Wreck of the Week

It turns out that the term “Wreck of the Week” is a rather popular one; in fact it is in use all around the world.

There are a few websites using the term and now there is even a book

I haven’t found a British site as yet so I don’t feel that I am competing with anyone. But perhaps there will be some recognition of these other sites from me as I go forwards.

My favourite this week is from Australia:

http://bitethedust.com.au/bitingthedust/category/odd-stuff/wreck-of-the-week/

There are some delicious images here of old cars dust laden and sun bleached. Sadly my attempts to raise the author such that I might use some of his images in headers for my blog seem to have failed. However this does not stop the content being first class. Well worth a look I’d say.

At last I’ve found a UK site on “rust in peace”. This has been the subject of a search for the last few articles – so far always yielding something from the US.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-457661/Rust-peace-Classic-cars-left-rot.html

This appears to be the book which they are featuring:

Bookfinder

This week’s video clips along at an impressive rate:

What’s the matter with these video people? Don’t they understand that nostalgia likes to develop slowly?

It’s a shame that none of these video posters give an address where they shoot the footage. How are nostalgia-types supposed to spend ridiculous amounts of money on these cars if they don’t tell us where they are?

This week our auction car seems to be on the cheap side

https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/282832610698?ul_noapp=true

relisted a couple times and then ultimately sold for £401.00 (roughly $545 or €449)

This seems significantly cheaper than some of the very crumbly remains we have examined of late. So what gives with Standard cars? It appears that it was all up with them by 1963 .

Although British Leyland had swallowed them by 1960. It seems that they were not very successful latterly. Perhaps this is part of the reason why they are not commanding high prices now.

A comparison with new prices reveals some disconnect this https://www.carandclassic.co.uk/car/C362670 has an (admittedly Phase I car) for sale at £6500 (roughly $8840 or €7280). Which is a reasonable sum. How come our little car receives so little attention (bidding wise in any case).

Well to my mind the seller gains points for listing the full registration date (15/07/1953). As mentioned in a previous wreck of the week I am always alert for a car first registered on the day I was born. This search is rendered difficult by a posted registration date of “1953”. This could be any day on any month of that year. Come on auction posters more full registration dates if you please.

Of course he loses marks by using the all caps shouty case. So beloved (no doubt) of a famous Radio 2 DJ and former Top Gear presenter.

I’m not sure that shouty really sells your car. However us nostalgiaphiles are made of sterner stuff. We will not be dissuaded by those without a volume control.

More likely I fear the last detail is the most relevant. “Please remember this car is located in Cornwall TR15 area before you bid”. (I removed the shouty case). This speaks of a seller weary by former bidders saying “how far” when they win the vehicle.

To put in context this is 5 ½ hours from my house. For those United States readers who are looking at this incredulously. The final miles of this are over narrow roads the speed of which would tax even the Pope’s patience. (I am aware that on that vast continent 340 miles (or thereabouts) is around-the-corner-to-buy-a-coke distance).

In the UK, the classical lengthy trip is from Land’s End at the tippity toe of England diagonally across and up to John o’ Groats. (This is effectively the back of Scotland’s head). There are various estimates but I get this as 1042 miles. The UK would fit into the United States many times. The distance to Cornwall would dissuade many. (Who did not already live there in any case).

I therefore fear that the car might well be of appeal but its location is not.

A 1953 Standard Vanguard – of which the majority were for export. (To assist in recovery from the debts we had accrued during the war so I understand). To have one under one’s driving shoe must be a rare experience indeed. This is a Phase III (according to the advert). The seller states this is rare. He is almost certainly correct as I cannot find another for sale at this moment. One would imagine therefore that the preservation of it would be high in the nation’s consideration.

However since austerity the UK’s ability to look after its own heritage appears to be muted. In which case a rusty wreck in a Cornwallian yard will probably not awaken much interest.

For those not yet in the know the term “barn find” is indicative of nothing at all. Sometime in the recent past the term “barn find” became synonymous with a rediscovered treasure. Put “barn find” in an advert and the goose will start laying those shiny metal ingots. However now it has come to mean “old”, “shabby”, “needs work”.

So what is she like this Standard Vanguard Phase III?

Firstly pictures lead me to suspect this is a Phase II. Phase III is quite different. The Bonnet badge (hood ornament to any American readers) on this does not look like a Phase I so I think Phase II. Standard Vanguard experts will no doubt be shaking their heads at my vast lack of expertise in this area.

Given she has been around since 1953 I am amazed at how good she looks. And frankly I like the look. The large chrome front, the split screen, the pronounced bonnet badge remind me of the brief flirtation with Americana that we had in the UK. They were times of great optimism, a feeling which has not persisted to the present day.

It is sad that to aid the sale the seller lists the number plate TPE844 as transferable. How many cars are now running round with the wrong number plate because of this fashion in number plate transfers. It is a great loss to the history of the car. I shall be quite encouraged if someone sees fit to eliminate the practice. The buying of defunct registrations from the DVLA being the exception here.

Apparently it has had only 3 owners since registration. At over 20 years per owner – somebody really loved this car. A shame then that it is in this crusty state.

Some of the paperwork related shenanigans that we have seen with some previous wreck of the week vehicles are not likely with this one. The seller declares the V5 to be present. (For the uninitiated the term “log book” and V5 have become exchangeable terms).

It is so attractive that you would imagine it had been customised. Styling being more of an art than a wind-tunnel-mandated-science in those days I imagine.

It is sad that he emphasises the fact that the car no longer requires an MOT.

For those not inveigled by the vagaries of the UK roadworthiness system. The MOT is an annual test which whilst flawed in so many ways ensures that the car will go, stop, and steer and is unlikely to crack in half on the motorway (freeway to any American readers).

The removal of an MOT requirement for some older vehicles seems to me a dangerous step. The encouragement here is to run cars without testing them. Ultimately meaning that older cars become a hazard. The wise amongst car owners will continue to pay for an annual test and to rectify such elements as are found wanting. I await with trepidation the day when an MOT-exempt vehicle kills someone. The resulting call for these old rust-traps to be condemned forever seems a headline one can predict from any tabloid newspaper.

At which point nostalgia be damned and get these awful wrecks off the roads.

I can tell how much I love this car by how kind I have been thus far but enough – back to old school criticism. There is rust in both sills, nibbling at the boot lid, boot surround (trunk for American readers). That fuel tank also looks like a leak waiting to happen.

The Standard Vanguard Engine however was much respected. A tuned version was used in the TR3 sports car. The engine is present but I am not clear about the ancillaries.

Crikey, possibly the least well preserved bench seat I have seen. That dash also appears to have suffered to a considerable degree (given that it is inside the car). If appearances are anything to go by not much is saveable in here.

Any prospective restorer is going to be on great speaking terms with an upholsterer. The steering wheel appears to be cracked. However the often fragile horn rim appears intact which is something of a surprise.

The seller was not stretching the truth when he said it would need complete restoration.

This looks like where we came in – although the full extent of the sill and lower door rot can be better seen here.

Sadly the seller does not lift the bonnet for any of the shots (presumably because there is nothing there). The wing seams look well corroded as does the bonnet edge. The headlamp chrome is strangely still bright though. As if these are later replacements. Both wing mirrors are present and remarkably all 4 tyres seem to be holding air.

It was located here

But unlike the Morris of last week has already sold.

I hope that this means that someone who is greatly interested and motivated has decided to raise her from the dead.

This apparently confirms that the car had done 70,000 miles. It is odd that I can make out 9036 as some of the characters and I’m almost convinced that first number is a 3? That doesn’t seem to make sense, perhaps the first number is a 6?

She has sold – so there is a strong hope that she will be back on the road again at some point.

If the purchaser comes across this blog post please let us know how you got on with her.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Credit to the property website from which the original idea (for Wreck of the Week) came:

http://www.wreckoftheweek.co.uk/

(Unlike that site, which is about houses, this series of blogs is and will be all about crumbly old cars).

