I know that Britain is now a third world country and we have no money to spend on Transport, Law and Order, Education, Medicine viaducts or fine wines, or any of the other things the Romans introduced us to, but I didn't realise things were quite so bad as they seem in the NHS.
Daughter child has picked up a verruca at school, so we went to the doctors expecting him to burn it with acid or freeze it, both treatments being equally painful and something she was not looking forward to. Instead the doctor recommended that we cover up the warty appendage with duct tape. I explained that we had elastoplast in the house, and he needn't worry about the cost of a prescription, but no, he insisted we use Duct tape. Duct tape. Often referred to by a well known brand name of Duck Tape, this has many many uses. It is the tool of the Jedi handyman, having a dark side, a light side and being a force which holds the universe together. But I had never thought of it before as a cosmetic coverall. Covering up the verruca and hoping it would go away just didn't seem like a modern approach to medicine. I thought for a moment the doctor was taking the mickey. Then I thought maybe he was maybe a witch doctor practising traditional remedies, but no he was definitely white European and probably English, although he was clearly talking gibberish.
As it turns out the old treatments of burning and/or freezing only had something like a 40% success rate whilst 80% of verrucas and indeed many other viral warts can be cured simply by covering them with duct tape. It seals them off and starves them of oxygen that they need to survive. It sounds uncomfortable, but girl child reports that it is actually quite cosy and she doesn't notice it after a while. Which is just as well, as the tape has to stay on 24/7 for the next couple of weeks at least. Elastoplast or other types of dressing just don't cut it, it has to be Duct Tape.
So there you go, another use for duct tape. And a good excuse for having it in the boot of the car when plod stops you and thinks you are on your way to kidnap someone - Honestly officer, I've got a verruca.
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
No crocodiles were harmed during this walk.
I have a tradition, which is every year on the last Wednesday before Christmas I walk from my home along a disused railway track about 6 miles each way to the town of Patrington, to see their Christmas lights, which are far superior to the ones that go up in our village. I did it last year and I've done it again this year. I didn't say it was a very old tradition, but they all have to start somewhere. Some might argue that two occasions is simply a co-incidence, but as I plan to did it again next year I maintain it is a tradition.
I know it was a Wednesday last year because Patrington is one of those quaint little towns that still has some shops observing half day closing. This probably made sense back in the year dot, because the market took place on Wednesdays and took all the trade from the shops anyway. Now however it makes no sense at all, particularly if you forget and have walked six miles without any lunch. Finding a shop open eventually I realized I had left my wallet at home.
The walk was pleasant enough though, with some lovely clarty mulch to trod through, and with pheasants, deer, rabbits, a squirrel and countless birds to be seen going about their business.
The purpose of this stroll though, apart from seeing pretty lights, was to test by walking boots for hillworthiness after the Three Peaks tried to kill them in the Autumn. My original boots, which if I recall had their epitaph published on this very blog, were leather, old fashioned and as tough as - well old boots. I bought them when I was 19 and gave them a viking burial after many miles when I was 42. Well used and only disposed of due to the leather splitting in a place that couldn't be easily repaired. The boots that Whernside tried to kill were the replacement modern lightweight gortex and suede jobbies my wife bought me for Christmas two years ago. Basically I think the peaty muddy bog water and the endless rain must have combined to eat the glue holding the soles on. Moorland is acid soil, so there might well be some science to support that theory. Walking boots that are not suitable for use on moors? Well, I suppose when I bought my sons mountain bike it did say in the instruction manual that it was not suitable for off road use - a mountain bike unsuitable for mountains.
Any how as ever I digress. The soles were parting from the boots and they were letting in water as the side seam began to give. I thought I would have to condemn them with barely 200 miles on the clock. But then I had a thought. My workboots had a similar problem from new, and I had, after trial and error found the perfect glue to fix them. Now I don't normally endorse products by name, but I have to say that this stuff is so good I will name it, because you'll never have heard of it and probably won't find it in the shops, as I have only ever seen it for sale in our local builders merchants, and nowhere else. Gator Glue. Why it's called Gator Glue I don't know. I have checked the ingredients, and so far as I can tell it contains no alligators whatsoever. Nor does it attract or repel them so far as I can tell. Well I suppose it might be repelling them as I wouldn't know, I would only know if it failed to repel them. The point being that alligators, and reptiles in general do not usually cause me problems on the walks I do. The bottle has a stylised cartoon of an alligator on it, and says that it "grips like a gator." I expected this to be an American product, but the label proudly boasts it to be made in Great Britain. Great Britain note, not the United Kingdom.
Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be bitten by a gator and I would agree that once in it's jaws you would have little chance of getting out again. But grip? With those poorly developed little legs I doubt it has much grip anywhere other than it's jaws, and that's a bite not a grip. And whilst it has many sharp teeth and a nasty nip, the grip isn't that good, it has to thrash about and wear you down, and beat you into submission against the rocks in the shallows or drag you in to drown you before it finishes you off. I think there's a been a missed opportunity here. The symbol of Britishness always used to be a bulldog. There indeed is a beast with grip. Once a bulldog has you in it's mouth in can actually lock it's jaw and will not let go no matter what. As a name for a strong glue Bulldog is right up there. I can only assume the name was already taken.
Anyway, I can report that not only has the expanding foam like Gator glue restored cohesion twixt sole and shoe but it has also rendered them leak free once more. After a 12 mile road test the are once again fit for purpose and will hopefully last another season.
I can't help wondering though, if it would work on Crocs?
I know it was a Wednesday last year because Patrington is one of those quaint little towns that still has some shops observing half day closing. This probably made sense back in the year dot, because the market took place on Wednesdays and took all the trade from the shops anyway. Now however it makes no sense at all, particularly if you forget and have walked six miles without any lunch. Finding a shop open eventually I realized I had left my wallet at home.
The walk was pleasant enough though, with some lovely clarty mulch to trod through, and with pheasants, deer, rabbits, a squirrel and countless birds to be seen going about their business.
The purpose of this stroll though, apart from seeing pretty lights, was to test by walking boots for hillworthiness after the Three Peaks tried to kill them in the Autumn. My original boots, which if I recall had their epitaph published on this very blog, were leather, old fashioned and as tough as - well old boots. I bought them when I was 19 and gave them a viking burial after many miles when I was 42. Well used and only disposed of due to the leather splitting in a place that couldn't be easily repaired. The boots that Whernside tried to kill were the replacement modern lightweight gortex and suede jobbies my wife bought me for Christmas two years ago. Basically I think the peaty muddy bog water and the endless rain must have combined to eat the glue holding the soles on. Moorland is acid soil, so there might well be some science to support that theory. Walking boots that are not suitable for use on moors? Well, I suppose when I bought my sons mountain bike it did say in the instruction manual that it was not suitable for off road use - a mountain bike unsuitable for mountains.
Any how as ever I digress. The soles were parting from the boots and they were letting in water as the side seam began to give. I thought I would have to condemn them with barely 200 miles on the clock. But then I had a thought. My workboots had a similar problem from new, and I had, after trial and error found the perfect glue to fix them. Now I don't normally endorse products by name, but I have to say that this stuff is so good I will name it, because you'll never have heard of it and probably won't find it in the shops, as I have only ever seen it for sale in our local builders merchants, and nowhere else. Gator Glue. Why it's called Gator Glue I don't know. I have checked the ingredients, and so far as I can tell it contains no alligators whatsoever. Nor does it attract or repel them so far as I can tell. Well I suppose it might be repelling them as I wouldn't know, I would only know if it failed to repel them. The point being that alligators, and reptiles in general do not usually cause me problems on the walks I do. The bottle has a stylised cartoon of an alligator on it, and says that it "grips like a gator." I expected this to be an American product, but the label proudly boasts it to be made in Great Britain. Great Britain note, not the United Kingdom.
Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be bitten by a gator and I would agree that once in it's jaws you would have little chance of getting out again. But grip? With those poorly developed little legs I doubt it has much grip anywhere other than it's jaws, and that's a bite not a grip. And whilst it has many sharp teeth and a nasty nip, the grip isn't that good, it has to thrash about and wear you down, and beat you into submission against the rocks in the shallows or drag you in to drown you before it finishes you off. I think there's a been a missed opportunity here. The symbol of Britishness always used to be a bulldog. There indeed is a beast with grip. Once a bulldog has you in it's mouth in can actually lock it's jaw and will not let go no matter what. As a name for a strong glue Bulldog is right up there. I can only assume the name was already taken.
Anyway, I can report that not only has the expanding foam like Gator glue restored cohesion twixt sole and shoe but it has also rendered them leak free once more. After a 12 mile road test the are once again fit for purpose and will hopefully last another season.
I can't help wondering though, if it would work on Crocs?
Wednesday, 5 December 2012
Toilet humour - not funny.
