A member of the blogging community recently cast aspersions on my 'tradie' wear.
Well, the joke's on that joker because today it came in useful.
Don The Builder came around to install scaffolding to finish off the cladding at the front of the house. This is like a big Meccano set particularly when bits are missing and some Heath Robinson alterations and improvisations are necessary.
I was the apprentice again and fetched and carried, lifted and banged and generally worked to instructions albeit obtuse ones. I've learnt that responses like 'beudy' and 'onya' is all that's needed in this building game.
Here's what an hour and a half installation looks like.
Don had to go back home for some more pipes, clamps and thingamajigs to raise it to roof level.
Finished. I was able to get up and. with a broom, clear out the guttering at the top left corner of the roof - something I've never been able to reach before. Some little bastards of birds - sparrows - keep trying to build a nest there. No doubt Mrs Sparrow eggs on poor old Mr Sparrow by saying - "We need a nice view Harold." I should get Robert the sparrow killer up here to get rid of them. He could get his wife to make mince out of the carcasses.
Beudy!
* Not Little Flo who features in this lovely poem: DEAR LITTLE FLO - DUDLEY MOORE
4 comments:
You are indeed a real man TC. Go out now and buy a big jeep thingy.
Yes, a big jeep thingy is what I'll need when I visit you and Shelley at her brother's place next Friday, by the sound of it. You also recommended gumboots, parking on the side of a major highway rather than try to negotiate the driveway and to bring my own port-a-loo.
Testa di cazzo!
I think you're more concerned with getting into Heaven than how you sincerely treat people. Hey, but don't worry, it's a Catholic thing. Remember Brother Benedict.
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