Time and Money

This is what I've spent all my time and money doing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBK1pBRsWmM

Richard "measure twice; drive to the house where you left your bench, vice and pillar drill once" B

Name this shape. Lets call him Harold

I've built a car, and I'm glad to say that as of 9:40 this morning, the vehicle inspectorate agree that it is safe, clean and roadworthy.

People keep asking me what I'm going to call it. I'm not much one for naming inanimate objects but I think I'll call it "Molly". It's pretty, tiny and more expensive and inconvenient than I was hoping... And it's a palaver getting in it... And I wouldn't be at all surprised if the headlight alignment deteriorated over time.

Richard "a seven by any other name" B

Wrong Shoes

Time marches inexorably onwards: The martins are back, some of my bees have left their cocoons, Mrs wood pigeon has finished sitting on her nest, I de-winterized and started my late father's motor mower (4th pull motherfucker!), my mother is getting deafer and my friends' bladders are getting weaker.

Nothing however has made me feel as old as a shop assistant questioning whether my favourite shoes are still age appropriate. I know her well enough to speak to (and to buy groceries from) but no better than that. At the weekend she pointed out my Star Wars Vans and asked me if I thought I was still a teenager.

Star Wars was on general release before I was five. Vans shoes became popular during the skate boarding boom of the 70s. If anything I'm too young for the shoes. Bitch!

Richard "over the hill" B

Goal!

There's a common human reflex that seems usually to be counterproductive. When you drop something you sometimes automatically stick your foot out to stop it from hitting the floor. I know someone who involuntarily put his foot under a heavy dropped television and damaged his foot. Not long ago I was washing up and I dropped a china bowl. Without thinking I put my foot out to stop it from breaking on the kitchen floor. My football skills aren't really what they should be, and while my foot did make contact with the bowl what actually happened was that I drop the bowl then swung my leg forwards towards it. I Drop kicked the bowl, full force, into the oven door where it smashed convincingly.

Richard "Patella Hammer" B

Fortress of Solitude

I think I might be getting an idea of what it would be like to be a beautiful woman, in that odd boring men keep coming and talking at me.

Building a kit car should have been a perfect hobby for an OCD misanthrope, it being mainly solitary and concerned with tools, components, following instructions and meeting formal standards. Unfortunately the car is interesting and handsome and generates a lot of interest from the public. People keep inviting themselves into the garage to talk about cars.

Last week I got a ginger stalker. He's sent me notes, visited the car, invited me to go to an automotive lecture, and is now pestering me for my email address. As he's got a car trailer and a towing vehicle he might have to be the most interesting and charming person I've met – until my car is roadworthy.

Richard "Pub bore" B