A Highly Embarrassing Goof - Eddie's First Aid Course

I am having a short break from Painting and Decorating stories so we step into my time machine and travel 15-20 years into the future.  I had just joined a private ambulance company as an ACA/driver which did very nicely for me as a run up to my retirement.  Before any of us can be let loose with patients in any way whatsoever the basic requirement is a four day intensive First Aid course, and that is for starters, even to allow us to undertake  routine patient transport. After that we progress to more in house courses like the First Responder Course and if anyone wants to progress in the A and E area the training is very intensive, culminating with a Paramedic qualification.  I was a 'oldie' and there was no point in me having aspirations which were unrealistic, considering I was nearing retirement, so I struck with First Aid and First Responder courses plus any relevant in house course the company considered necessary.  I attended a four day residential Drive 1 course in Cornwall which qualified me to drive any ambulance up to police driving standards, but not using Blue Flashing Lights and Sirens for A and E work. That required additional training as a Drive 2 Emergency Driver for Accidents and Emergency driving.  I remember teasing someone who had just passed her Drive 2 and said that she would do in an emergency if they couldn't find anyone else!  She loved it and laughed her head off.

Anyway back to the story.  The venue for the four day First Aid course was ex house and our trainer was a lovely lady called Dianne.  She was a very efficient trainer and fortunately she had an extremely good sense of humour.  I loved studying First Aid.  We paired up as twos and took it in turns to practice resuscitation to an unconscious but breathing patient and then rolling them over into the recovery position.  My partner was Pam, who had started work on the same day I did.  For obvious reasons we could not use live partners for an unconscious and non-breathing patient.  Instead we used manikins and practiced CPR, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, where the requirement was to get them on their backs, apply two breaths into their mouth and then 30 quick compressions to help pump oxygenated blood round their bodies and notably to the brain, and keep doing this until emergcy services arrive. Several of my friends have saved people doing this which is marvellous. There is a lot of residual oxygen in the lungs of an unconcious non breathing patient, in fact 16%, as opposed to 20% in normal air and freshly breathed into the lungs, so it is possible to keep oxygenated blood circling for a while.  However the success rate of a full recovery is just 6% unfortunately.  One chap on the training course forgot he had to use a manikin and started to practice on his lady partner, whom he did not even know before that day.  This caused a high degree of amusement and uproar.

Here is a manikin just like the ones we used:

This guy is applying 30 firm chest compressions

During the second day, Dianne was dealing with eye injuries and the requirement to apply an antiseptic solution to wash any harmful grit or similar intrusions away from the affected eye. We were asked if we could suggest appropriate solutions which may be available in a First Aid situation. Various suggestions were made, all of which were entirely acceptable and then I put up my hand and was invited to offer my idea.  I said, jokingly, "This morning you said, 'Never knock urine, it is a powerful and effective anti-septic' , so why not urine?".  The whole class, including Dianne, went into hysterics with Dianne acting, "Excuse me patient, do you mind if I pee into your eye?".


Next day we progressed to shock and why it is necessary for a shocked patient to always lie down.  Shock simply is lack of oxygen to the brain, which normally takes 30% of all oxygen in our bodies.  This explains why invariably we feel sick when in shock. The stomach hates not having an adequate blood supply and if that falls short it's contents are rapidly expelled in vomit.  And vomitting is so dangerous for any breathing unconsious person and there is a vital reason why they have to be put in a recovery position. There is a real possibility if they are left on their backs they may vomit and this may be inhaled. Vomit is very acidic and corrosive and would certaining dissolve lung tissue and causae death - even in small quantities.  By placing patients on their side all vomit can drain out of their mouths. During shock a lot of blood is diverted to the greedy brain.  Nature's way of dealing with this is to fall down and lie down and that is the correct First Aid procedure.  To assist further more blood is diverted to the brain if the feet are elevated. Gosh! haven't I remembered it all well? Hope you are interested!

Anyway with all that on board the following afternoon we were taught about head injuries and if the patient is in shock as well, then it is more difficult to stop bleeding from the head injury - it's a swings and rounabouts situation. The solution is to raise the head slightly and rest it on the First Aider's knees whilst squatting. This was ably demonstrated by Dianne and a lady pretend patient.

