Had an Email from Jessops'

Checking my Emails Thursday and found I had got one from Jessops at Cribbs Causeway.

Thank the Lord that some firms do take notice of what customers ask them to do.

Because of my deafness I had requested of the young lady that was serving to Email me rather than ringing. When I checked my mail mid-morning I found a message telling me that my SLT A77 was waiting for me at Cribbs Causeway.

Horrible day of misty rain; not heavy, but bad enough to be a damned nuisance. Off I went on the 2.20 bus. Bus was full of shoppers but after a couple of stops I managed to get a single seat where I prefer sitting.

Made my way to Jessops' shop and had the camera returned to me. I have been lost without it for almost 2 months. I had the SLT A55 as a stand-by but it was not the same.
Paid a whacking £493 for the repair and overhaul. It was worth it because a new replacement would have been over £1,000 They had put a new control board unit and a new top complete. It is now more or less a new camera.

When we were coming back the bus driver got mixed into driving down the Portbury Docks road and had to turn at the large round-a-bout and get back up to the interchange again. Then almost in to Portishead he stopped to take some passengers on from a broken down X6 double decker. Result I was around 20 minutes late getting back.

The chap who had been working on the bathroom had gone but I managed to take a few pix with the Tamron extra wide angle lens.

Tiling had been finished but grouting needs doing now.

Won't it be lovely to be able to have a shower. I can't quite figure out how it will be set up but the 'wet-room' will stop the risk of falling.

Then Danny knocked and told me that the concrete had been laid on the set-up at the back and they are coming again today to do the last strip.

Job is finally finished. How nice to be able to have a shower with really hot water with a bit of power behind it. 
Now I have to wait for them to come again to re-model my kitchen. 

It makes me wonder if my Gods have forgiven my transgressions after all.

Do they know?

If they do know why can't they understand?

A work crew turned up yesterday to remove what is left of my old shed.

Only half of it remained after Martin's attempt to build new ones.

I had asked for the loan of a tarpaulin to cover what is left of the contents. Ian Sansum Alliance Housing Manager had in turn asked the surveyor, who probably thought bugger it. 

As a result no tarp had been lent to me. My stuff that had been crammed into the half shed that remained; had to be removed out into the weather when they came again this morning..

The remaining slabs of the patio after the removal of the odd things from the shed half, - a rushed occasion -  could then be taken up.

Levels taken and the concreting job put under-way. The rushed removal of my things meant that until the job is finished presumably they will have to stand out in the rain.

Although I did take my electric 50 foot cable and reel into the flat where it will be safe from water infiltration.

Why is it that inter-communication with Alliance is so hard with SOME departments. 

Interesting pix.

Put some old pictures from my PowerPoint "Shops of the lower town" slide show on Everything Clevedon this morning. Surprising the interest they produced.

Merrifield's shop in Old Church Road.

Started with Merrifield's shop in Old Church Road.

Then moved to Sonny Tippets in Old Street.

A shop I can remember just about.

I was taken there once many, many, years ago by my father.

I can remember we had to go down steps to go into the fish and chip shop

Tippets Cycle shop in Dales tenement that was.

Henry Lewis' pottery in Ken Road

How many people can you see in the picture above? five?

Puddling the clay to remove any particles of stone or quartz.

A sample of his work including an imperfect shot of the tree-trunk garden ornament 

I reckon the little busts of Kitchener are what made the legend of the busts on the Terra-Cotta tiles on the front of the house say Kitchener and Queen Victoria.

Apparently they were/are busts of Binding and his wife.

I remember I used to call in a house on Kensington Terrace opposite; where there was a white plant pot holder with a woman's face on it in the entry hall way. Very much like the ones at the top left and right. 

Went to Hangstone top this morning.

Still dark and I had to hang on to the fence posts on the steep bits of the pathway.

Managed a small sweep pic the required editing with Elements 6 to lighten up the very dark bits.

Took quite a time to get light because of the cloud along the top of Broadfield Down.

Both shots of Clevedon looked OK but no sky effects. Pity it was not brighter but I did see the mist along the moorland and got a couple of shots of them.

They needed a little tweek from Elements too.

A pity that the pathway is so steep in a couple of places. I gripped the fence to make sure that I didn't go for a Burton, on the way up. My balance and confidence has got worse since my fall last week. The fact that it was so dark didn't help either. 

Early morning.

Someone posted on Everything Clevedon when there was a picture without sunset and without the pier on it posted.

They asked if we could have a little rest from them. "How about Sunrise pix" they more or less suggested.

I sorted out some taken from Court lane and Manmoor Lane.

Had quite a good reception.

I put eight on altogether here are three of them

All of these are from the motorway bridge very early in the morning.

Where do they come from?

Came on some old negatives again the other day. Where do they come from? back in the mid 1960s. Why did they survive? Because they were not in the pile of negatives that got ruined by rain.

I was working on the Saturday and driving the oil van down Stroud Road when I saw some lads fishing.
I got off with the camera and started to talk to them. They were all concious of the camera but I took one pic anyway.

I then said "There's a dead one in there"

Camera was straight away forgotten. Anxious eyes and turning the jam jar around to see where the dead fish was. Camera could have been in Mars for all they cared.

I said "No it's not down the bottom it's floating up to the top dead fish always float"
Inspection of the jar got really serious. 
Who wants dead fish in a jam jar?


Camera was no longer there; as far as they were concerned I could have been in Mars as well.
Picture taken titled "Net Profits". Adox film 40R developed in Beutler developer extreme fine grain. Posted on www.morguefile.com where it has been downloaded approaching 400 times.

Twilight.

As I approach the twilight of my life my memories go back to the earlier years. I remember the days when I used to go out with a shotgun. When I had my first car, and then after that my first motorcycle sidecar out fit.

And when I graduated up to a newer model bike.

The Easter day when I went down to Riverside Farm in Kingston Seymour with friends to see the pups that Frank Maynard’s Labrador bitch Judy had produced.

The way that the three of them had immediately picked the pups thay wanted while the one I thought was the best had been un-chosen.

How I had pondered on it during the ride back and then when I had got back phoned Frank and told him I would have the last dog pup. A pup that grew into a dog I will never forget. A 50pence bargain that filled my heart with pleasure and whose death made me resolve never to own another dog again. For no other dog would or could, compare with him.

Of the white cat that had turned up in our shed one Christmas Eve and presented itself to me. Scared to death and frightened, ill at ease and rather untrusting yet let me feed it milk and some food. Then the following day came to me when I offered it another meal and permitted me to pick it up and soothe its fears. And how I was enabled to carry it down to the house and it adopted me.

When I was moved it too moved with me to Marson Road and used to know more people there than I did. Stretching himself along the brass doorstep and condescending to allow folk passing by to make a fuss of him.

I remember too the lady that remarked to her companion as they came back to the car park to her car; “I think that cat must be a stray, it always seems to be about here. I wondered whether or not to report it to the RSPCA”

I remarked as I was checking on the coal bunker outside the back door. “He is no stray he is mine. Or rather I am his; I don’t know what he thinks but he acts to me as though that is what is on his mind”

She laughed and said to me “That is what cats are like if you get a good one”

Is this what getting old does? When I can think back and remember more of those early days than I can of last week, and the week before?