New tyres
So I moseyed down to the tyre place yesterday afternoon. The bloke looked over my tyres, and just as I’d suspected, told me in no uncertain terms that they were beyond the bounds of roadworthy.
He also puzzled over why there were non-standard (wider than usual) tyres on the car. “Someone in the past must have chosen them.” The thing is, I think it was me. I think I may have chosen Goodyear Eagle GA tyres, for no other reason than that my kids (then toddlers) liked the Goodyear Blimp. And now I think about it, the people in the tyre place back then did seem surprised at the choice. They probably thought I was an automative guru who had done months of research on which tyres would be the best.
I actually know nothing about car maintenance. I just use the car, I don’t know how it works, nor do I want to know.
Anyway, 45 minutes and ARGH hundred dollars later, new tyres had been fitted. Next bit is the car servicing, scheduled for Friday. I’m not looking forward to that.
(The car service guy noted my occasional TV appearances. The tyre guy didn’t. I’m not about to tell them that if I ran the world, their industry would be decimated.)
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I am no longer gormless
Yesterday I followed a time-honoured tradition, something done by countless millions on the Easter Monday holiday, right across the western world.
I returned stuff to Ikea.
As many did, I had gone along on Saturday, full of good intentions and a cashed-up wallet, ready to splurge on something new and exciting to spend time building on Sunday.
In my case, it was shelving, for the back room. My back room is full of crap. Crap in boxes, loose crap, assorted crap, all sorts of crap. The shelving is an attempt to get the crap into some sort of order, so the crap is confined to just part of the room.
My chosen shelves? Ikea’s Gorm range. Some might say it’s just a bunch of bits of wood, chucked loosely together, and it looks little better than the traditional student’s “bricks plus planks” shelves, and they might be right, but I thought it would be perfect for the space.
Alas, I didn’t quite get the right combination of bits, and so Isaac, Jeremy and I had to go back to exchange some of it. It’s a bit like what I imagine a visit to the emergency ward of a hospital might be like. You go in, take a ticket, and sit in a waiting room, ignoring the TV, and watching the number sign as you wait for your turn, your sick furniture waiting by your side.
We actually ran into a former work colleague of mine, Carlson, who was also returning sick furniture. Carlson is one of nicest and scrupulously honest people you could ever hope to meet (or at least, he gives a good impression of it). Sometimes it makes me wonder how he is so successful.
We swapped notes.
“What have you got? I got the wrong thing.”
“Mine was chipped when I got it out of the box.”
Thankfully the wait wasn’t too long, the transplant was painless, and now we have the right shelves to fill the space… even if it’ll have to wait a day or two until I have time to assemble it all.
(We did start off taking pictures for another desk-style assembly animation, but I don’t know if I can be bothered doing it all this time round.)
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Still impressive
I don’t agree with the name change, but I do think the renovated Southern Cross Station is impressive.
Compare this picture from about a year ago to how it looks today (yep, there is a massive tram stop in front of it, seen here with a massive tram, so it’s a bit harder to see everything):
And here’s the view from inside:
(Click on either of the pictures to see them in full, unencumbered by the web page navigation.)
Marita was on the train at platform 2, heading to her parents’ for the day. Although there’s a sign for platform 1, it would appear you have to walk a good distance further north to get to it.
Great Friday
Ah, Good Friday.
It seems like ages since I’ve been able to sleep in, then laze about the house in my pyjamas. Shortly I’ll watch the vid of last night’s West Wing, then maybe, maybe I’ll consider having a shower and shave and getting dressed.
But no rush.
I’ve decided, by the way, that the only thing I don’t like about the West Wing is the end credits music. Particularly on the DVDs, where there’s no trailer for next week, it sounds way too chirpy and lessens the impact of the episode ending. This is in total contrast to the opening titles music (written by the same guy) which suits the mood 100%.
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High-visibility jackets
It used to be just construction workers that wore high-visibility tops. Now they adorn police on traffic duty, tram/train customer service people, cyclists, truck drivers, builders, couriers, and so on.
They do make a person more visible (spectacularly so at night), even if they do little else. Railway industry people wryly observe that some of the more foolish of their number think that a high-visibility jacket will magically prevent them from being hit by trains.
It might be a bit of an arms race like visibility from four-wheel drives. How visible will they be if everyone wears them? Not at all, in crowds, I suspect.
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I’m going to be poor next month
I’m going to be poor next month. Such is the life of a contractor that you don’t get to claim for public holidays, and since I send in invoices monthly, April’s will be missing not only Good Friday, Easter Monday and ANZAC Day, but also today, as I’m at home convalescing.
Yesterday I found myself sneezing incessantly, something I initially thought was hayfever. After gulping down an antihistamine and noting the onset of a sore throat, it became obvious it wasn’t hayfever, and I decided to take today off.
On the upside, I’m not feeling too bad, and have got a few housey tidying things done. And I did join in a phone conference, so I won’t lose a whole day’s wages.
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April is car maintenance month
April is car maintenance month for me.
First thing will be new tyres. I don’t do a lot of driving (in the region of 10,000km per year, which is apparently about half the average), but the tyres date back to last century. The front-left deflates rather too fast, and they are failing the matchstick head test, so I am almost embarassed to take the car in for a service with such worn tyres, given that the service guys have previously pointed out such problems. Not to mention the whole safety thing.
After that will be a service. I’ve long taken the view that if I have to have a car, preventative regular service is good for keeping it running reliably and efficiently. I’d much rather spend $ARGH every year or so on a proper 10K service than have it break down when I’m in a hurry somewhere and suffer consequent loss of wages and hassle, which would cost at least as much.
Alas, apart from getting past the due date for a service (the magic 200K this time round, in fact), the car has been complaining a bit. Spluttering a tad, like it’s been threatening to stall. Not good, and I suspect I’d better clear my Visa card for action this time round.
I also discovered a dirty little secret about my car. I’ve discovered the airconditioning uses CFCs. I gather there are ways and means of having it upgraded to be CFC-free. Something to look into.
PS. 9am Wednesday. And I just discovered a crack in part of the dashboard. I’m starting to think my car is moving into its autumn years. What’s thirteen in car years? Will it soon need the vehicular equivalent of a hip replacement?
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Saucy!
My kids love tomato sauce, so we often have it on the table during meals. There’s several brands available, the main ones being Masterfoods and Heinz (Big Red). They both taste the same to me.
But the Masterfoods one comes in a bottle with recycle code 4, which is not recyclable in my area. Heinz comes in a bottle with recycle code 1, or in glass, both of which are recyclable.
So I buy the Heinz.
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