And then Eddie drops an unbelievable unintentional clanger. In front of the entire class, with a girl as the patient lying on the floor with her head on Dianne's folded legs in a sitting position and supporting her head these immortal words gushed from Eddie's mouth:


"It's surprising what difference an extra 6 inches makes!"


Oh! to find a big hole to fall into.  The whole place errupted into a sea of laughter! The patient's shoulders immediately started to shake as she laughed. Dianne roared uncontrollably.  All the men were splitting their sides and the ladies shrieked. OMG how embarrassing!!  I even thought I saw a manikin have a little giggle. The whole class was ruined for at least five minutes and Dianne was not able to resume her teaching without breaking into laughter yet again.  Eventually she said she was going to include this in her future classes as an aid to make it more interesting.  I quickly requested royalty payments which caused another universal laugh.

Anyway we all passed our course and three years later when I was required to renew my First Aid qualification I attended a refresher course, not run by Dianne, but I saw her and we had a good laugh about the event which caused such hilarity three years previous.

I am reminded that my certificate is about to expire but I do not think I shall renew it because my ambulance days are well and truly over.  Oh! Happy memories! LOL

Eddie Inspires A Neighbour To Paint His House . . . . But He Catches His Roof Alight!

This Painting and Decorating experience occurred during my first 'stint' at self employment in the 1980s, not long after my first job redundancy.

But first, thank you for your kind comments concerning The Sunday Roast - I suspect many more read my post than commented, which is a shame I think because I would welcome any feedback.  I am very busy right now with an extensive revamp of my study, following a lot of other decorating and garden projects. Mrs Bluelights has an extremely long whip and an even longer 'do-list'.  When sanity returns I intend writing to those kind volunteers who wish to help with the project and I shall write each of you soon. Also I will write to all 'roastees' currently in the oven and wondering when they will be 'cooked' or whether they will end up as burnt offerings..  Hopefully I can do this soon when all the on-going domestic projects are complete.

Now back to the Painting and Decorating project.  I really enjoyed doing this one.  I placed a small advertisement in our local paper and was invited to provide a quotation for painting this huge house - in dire need of extensive repairs and a face lift.  The owner was a 'big wheel' in the electricity industry and to cut the story short a couple of weeks later I arrived at the site with my trusty ladder and equipment.  Boy what a job it turned out to be!!  Just look at that horrible load of rhubarb I had to deal with.  I had already said that the gables should not be reached with a ladder because they were of plaster construction and there are tales of ladders going straight through the plaster and depositing unwitting painters into the attic. What a shock they must have had.

The owner, in his wisdom, obviously took what I said on board and thought he would be helpful.  He arranged to have a scaffolding tower erected so I could reach the gables.  Unfortunately, the window bay projected much too far and consequently the top platform was out of reach of the house.  Plus, there was a very steep slope from the house into the road and the whole thing looked decidedly 'dodgy' - I did not wish to dive into the road accompanied by a scaffolding tower so I had to order some traditional scaffolding, which arrived the next day.  As you can see there are two gables and I christened them Great Gable and Green Gable, after two mountains I have climbed in the Lake District.  The woodwork and plasterwork required a lot of attention. It was hot for the three weeks I was there and it was at the height of the wasp season.  Whole squadrons continually buzzed me all day long when I was high up on the scaffolding.  More that one colony was flying in and out of the tile spaces to what must be at least two nests in the roof space.  The plaster was pitted with little round holes and when I enquired of the owner what these might be he replied that his son regularly shot pigeons with his air rifle.  His son was a long distance lorry driver and was due to return home in a few days.  Here is another photo after I had repaired some woodwork and applied some primer to Great Gable. I had sealed the tiles with cement as well so the little blighters could not get in or out of the roof - eventually they 'buzzed off'.

The house was very interesting.  Inside the area of the smaller gable was a beautiful music room with a fabulous stereo system and a huge grand piano which I was fortunate to play a few times.  The owner liked Scott Joplin and I still have the tapes he let me copy and I was inspired to buy  three Scott Joplin Ragtime music books.  I still have a go at them sometimes today - all great fun. 