Father Christmas

This was part of an exercise designed such that you would write about children.

Unfortunately I have very limited experience with children and apparently it showed. My lack of understanding was about the level that children think at.

From my perspective a child has reasonably little awareness of a world outside of their head. My limited understanding stemmed from the way parents treat children.

Parents insist upon holding a child’s hand (because children have no idea an oncoming car can kill them).

Parents tend to keep children close to them (because children can’t survive alone).

Parents escort children everywhere (because children are unable to do anything by themselves).

So I had the impression that prior to a certain age a child’s perspective was skewed by what was inside the child’s head.

The feedback I received was that the story was unrealistic as the child would not be this naïve.

That shows how little I know.

This underlines the idea that you should try to write about things that you know – or do your research well.

After this I’ve pretty well decided that using children as characters is not going to be something that I’m great at. So probably has no future in the things that I write.

The following therefore is probably only of interest in terms of an example of what not to do.

Story

“Can I have a puppy Mummy? Can I? I want a puppy because I don’t have a puppy”.

“Timmy be quiet can’t you see I’m talking?”

Mummy was talking very loud. Mummy is loud if I am naughty. I think the man must have been naughty. I hid behind Mummy’s legs.

Mummy was very upset –the back of her hand went white. My hand hurts when she holds it so tightly.

“Mummy, Mummy let go, I want to play”.

I looked down at my new shoes. The little lights in the sides came on as I was walking. I was stamping my shoes and trying to see the lights come on.

I wondered if the strange man had sweeties. “Hello” I said from behind Mummy’s legs.

The man bent down and looked at me. He was very dirty, he had strange-looking hair with leaves in it.

“Mummy he smells funny”

Mummy pulled my hand suddenly – it really hurt – I was crying. Mummy was talking very loud now.

The man had Mummy’s handbag. Perhaps he wanted to buy me presents? Sometimes Mummy buys me presents when she has that bag.

Mummy said that Father Christmas would come with presents. Perhaps this man was Father Christmas? He had a wrinkly hairy face.

“Mummy has Father Christmas got me a present?”

“Timmy if you don’t shut up I’ll give you a thick ear, understand?”

Mummy took me to see Father Christmas before; he wasn’t like this Father Christmas. When I went to see Father Christmas before he was shiny, red and happy, he didn’t smell like this man.

I saw another Father Christmas in a shop today. Maybe there are lots of Father Christmas’s? Perhaps I get more presents if there are lots of Father Christmas’s?

“I want a present, I want a present”.

Mummy turned around and smacked me. I started crying. I felt hot and tired

Mummy was very angry now; she was really shouting – her arm had gone stiff and my hand was really hurting.

People were standing still watching me. They must have known that I was with Father Christmas.

It was very quiet now. Mummy was not shouting. A shiny car was there; it was white and had funny lights.

The lights on my shoes are red, these lights were blue, they were very high, I watched them go round and round.

A really big man was talking to Mummy. He had very dark clothes on; he was scary. He had a shiny belt on; I was watching the long stick on that belt. Billy has a stick like that; he got it for his birthday. I don’t think I could have played with this stick. Billy has a puppy, it was all floppy and sleepy – I don’t think Father Christmas had my puppy.

The big man put Father Christmas in his shiny car.

“Mummy can I go with Father Christmas?”

“NO Timmy you can’t”.

Mummy didn’t have hold of my hand now. I jumped in next to Father Christmas.

“Father Christmas, can I have a puppy?”

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Wreck of the Week

I followed up last week’s “rust in peace” search in the hope of finding something from the UK.

Instead I found another American site (It seems they are so much better at rust in peace than we are currently). Or more prolific with it in any case:

http://apexautomag.com/2015/06/rust-in-peace/

The above article explains some of the author’s nostalgia for cars. He misses something for me. There is something about a car designed to do a job sitting instead slowly mouldering which is very sad and at the same time interesting.

So I decided to follow-up with another YouTube video:

This one wasn’t quite as fetching as last week’s predominantly because of the pace with which it shifts through the cars. It is too Speedy Gonzalez for me.

However the list of cars is interesting:

Grey Ferguson

Fordson Major with cat tracks.

Peugeot 405 MI16X4 with registration

Hillman Imp

Ford Capri MK3 (Once xpack kitted)

Ford Cortina with registration OOF 752X

VW Scirocco with registration H749 LJB

Morris 8 with registration BDE 133

Austin Metro with registrion BUY 1W

Honda motorbike with registration NNA 392W

VW Scirocco

Triumph Spitfire

Morris Minor with registration LCM 607G

Ford Escort MK5 with registration J422 FFM

Peugeot 309 GTI with registration F160 GSO

Ford Escort MK4 with registration E873 EMY

Ford Sierra with registration F731 SHW

BMW CSI 635 AUTO with registration D723 DAA

This is the list given in the video’s notes. However there must be some missing. I definitely spotted a Jag. I thought I also saw what looked like a Bedford HA van with a camper roof. There are probably more.

There is no clue as to where any of these cars are, (we have to content ourselves with a “Shropshire salvage yard”). Some of them look sufficiently interesting that they might be tempting to a restorer, for the right price anyway.

Delving once again into the overpriced world of historic rust auctions – this week is an odd one. The car does not appear to have sold, despite being relisted at least once.

Compared to some of the auctions we have seen this did not seem overpriced.

For some reason it appears that Morris Minor Saloons are not in demand for restoration now.

In their day the car was no more mundane than a Ford. But we have seen the high prices that classics with a Ford badge now command.

It is sad that apparently Morris does not seem to have the same cachet.

https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/1966-Morris-Minor-Project-/183061294007.

£1000 (roughly $1380 or €1120) was the starting bid and apparently the reserve was not met.

I can find no trace of it being listed again. So it looks like the seller gave up due to lack of interest, or decided to sell it elsewhere.

This gives the sale value for a good one at £4600: https://www.hagertyinsurance.co.uk/price-guide/1966-Morris-Minor (roughly $6348 or €5152).

So they are not immensely valuable, and restoring a bad one can soon absorb all that money. (Think of the time to weld, fill, prime, and ultimately spray a car for example).

It appears that the desirable Morris Minor models are the convertible, van, and pickup. Sadly this is not one of those.

On the upside the seller seems to have a large list of parts (only some of which were listed in the advert).

He states that “everything needed to finish the project” is included. This encompasses “over £1300 worth of new parts” (approx. $1794 or €1456). This includes a complete clutch, brakes with all new pipes, and the original 1048 engine (in bits). There is also a choice of 2 other engines a 948 and a 1048.

I seem to remember that these cars are not about to tear the tarmac up at Santa Pod. So the bigger engine the better is probably the answer.

Given the similarity with a Mini engine I wonder whether a 1.3 from a Metro might not be a better choice in fact.

The seller also mentions that there is “2 maybe 3 radiators, a few front grills, spare fibre glass wings, original interior, steel exhaust”. There are some other parts which he hasn’t described here. (Further details are available on request).

So let’s look at her then

Sadly this is the maximum size image (of the complete car) available. I take it this is from sometime in the past in any case as later pictures seem to indicate that it is now in pieces.

The advert refers to a chassis rebuild being needed. I’m guessing by the brake junction in the foreground that we are looking at the engine bay. As these things go it isn’t as bad as it could be. But it does indicate why the car will need to be “trailered away”.

I’m no Morris genius but there appears to be fairly substantial holes where I’m sure metal should be. So I think a deal of time with a welding set would have been in someone’s future (had there been any interest).

This looks like another close up on a section of chassis with behind it, I’m guessing, a box with engine parts. It looks like an oil pickup pipe from the sump (presumably of this car).

I’m not convinced much of this steel is recoverable looking at it. One hopes that spare chassis sections can be obtained (unless any prospective buyer is also a genius at metal-fabrication work).

