yen_powell

I think there was mention of a Kennedy being done. I used to know a lady, the mother of my then girlfriend, who would constantly talk, mostly moaning at me for wasting her daughter's time, moan about her husband, get violent occasionally. She once told me in a quieter moment that she had worked at the Daily Mirror as a young teenager and had some sort of break down and they had carried out an operation on her brain and she hadn't shut up since. Thinking back I always wondered if that's what they did to her.

I think I had a matchbox car with a clip on wing and you used to let it fly off the loopy loopy track track and the thing would glide for quite a way.

I'm glad for the rest of that sentence or I was going to have to google what an orbitoclast was.

Yup, just the pair of us here!

Just things found whilst backing up today.

The River Brain

The link at the bottom of the link above. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2013/02/14/allen-hanburys-surgical-appliances/

I check the site Spitalfields Life out every day, there are some fascinating stories about local people, excellent old photographs, a real weird mix. He occasionally does a few stories about his poxy cat which I am not so keen on. Anyway, today's post was about Matchbox cars, which were made locally to the area I believe. Takes me back to see the catalogue. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/04/09/matchbox-models-by-lesney-company/

Heard this on the television, said by a bloke who drives a three wheeled van, "We'll be in an out quicker than a sour plum."

I might try and get to the Brain tomorrow lunchtime in between estimates.

See also, "A sandwich short of a picnic". "Lost his marbles." "A screw loose." "Away with the fairies."

My dad used to comment on drivers ahead of him who were dawdling or indecisive, "Fer Christ sake, he's driving like a fart in a trance." When a person of the younger generation stops in the street and stands close to my main paving mason and starts a loud mobile phone conversation he turns to one of his labourers and says, "Bradley......Start the saw."

The Blackwater, looking at a map, it joins with the Chelmer just before it pops out at Maldon.Heybridge Basin. There is a river Brain as well and a Pod's Brook.

Already put a picture of this from the same position a few weeks ago, but this I took yesterday and I like it more.

They do motorcycle training as well. When I moved up this way I resigned from my part time instructor's job, telling the owners that I didn't think I would want to ride down on Saturday and Sunday and spend all day on a bike after doing 500 miles of commuting during the week. They said that was silly, they did it, coming in to Hornchurch from Maldon every day. I pointed out that that they got the profits, I got minimum wage. I did drop in on a training school near my new location and they offered me a job, but I couldn't stomach the thought of it any more. I also paid Benson's a visit. Their yard opened out onto an unfenced quay side in Colchester. All new riders would have gone straight into the drink if they forgot to turn right as the left the exit.

I cut back across a recreation ground. Every time I go that way I stop to look at this small tree. It always looks like it has hair to me. Today it was windy so the hair was blowing about like David Coverdale trying to do his sexy look whilst a fan is doing 400mph right into his face.

Trying to go for a walk or a pedal every day if I can, sick of keep having to go up a trouser size every few years. Today was riding into the bitter wind day, can't believe it was summer only last week. I ended up in the town centre where there were some poor people wandering about, saw this out of the corner of my eye. I don't think it was a real frog, but it might have been a real Yamaha.

Can't remember, might have been something going on I wanted to be at. I didn't tell anyone at home I had no job for about 2 weeks, just went out on my bike in the morning and rode around for the day.

He had it back in April last year. He was hallucinating at one point due to a fever, frightened his missus at the time. It is still affecting him he says, gets breathless easily still etc. He owns a wood in Hertfordshire now, a roman road runs down one side of it and he has his own hives there and makes honey. There are two trees in the middle that have grown to embrace each other. The old owner used to let some 'witches' use it once a year for some ceremony and Dave let them carry on, he was worried about being turned into a frog I expect.

Don't know what a BFF is. Strange Dave has had the bad Covid. He's donating his plasma to the NHS now, which just sounds icky to me!

I reckon it was the same thing. It was one step up from the YOP scheme in that I got £39 a week instead of £25. At the end of the year they gave me a permanent job, still on very low wages mind, but a bit more than they paid the labourers. After about 3 years working there (I was about 20) I got called in one Monday morning by the owner, a bloke called Reg Simmonds who always reminded me of Michael Caine, a very nice man. I had forgotten to lock up the petrol saws we used to cut samples of bigger stuff on the Friday and they had been stolen, so I thought I was in for a telling off. But in fact he asked me if I would be interested in taking voluntary redundancy. He was quite upset about it, it was a small firm and he had never made anyone redundant before. I asked if I could leave on Wednesday which took him aback a bit. He said okay, if that was what I wanted I could. As I was leaving I turned and asked why he had asked me? "You looked the unhappiest." he said. When I left I got a small amount of redundancy, plus all my holiday money, plus a £100 from Reg and a £100 from his wife Deirdre. I went back to visit occasionally and the Irish yard foreman kept giving me bank notes, telling me Deirdre had left it for me. Reg sold the firm and did other stuff, especially involving the arts. He did tell me once that when he grew up in the east end of London he wanted to be a writer, but had to go out and earn money to help his family instead. I googled and found a picture of him, see below. He passed away from cancer in about 2012 I heard. The lady with him is his daughter who sometimes worked in the office of the yard during her school holidays, she's a film producer now. Another time I will tell the story of me making my magnesium bomb and him nearly catching me with the thing flaring up like mad and how I covered it up.

I have no areas of expertise except those specified by Pete. I remember the talk about graphene. I might be mixing it up with another wonder material, but weren't they going to coat food in it so it didn't go off, or put it on paintwork so dirt would not stick to it?