Anyway, back to the story after that short digression.  I was minding my own business, concentrating on my work and as happy as a sand boy when I looked up and saw some thick black smoke emanating from a house a hundred yards or so up the road.  Then I heard the familiar sound of a fire engine, or was it two? By then the fire had taken a real hold and huge flames were leaping into the air from the roof.  I could hear the crackle and pop of the fire and wondered how it had started.  Fortunately the fire brigade managed to get the fire under control.  I soon had my answer - the unfortunate owner apparently had been inspired by my efforts and he decided to go up his ladder with a blow lamp with the intention of stripping off flaking paint before painting the house himself.  The felt caught fire immediately - what a plonker!! What had he between those two ears doing a 'daft' thing like that.  Eventually all was quiet but I bet his Mrs was far from quiet for a long time.

Half way through repairing the plasterwork I arrived one morning to see some fresh air rifle pellets embedded in my work. It was that gun happy son shooting pigeons again. I blew a fuse and marched to see the owner who was very apologetic but remarked that his son was not quite normal - boy I do pick 'em don't I. I remember saying I hoped his son did not mistake me for a wood pigeon.  It seems his father managed to prevent any further transgressions so I managed to finish the work on the scaffolding and move on to other areas. At that time I had not purchased my triple extension ladder and had to make do with a double which was not quite long enough for parts of the job.  I remember building a platform using an old door to tackle the highest reaches of a side elevation. Eddie defies gravity yet again!  I should have been spider man.

The whole job took me about three weeks because there was a lot of work at the back of the property and high up on the side elevations.  Here is the finished job showing all the woodwork repaired  and a glossy look on the new plasterwork.  Notice the stonework was also painted after I had 'sealed' it first.

This story occurred over 30 years ago and I am sure the owner and his wife have departed to pastures new by now.  I was interested to see recently that this same house was for sale and advertised in our local newspaper.  I very much doubt whether my handy work would have lasted that long but it did look exactly the same as when I finished it. You never know - it may have lasted! Could it I wonder? Nay, it probably had been repainted two or three times I would think.

Fancy Helping Me To Save The Sunday Roast?

Situations Vacant - The Sunday Roast Chief Exec requires Three Directors

Now you don't see plum jobs like these advertised very often, do you? So please read on and snap them up quick before these opportunities vanish for ever. It's a red hot chance for you to give folk a right royal roasting, just like you've always wanted to. Now I've had a bit of fun doing this post but actually I do require some help, be it large or small.  It might appeal to someone out there who has some spare time on their hands, who likes to get their teeth into a project and have loads of fun along the way.
So here is my imaginary job advertisement:

Three Directors Urgently Required to save The Sunday Roast

The current Chief Executive is stepping down to Director level and therefore invites three willing and tireless bloggers to form a team, with him as a fourth equal partner, in order to keep this popular flagship column on track and alive.  It is a top class column and it could become very popular.

Applications are welcome from anyone with at least one, or preferably several, of these highly desirable personal qualities:

They must have an outstanding sense of humour and be a bit cheeky

They must be slightly insane, just like Eddie
Must be a masochist and enjoy burning and turning people on the spit
They must have a vivid imagination
They must be witty and charming, just like the existing Chief Executive who is able to charm the birds out of the trees, of course
They must have the ability to extract information from their victims clinically and decisively
They must display a real hunger for running themselves into the ground for the good of the column
They must be capable of identifying, pursuing and relentlessly hunting down their prey when striving to find seemingly reluctant new 'roastees'
(They all end up loving it really but some at first pretend to be a bit shy)
They must be expert inquisitors/ torturers and never let their screaming quarry off the hook until the interview is safely received
They must be able to work well as team players
(Successful candidates will be invited to contribute to and discuss a Business Plan to re-launch the column)
Finally, they must not allow themselves to get despondent when they see few comments on their interview

In addition, it would be desirable for candidates to display willingness to:

Promote The Sunday Roast to the best of their ability throughout BlogLand using their proven Sales and Marketing experience

Suggest and implement new and more effective ways of spreading the good news of The Sunday Roast
(Like Twitter and Facebook etc.)

Successful applicants will be rewarded with this unbelievable remuneration package:

Salary: £0
Holiday Entitlement: Nil
Pension: Zero
Private Health and Accident Insurance: None
Company Car: None

Also wanted: an infinite number of Spies and Scouts
with the specific duty of finding and reporting new roasts.  Must have a press-gang type personality to encourage/bully new roasts to participate. Successful applicants could easily grow into the job and become members of the Board of Directors.