I suppose on the upside there is no evidence of previous bodges. (That is probably fairly remarkable in a 52 year old car). But there is a fair amount to make or find when you have holes that size to fix.

I assume this is also engine bay. In the foreground – washer bottle at the rear – gearbox bellhousing. Some of these sections look like they might not be perforated. They might stand cleaning up (unless that is my habitual over-optimism with rusty things).

Given the presence of a battery terminal connector this is also engine bay and by the looks of it a close up shot of the chassis leg. This doesn’t look too bad as these things go. It may even tolerate cleaning up.

It looks like we are now starting to look at spares. This looks like a grill surround with a wing visible behind it.

And here are those wings looking very intact in fact. Given he describes the wings as “fibreglass” this could well be why.

This looks like one of the engines he mentions.

This looks like the other engine. (Although I’m not sure how to tell which engine is the higher capacity of the two).

The only real shot of the actual car in its current state. There are some quite visible signs of rust through the window. Potentially much of the floor is also missing here.

There’s no doubting the work involved. However it does not look in the league of some of the cars we’ve seen. The difference here being the low values that these cars obviously attract in comparison to other cars of the same age.

I’m concerned that the seller states “I have tried to be as honest as I can”.

Surely as honest as feasible is absolutely honest? However he doesn’t pull any punches over his description: “it is a brave but very doable restoration”.

I guess anything is doable if you have the time, patience, skills and above all money to invest in it.

Sadly he is not well enough to complete the restoration himself having contracted throat cancer. I can imagine that an experience that difficult will be a life changing one. It is unlikely that when struck with cancer restoring a rusting car is at the forefront of your mind. We can hope that he has a full and successful recovery.

(We can also hope there is a brave Morris-orientated restorer out there. A restorer who has bought this car via a route that doesn’t involve the nation’s favourite auction site).

He states “I just don’t want to scrap it and resell all the parts”. This is laudable given that normally the parts are worth more than a car would sell for.

It doesn’t look like it has much history. He states that “I also have an original front section of a V5 when it was sold to another owner from 1995, but no other service history.”

That’s a shame I really love those stories of the years carefully cossetted (followed by the years of minimal cossetting).

Perhaps he got his way. He does state he would like to swap it for a motorhome. Still my experience of motorhomes is that they are quite good at holding their price.

This for example: https://www.marquisleisure.co.uk/motorhomes/stock-item/autocruise-starfire-el-37607 at £23,995 (approx $33113 or €26874).

That’s quite a lot of cash adjustment on a £1000 (roughly $1380 or €1120) car…

The car may have sold elsewhere. In which case if the buyer does read this blog in the future please let us know how you got on.

Let’s hope that the seller is doing well and that somewhere this car has a restorer humming away in his/her workshop of choice.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Credit to the property website from which the original idea (for Wreck of the Week) came:

http://www.wreckoftheweek.co.uk/

(Unlike that site, which is about houses, this series of blogs is and will be all about corrosion).

Narrative Vs Dialogue

Two stories both on the same subject to show the effects of Narrative vs. Dialogue.

From a course I did so long ago now that I can’t remember the context.

They’re here purely for your enjoyment and with no other explanation.

I hope that you like them.

Narrative

Elizabeth was a fool Jane knew it. They hadn’t been friends for twenty years without the realisation that Elizabeth was a weak-headed, softhearted, naïve fool.

Didn’t she, the mother have the greater insight into the workings of her daughters?

There were the startling, the mediocre and the downright alarming. Rebecca, the eldest – she had always been the exceptional one. Always knowing what she wanted to do. She planned her wedding for the best weekend of the year, a marvellous dress, a fantastic husband.

Then there was Ruth. Jane could feel the anger like a tiny pricking sensation already starting, just thinking about her.

Ruth, yes – she’d warned her – with every one of the dropout wasters she’d hung around with (and taken to bed) she’d warned her.

Now she was pregnant,, of course she hadn’t taken the time to tell her own mother, oh no.

A hasty wedding in October – at a registry office, a rush job at minimal expense – well this guy Richard was hardly the high-flyer, not like Rebecca’s husband.

Ruth had made a bad choice and it was obvious why. It was just to spite her mother. They’d never seen eye to eye and now she had chosen the one thing that she knew would really hurt.

Jane took pride in her family – liked to think that she’d instilled in them some old-fashioned values.

Rebecca had never hung around town late at night picking up boys – and what boys. The latest one had a tongue piercing – and a dotted line tattooed across his neck with a small pair of scissors labelled “cut here”.

What kind of guy was he this Richard? She doubted very much that Ruth even knew him very well. She knew he had a motorbike and was the sort of guy that Jane would despise. Jane would never welcome him into the family.

How better to hurt her mother than to marry him? Well it worked; all the years of spite and angst could not equal what she was doing this time.

If only Ruth wasn’t such a stubborn, wilful girl, she wouldn’t be dragging the family down in this way. Jane wished, not for the first time that she could disown her.

It was bad enough that she’d found them “at it” in her own bathroom but then to go and marry him? It was too much.

So what was Elizabeth going on about? The loose-minded woman. No doubt, she saw Ruth as another hard-luck case like an abandoned puppy or something.

No, Ruth had a lot of learning left and she, Jane was not going to shield her from any of it.

Dialogue

“Isn’t it the most perfect day Jane” Elizabeth gushed, her brow furrowed in concern.

“It’s October Elizabeth, who ever heard of a wedding in October? I may as well look around for thermal underwear” Jane was at her most caustic today. “Now, Rebecca, Rebecca; there’s a girl with sense, a June wedding, very sensible”

“As I recall Jane, you moaned all day that it was too hot and you were suffering from sunburn,” said Elizabeth archly.

“Hmmph well at least I didn’t have to go there looking like an Eskimo – it’s so unattractive.”

Elizabeth sighed inwardly and tried again “The weather is unseasonably warm Jane. Anyway I’m told the registry office is centrally heated”

“Office, yes office, why not a church?”

Elizabeth decided on a change of tack “Did you see the dress though Jane? She will look beautiful”

“I didn’t want to see it, it’s not as though it’s a wedding dress or anything. There won’t be a train or walking up the aisle will there?”

“I guess as long as she’s happy though?” Elizabeth’s voice squeaked with the effort of maintaining diplomacy.

“Happy, happy, what kind of selfish attitude is that? I give it six months, that’s all, six months”

“Richard seems a very nice lad” Elizabeth was tiring of the fight.

“If you don’t count the tongue piercing and the tattoos of course.”

“They all have those now I think”

“Well he isn’t tolerant enough for Ruth that’s for sure. I don’t think he’s had half enough time to realize what a vicious little wildcat she can be”

“What makes you think that, Jane? What evidence do you have?” Elizabeth, by now beaten decided to go with the flow.

“I’ll tell you why – she’s been going round like some old slapper. Mike last year, Derek six months ago and now Richard. Is it any surprise that she’s pregnant?”

Elizabeth gasped, “That’s a vicious thing to say, you’ve no evidence at all for that statement”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so naïve, she’s been hanging around him like a bitch in heat” Jane snapped.

“How can you say that about your own daughter?”

“You just have to look at her for God’s sake, how many brides do you know actually put on weight for their wedding?”

“I think you’ll find the dress size is exactly the same now as when she ordered it Jane.” Elizabeth was sounding exasperated. “You can’t just treat your daughter in this way Jane, you can’t. It will come back to haunt you if you do.”

Jane glared at her stubbornly “I have five daughters, Elizabeth, five and have any been so awful to me as this one? I don’t think so.”

“Ruth is a lovely girl, Jane, surely you see that” said Elizabeth, tears by now gleaming in her soft brown eyes.

Jane’s gaze was grey and piercing “I tell you, for all the pain this one has brought me, I wish I only had four daughters.”
If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Photo by Scott Webb from Pexels https://www.pexels.com/photo/wood-sign-arrow-blur-137596/

Prezzo St Neots

When: 01-01-2017

Where: Prezzo St Neots

Price: Free – it was a gift

Review: I find Prezzo to be reliably good whenever I go there

Tip: Wise to book – it can get busy prior to film showing times as the cinema is next door.