Around seven years ago I fitted a new bathroom at home. Well strictly that's not true, the room is the same one, it's everything in it that's new. And as it's seven ears old now that's not true either, but it was at the time.
The project was not without it's problems, and if I was to do it again I'd fit the bath differently and move the toilet a little further over to avoid bare legs coming too close to the hot radiator pipes but all in all I was happy with it.
Yesterday however the toilet cistern stopped filling, and investigation showed that the inlet valve had failed. For some reason it wasn't letting water through to refill the tank.
Dismantling the tank to remove the valve meant separating it from the bowl, no mean feat given that seven years in a damp atmosphere had rusted the bolts that hold it together solid. Even the plastic thumbscrews had seized but they soon yielded when challenged with a blowtorch.
A new valve was acquired for £13 and whilst at the plumbers merchant I bought a new set of bolts. I should have got a new seal whilst I was at it, but I knew I had one in stock in my box of plumbing bits, so didn't bother.
Now there's no delicate way of putting this, so if you are squeamish don't read any further. On occasional mornings we would enter the bathroom to find a small puddle of yellow brown water at the foot of the toilet. Having a small boy in the house we had put this down to a certain lack of control - he's always in a hurry and his aim might not be good, particularly at night as he hates the dark, and getting out of bed to use the toilet is a trauma he gets over in short order. It seems however we may have been doing him dis-service. The seal was well past it's best and had been leaking for some time hence the water staining the floor. It picks up it's colour as it drips over the rusty coupling bolts. I might owe a certain young man an apology, and a few weeks pocket money he was fined for his indiscretions.
Anyway, with the valve replaced I put the new old stock seal in place, noting that it was a completely different size and shape to the original, but seemed to fit much better. I put this down to seven years being squashed between pan and cistern, but maybe not. Maybe there is a different size of seal, because after many hours bolting and unbolting the coupling and using plumbers putty I still can't achieve a leak free joint.
The tank is simply not a good fit on the toilet pan. I am beginning to suspect that the two components were made in different factories, possibly in different countries and one in metric whilst the other is in imperial, using the inch as the lowest measure. Having looked at the two parts I would conclude that they were designed by different people, who did not speak to each other during the design process. One of them was possibly blind. The two parts are just not destined to be married together. The pan for example has two stiffening webs in the porcelain which are positioned almost exactly in the right place to prevent a spanner reaching the coupling bolts. The cistern meanwhile is designed so that the coupling bolts are directly under the valve and the siphon. And there are only two bolts to pull the two halves together and achieve a watertight seal - no chance. Four bolts in a square pattern would do it,but not two in line. Basic engineering.
So how to cure it? You can't drill porcelain, so adding a further two bolt holes won't work.
I'll try another size seal tomorrow, but if that doesn't work then a whole new unit might be on the cards.
Because at present I've nothing else to go on.
The project was not without it's problems, and if I was to do it again I'd fit the bath differently and move the toilet a little further over to avoid bare legs coming too close to the hot radiator pipes but all in all I was happy with it.
Yesterday however the toilet cistern stopped filling, and investigation showed that the inlet valve had failed. For some reason it wasn't letting water through to refill the tank.
Dismantling the tank to remove the valve meant separating it from the bowl, no mean feat given that seven years in a damp atmosphere had rusted the bolts that hold it together solid. Even the plastic thumbscrews had seized but they soon yielded when challenged with a blowtorch.
A new valve was acquired for £13 and whilst at the plumbers merchant I bought a new set of bolts. I should have got a new seal whilst I was at it, but I knew I had one in stock in my box of plumbing bits, so didn't bother.
Now there's no delicate way of putting this, so if you are squeamish don't read any further. On occasional mornings we would enter the bathroom to find a small puddle of yellow brown water at the foot of the toilet. Having a small boy in the house we had put this down to a certain lack of control - he's always in a hurry and his aim might not be good, particularly at night as he hates the dark, and getting out of bed to use the toilet is a trauma he gets over in short order. It seems however we may have been doing him dis-service. The seal was well past it's best and had been leaking for some time hence the water staining the floor. It picks up it's colour as it drips over the rusty coupling bolts. I might owe a certain young man an apology, and a few weeks pocket money he was fined for his indiscretions.
Anyway, with the valve replaced I put the new old stock seal in place, noting that it was a completely different size and shape to the original, but seemed to fit much better. I put this down to seven years being squashed between pan and cistern, but maybe not. Maybe there is a different size of seal, because after many hours bolting and unbolting the coupling and using plumbers putty I still can't achieve a leak free joint.
