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Author Topic: Vagueness and the Aftermath - A sporadic diary  (Read 4454953 times)
RED-DOG
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« Reply #255 on: January 31, 2008, 10:10:16 AM »

Uh oh.  Need to borrow some glue?

That's not Uh oh, thats UHU.

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« Reply #256 on: January 31, 2008, 10:12:09 AM »

Blimey, so he wasn't talking about a bit of trouble with Mrs. Red?  The roof REALLY blew off?  I'm very sorry.  Didn't realise it was bad over there.  Hope everyone's ok. 

xx
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« Reply #257 on: January 31, 2008, 10:20:26 AM »

Please tell me that it's not the roof of your brand new trailer-thingy.....
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« Reply #258 on: January 31, 2008, 10:23:35 AM »

Please tell me that it's not the roof of your brand new trailer-thingy.....

No, it's the roof of the old one, We haven't found a new one yet.
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« Reply #259 on: January 31, 2008, 10:24:50 AM »

Please tell me that it's not the roof of your brand new trailer-thingy.....

No, it's the roof of the old one, We haven't found a new one yet.

Yikes..that's not good.

Though it's nice to see your broadband still works.
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« Reply #260 on: January 31, 2008, 10:29:17 AM »

Not too much damage to the contents I hope.
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« Reply #261 on: January 31, 2008, 10:47:26 AM »

I hope you can get things sorted quickly Tom.
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« Reply #262 on: January 31, 2008, 12:08:55 PM »

At around 9am this morning, I staggered out of bed and, eyes still closed, made my way unsteadily towards the sound of spoon on cup.

Mrs Red handed me my tea, and as I took my first sip she said "By the way, the roof's blown off"

Judging by the length of time it took to splutter out, that first sip of tea must have been quite a large one.

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed, as I wiped tea from her face with the inside of my sleeve. Her reply was muffled and indecipherable, so I went outside to look.

The storm was so forceful, that it looked like one of those stage-storms, where the actor stands at an angle of 45 degrees on a mocked-up ship's deck while someone rocks it from side to side. and someone else throws the occasional bucket of water.

I fought against the howling wind and rain until I was far enough away to be able look back and assess the damage. The roof was peeled back like the lid of a sardine tin. Fortunately, it was still attached at one end.

Cat like, I sprang into action.


« Last Edit: January 31, 2008, 12:14:42 PM by RED-DOG » Logged

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« Reply #263 on: January 31, 2008, 12:15:38 PM »

Tom Cat at work.
 Click to see full-size image.
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« Reply #264 on: January 31, 2008, 12:35:27 PM »

...and people complain that people have it hard these days.  Even those on the 'breadline' today have enough to eat in relative 'comfort'.

Agreed - and if they cooked from scratch instead of buying processed foods there would be a lot more money to go around - and it would be healthier.

A lot of people wouldn't know what to do with pearl barley these days - I used to love it in stews. Yummy.

For dinner tonight I'm making Irish Stew with some pearl barley chucked in and parsley dumplings - can't wait Cheesy
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« Reply #265 on: January 31, 2008, 12:38:50 PM »

Jeez - just caught up on the thread and here's me posting silly things about my dinner!

Hope you manage to get it sorted quickly and without too much expense.
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« Reply #266 on: January 31, 2008, 01:42:05 PM »

As luck would have it, the roof of the caravan is a double-skinned affair, and the outer section is a sort of thick flexible rubberised membrane, a bit like the vinyl roof on a car. If I could roll it back and nail it into place, we should be OK.

In case of an emergency like this, I had some roofing nails carefully stored in a large trunk, along with millions of other nails of assorted shapes and sizes. It was the work of a mere 40 minutes or so to get the amount I needed.  Then I grabbed my big ladder and ran out of the shed.

Unfortunately, My big ladder wont fit through the shed door sideways. When it hit the door jamb, it came to a sudden stop. Somersaulting gracefully over it, I continued on my journey, until I too was brought to a halt by the pressure of lawn on my face.

Having managed to climb on to the roof at the still good end, I stood up to survey the damage. This was a mistake. The wind caught my lean frame and blew me over the apex and off the other side. This wasn’t as dangerous as you might think, my roof is only about 8 feet high, and I landed in wet grass. Never the less, at times like these, training takes over. I executed a neat commando roll just like I had learned to do while reading all those SAS books. As I climbed the ladder for the second time, I wished the SAS books had warned me against doing a commando roll with half a pound of roofing nails in my back pocket.