This is an old blog post that never got put in the correct place. This dates from a time when I saw the future as reviewing those experiences I was able to take in.

Shortly afterwards I determined that the time for the experiences took away from the time for writing the blog.

This and a few like it will have to stand as memories of that aim.

The last such post is here: https://magic-phil.co.uk/2017/02/20/fifty-special-things-thanh-binh-restaurant-cambridge/.

I had concluded that I would write no further reviews. That was until fellow blog writer Anthony reminded me that the 50 Special Things did not officially have an end. Two years later it would now be 52 special things in any case so I have plenty to review.

You can catch Anthony here: http://unofficialcambridgefilmfestival.blogspot.co.uk/ or tweet him here https://twitter.com/theagentapsley

It had been a few months since my resolution to fill my 50^th year with as many fun things as was feasible.

The visit to Prezzo St Neots was my suggestion. http://www.prezzorestaurants.co.uk/restaurant/st-neots/

The purpose: to celebrate my 50^th birthday with my family. The event was coming somewhat after the actual birthday date.

If one believes in horoscopes I was born under the sign of Libra. (Which should give you a clue).

The original resolution for “50 special things” was before my birthday in a meeting with my counsellor . (However it was embellished on my birthday whilst eating in a resort restaurant with my two friends Jacqui and Jon. (We were in Gaya in Malaysia). I suspect in some not too distant blog entry details of that will emerge.

The idea of 50 special things was to dispel the belief that a birthday is limited to one day per year. Limiting celebrations in this way is likely to be disappointing. Allowing the celebrations to last all year circumvents that problem.

The idea came through talking to my counsellor. In my experience counsellors are often the source of great advice.

I’m certain that not all great recommendations come from counsellors but in my experience many of the good ones do.

This is quite an awesome responsibility when deciding to embark upon the journey towards being a counsellor. (How do you come up with these good ideas).

As a volunteer counsellor myself I am not certain that I can measure up to that expectation.

A 50th birthday celebration at Prezzo. This was in the hope that gluten-free means less stomach aches the following day.

Prezzo have a pretty extensive gluten-free menu (other restaurants take note). This menu means that I have eaten there many times.

St Neots is the usual Prezzo venue due to the familiarity I have with eateries there. (I live within easy driving distance of St Neots).

(I seem to be a creature of habit who would like to be a creature of adventure).

Prezzo is usually a place that is highly-populated due to its proximity to the St Neots cinema. It has a hubbub akin to a football stadium.

New Year’s Day and all I needed was to sleep (after a night in an Indian restaurant – the site of our New Year’s Eve celebrations).

An Indian restaurant some bottles of wine a need for sleep the day after. (To anyone of average intellect that would not have been surprising).

So I am sat half-asleep in a restaurant with a surprisingly muted hubbub. Perhaps I was not alone in my post Chilean wine indulgence.

New Year’s Day certainly seemed to bring a falloff in demand for Prezzo culinary expertise.

It was hard to get enthusiastic when consumption of unsuitable food the night before meant a tsunami stomach ache. Besides enough gas to replenish the North Sea pipeline.

Despite this malaise I noticed that the service (by three waitresses) was excellent. They seemed to cope with a deficit of staff (no doubt brought on by the holiday season) without noticeable decline in delivery or positivity.

For some reason the menu was not filling me with joy (as it has on previous occasions). I wondered if there had been a recent redesign or possibly it was feeling green that did it.

When you’re trying to avoid incompatible-with-IBS foods risotto is usually a good standby. That is apart from those establishments that insist all risotto must contain peas.

Peas are great if you fancy spending a day or so on your own fumigating a greenhouse. With a stomach that feels like a space hopper with an overweight and restless kid on it.

Sadly my choice was only slightly less tolerable as it contained leek. Leek is fantastic for post-food onion-orientated fragrances (as beloved by no one).

King prawn risotto following a starter of gluten-free bread with balsamic onion dressing. I love onion but onion wages outright war on me. It starts with the intestines and continues on down.

For an IBS-sufferer like me rice and gluten-free gets my recommendation.

Fortunately I have not developed a dairy-intolerance. If you are unable to take the cheese in the risotto there are a few gluten free pastas. I do not tolerate tomato well so eat these when I’m feeling quite well before hand.

Desserts of ice cream are well-tolerated by me (with peppermint tea). (This means I get to socialise otherwise going out would be taxing – finding foods that don’t make me ill.)

After all of these precautions I opted for the chocolate drink. In my defence I read recently that dark chocolate helps stay the commencement of Alzheimer’s. (Dementia has been a theme in my family).

I would recommend Prezzo as a place to go if like me you tend to tolerate some foods poorly. The menu gives some options that I don’t see at other nearby restaurants.

Although Prezzo is busy the service tends to be swift. The staff are pleasant despite having a huge number of tables to attend upon.

I tend to visit this restaurant every few months. So far the only down side is that the background volume in there can get elevated. In other respects I choose Prezzo over the alternatives.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Wreck of the Week

This week I was musing on the title “Rust in Peace”. (I think some classic car magazines have used this as a title for photographs of nostalgic/rusty collections they feature).

This led me to find the following Facebook page (via a well-known search engine):

https://www.facebook.com/Kevins-Rust-in-Peace-1518931078411009/

This might be of interest if you love American automotive history.

If anyone finds anything similar for British cars (or even European cars) please share (and I will put it into a future post).

Recently my Uncle sent me the following YouTube video. It must belong here even if it doesn’t feature one wreck of the week but many:

This is 7 minutes of heart-break. For I have known so many of these cars and there seems no way to contact the current owners to ask if they will sell one of them to me.

The first scene opens at MacLeod Limited of Skye; this seems a great lead until I find that Skye is the home of the clan MacLeod, so there must be many – many MacLeod limited of Skye.

Here we find not just lost cars but lost makes of cars. Hillman for example – at one stage a well-loved brand but no more, similarly Austin, Humber, Singer, Sunbeam…

The cars highlighted are:

Nissan 300ZX 1983

1979 Nissan 280ZX

1961 Austin A40 Farina MKII (I have a friend with a 1966 version)

1970 Wolseley 1300 (for years I drove past a garden that had one of these permanently parked as it gradually corroded away)

1964 Humber Sceptre MKI

1966 Humber Sceptre MKII

1971 Humber Sceptre MKIII

1965 Singer Vogue Estate (which must be a very rare car indeed)

1964 Singer Gazelle V

1960 Sunbeam Rapier Series III

1961 Hillman Super Minx MK IV (my Dad had one)

1960 Hillman Husky Series II

1969 Hillman Imp

1966 Hillman Imp (my sister had one)

1972 Hillman Hunter GL

1973 Hillman Hunter GL Estate

1966 Ford Thames 307E (I haven’t seen one of these anywhere else)

1954 Ford Consul MKI

1962 Ford Anglia

1964 Ford Consul Capri (this is quite a valuable car now)

1964 Ford Cortina MKI

1963 Ford Cortina MKI

1966 Ford Cortina MKII

1970 Ford Cortina MKIII

1979 Ford Escort MKII

1955 Vauxhall Cresta EIP

1962 Vauxhall Victor FB Estate

1961 Vauxhall Victor FB Estate

1962 Vauxhall FX 4-90 FB

1957 Vauxhall Velox EOPV

1958 Vauxhall Velox PA S Saloon

1959 Vauxhall Velox

1962 Vauxhall Velox PA SX

1959 Vauxhall Cresta PA

1960 Vauxhall Cresta PA

1962 Vauxhall Cresta PA

1968 Volkswagen Beetle

1967 Volkswagen Beetle 1500

1970 Morris Minor 1000 Van (a van which judging by the nation’s favourite auction site is in high demand right now)

1967 Morris Minor 1000 pickup (I’d love one)

1961 Morris Minor 1000

1953 Morris Minor 1000

1953 Morris Minor 1000 series I tourer

1979 Morris Marina (as so loathed by Jeremy Clarkson)

1967 Morris Mini (a Morris Mini no less before Mini was a brand in itself)

1969 British Leyland Mini

1968 Morris 1100 MKII

I wanted to gather them all up (like some abandoned puppies) and take them all home with me.

