A long time ago, in a brewery…

well, just down the garden, actually.

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Happy Birthday to you…

I realised this evening that last apple season was the tenth anniversary of building my own pack press. And sadly the press didn’t get used this year, as I had access to a hydropress that was much quicker and less work. Still, it will remain tucked away just in case I ever need it again.

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In case you forget…

This is the last instruction in the section of the manual for my Yanmar 1510D that covers replacement of the fuel filter.

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Desperately delayed dandelions

As if we didn’t already know that the climate is a bit messed up right now, I was amazed to see this springtime flower out in August.

But then, when we got as far as December…

I’d be tempted to suggest that there’s precious little chance of getting pollinated at such a late stage, but these days, who knows?

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Another smelling pistake?

From the list of recall items for the Citroën C1…

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Surely they’d be on bicycles?

From the BBC News site.

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Pathetic delivery excuses #15,281

(Most of the first 15,000 are from drivers for Evri. Possibly the same one. 🙁

My wife just had a message that a parcel she was expecting from the South American river place could not be delivered because our drive is a rough track and the driver though it was too icy to get down. They’d therefore left the parcel “in a safe place” at the end of the drive.

Boots on, torch in hand, I wandered down to the end of the drive (about 100 metres). There was no sign of ice anywhere. Well, there wouldn’t be. Temperatures reached 6°C here this afternoon according to the gauge in the dash of the car. And, in fact, it was raining.

Fortunately as it had only been a few minutes since the message was sent I found the parcel in the hedge along the roadside where pretty much anyone passing by could have seen it. Quite how that constitutes “a safe place” I’m not really sure.

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What’s the worst that can happen?

Large bonfire (not mine, I hasten to add). 11kW overhead mains power lines…

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So spelling isn’t important?

Then who wants to risk eating one of these?

Not me. Prehensile tongue, anyone? Or should that be prehensile tongs?

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This sort of thing happens…

… when you have over 100 years of combined tool-collecting in one place.

Honestly, I’m really not sure where they all came from. Some are mine, some are my father-in-law’s, some possibly came from my mother-in-law’s brother and so on. I’ve not even included the lump hammers and sledgehammers. I think it’s probably fair to say though that if I have something that needs hitting, I probably have the tool to do it.

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