. 
Applications will be seriously considered for brave or foolhardy individuals who wish to make a solo friendly or hostile takeover of the column, seeing themselves as a White Knight in shining armour seated on a fiery steed.
(But take it from me folks, this job is too big for just one, I think)

My fee for transfer of all private equity and hand over of the feature lock, stock and barrel will be as follows, should your application be successful:

If you are a lady - a romantic candle-lit dinner for two at a venue of your choosing, provided you pick up the tab LOL

If you are a man - an unromantic, dinner for two at McDonald's in broad daylight. I'll buy you a hot dog

___________________________________________



Seriously folks I just cannot manage to keep it going by myself. I have done over 60 roasts since I took over from David.  I am sorry it has all come to a halt - I really enjoyed doing it but I just have not the time anymore.  I think it would be great fun if several of us teamed up and shared the work and in that way no one person would be under pressure to get the interviews out week after week.  Come on then, step forward, advance and be recognised and let's get this thing on the road again.  I have a few ideas as to how we can work together on this, and would invite suggestions from you.

Here is my email address:

eddiebluelights@gmail.com


Incidentally I do have some roasts in the oven but they surely must be incinerated by now - just like my cooking! LOL

I wonder if I may ask The Sunday Roast enthusiasts to display my advertisement somewhere in a prominent position on their blogs, perhaps you might consider it worthy of a special post - thank you.

For those who have not the foggiest idea what The Sunday Roast is please press HERE

I would be very interested to read your comments. Do you want to see it continued?  Or do you think it has run it's course?  I shall not be offended whatever the answer.

Six sent off following underpants row

Get this folks!!

I had to laugh when I heard this story on our local radio station this morning, so I thought you might like a little giggle too.  It concerns a youth football match and the almost unbelievable action by the referee when he sent off no less than five players for, wait for it, wearing the wrong coloured underpants.  And, get this, the manager was sent off too!  No wonder the team lost 6-0.
.

Here is full the story. Courtesy of The Bath Chronicle newspaper.

A youth game descended into farce after Bath City's youth team had five players and their manager sent off following a row about underpants.

Darren Adie, refereeing the contest against Newport County, contentiously ruled that some of the Bath team's underwear contravened the official rules.

The FA's rule 4 says "if thermal undershorts are worn, they are of the same main colour as the shorts."

Several players fell foul of the ruling, wearing white pants which were visible under the club's red shorts.

That said, the match was 20 minutes old before the issue came to a head.

Defender Billy Cooper was sent off first, with manager Billy Clark following for dissent at the decision, before Ciaran Rogers, Zemell Burton, Ben Bicknell and Lewis Pierre all saw red and were given their marching orders.

Despite that, the Bath Chronicle report that Bath City believe that even after the red cards, there were still players on the pitch on both sides who were technically in breach of the rules but remained on the pitch throughout.

Unsurprisingly, Bath City went on to lose the Youth Cup tie 6-0, with the first goal scored while two of their players were off the field, changing.

Bath City chairman Manda Rigby described the parents who saw the game as "distressed and angry," and said that referee Adie had locked himself in his room after the game. (spoil sport !)

‘"It was farcical - I have never seen anything like it before," she said.

‘"I was in total disbelief."

Bath managing director Paul Williams added: "It was all very surreal. I was angry with the officials.

"Every team has to submit a report about the officials to the FA. Let's just say ours is a very long report."

A spokesman for the FA said it was looking into the incident together with the Welsh FA, who supplied the match officials.

Newport County secretary Mike Everett, meanwhile, said he would not be making a similar complaint about the standard of refereeing. (I wonder why!)  "I understand that the initial problem was regarding incorrect undergarments," he said. "The referee made his decisions. There's not a lot I can add." (He might have added, "Thanks ref for helping us to win 6-0")

* * * * * * * * *

Back to me:

Apparently, as I heard on the radio this morning, the team was issued with an away strip minus underpants and the players were expected to provide thermal underwear at their expense.  Pity no-one told them which colour to buy - and wasn't the club stingy? Why did they not provide the full kit?

I cannot believe why the ref allowed this to happen. Why did he not inform the players before kick off and not after 20 minutes play?  And why bother to do it anyway?  It would not have affected play in the slightest.