But mostly I was tearful for times lost that can never be again.

However, as my uncle pointed out, people really want a car that you can start and run with lowest cost and maintenance. A 1969 car is not going to offer you that. Even in a 1976 car – starting was something of an art. Roadside repairs were also not unknown.

These mostly look very restorable. But given the video was posted in September 2017 there is every chance they have gone the way of many other unearthed collections. (In that they are now the raw materials for a Chinese fridge).

If anyone reading this knows of their fate I would be interested to know.

However this is Wreck of the Week. Whilst nostalgia is great for the soul we are here to examine corrosion. And outlandish prices paid for the steel carriages of yesteryear.

Some American muscle this week, or some parts of it in any case. (What is a part of a muscle? – meat perhaps.)

https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/FORD-MUSTANG-67-V8/192428828718

£2550 seems a very sensible bid and well below the kinds of prices I’ve seen cars of this type fetching.

This one for example is asking $45,000: https://classiccars.com/listings/view/1067958/1967-ford-mustang-for-sale-in-mesa-arizona-85204 (roughly £33582 or €36585).

The devil as always with these things is in the detail; what did our lucky purchaser get for his 2 ½ thousand pounds (roughly $3417 or €2882).

The upsides are it’s a coupé (which is desirable as a body style). The seller vouches for the solidity of the “body tub” (whatever that is worth). And some of the seats remain.

The downsides are it’s an automatic (manual is preferred – at least in the UK). It has no dashboard. Some of the seats are missing. There is no V5; no NOVA; no title; no import paperwork. (It sounds like a nightmare to register with the DVLA).

Of course you also need to deal with a car that recently emerged from the swamp. Carrying swamp detritus like some creature in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

I’m not the seller but unless the moss is performing some structural function I think I might have power washed that off before listing it:

I suppose this is now what is described as an “honest” listing. i.e. nothing has been made of the car and there are no attempts to spruce it up, including clean it evidently.

All the tyres are flat, but those alloys are not the most in keeping with the character (unless you want to race it). Look again at the expensive one for an example of what I mean https://classiccars.com/listings/view/1067958/1967-ford-mustang-for-sale-in-mesa-arizona-85204

In its favour all of the rust looks to be surface-rust. So it may not require the intercession of a man with knowledge of the arcane art of sticking two bits of metal together.

If the original colour was that blue then it seems a charming choice, but given the range of shades visible who knows.

The front wing arch lip has a split in it. Miraculously the rear arch seems to have escaped so rescue might come just in time.

Well I’ve got to say if I were being followed by something looking like that along the M5 I would be tempted to make like Shaggy and Scooby. (And not after the Scooby snacks).

It is in fact barely more than a shell. It looks like it has been raced – holes for bonnet pins are in evidence. (Unless these were drilled there by someone for the effect only).

The screen surround looks remarkably intact given its overall appearance. I think I might have been tempted (but then my thinking is on the romantic side of sensible).

The rear wheel arch has corroded through here. It’s hard to tell at this magnification but the front wheel arch possibly as well.

Given the state of the rest of the car it is surprising that the rear lamp clusters seem all present and correct. Whether the internals have survived corrosion is anybody’s guess.

The rear screen is present and as we saw passenger door glass is present. It is odd that the driver’s door glass and the windscreen did not survive then.

The drilling on the driver’s side wing – not replicated on the passenger side wing – seems to mark a long-lost aerial. I thought perhaps a wing mirror but the door mirrors survive. Usually holes of this type are where the crusting starts so this one is pleasingly intact.

The roof thus far seems to be subject just to surface rust. Parts of the rain gutter though could be getting a bit close. There also seems to be sill damage just ahead of the driver’s side door.

On the face of it I would have limited confidence that much could be rescued except for the metalwork.

In fact the front wing on this side is in better condition than on the other side. This wing (barring possibly welding up the old aerial hole) might be saveable. (They might both have to be saveable – dependent upon availability of parts for these cars. Fifty years is a long time in parts sales).

A V8 engine employing that well known corrosion inhibitor – a damp old pink towel. Thank goodness someone thought of that. Either that or it is the latest in free flowing air filter design and I’m revealing my (no doubt massive) ignorance on the subject.

This engine seems to have received much more recent attention than the rest of the vehicle. Aside from the distributor – it appears in great condition. This reinforces the idea that the engine was the most important part of the car.

This is what you would see in a race car. A body made of Papier-mâché, an engine made of volcano.

The oil filter canister corrosion says it’s been stood for a while. But perhaps not so long that a refresh of the internals (a rebore/regrind so-on) might not see it run again.

Wow that looks like it’s made a permanent home in the forest floor. But I believe what we are seeing is a sorry-looking gearbox in the interior of the car. This was home to Squirrel Nutkin more recently than to the bum of a keen driver I’m thinking.

One hopes that the oil is still in the interior of the gearbox and that water isn’t. Outside appearances seem to indicate an expensive rebuild could be on the cards.

No sign I notice of the seats or the state of any other part of the interior.

Probably safe to assume they are all completely wrecked then.

Well wow, I would not have expected that. This looks like an intact underside. Some consistent elbow grease, a DA and a quantity of sanding disks might just be able to resurrect it. It’s quite awe inspiring when you have seen the rest of it.

(Conceivably I’ve been overcome by appearances. If you are more Eagle-eyed do point out the crumbling bits which I have missed.)

This is presumably the chassis number which confirms that this is a genuine V8 (at least to those in the know).

What I can’t get over is how primitive it looks, to be honest. If you had knowledge of chassis number sequences and a set of number punches. It looks like you could rig up a facsimile of this in an afternoon on a spare sheet of steel and stitch it in.

No doubt no one is doing that, but it does make you think.

Well given how little is there I hope that parts availability is top-notch for a 1967 Mustang. In the interests of the brave soul who purchased it I also hope that parts prices are on the inexpensive side (you’re going to need a lot of them).

Well my hat off to the man, woman or child who has taken this on. Should you have meandered across this blog do leave a comment about what you intend to/have done to the car.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Credit to the property website from which the original idea (for Wreck of the Week) came:

http://www.wreckoftheweek.co.uk/

(Unlike that house-orientated site, this series of blogs is about elderly vehicles).

Photo by jamie r. mink on Unsplash

Privacy – A How-To Guide

There can be few people alive now who have not heard about Edward Snowden.

He is a marmite character hailed as a hero by some and a pariah requiring execution by others.

I realised that in my Gravatar profile I state: “Keen on privacy and IT Security. A volunteer counsellor. I use blogging to improve my writing.” There has been a few blog items on writing and the odd one related to counselling but except for the EXIF article precious little in support of privacy.

Snowden showed us that if you decide to put something on the Internet it is not private anymore. (No matter how much security you imagine protects it).

Security services have techniques that can read information, often when we believed that information was protected.

Information that you put on the Internet today, believing it to be secure, is exposed in a security breach tomorrow.

Some people believe that this is fair enough, if you decide to put a nude selfie online for example then on your head be it.

This article is not for them.

Still reading? Ok, well there are some basic steps that you can take which will protect you. Some more advanced steps you can take if you are very keen on privacy. There are also steps you should take if your life depends on privacy (which is sadly not unfamiliar to some activists in the world today).

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/improve-internet-privacy_n_6902622

https://www.theregister.co.uk/2015/11/12/snowden_guide_to_practical_privacy/

Mobile Phones Mobile Phones – transmit a great deal of information about you. they are used by shops to track your purchasing preferences. They still transmit information even when you have turned location services off.
If you are in the group that really needs to protect your privacy faraday bags for phones do work.If you like your privacy but your life isn’t likely to be in danger over it – turn on location services only when you need it.

