27th January. Fun With Asbestos Fibre

"Aaaach! ah jist canna be fuckin' ersed wi' it the day" opined the older Wegie, surrounded by enough pipework to account for the last 6 months of Zambia's copper output. "An' jist me ma fuckin' sel' !" as evidenced by the absence of the younger plumber. "The next cunt that comes roond askin' wan the b'iler's gonnae be turn'd on ahm gonnae tell them ah'll be workin' slower from noo on! Besides ye cannae turn the b'iler on withoot a fuckin' chimney eh Big Man?" Quite. My main concern now that there are less skulls to hit are: a) ruining another flue section and having to spend another £95 and drive to Glenrothes again, b) falling through the roof (this roof will not support your weight use crawling boards) c) drilling holes in asbestos. Course it's only a couple of holes and you don't know how long you're going to live anyway it can take years for symptoms to show and I'll hold my breath. As for the older Wegie I know he's already had cancer so it's not going to matter too much.

26th January. More Health And Safety.

"Are ye tryin' tae fuckin' kill ME !!!" the shout comes up from the younger plumber 6 metres below in a broad Wegie tone followed by various mutterings about insurance from the older Wegie with knee ligament problems, the electrician remained silent. A 178mm 45 degree bend closely followed by a 500mm straight length of double skinned Selkirk flue had bounced down the makeshift scaffolding. Well i'd been that intent on not dropping the electric drill if it caught when it broke through the steel of the roof truss I'd just nudged the flue pipe and this bit that was stuck out like a sore thumb, waiting for a bracket - came off. I blame Selkirk because the so called locking bands dont exactly lock anything at all. Not only that I just felt so ill anyway, it's maybe just a Common Cold according to the internet because my whole body's not wracked with muscular pain but to be honest its not conducive to balancing on planks with those bloody Wegies below and why do they have to spend so much time round the back of the boiler right in the firing line? Anyway that 500mm length might have missed all three skulls but it made a pretty good impact with the concrete floor and was completely fucked " Aaach gie it a bash oot wi' a hamma! It'll be fine!" No it was frankly well beyond that.`Now I'm faced with an endless drive to the centre of that Godawful town without a centre - Glenrothes to see if I can recall the labyrinthine route into the industrial estate to get a replacement flue section. "The average cold lasts no more than a week" Jeezuz!

6th January. Ice Cold In Aberdeenshire.

Had to crash out in a layby on the way to work this a.m. then received a voicemail "I've just past your van in a lay by near Stonehaven" Well I had to explain it all...yawn.  Anyway Royal Deeside looked more like Royal Switzerland by the time I finally arrived to spend the remainder of the day in a metal shed at roughly -8 and not even a cup of tea, jeez, whilst the snow continued to - well snow. It's probably an Aberdonian thing this lack of tea provision. And the £25,000 wood chip boiler is frozen solid... well I've no sympathy and its not my problem tee hee hee... 

5th January. F.A.A.T.W. Latest.

We refer here to F. double A. T. W. - falling asleep at the wheel! an affliction to which the author is peculiarly affected, to the extent I can be hallucinating that the Daihatsu has turned into a double bed which I'm driving down the Perth dual carriageway - so then it's "ok" to go to sleep. A refusal to go to bed before midnight may play its part but for me there are two types A. and B. The former rises early, refreshed and ready to great the new day clapping their hands together and exclaiming Yes! For them the day promises to be better than yesterday, however this optimism gradually turns to disappointment as the day wears on and then an early night and a mug of cocoa or in some cases Round-Up seems the best option because tomorrow will be better. Type B. tries to ignore the alarm, dawn heralds a wave of pessimism - its gonna be crap but surprisingly things don't turn out that bad and gradually improve, by midnight there's a reluctance to draw a line under things, the day could last for ever if only one wasn't so knackered. Now with regard to FAATW I find that before taking my place in Cinema 1 at the Playhouse I simply must go for a pee even if I've only just emptied my bladder, the same applies before bedding down - just  can't settle, like. Now extending this logic it seems obvious with hindsight that simply not relieving oneself before motorway driving at night could be a cure for FAATW. It works! its not very pleasant but it does work.  

1st January. New Year's Day Awakening.

I don't remember seeing my life flash before me just a sudden awakening as the Daihatsu rocketed over the now hard as iron frozen snow like a ploughed field at the side of the M90... I blame the lasagna, courtesy of Fat Boy who is currently still enjoying the novelty of domesticity in Stockbridge, to be fair his parting words had been "Now don't fall asleep at the wheel!" Course there had been the exertion of the Edinburgh NYD Triathlon, although now in receipt of the results I feel that there had been precious little exertion. Nonetheless the fresh air, the pasta, the cosy confines of the 4 x 4, the darkness, the salted windscreen and the thrum of the tyres had taken their toll. I wouldn't say I was completely asleep just half asleep. The next thing I'm out of control going sideways then backwards at about 50mph then sideways again but by way of contrast, very very awake...