Where They Hung the Jerk Who Invented Work…

26 Mar

There’s been a lot going on since I was last here so much to report – if I can just figure out where best to start.

So let’s begin with a song, by way of a treat. Do have a listen, especially to the words…

Isn’t that something? Make you smile?

This is now the official Hobo tune; The Big Rock Candy Mountains, AKA The Hobo Song. How fitting.

Loving those lyrics and the guitar picking.

In fact we love it so much that it has inspired a theme for Hobo’s long-awaited sign-writing job. Watch this space.

Funny stories are always good and this next one is very recent. It’s one of those too good to be true tales with a sudden and perplexing ending.  And very definitely a short story.

I found myself a little job at the end of February…busy-office-worker-2225634

18 hours a week, to consist of some admin work for a nearby computer firm, plus writing their blog. Earning those much needed pennies, plus expanding on the writing experience – and getting paid for it – as was my aim at the top of the year. Perfect.

I settled into the office routine…images

Learned their ways and kept up to date with tasks as required, and worked on the blog from home. It was a very different sort of blogging to what goes on here, needing to be technical as, naturally, all about computers. Not something I have a great deal of knowledge of, me no sort of geek, so required much research. They liked my work, publishing both of my posts without alteration, pleasing me no end and proving I can do this, do it well and to a deadline.

On the third Friday in the job, I was given a glowing assessment and all seemed well. They were happy and so was I.

Come the following Thursday (last week) they called me at home to say my services were no longer required, not to go in the following day and they’d pay me till the end of the month. No satisfactory explanations were forthcoming, leaving me stunned and deeply puzzled…images (1)

Bizarre.

I hate mysteries that I can’t solve and can only conclude that the colleague who showed me the ropes did not take to me. That, coupled with the fact that when my predecessor recently called in with new baby, it was apparent that she and said colleague were the best of buddies, leading me to believe that maybe she wanted back in. A few unkind/untrue words and I’m toast. Binned. History.

That has to be a record, at just three weeks, beating even my brief career in farming…    Tell you about that sometime.

I’m not beating myself up though. In fact am enjoying life as I prefer it; choosing my getting up time,  setting my own deadlines and spending more time on the water. Suiting myself.

That said, I’m in touch with a restaurant just up the road, with regard to doing some work for them. This should keep the wolf from the door, while I seriously set about promoting my blog writing services.

I have a million and one (979 actually) more pics from John, now home, having accidentally ripped his entire SD card. Quite a bit of sorting/deleting to be done before I can upload them here but I’ll try and pick out some goodies before too long. Promise.

This being the tail end of his trip…100_3075

So, Boatbloke is back! Spent a very pleasant weekend catching up, eating out, walking along the Cam…

And unblocking the drains. Romantic eh?

Hobo has a long-standing – or stagnant – problem with waste draining from the kitchen sink. It has never been good, requires regular plunging but this winter even that wasn’t working. I poked and prodded with all manner of long enough, thin enough and flexible enough  implements, all to no avail and, much against my better judgement, resorted to the drain unblock-er gunk. That didn’t work either and just left me with a sink full of deadly poison, which wouldn’t even seep away slowly, and gave me nightmares about it melting the enamel off the sink.

I even resorted to crossing the river with the binos to see if the skin fitting was bunged up from the outside but couldn’t see a fish/duck/ lump of mud/body or whatever sticking out from the hole.

All down to some poor plumbing (pre-boatbird ownership) as after the U-bend the pipe narrows and actually goes uphill. Never going to work is it?

John to the rescue. We jump into the farm’s little row boat, armed with pokey things, and head for Hobo…100_2042

Curtain wire is the essential tool and, once John got us secure and adjacent to Hobo (he bravely standing in the unstable little boat and hanging on to the hand rail), I set about wiggling the wire. This soon released the blockage, which simply can’t be got at from the inside, and bingo – the sink was drained.

A lovely day for messing about on the river, albeit a bit chilly, and an opportunity to view Hobo from a different angle…100_2045

As we headed back to the slipway…100_2047

Pull!

Good fun and a result. Long term we need to fit a larger skin fitting that will take a bigger diameter pipe that doesn’t have to run uphill. Obvious really.

She’s due a blacking this year so, while she’s out of the water, that is what we’ll do. Even though I hate the thought of holes being drilled in boats.

We also managed to clear up  last year’s deck building debris, now the ground is drying up a little, and then got to grips with all the empty bottles, cans and other detritus. A very unsightly mountain that has nothing to do with BB. Honest.

Only insofar as it has been my onshore view forever. Not good.

John got busy with the secateurs and plans to burn the ever-growing mound of tree cuttings to make way for a bit of a veggie patch. I fancy some spring flowers under the willow hedge, as well as radish, beans, marrow…..  the possibilities are endless.

I have no pics of the before (too ashamed) but will chart the progress and the after here.

Can’t wait.

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