Similarly turn off Bluetooth and wireless when they are not in use.Better still if you do not want to be tracked leave the phone at home.

Encrypt Encryption uses mathematics to render the information inaccessible to anyone other than the people you want to have access.However encryption does not solve all problems.There is some evidence that some encryption has been circumvented. .However encryption will defeat prying eyes in the majority of cases.
You can encrypt your phone .You can encrypt the hard drive on your laptop.

You can use encrypted file storage online .

Encrypted Apps – Use encrypted alternatives to text messages. The recommended system here is an app called Signal which is as easy to use as any text message system.

Unique Passwords – Make certain that every website you log into has a unique password.
Breaches in passwords happen every day.

A breach is when a company loses the usernames and passwords of its customers onto the Internet. Criminals then get hold of these details and attempt to log into as many websites as they can. It takes criminals minutes to do this it can take many years before a company is aware of the leak.

Password Managers – maintaining a different password for each login (for every website) is a discipline that is sometimes beyond the memory of the average individual. This means that you really must use a password manager.
Password Managers store all your passwords in one place and you only need to remember the one password – the one to access the password manager.

I use KeePass . It is a standalone password manager (in that it is not integrated with your browser).This reduces functionality a little but increases security a lot. (With all your passwords in one place you do want the solution to be secure).

Use two-factor authentication. Remember I said that passwords are leaked onto the internet every day? How do you stop a criminal logging in when you don’t know that your password is already out there?
Make certain logging on to your account takes more than a password.

A number of sites permit use of two-factor authentication. Usually this means that after you add your username and password you get a text on your mobile phone giving you a code that you also need to enter.This small amount of extra effort can have a big effect on your security.

Use a VPN service that cloaks your location.Every ISP has a list of addresses that they hand out to their clients. This means that when you browse the Internet others on the Internet can determine which ISP you use. In many cases this gives a good approximation of where you are accessing the Internet from.In addition every piece of browsing behaviour goes through a link provided by your ISP who has a log of your activity. The only way to disguise your activity from your ISP is to have a tool that uses an encrypted tunnel to hide what you’re are doing.
This can be a VPN , use of ToR browser or using ToR browser over a VPN .

A VPN creates a tunnel between you and a VPN Provider.

The problem with this is that it moves the keeping track of your actions from your ISP to your VPN provider.

You therefore need a VPN provider that undertakes not to track your actions.

For the truly privacy conscious use ToR.

https://lifehacker.com/what-is-tor-and-should-i-use-it-1527891029.

ToR is not a panacea but it does make it much more difficult to trace any actions back to you. ToR is a technology that sends the messages you use to communicate on the Internet through a very convoluted route, making it very difficult to trace.

Of course it is far easier to keep something private if you do not share it in the first place. If you share something which would have consequences (if it became public) then perhaps sharing it is not wise. Don’t depend for example on Facebook privacy settings. It is known that people use Facebook to monitor and to trap the unwary.

Don’t put your holiday destination into Facebook until after you have returned.

It is really a bad idea to exchange nude photographs. Can you really be certain that the picture won’t turn up later on in a context which you might not like?

Many sites allow recovery of your account if you supply personal details about yourself. This means that they allow you access after you share with them a secret that they know about you. A favourite is Mother’s maiden name for example. If you forget your password – you supply your mother’s maiden name – you get to reset your password.

If that information (your mother’s maiden name) is on the Internet already (say on social media) it is no longer a secret. Criminals can use this information too.

Firstly be careful what you share. Secondly if you are asked for a secret that can be used to reset your account – lie. If your dog is called Fido and the recovery question is “pet’s name” use ”jambalaya” for example (don’t do that – it’s in the Internet now so people know it – make up your own version and keep it secret).

Once you have created a lie make sure you record it somewhere offline (say in the password manager) so if you need to recover the account you can remember what lie it was that you told them.

Make certain that you use the HTTPS version of a website (most sites have a HTTPS version now). The HTTPS-everywhere add-on can do this for you. HTTPS uses secure communication and hence is more secure to use than HTTP.

Adverts on the Internet have been the source of a great many attacks. Wherever possible use an ad-blocker. This also makes it harder for sites to track your behaviour and use it to bombard you with ads.

It is known that search engines like Google mine your information in order to sell it to advertising companies. One way to obviate this is to use an alternative search engine that does not log your behaviour. The best known of these is DuckDuckGo.

If you are one of the people whose life depends on your privacy then this article is not going to be cautious enough for you.

ToR is a good start. There are also guides as to how compartmentalise your life. There are guides about how to communicate with journalists. Encrypted email solutions exist and should be considered. Even operating systems designed to preserve security.

However it would be remiss of me to advise about these given my life has never been at risk because of a lack of privacy. You must gauge the level of risk and apply appropriate precautions.

For everyone else these few steps can make a big difference.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

The Writing Manifesto

This was something unique to one of the courses. I had never before come across the idea of having a writing manifesto. This is a declaration – public usually of your policy and aims. Presumably any such declaration is going to be a forceful lever motivating you in your desired direction in this case writing).

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/grammarly/write-manifesto_b_5575496.html.

It’s a good idea before writing a manifesto of your own to look at manifestos that others have written for example:

The Futurists Italy 1909

Manifesto of Futurism

We intend to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and fearlessness.
Courage, audacity, and revolt will be essential elements of our poetry.
Up to now literature has exalted a pensive immobility, ecstasy, and sleep. We intend to exalt aggressive action, a feverish insomnia, the racer’s stride, the mortal leap, the punch and the slap.
We affirm that the world’s magnificence has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing car whose hood is adorned with great pipes, like serpents of explosive breath—a roaring car that seems to ride on grapeshot is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.
We want to hymn the man at the wheel, who hurls the lance of his spirit across the Earth, along the circle of its orbit.
The poet must spend himself with ardor, splendor, and generosity, to swell the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.
Except in struggle, there is no more beauty. No work without an aggressive character can be a masterpiece. Poetry must be conceived as a violent attack on unknown forces, to reduce and prostrate them before man.
We stand on the last promontory of the centuries!… Why should we look back, when what we want is to break down the mysterious doors of the Impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We already live in the absolute, because we have created eternal, omnipresent speed.
We will glorify war—the world’s only hygiene—militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of freedom-bringers, beautiful ideas worth dying for, and scorn for woman.
We will destroy the museums, libraries, academies of every kind, will fight moralism, feminism, every opportunistic or utilitarian cowardice.
We will sing of great crowds excited by work, by pleasure, and by riot; we will sing of the multicolored, polyphonic tides of revolution in the modern capitals; we will sing of the vibrant nightly fervor of arsenals and shipyards blazing with violent electric moons; greedy railway stations that devour smoke-plumed serpents; factories hung on clouds by the crooked lines of their smoke; bridges that stride the rivers like giant gymnasts, flashing in the sun with a glitter of knives; adventurous steamers that sniff the horizon; deep-chested locomotives whose wheels paw the tracks like the hooves of enormous steel horses bridled by tubing; and the sleek flight of planes whose propellers chatter in the wind like banners and seem to cheer like an enthusiastic crowd.

The New Puritan Manifesto

Primary storytellers, we are dedicated to the narrative form.
We are prose writers and recognise that prose is the dominant form of expression. For this reason we shun poetry and poetic licence in all its forms.
While acknowledging the value of genre fiction, whether classical or modern, we will always move towards new openings, rupturing existing genre expectations.
We believe in textual simplicity and vow to avoid all devices of voice: rhetoric, authorial asides.
In the name of clarity, we recognise the importance of temporal linearity and eschew flashbacks, dual temporal narratives and foreshadowing.
We believe in grammatical purity and avoid any elaborate punctuation.
We recognise that published works are also historical documents. As fragments of our time, all our texts are dated and set in the present day. All products, The Introduction to The New Puritan Generation 15 places, artists and objects named are real.
As faithful representations of the present, our texts will avoid all improbable or unknowable speculation about the past or the future.
We are moralists, so all texts feature a recognisable ethical reality.
Nevertheless, our aim is integrity of expression, above and beyond any commitment to form.

