house - hence the camp bed and sleeping bag. Another possibility is to 'glaze in' the space between the greenhouse and the window, there's a lot of free heat to be had there. Baking the wood in the greenhouses definitely had a hugely beneficial effect on the efficiency.

Discussions elsewhere might lead to clogging up threads with talk of sheds. We could have examples of the "housing issue" here, to keep things organised and show/examine details of the various possibilities that exist. I'm (slowly) reorganising this one. Cavity blocks and a steel roof, but I did put in an insulated plasterboard ceiling, just before the Plague hit.

The remains remain at Ballybrophy. https://www.google.com/maps/@52.9023258,-7.5977056,88m/data=!3m1!1e3

I've had a few things off Nick Tozer over the years and found him to be reasonable. http://www.railwaybook.com/ I might be worth asking him to keep an eye out, he does seem to get a good bit of Irish stuff.

I did find these rather oversized sleepers at Blist's Hill, near Ironbridge, but I didn't have the means to measure them at the time.

A weathering example. Ideal for the "just bury it in the garden over the winter" technique.

Getting fertiliser through UK customs from Ireland will always result in them paying a bit more attention to the consignment... They're probably in a bucket of wet sand in the middle of a car park, awaiting attention.

I remain amazed that this has happened.