By pushing the roll of peeled back material along with the top of my head and nailing it in place as I went, I eventually managed to get the roof fixed back into place. Midway through the procedure, a particularly strong gust blew the ladder over. As it fell it severed an ornamental outside lamp from the wall like a guillotine, blowing the electric, leaving me stranded, and Mrs Red totally cut off from Dale Winton and Supermarket Sweep..

She ventured outside to replace the ladder and told me that I was doing the work of two men. Unfortunately, according to her, the two men were Laurel and Hardy.

I must remember to get her to suck the poison out of these puncture wounds.
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« Reply #267 on: January 31, 2008, 01:45:49 PM »

As luck would have it, the roof of the caravan is a double-skinned affair, and the outer section is a sort of thick flexible rubberised membrane, a bit like the vinyl roof on a car. If I could roll it back and nail it into place, we should be OK.

In case of an emergency like this, I had some roofing nails carefully stored in a large trunk, along with millions of other nails of assorted shapes and sizes. It was the work of a mere 40 minutes or so to get the amount I needed.  Then I grabbed my big ladder and ran out of the shed.

Unfortunately, My big ladder wont fit through the shed door sideways. When it hit the door jamb, it came to a sudden stop. Somersaulting gracefully over it, I continued on my journey, until I too was brought to a halt by the pressure of lawn on my face.

Having managed to climb on to the roof at the still good end, I stood up to survey the damage. This was a mistake. The wind caught my lean frame and blew me over the apex and off the other side. This wasn’t as dangerous as you might think, my roof is only about 8 feet high, and I landed in wet grass. Never the less, at times like these, training takes over. I executed a neat commando roll just like I had learned to do while reading all those SAS books. As I climbed the ladder for the second time, I wished the SAS books had warned me against doing a commando roll with half a pound of roofing nails in my back pocket.

By pushing the roll of peeled back material along with the top of my head and nailing it in place as I went, I eventually managed to get the roof fixed back into place. Midway through the procedure, a particularly strong gust blew the ladder over. As it fell it severed an ornamental outside lamp from the wall like a guillotine, blowing the electric, leaving me stranded, and Mrs Red totally cut off from Dale Winton and Supermarket Sweep..

She ventured outside to replace the ladder and told me that I was doing the work of two men. Unfortunately, according to her, the two men were Laurel and Hardy.

I must remember to get her to suck the poison out of these puncture wounds.


 
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« Reply #268 on: January 31, 2008, 01:51:46 PM »

Tom, I'm in tears of laughter here. And I don't like to smile, never mind laugh, when I'm grumpy.

But it's embellised tosh, of course. I mean, "lean frame".....?
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« Reply #269 on: January 31, 2008, 01:54:55 PM »

As luck would have it, the roof of the caravan is a double-skinned affair, and the outer section is a sort of thick flexible rubberised membrane, a bit like the vinyl roof on a car. If I could roll it back and nail it into place, we should be OK.

In case of an emergency like this, I had some roofing nails carefully stored in a large trunk, along with millions of other nails of assorted shapes and sizes. It was the work of a mere 40 minutes or so to get the amount I needed.  Then I grabbed my big ladder and ran out of the shed.

Unfortunately, My big ladder wont fit through the shed door sideways. When it hit the door jamb, it came to a sudden stop. Somersaulting gracefully over it, I continued on my journey, until I too was brought to a halt by the pressure of lawn on my face.

Having managed to climb on to the roof at the still good end, I stood up to survey the damage. This was a mistake. The wind caught my lean frame and blew me over the apex and off the other side. This wasn’t as dangerous as you might think, my roof is only about 8 feet high, and I landed in wet grass. Never the less, at times like these, training takes over. I executed a neat commando roll just like I had learned to do while reading all those SAS books. As I climbed the ladder for the second time, I wished the SAS books had warned me against doing a commando roll with half a pound of roofing nails in my back pocket.

By pushing the roll of peeled back material along with the top of my head and nailing it in place as I went, I eventually managed to get the roof fixed back into place. Midway through the procedure, a particularly strong gust blew the ladder over. As it fell it severed an ornamental outside lamp from the wall like a guillotine, blowing the electric, leaving me stranded, and Mrs Red totally cut off from Dale Winton and Supermarket Sweep..

She ventured outside to replace the ladder and told me that I was doing the work of two men. Unfortunately, according to her, the two men were Laurel and Hardy.

I must remember to get her to suck the poison out of these puncture wounds.


That one had my laughing for a good while...exellent reading material.
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