It would serve the officials right if the team elected to play wearing no underpants and hope their modesty remained intact.  I guess it would help them to maintain their modesty if they read my highly popular post, titled "How to remove your underpants without removing your trousers" .  But this would in all probability be so exciting that everyone would want to try it, including the referee and the spectators, thus ruining the game further.

Let's hope their next game is not quite so PANTS!

Oh! and just in case you think the chap in the photo is me, like one commenter, who's name shall not be mentioned LOL, well even I would not admit to that LOL. Except, of course, I played rugby, not football LOL.

Eddie Drunk Under The Table By . . . . . A Priest and Mrs Bluelights Looks For A Large Hole In Which To Hide

Have you ever wanted to just crawl into the nearest available hole to hide one's embarrassment?  It happened to me and to Mrs Bluelights on separate occasions, courtesy of my dear son, then aged just 3.  I step into my time machine and invite you to join me when I recall both events, occurring during my Painting and Decorating days.

I may have mentioned before that although I am not a Catholic I do attend Catholic masses with my family. There are slight differences in basic theological 'fundamentals' which prevent me from signing up, and so I could be described as Church of England, but more accurately a 'Non Dinominational' worshipper, if you get my drift.  Anyway, my first story concerns our then local Catholic Priest who had been 'badgering' me for years to 'join the club' but could never understand why my reply was always that I am a member of the broader true 'invisible' church, free from all denominations.

One day we heard, to our dismay, that some youths, who I can only describe as 'Yobbos' had broken into the presbytery the previous evening and terrorised him for a few hours.  They had forced the flimsy side door open and easily gained access.  They gave him a torrid time but eventually they left and thankfully he was not physically harmed although he was very frightened and worried that they would return to repeat the ordeal. The police were not much use because they simply did not have the man power to constantly keep an eye on the place.  I was asked to see what I could do to fortify the entrance to make it impossible for these thugs to regain entrance.  I used fence posts inside the existing door and screwed them firmly into the walls, then I screwed sturdy timbers across the frame and I do believe that by the time I finished it the barricade was so strong it would almost stop a tank.  The priest was not convinced, however, because after a week he was still worrying, so I was asked to see him again to reassure him that it was completely safe and no-one could get in.  He told me that a reinforced wrought iron gate with bars at only 3 inch intervals was due to be fitted the next day and he said he would be completely at ease with that.  I thought for a while and given that he was so distraught I suggested I stayed with him that night to keep him company and make him feel safer.  He gladly took me up on my offer so I arrived at about 7.30pm and was greeted by a much relieved priest.  We sat for a while and then the inevitable happened.  He was an Irish Catholic Priest and in true form he produced a large bottle of whiskey which he proceeded to open and poured two generous glasses for us, remarking in 'a by the way' tone that there was water in the jug in case I wanted it, and during the whole course of the evening I never saw him pour any into his glass.

As one might expect the topic of conversation turned to religion. the saints, purgatory and other contentious issues.  I did not mind in the slightest because I do study the Bible but remarked that their New Jerusalem version includes "The Apocrypha" which technically is not recognised in the Canon of Scripture at the various church counsels throughout church history.  He appeared to enjoy the debate and smiled when I asked him what was the necessity of asking the saints to intervene for us and that I believed in going straight to the top and asking the "Top Man" personally, implying that anything else would suggest that God is not big enough to hear all our pleas and answer them all at once and why would he require a third party.  Anyway we carried on like this until about 2am and had 'downed' many glasses between us, with me diluting my share with copious amounts of water and him having all of his neat, much to my amazement.  The inevitable conclusion to the evening was that he drank me under the table and I remember remarking to him that if anyone came to trouble him now I would not be of much use. So we agreed to turn in which we did, with me in the guest room.  By now my ears had a continuous humming sound from within and the room was spinning, not in a horizontal plane, but a vertical one and that my friends meant one thing, and one thing only - I was about to bring my boots up LOL.  I stumbled to the bathroom - thanking God I remembered where it was - and sure enough my prediction was realised and through the haze I managed to congratulate myself on my marksmanship. I did not sleep a wink that night and had a thumping head, the like I had never before experienced. He on the other hand was a bright as a button at the crack of dawn and showed no signs of any hangover whatsoever.  He offered me breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, fried bread, baked beans and then toast - all the things I would otherwise have relished, but today I could not even think of it without revisiting the bathroom.  So I bade him goodbye and said I would return that evening to see if the new gate was to his satisfaction.