A Writer’s Manifesto

I guess my most important aim is to entertain.

First commandment of popular fiction of any kind is (as the lovely Claudia Carroll once said): Thou shalt not bore. Quite right too.

Second aim – to say something.

I know this sounds a little vague but sometimes I read books that don’t actually say anything. They just potter along, telling a nice story, but not really going anywhere. I think books should have something solid rooted at the heart of them – a theme if you like. Sometimes that theme doesn’t make itself fully known until you finish the 1st or 2nd or even the 3rd draft, but it’s often bubbling away under the surface of your words, slowly rising to the surface. For example in the first Amy Green book I wanted to tell readers it’s OK to be yourself. In fact it’s pretty darn cool to be yourself. It’s a theme that runs through all the Amy Green books.

My third aim is to write with passion and with confidence.

I’ve been writing for many years now and I’ve started to understand what both these things really mean and how important they are. Write without passion and you’re doomed. The confidence bit – that can be learned over time. But if you write with both passion and confidence – then you might just have a pretty good book on your hands.

Tips for Producing a Manifesto

What are your aims when you write?
What symbols reoccur in writing?
Prose vs poetry?
What do you want to glorify?
What do you want to eschew?
What do you believe in?
What do you declare?

The manifesto is a mechanism for recognising why author’s write.

A manifesto is a declaration of intent – a public declaration of policy and aims. It will help your focus as you need to know why it is that you are writing.

A manifesto states what is important to you in your writing. The best place for your manifesto is on the wall somewhere you can see it to remind you why you are writing. In the first place the manifesto is for you.

At the time the manifesto I came up with was this:

Phil’s Manifesto

I write to enjoy the process

I write to enjoy the output for myself

I write so that other people will read my writing and will get enjoyment from reading it

I want to make a living from writing

I am keen to write novels

I will write of things in psychology that interest me

I will write of people in conflict with themselves or with others

I will write of people who escape “real life”

I will write attacks on the mundane, the boring, the routine

I will write prose rather than poetry

I will glorify freedom and escape

I will write of people with complex thought patterns

I will write of people who are small and boring

I will write about anyone who is protesting

I will eschew tediousness and boredom

I will eschew too much sanity or saneness

I will eschew routine

I will eschew “real life”

I wish to be published – a real book with paper not an e-book or a blog

I believe in rebellion as a method for change

I believe in not sticking to the status quo

However all these years later I think I would make a few changes to this manifesto now. Perhaps if there is sufficient interest I will write a new one.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

The Neighbours from Hell

I have been fascinated for a long time in stories about Hell.

On one of the writing courses one of the tutors suggested that we write a story about a neighbour from hell who was literally from hell. (As I mentioned in my earlier post https://magic-phil.co.uk/2018/02/13/on-the-theme-of-hell/)

For some reason this has captured my imagination and over time I have created different stories on this theme.

This is the first of these. Many of them are quite old now and I would rework them today.

But here it is unadulterated in case you like it.

Perhaps this will encourage me to produce more of the same in which case watch this space.

Story

Hi, I’m David and I’m a servant of the Devil.

Of course it isn’t obvious to look at me, I’m a balding middle aged civil servant but nonetheless I am Beelzebub’s man so to speak. It started when we moved to a small estate in Tunbridge Wells. I had never liked the place from the beginning. But the price was right and Deirdre; yes, Deirdre just had to have the place.

It’s comfortable enough in a boring suburban way but any place that has a fridge and a sofa would suffice for me. Deirdre though has to maintain “standards.” That started almost the first day. We had only recently moved in when Deirdre started on about meeting the neighbours.

“You should meet them David, you never know if he might be something important in The City, it doesn’t harm to network”

Frankly I couldn’t see the point in this, I’ve worked as a Junior Civil Servant for twenty years now and I see no obvious break in that career coming anytime soon.

“We should show we are good neighbours David, Go next door and introduce us.”

I noticed the “us” in that sentence and the very final ring to it. A decision had been made, and I was to be the one to implement it. I didn’t even dare sigh. I shed the carpet slippers with regret – I had just got comfortable with The Sunday Times (one of my rare pleasures).

I am not naturally an outgoing person, I would happily leave the neighbours to themselves, however Deirdre had spoken. (I am more frightened of Deirdre than the unknown quantity of the neighbours).

The house from a distance looked exactly like ours. It looked comfortable four-bedroomed detached with a beautiful white picket fence and a tidy arbour over a tiny front gate.

However as I approached the road appeared to darken and clouds began to gather. The gate began to look horribly distant when previously it had been mere feet from mine. I paused uncertainly. The charming arbour with red English rose seemed to be writhing like a nest of snakes. The pleasant curving aspect of a moment ago now seemed to me a gaunt gothic archway. I felt the challenge of the few steps to be too much. Something was definitely wrong.

However into my head rushed the vision of Deirdre: if I returned without having performed my little “task”. The glare, the folded arms, that stare which told me what a pointless little individual I truly was. I shuddered and then hastened on.

The tiny white gate now seemed to be of rusty iron (how strange what a change in perspective can do). And the picket fence I noticed also iron – it reminded me uncomfortably of the cage surrounding a Victorian grave.

I girded myself for the short walk to the door. This was ridiculous I told myself – a perfectly charming little place. As I pulled, open the gate to a sound like wood tortured by a gale I distinctly heard the tolling of a resonant bell but from a great distance. The grass surrounding the path swirled and twisted as if animated with menace, which seemed odd. When I had set off the day was fine and clear – mere seconds ago. It was as if the garden had weather of its own. I realised that I had closed my eyes against the “illusion”. As I opened them, I recognised that I had been wrong all along, the garden was dead, dry and brown, dusty grass bordered by dried out stumps of a herb garden. I mused that they certainly needed to get the gardener in.

I hastened to the door – a plain white UPVC door with a faux brass knocker. At last, I thought something sensible to latch onto. I lifted the knocker and was amazed at its extreme weight and that it appeared to be hot like a pie direct from the oven. I flinched immediately and the knocker fell with an enormous clash like hammer meeting anvil.

The door slowly swung inwards as if assisted from behind. I could feel the sweat beads – clammy in my armpits and cold as they trickled down my ribcage. “Hello is there anybody there”.

It must be a shy child, that’s it, hiding behind the door, that’s what it is. I could feel myself trembling just a little. But the vision of Deirdre firmly in my mind I stepped in.

The door slammed immediately shut behind me with a sound more normally associated with a massive door of oak closing on a vast frame. I think I would complain to the double-glazing company I reflected whilst peering around what appeared to be an unusually vast hall.

Nothing at all like ours, I couldn’t even see the ceiling and the dining-room door seemed an impossibly long distance away.

Odd that they have the heating on, I remember thinking. So strange in July, it’s like a real oven in here. I could feel my white shirt become transparent as it fixed itself firmly to my spine – pulling it free was pointless. It was more humid than a rainforest. The neighbour must grow tropical plants I thought to myself.

“Hello, hello, I’m David; I’m your new neighbour”

I could hear the trembling highness of my voice. I really did not want to be here any longer than I had to. A quick hello and then go I assured myself.

I stepped into the impossibly long hall and perceived in the distance a standard hardboard-faced door. Very retro I thought, time they had a man in to replace that. The door seemed completely smooth and gleamed an impossible brilliance of white.

In front of it gyrating and jumping a Chihuahua. It appeared to be a Chihuahua at any rate. The yapping also had a familiar tone to it (Deirdre’s mother owns one; she says it is more fun to live with than her ex-husband ever was). I’ve always hated them; they seem perfectly capable of inflicting a very painful wound only to be swept up by the doting owner as if you had hurt them.