The tank is simply not a good fit on the toilet pan. I am beginning to suspect that the two components were made in different factories, possibly in different countries and one in metric whilst the other is in imperial, using the inch as the lowest measure. Having looked at the two parts I would conclude that they were designed by different people, who did not speak to each other during the design process. One of them was possibly blind. The two parts are just not destined to be married together. The pan for example has two stiffening webs in the porcelain which are positioned almost exactly in the right place to prevent a spanner reaching the coupling bolts. The cistern meanwhile is designed so that the coupling bolts are directly under the valve and the siphon. And there are only two bolts to pull the two halves together and achieve a watertight seal - no chance. Four bolts in a square pattern would do it,but not two in line. Basic engineering.
So how to cure it? You can't drill porcelain, so adding a further two bolt holes won't work.
I'll try another size seal tomorrow, but if that doesn't work then a whole new unit might be on the cards.
Because at present I've nothing else to go on.
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Prescription dashboard
A few years ago we all laughed at the Billy Connelly routine where he related the tale of a neighbour with poor eyesight who they wickedly suggested should buy a prescription windscreen. Well, I have now reached the age where this is not as funny as it once was.
I now need reading glasses.My distance vision is perfect, I can see distant objects, no problem. I mean, the sun is 93 million miles away, and clouds permitting I can see that perfectly. Even my night vision is good, I can see stars even further away than the sun. But give me a copy of the Sun and all I can do is look at the pictures. Sorry, not a good analogy that one is it, all that anybody looks at in the Sun is the pictures. Okay, give me a book and it goes all blurry. I was given a choice - either surgery to lengthen my arms, or reading glasses. I chose the glasses.
Now however I have discovered another issue. I don't need glasses for driving. But then again I do. I can read a number plate at the statutory 20.5 metres, no problem. I can read road signs, no problem. But the dashboard is a ll fuzzy. If I squint for long enough I can read it, but by then I have driven into a bus. So, I know that it is a forty limit, but have no idea how fast I am going. This would not be a problem if I only drove one car all the time, as I would know where 40 was on the dial, even if it is fuzzy. But I don't. I can sometimes drive 7 or 8 different vehicles a day, all of which have different dashboard layouts, and some have km instead or as well as mph. Some even have digital dashes, which make no sense even when I can read them. I have worked out that green dashboard lights are simply information, whilst amber are warnings and red are serious warnings, but without my specs a red amorphous blob means nothing. I might have left the handbrake on, or the engine could be on fire. Which is it? No idea.
With my glasses on, the dash board becomes clear and the road ahead and signs are easily readable, but I find myself leaving about a mile and a half between me and the next car and panicking if someone comes between us because, crikey, that was a close call.
The solution is to wear my reading specs on the end of my nose so the dash board is clear but everything else can be seen over the top of the specs. It's either that, or a prescription dashboard.
I now need reading glasses.My distance vision is perfect, I can see distant objects, no problem. I mean, the sun is 93 million miles away, and clouds permitting I can see that perfectly. Even my night vision is good, I can see stars even further away than the sun. But give me a copy of the Sun and all I can do is look at the pictures. Sorry, not a good analogy that one is it, all that anybody looks at in the Sun is the pictures. Okay, give me a book and it goes all blurry. I was given a choice - either surgery to lengthen my arms, or reading glasses. I chose the glasses.
Now however I have discovered another issue. I don't need glasses for driving. But then again I do. I can read a number plate at the statutory 20.5 metres, no problem. I can read road signs, no problem. But the dashboard is a ll fuzzy. If I squint for long enough I can read it, but by then I have driven into a bus. So, I know that it is a forty limit, but have no idea how fast I am going. This would not be a problem if I only drove one car all the time, as I would know where 40 was on the dial, even if it is fuzzy. But I don't. I can sometimes drive 7 or 8 different vehicles a day, all of which have different dashboard layouts, and some have km instead or as well as mph. Some even have digital dashes, which make no sense even when I can read them. I have worked out that green dashboard lights are simply information, whilst amber are warnings and red are serious warnings, but without my specs a red amorphous blob means nothing. I might have left the handbrake on, or the engine could be on fire. Which is it? No idea.
With my glasses on, the dash board becomes clear and the road ahead and signs are easily readable, but I find myself leaving about a mile and a half between me and the next car and panicking if someone comes between us because, crikey, that was a close call.
The solution is to wear my reading specs on the end of my nose so the dash board is clear but everything else can be seen over the top of the specs. It's either that, or a prescription dashboard.