When I returned home, risking a possible drinking and driving charge I might add, Mrs Bluelights was truly amazed at my condition and equally amazed that 'Father' had actually got me into that state. All I could do, holding my head, was to lie down in complete oblivion to any vestige of life - oh for total darkness I longed! LOL.  My son was 3 and he obviously heard some of the things Mrs Bluelights had said to me and that evening I made the serious error of taking him along with me to see the priest.  Of course the innocent little lad blurted out as soon as we met, "Mummy said you gave Daddy far too much to drink last night!", to which he replied, "He should have used more water!".  Oh! my! I did feel embarrassed but no harm was done because he liked the gate and next mass he mentioned there had been a Good Samaritan in our midst and without mentioning my name he thanked me publicly.  As I reward he said mass for my Mother and Father who had both departed.  I was highly amused by this but took him up on his kind offer.

Now for Mrs Bluelights' turn.  A wealthy parishioner, whom I shall call Florinda, knew Mrs Bluelights is of Polish extraction.  Florinda explained she had a special guest staying with her who was Polish and would Mrs Bluelights and the family care to join her for afternoon tea.  I was working that day but Mrs Bluelights, our daughter and our son did attend but only after our 3 year old son was 'grilled' to be on his very best behaviour since Florinda was a very 'posh' lady.  He was told before he said anything to anyone he must first say "Excuse me!" and we practised this with a high level of success before the day.  So with confidence the three of them attended the afternoon tea party.  The dear little lad was marvellous all afternoon.  He was, and still is, a very friendly and social person and was very sensible for a lad of 3.  It all went well until he spoke again to Florinda but this time said, "Excuse me!".  She said, "Yes!  He said, and this caused Mrs Bluelights to want to find a big hole to fall into, "Excuse me! You are not a posh lady at all - you are a very nice one!"

She roared and roared with laughter!!  Oh how kids get you into trouble, don't they!  He just loves this story now! Upon reflection it was an extremely nice thing for him to say. For a long time we had some fun with this in church - whenever we saw Florinda we said, "Excuse me!" in a little voice before we began a conversation.

I'm Over 30 Feet Up And My Ladder Is Slipping! OMG

Here is my good old faithful triple extension ladder I used for my painting and decorating work.  See the wheels at the top?  If I wanted to hoist the ladder up further I would simply wheel it up the wall and in this way I could get it up very high without damaging the painting area. Over the years my arms and legs became very strong with moving the ladder all day long and climbing it endlessly - no wonder my hip wore out and well done the other one for surviving so long.

(Like the biceps? Now look, this is not a photoshop job either LOL)

I would never go up a ladder unless I knew it was completely safe and in later years I fitted special rubber swivel feet with a large surface area to give a lot of grip and stability.  Loads of painters and window cleaners who saw it were interested and wanted a set and I sent a lot of chaps to the ladder shop to buy some.  I was a bit slow there wasn't I?  I should have asked the shop for some commission. I could have made a fortune.

 (How's that for increased grip?)

In my early days before I fitted the swivel feet I was painting the walls of a large house with exterior brilliant white Weathershield.  This house included a chimney, also requiring painting, and it's top was about 40 feet above the ground - Oh Lawdy Me! Another fine mess I got myself into LOL - might be easier walking on water.  The back of the chimney was to be reached using my roof ladder.  Here it is - now in my garage and not used for a few years and serving very nicely to help to store some of my junk.

Back to the job.

