Author: Buck

We’ve had a frantic few days. Well, mainly Wendy has. Obviously the first priority was getting the car MOT-ed before the insurance changed their mind, or we got pulled by the plod. Wendy has decided to own the problem of the car. Up until now she has driven it, I’ve had it serviced, MOT-ed, etc. Not, as it turns out, very successfully. Rather than be in the dark as to the status of her car, she’s decided to do it herself now. Which means she’s had to do everything for the first time, on her own (as I’ve been working) and stressed out of her head.

She took the car for it’s MOT. Because of Covid she wasn’t allowed to wait, as I usually do, so she had to go for a walk for an hour. When she got back, despite me having gone over every tyre for tread depth, every light,the wipers, horn, screen wash, fluffy dice (OK, no fluffy dice) it still failed. They said there was a dangerous bulge on a tyre. I hope that was on the inside, because I didn’t see it. She went home stressed and told me. I said if she took it to the nearest tyre fitting place (Kwikfit) she could get back to the garage for the MOT certificate the same day. They kept her there for an hour and 15 minutes. Still madly stressed. Which meant the garage was shut so she had to get her MOT the next day, still with some minors. A chip in the windscreen, and slightly damaged valves on the on of the back tyres. Rather than mess about we ordered a new set of back tyres to be fitted at home, and we’ve got someone coming around the fix the chip. The tyres were done this afternoon, the windscreen gets fixed on Saturday. That’s it then, the car is MOT perfect. Wendy has noticed the aircon is only blowing cool instead of freezing so she’s booked it in for a re-gas on Thursday. Then it’s a perfect car for a couple of years more. Wendy has bravely adopted the motto “Be scared, do it anyway.” All these new things are destruct testing that resolve.

The doctor upped her pills but, whether due to the pills or the bump and consequent faffing about, she’s feeling more stressed. She said one of the possible side effects of the anti-anxiety pill is increased levels of anxiety. I’m not an actual doctor, but I can see flaws in that medication regime.

I’ve often heard that the only reason women can bear to go through with childbirth a second time is that they sort of forget about the unbearable misery of the first time.

I’m fairly sure the same principle applies to motorcycle mechanic-ing.

The front end on my bike turns in weirdly so I ordered new head bearings from the States. They arrived last week and I rang my local bike garage to get them fitted. He said because of the backlog from lockdown it was going to be the end of May at the earliest.

I went for my jab on Monday. That was a slick affair. In and out. A few people online have had a bad reaction to it. Not as bad as, say, choking out your last breaths on a respirator, but not pleasant. I had an extreme reaction to the malaria jab in the army and that was awful, but this time I was fine. Wendy had a sore arm and a mild plague weakness the next day, which went with painkillers, so nothing to write home about. Lisa was dog tired. I didn’t even get a sore arm. The next day I had a headache all day and felt sick, but I get that quite frequently anyway. So either I didn’t get any reaction or the reaction was no worse than a headache day. I’ll take that.

I was working on Tuesday and I got a run to Bristol. That was a nice day out. I was riding in to work in the morning without any gloves moaning “I may lose digits to frostbite”, in the afternoon I was Darn Sarf, baking in 23C moaning “no human can survive in this heat!”

On Wednesday it was still quite warm, lockdown is lifting, and I was off, so I took my new bike for a spin up to Workington (top of the Lakes on the coast).

That is totally the last time I buy a shed. I’ve spent all week like “WHAT WAS I THINKING?!”

The shed people were so negative about the fitting crew (£285 to fit, if it’s not perfectly level we won’t fit it, if we don’t think there’s adequate access we won’t fit it, if the day has a ‘Y’ in it we won’t fit it) that I decided to have a go at building it myself. I thought if Wendy was just to hold the sides upright I could bolt them in and throw the roof on myself. As it turns out the doctors are messing her about something fierce, she’s had to get up early for three days, ring the surgery at 08.00 (as soon as it opens) and try to get through. They have made a total hash of their system, so rather than let you ring, get put in a queue, then get triaged, they just have an engaged signal so Wendy had to ring back every few seconds, for over an hour, 400+ calls, just to finally get told she can’t have an appointment, try again tomorrow. For 3 days. Still not got an appointment. She was stressed out about ringing anyway, them doing this to her is driving her spare.

Anyway, as pertains to my plan, she couldn’t leave the front room or the ‘phone when the shed arrived. So I had to put it up all by myself. It was an ordeal. Using the clothes prop I managed to get one wall up, then it wasn’t too bad. Until I came to the roof. There is a truss you have to fit in the centre. That wasn’t too bad. But then the roof came in 4 panels. The instructions said to screw in the strengthening beams that made it into two panels, but then there would have been no way I could have lifted it into position. And the truss was only secured at each side of the shed, obviously, so was very susceptible to sideways twisting. I had three panels up at one point, trying to fit the fourth, when the truss twisted and the whole lot caved in. I thought I’d broken my brand new shed.

I got my delivery of a ton bag of sand and a ton bag of gravel on my day off, as I’d booked it. But the gravel bag was burst so they had to redeliver it the next day when I was at work. Luckily Wendy is off to take the delivery, but it meant I had to come home in the evening and wheelbarrow all the gravel around to the garden in the dark. That was less than ideal.

Yesterday and today I was off work so I finished off the shed foundations, just in time for the delivery on Thursday.

It ain’t pretty but it’s fair flat and functional. I’ve booked Thursday off for the delivery. Job’s a good ‘un.