Tale about my dad’s best mate...
Mick was a great bloke and would do anything for anyone, worked at Hem Heath Colliery with my dad. When they were away from there our families did loads together, holidays included. During the mid eighties Mick was coming under increasing pressure to move house because his lovely wife and 4 gorgeous daughters were wanting a place with a large kitchen. Mick didn’t want to remortgage as he and my dad worked 7 days a week so they could holiday and enjoy time with their friends and family without scrimping. He hatched a scheme to build an extension on the side of the house and would build it with my dad and a couple of other friends from work.
While Mick didn’t want to cut corners on materials he didn’t want to spend too much, one big expense was the 20ft, 9x9” steel beam required to ensure the project was possible... A suitable beam was located in the compound at work and drink money given to the security guard.
The following night shift, Mick and my dad rounded up some strong lads and they strapped and chained the beam to Mick’s car, as much as possible was inside and the rest simply on the floor, the majority of the strain taken by the rear suspension and the towbar hitch. My dad swears he’s never seen a maxi 1750 sit so low to the floor.
They set off from the colliery and went (this is where Stu and possibly Baggy will enjoy the story, having local knowledge) along Trentham road and turned right by the Dougie Mac Hospice, my dad following to prevent anyone from running into a very slow and low Austin Maxi, he didn’t dare go too close because of the sparks from the girder as it gouged the tarmac.
Having navigated the turn they travelled through lanes and popped out by the Swynnerton and came up the hill to Mick’s road and then along to his house (Mick lived on the road just down from Meir Heath car sales Stu). Once there, the beam was unhooked from a very smelly and tired Maxi and manhandled into Mick’s garden by the men from work who’d traveled up to help, some in my dads car and some in their own.
The extension got built and Mick got to stay where he loved and at a price he liked. He was on pins for weeks though, wondering if he was going to get a knock on his door. After all, the evidence was all the way from Hem Heath to his driveway, that beam did some damage!!!
This story is true, I saw the beam, damage to the street and had many barbecued meals at Mick’s house as he my dad and their friends built a beautiful extension.
Mick christened it the colliery kitchen
He and my dad got up to all sorts but this is my Dad’s favourite, he reminds me every year. He still can’t believe the Maxi made it but Mick wouldn’t be swayed into doing it anything other way!!!
Focus is back charging again. New alternator.
We have a treasure of an auto electrician here. Ten years ago he made brushes for the Punto wiper motor. He keeps asking how it's doing. I keep moaning it will probably fail at midnight when the warranty runs out.
He put brushes in the GS three years ago but the Focus unit was beyond redemption. Only 330k on the thing. I blame them knicker elastic belts.
Mostly he'll tell a story as he is fixing whatever it happens to be on the day. This time we got the story of the car sale.
A deal is done at a garage on the New Line Road and it breaks down the next day on the road to Dublin.
" You should have said" the seller explained. " Sure, you never stir out of the County and didn't I sell you a local car."
An old story but still makes me smile.
Finally got the flu jab – went dahn the doctor's this mornin', for 11:20, cor wot a palaver! First (I'm told, outside) need to go find the flu vac social distancing "marshals", (as opposed to the "any other" marshals), name rank and number, OK very good, right now only stand on these white spots; (the "anything else" queue is blue spots) we get inside, queue again (more white spots), obviously they're doing us in batches cos then it was "right you lot follow me left-right left-right, right you're in here, you're in here, you two follow me, right you in there and you in that one" I imagine it's what being in the army's like (I wouldn't know)
Get the needle then my phone goes off, to tell me it's time to go in (original instructions said can only do 5 minutes before), too late matey it's all done and dusted (I'd set a timer at 11:10)
Then chucked out a "side" door into the street (three large hand written in thick felt tip paper signs on the wall "WAY OUT ->")