Tuesday, 27 May 2008

Pump It Up

Listening to: The Complete Stone Roses
Drought update: A little rain forecast for tomorrow

The curse of the cock's egg seems to have passed, but not before giving us a last metaphorical custard pie or two in the face.

The pump finally arrived on Saturday afternoon and our good friend Mr D gave up a good chunk of his Sunday to guide me through the fitting of it. It was a straightforward job up to a point, that point being the one where we flipped the switch and all the sockets in the house stopped working.

Mr D is, fortunately, a patient soul so we unplugged everything, restored the trip switch to the favoured position and plugged all appliances back in. It seemed to work. In the last three days I have had five baths. I smell really nice.

I had also decided that it was time to move the trailer next to Eric and Ernie's paddock in the hope they will get used to it in time for their final journey in a few days time.

I backed the Land Rover up, attached the trailer and set off - or tried to. There was a scraping sound. The wheels weren't going round. Sure enough, the brakes had seized. Totally my fault for leaving it there in all weathers for the best part of three months. Should've jacked it up and left it on blocks with the brake off. Ho hum.

My stepson Pat has done a couple of years studying to be a motor mechanic (three terms mechanics, two terms welding, one term sharp intakes of breath, tutting and saying 'I can't touch it until Tuesday week'). He explained what had happened in extreme technical detail. He might as well have been speaking Bulgarian, so I asked 'what are we going to do'.

'Take the wheel off and fix it'. Great. I made the token effort of handing him a spanner or two, while Mr D offered more useful suggestions - for example 'don't lie under there, it might fall off the jack onto you' (a piece of sound advice, I thought).

Shortly afterwards the trailer was fixed and I was in the kitchen mixing Yorkshire Pudding batter. The cock's egg was still sitting in the salt pig (a kind of ceramic jar). I suggested we go to Noup Head and throw the thing into the sea.

"You don't believe all that bad luck crap do you," said Mrs Sort-of Pig Farmer, who tends to come over all no-nonsense and Wolverhampton when the subjects of superstition, religion and Russell Grant come up. Tip: never ask her what her star sign is, the answer will take a lot longer than you expect.

She's right. It'd probably land on a fishing boat below, get jammed in the engine and sink it with all hands.

I'll stick to keeping my fingers crossed.

12 comments:

Daphne said...

When I read this kind of thing my life sounds very cushy. I'm with Mrs Sort-of Pig Farmer on all that astrology nonsense (although I'm a typical home-loving Cancerian).

Betty said...

Doesn't everybody come over all no-nonsense and Wolverhampton when the subject of Russell Grant crops up?

Arabella said...

I think I know 'coming over all Wolverhampton'. It's a bit like 'coming over all Wordsley' but scarier.

You can take the brakes out of stuff? Cool!

I'm already wondering what music will playing at your house when you wave E&E goodbye.

The Birdwatcher said...

Taking things out is easy. I once removed a MG engine. I was dead proud of myself. Getting it back in proved more difficult and I never did work out why I was left with several serious looking bits when eventually we (I had to get help) got it back in and going. Luckily I sold it.

So the lads are off soon are they? Tough times ahead.

By the way have you heard from Reg? He seems to have gone awol.

mig bardsley said...

In our house, if one mechanical or electrical thing breaks down, most of the others join in. I believe it's a virus.
I hope Eric and Ernie didn't notice the trailer was giving trouble - you wouldn't want them feeling anxious about their transport!

Ginni Dee said...

Keeping a cock's egg in a salt pig seems the proper thing to do to me. After all, throwing salt over your left shoulder is done to keep the devil at bay when you spill salt. Salt has magical properties, you know. In fact, salt may even turn that luck from bad to good!

You're so thoughtful to park the trailer next to the boys. It will make it easier on all of you.

How are those babies doing? Now that your luck has changed, how about a few pictures?

ziggi said...

you have to bury it at midnight when the cusp of murcury is moving through the dawning of the age of aquarius then walk round a dutch elm 3 times backwards not forgetting to light the black flame candle - piece of p*ss really, then all will be well.

If you don't do this EGGSACTLY, I wouldn't like to imagine what could happen to you next, but you do know that Dave is nearly homeless do you???

fiwa said...

Isn't it handy to have a mechanic in the family?

I'm sorry to hear that spring is almost over for the lads.

Dave said...

I'm told dogs like a nice egg, so why don't you post it to Murph?

Donn said...

My Word!
It's common knowledge that to undo the spell of the Cock's Egg you must carry it in a purse made of Unicorn Spleen as you ride the Sacred Ostrich through the flaming hoop on Equinox day.

((honestly))

dinahmow said...

Russell Grant???Is he STILL around? Better heed Ziggi and Donn than RG.

I think Reg is busy with real work.

Malc said...

Daphne

Agreeing with Sal - very wise.

Betty

He is an odious little creep, isn't he?

Arabella

But not as terrifying as 'coming over all Tipton'. We'll play something jolly to try to pretend it's not as serious as it is.

BW

Reg is currently taking time off to lead an expedition to rescue Ranulph Feinnes from Everest.

Mig

Eric and Ernie don't notice anything that has nothing to do with food.

Ginni

Interesting theory! It's not working - as you'll find out later.

Ziggi

The nearest Dutch Elm is about 300 miles away.

I'm not sure Dave would like it here full-time - no cricket team.

Fiwa

It certainly is, now all we need is a plumber, electrician, lawyer, doctor and - let's be honest - a farmer.

Dave

Not sure what state it would be in by the time it got to Norfolk.

Donn

Equinox Day. I'll put it in my diary. I've ordered a unicorn spleen, but they can't promise delivery before a week next Wednesday for our postcode.

Dina

Russell Grant isn't on TV so much these days - mercifully. Funny how you almost never meet any of these camp types in real life.