I had to carry this long roof ladder up my ladder and get the wheels onto the roof so I could push it up the tiles until it reached the top. Then I had to turn it over and pull it down the roof until I met resistance - it was now hooked over the tile ridge and ready for me to board.  I had to make sure my ladder reached higher than the roof ladder so I could climb onto it from my ladder, carefully remembering which foot went where so I could do the reverse when I came down. We couldn't have me making a 999 call to the Fire Brigade to get me down, could we?  Of course I couldn't anyway because this occurred long before we had mobile cell phones.  Oh, yes, I had to carry some paint and a roller up as well and use a special bucket which hooked onto the normal ladder or roof ladder. It all sounds like a Buster Keaton movie doesn't it?  Well, that was the plan. On this particular occasion I was addressing the outside of the chimney and I was about 35 feet up and my ladder was fully extended.  It was a beautiful day, as I remember and I had just cut in all the top brush painting and was about to use the roller. I had my roller pole all ready and I happened to glance at the ladder wheels and got the shock of my life!!  The wheels were slowly turning . . . . . . . . .  and turning in a . . . . . . help! . . . . . . . in a downward direction. "OMG!" I said to myself, and I had not even got a parachute with me!  I thought it could be either that the ladder was sinking or, worst case scenario, the base might be slipping outwards, away from the house.  I was worried to say the least!   I had to move very, very gently because I feared the latter was the case and if so the wheels would accelerate at a rate I would not appreciate, causing me to travel rapidly in a southerly direction. "Don't panic!", I said to myself.  I left paint in the bucket on my ladder hook and ever so slowly I descended and got down safely.  I was relieved to find the ladder had simply sunk about 6 inches into some soft ground, which actually could still have been dangerous.  Fortunately both sides had sunk equally because if they had not the whole thing might have tipped sideways in which case, "Bye Bye Eddie! - hope you have a soft landing!".  I suppose I should have realised before I went up the ladder it had been raining quite hard recently and the ground was quite soft.  After a while I regained composure and found some wood planks which I put under the rungs to stop it slipping further.  I jumped up and down on the bottom rung to test it and the ladder did not sink further so I ascended 'Jacob's Ladder' as I affectionately called my ladder and got on with the job, fortunately with no further mishaps.

The house in question was owned by a GP and his wife and my darling sister, Maggie May of Nuts In May,  had recommended my services to them at her church.  They had a rather interesting story because the gentleman some years previously had a serious back complaint and had visited a well known Christian Healer called Ian Andrews at a special healing service.  Ian had prayed for healing and the doctor's back was healed but he did have the occasional twinge now and then. I had already at that time some interesting healing tapes by Ian Andrews and the doctor and I discussed these sometimes during various coffee breaks.

I suppose if Newton's Law had chosen to propel me quickly in a southerly direction Ian Andrews might have come to my rescue LOL. My, I've met some interesting characters, haven't I?

The Day They Raised The Roof

I am still on the subject of Painting and Decorating, and will remain so for some time, because I have many stories, dredged from my cerebral hemispheres, which are well worth telling.

This story goes way back to my first sojourn with the trade; long before I met Chris. It was during the early 80s, 1982 to be precise, the year of  The Falkland's War with Argentina, when unemployment here was rife, exceeding three million. Until recently I had been one of them after our company was unceremoniously closed due to cheap and nasty foreign imports.  This was so typical of what was happening across our manufacturing industry and it was the beginning of the demise of many of UK's famous engineering names when company after company was closed down.  Our government did not seem to mind too much and they tried to steer people into service industries which they thought was the answer to our future prosperity - the short sighted fools!  We are still suffering today due to their total mismanagement of our faltering industry and economy.  I had lost my job in middle management and frankly had given up on the job market front after 200 rejections.  I remember getting so fed up with not even getting a single response to any of my applications I telephoned one company and said that since I had not received a reply from them I was assuming no news was good news and therefore I had got the job and what time would they like me to start working on Monday, 8.30 or perhaps 9.00am.  They were highly embarrassed and I received a "No" letter the very next day, delivered by hand. Eventually I decided to work for myself - at least I could not make myself redundant, so I chose to work in something I enjoyed and in which I was very competent - I was always good at DIY and decided to try it.  At the time people were very cruel about the unemployment situation, saying catty remarks like, "I know how to cure the three million unemployed - send them all to the Falklands!".  I almost came to blows a few times with characters saying things like that because I understood what it was like to lose one's job, with a young wife and family, and I had, and still have, every sympathy for decent and honest folk losing their jobs through no fault of their own.  Of course I have no sympathy for scroungers - that is different.