This one was strange though, it must have been the odd lighting but I could swear it seemed to have three heads!

The dining room door swung inwards with a scraping noise like stone dragged across massive stone. This chap must be a sound effects man I thought, quite amazing the effects he can produce. Well I sighed, that lets down Deirdre’s view of a chap in the city.

As I peered forwards (still apparently some yards from the doorway), I noticed their obscure taste in carpets. From this distance the red and grey carpet appeared like hot coals.

I halted, unsure what to do next, I was trespassing in somebody else’s house. That bothered me quite a bit. But the house was doing strange things to my mind. That bothered me quite a bit more. I am not naturally courageous. (I’ve lived with Deirdre too long for that). This was beyond my threshold for fear by one hundred percent.

I could almost feel a sense of panic rise within me.

Then a voice both sweet and soothing spoke directly into my ear as if the owner was stood right beside me.

“Mr Blythe, do come in, have a drink”

I didn’t remember to jump, I didn’t remember to be afraid, I couldn’t remember ever mentioning my name. I felt so relaxed so calm suddenly. Some distant voice was yelling “you’re in mortal danger, leave, leave now”. But that was only from inside my own head, I wasn’t about to pay attention to that when I could listen to this beautiful voice right here.

I turned slowly and looked straight into feral eyes. Not human, more like a cat, devoid of any emotion, yet somehow echoing back concern and charm. Subconsciously I was thinking I bet this man could con his way into the royal mint. The face smiled, a smile without warmth, like the gape of a large carnivore.

I couldn’t remember moving, but I was sitting, relaxed in a very comfortable high-back chair. A glass of something was positioned conveniently by my right hand. The light was terrible everywhere in this house I determined. The glass seemed to hold a half pint of steaming blood (or at least blood colour liquid). Revolving slowly at the top of the glass appeared to be a large eyeball, which turned and fixed me with a baleful stare. I set the glass slowly on the floor to hide it. I did not wish to offend my host.

I hadn’t seen him, concealed as he was in shadows just opposite me in a chair very like the one I was occupying. Somehow, his chair seemed vast in comparison with mine though, fully ten times the size. I couldn’t imagine how I could have looked into his eyes only moments before. Oh, this is ridiculous I told myself.

“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, I’m David”

“Ah, yes, I know”

“Right, Right” I mentally tried to recall if we had met previously but I failed utterly. I shivered.

“Yes well I’ve just moved in next door”

“More Deirdre’s choice than yours wasn’t it”

So he knew my wife as well? “Sorry?”

“More Deirdre’s choice, you never liked the area?”

I recalled the first visit – even the drive up to the house had felt uncomfortable – I put it down to a head cold, but nonetheless I had been very glad to leave.

“Yes I suppose more Deirdre’s choice,” I mumbled

“I am just a piece of folklore of course”

“Of course, of course…………………………………………………………………what?”

“A piece of folklore, people can’t actually see The Devil”

“The what? Sorry I thought I heard you describe yourself as the…”

“Devil, yes of course, but I am just a series of ideas, not a ‘thing’ as such”

“So how……..?”

“How can you see me?”

His eyes flashed yellow and at the same time, a stream of images began to play in my head. I began to realise that Hell was not a place beneath the tarmac after all.

I had been living in it for the past forty-five years.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog

Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

Failure

Throughout my life I have liked writing, but I have never understood writing.

Someone my age once said that she felt that during our time in the school system there had been some great social experiment in which the basic rules of punctuation and grammar were avoided as if we would ingrain them though some process of osmosis.

Certainly I can only remember being told to add a full stop when I needed to breathe and commas were just little breaks in between.

As for concepts like verbs and adjectives I remember a conversation about doing words at one stage but little else. So in many ways I am ill-prepared for a blog, a book or anything involving the written word.

So it is that when reading that this offends people http://theeditorsblog.net/2016/12/19/please-learn-the-rules/ I feel like a failure.

I considered that a person writing a blog should try to understand something about writing. The only method that I can conceive of is to read accounts written by other people who have tried it. To this end subscribing to blogs written by people who have been writing for some time seemed an obvious avenue.

It is surprising therefore how often these successful bloggers start to write about failure.

For example:

https://writetodone.com/10-ways-to-stop-feeling-like-a-failure-as-a-writer/

It seems that failure is a pain that can afflict those who genuinely know nothing and those who really should be feeling great about their success.

I read a great deal about counselling now. (I need to do this because I am a volunteer counsellor). Failure is something that will feature in this reading.

Attitudes to failure can be shaped by a person’s upbringing. But no counselling literature I have encountered maintains that anyone is a failure. Hence when working with someone who perceives themselves to be a failure the first technique is encouragement.

I studied Adlerian Counselling and I think that some quotes from Alfred Adler may be relevant here:

“No experience is in itself a cause of success or failure. … We are not determined by our experiences but are self-determined by the meaning that we give to them”.

“No one need remain inescapably bound by the limitations of their brains all their life”

“We will always find in all human beings this dominant theme running through their lives – the struggle to rise from an inferior position to a superior position, from defeat to victory”

Photo by Alex Smith from Pexels https://www.pexels.com/photo/naked-baby-sitting-813616/

It seems however that fear of failure is not constant throughout a person’s life. For example children learn to walk and in the process fall over many times. However this is not seen as a barrier to learning to walk.

Similarly on the way to becoming adept at speech children make mistakes and this causes them no pain. I remember that my Nephew said ominge for a while on the way to saying orange.

There is no doubt many paths from a child that embraces failure to an adult that has to get it right first time.

High standards (either from parents or schools or some combination) may have had a role to play.

“Over-parenting” may teach a child that they are incapable.

The simple act of labelling a person as a failure becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; worse still if the label is derogatory.

For this reason I dislike the term “loser”. A label such as “loser” is easy to apply but is going to discourage the person it is applied to.

A person is not a failure. They can fail to perform a specific task but that does not make them intrinsically a failure.

In fact each failure is a chance to learn and to apply the learning when you try again.

Photo by Amaury Salas on Unsplash

Many enlightened businesses now embrace failure as a fact of life.

Some regard failure as a pathway to success; if you haven’t succeeded yet then you haven’t failed enough.

Fear of failure can lead to undesirable side effects such as perfectionism and procrastination.

Fear of failure can lead to avoidant behaviour. Whilst avoiding the problem alleviates the fear it also removes any chance at having the experience. This ultimately means that you have no chance to succeed.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

The only way to develop as a writer is to fail. I have no doubt that in some years I will look back on the items I blogged today and wonder at how inelegant they were.
But unless I keep on trying I will never get the chance to get to a better place with my writing.
The lessons of a child are the ones we need to recapture; it’s ok to fall over when you’re trying to walk. Later you can get up and have another try.

If you liked this article why not follow this blog
Follow The Procrastination Pen on WordPress.com

https://www.adler.edu/page/about/history/about-alfred-adler
https://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2014/06/23/why-we-all-have-fear-of-failure/
http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/overcome_fear_of_failure_be_aware_and_take_action
https://amotherfarfromhome.com/how-to-erase-your-childs-fear-of-messing-up/
http://thebrainflux.com/how-fear-of-failure-affects-learning/
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/sep/05/parenting-tomorrow-why-should-let-children-fail
http://opencommons.uconn.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1074&context=srhonors_theses
https://www.empoweringparents.com/article/loser-how-labels-stick-to-your-child-and-affect-behavior/
https://willyac.wordpress.com/everyday-articles/dont-fear-failure/
https://www.arrkgroup.com/thought-leadership/fail-fast-fail-often-explained/
https://webstandardssherpa.com/reviews/breaking-the-perfectionism-procrastination-infinite-loop/
https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/overcoming-self-sabotage/201005/avoidance-anxiety-self-sabotage-how-running-away-can-bite-you