Anyway, enough of all that!  I have a very amusing story for you and it centred on the owners of a local Post Office when they planned to move his elderly mother from her home in London to Bristol so they could look after her.  The house they bought was just four houses up the road from the Post Office, the proprietors who owned and lived in accomodation over their shop.  I imagine they had arranged the sale of his mother's house to finance her new house.  I had placed a small advertisement in a local newspaper and a few days later and I was delighted to receive a phone call asking me if I would view a job and provide a quotation for painting and decoration the entire interior and all the external paintwork. It was a huge job and I quoted as requested and to add to the list they wanted also someone to paint the outside woodwork of the Post Office.  I left them with the quotation and the next week they asked if I would mind sharing the work because they had a very tight time table and there was too much for one person to achieve the deadline.  I did not mind at all so two weeks later I set off with my ladder and equipment - I was doing the external paintwork.

When I arrived I was amazed!  There was a chap installing a kitchen and he seemed to be doing all the co-ordinating, if you could call it that.  There was absolute chaos prevailing everywhere.  Two guys were doing the internal painting and decorating and there was also an electrician and a plumber. We all seemed to get on OK but we did get in each other's way a lot - in fact on occasions we literally fell over each other.  There was a huge clash between me and the internal painters because whenever I opened a sash window from the outside they moaned I had spoilt their paintwork and whenever I completed my painting of windows a grubby pair of hands invariably opened the window from the inside and ruined my work, particularly new putty work. Tempers flared on occasions and the kitchen fitter, being by far the worst culprit, constantly caused copious amounts of sawdust to fly from his work by the bucket load all over the internal decorators' new paintwork, causing them to utter long phrases in very strong language which was certainly not in "The Queen's English" and invariably punctuated with a generous supply of adjectives, not appearing in any recognised or authorised dictionary.  His response was usually just two words illustrated by two fingers! which almost caused a serious fight on several occasions.

Prior to starting my self employment I was receiving unemployment benefit, known as 'being on the dole', but because I had started self employment work I signed off.  During my visit I was amazed to see three people I knew queuing for their unemployment benefit (dole money) . . . . . and yes, you've guessed it, they were non other than our two internal painters AND the kitchen fitter.  When they saw me they gestured me to 'keep mum' about it so they did not get into trouble.  I duly obliged.

After a frustrating week all the upstairs work was done and I must say the chaps had made a lovely job of the internal decorations.  I made good progress also and after a few more days we all had finished with the exception of the kitchen fitter who seemed to be making a big meal of the job.

But what should we see that very afternoon?  A fellow called round to work in the roof and his job was to, you're not going to believe this, jack up the roof because it was sagging.  Stone the timbers!!!  What a time to do that!!!  Who the hell arranged the work sequence - it was a disaster!!  He went into the roof and jacked it up, inserting extra supports to straighten the sagging roof.  It creaked and it groaned and outside we could actually see the ridge moving upwards.  Surely this should have been done first!!  We were all horrified, including the owners, because all the decorations were ruined 3 inches from ceiling down the walls and the ceilings and top of the walls were cracked.  The owners 'did their nuts', as we say, because time was at a premium and his mother was due to move in early next week - it all had to be ready for her.  We all put our heads together and came up with a solution and that was to add plaster coving to cover the damage and to repair the ceiling cracks. The decorators rubbed their hands with glee because they would earn extra money for the additional work and repairs. Adding the coving worked and it all looked fine a few days later. By now I was working at the Post Office but I popped round regularly to see how things were progressing.  Once I arrived to see the mother's entrance to her new home. In my mind I was humming Handel's "The Arrival Of The Queen Of Sheba". We were all expecting to hear sounds of appreciation and see big smiles but . . . . . . instead she flew into a violent rage, saying she did not like the house, did not like the decorations, did not like the 'small' rooms, did not like the kitchen or the bathroom or the garden and she did not like any of us.  She demanded to be taken back to her house in London.  Methinks the lady did protest too much LOL.  Hell certainly did not have fury like this woman's scorn.  I felt really sorry for the Post Office proprietors.

I am not sure how it all panned out because that was our last day.  I often wondered but never plucked up the courage to see the Post Office proprietor to ask him but I sometimes think about it and have a chuckle.  I also often wonder what became of my dubious work colleagues whose names escape me after 29 years, and whether they were ever caught by the authorities for falsely claiming unemployment benefit, Shhh!.


I'd like to invite my wonderful followers and readers to a virtual Labor Day BBQ  over at my dear friend, Karen G.'s blog. It starts now and will continue through the 3 day weekend. Why not visit  and meet some new bloggers and get a bunch of new followers. Oh, and don't forget to take some BBQ treats along with you. Don't miss it!