Well known typing error...

This big house has just come onto the market at a cool £1,675,000, and I hope it sells well for several reasons.

It was the first private house Scrobs ever worked on as a very junior quantity surveyor, way back in 1968.

Back then, it was one of the biggest new projects being built around Rye, and it still seems strange to remember that the final account came in at a shade under £35,000 to build!

The house was built for one particular family, who were pretty well off, and I haven't seen that staircase since I stood there when the job was virtually finished, and was peered at down an imperious nose by the lady of the house one day. I'd called in because I wanted to re-check a measurement of the copper tube, which made up the central heating system in the place. The builders, Turner Bros., of nearby Winchelsea, had put in bills for two near identical amounts of this 1/2" pipe, and I just couldn't reconcile the money, which was about £35.00!

So it was my job to remeasure every single run of pipe and check the lengths against what they'd ordered. It was the first barney I ever had with a builder, and although I was proved right, it was an unnerving experience! But of course, to Mrs Imperious, this would have gone right over her head...

What will probably come out in the open though, is the fact that it was eventually bought by Spike Milligan, and he died while living there. He's buried in Winchelsea boneyard, somewhere in the distance of the pic!

Spike famously said once, that he thought that the house had been designed by a blind architect! I got to know the chap pretty well back then (always Mr McLachlan), and in fact he was one of the most skilled and laid-back designers I've ever met in past or present! He never assumed that we thought he could walk on water, as so many under-talented designers do these days, and I remember him designing a chimney detail in his beloved 'Bradstone' with just the basic drawing board and 'T' square, and doing it in ink, with no pencil, and immediately describing for the builder what he wanted! And it worked of course!

So much for 'blind architect', the working address we used for the house was 'Dumb Woman's Lane'!

Thumper...

For no reason, I started humming this song a couple of days ago. I actually quite like a forceful beat, not rock-ape thicko stuff, but something with the occasional brain cell included in the price, and that's why I liked Joanni by Kate Bush! (Well, Kate Bush looks like Pips, so I'd have to wouldn't I...)!

Any'ow, I can easily remember the Bee Gees on their first outing on the Beeb's Top of the pops, and they played (or mimed, as their guitars weren't plugged in) this song.

When Mrs S was seriously poorly, and in hospital with all sorts of bits going wrong, the Babes were under Scrobs' control, and doing their level best. On one visit, I managed to get a request on the hospital radio, and we got Massachusetts played. The Babes became even more precious then...

Some say that Scrobs is losing his marbles, but not to his face thank goodness...

Census story...

I've recently filled in our census form, because, despite being shredded by banks, politicians etc., like most small businessmen, I quite like keeping records, and if any despot really wants to know where I live and what I was doing last night, I can imagine that the last thing he's going to do is click through the 500 million odd forms to find my address...

In the 1901 census, I discovered that my paternal grandfather, the builder who built quite a lot of Letchworth, and Welwyn Garden City, was listed as a 'Tinman'.

Now, apart from whistling 'Yellow Brick Road' a few times, and also this lovely little song by some old heroes, I was surprised by this, because:-

1) I thought he'd always run a plumbing firm, and later, a full building business,

2) I couldn't find out exactly what a 'Tinman' was, apart from the obvious connection with - er - tin! I thought of 'scrap' (nooo), 'tinned' joints in plumbing (maybe), but finally gave up!

Only recently, I uncovered some rare notes written by my Uncle Jack ('twill be another post, but not here), which had several paragraphs on what was going on in the Scrobs ancestry in the early 1900s. He mentioned a workshop in Grandpa Scrobs' early life, where he'd based his plumbing business, and where, in his spare time, he made kitchen implements like bespoke pots, saucepans and the like, (perhaps an early version of these) and they were sold in a shop in Leys Avenue, Letchworth! I imagine they did the job properly, (otherwise they wouldn't have sold) and hope that they stayed the course! Apparently, he loved the work too!

So there you have it; just a small census yarn about a 'Tinman', and which also causes me a bit of a grin, because, as all three readers know, Scrobs spends ages in the shed, doing this and that, and his entry in the census says - er - oh hellfire, I didn't say...

The carpenter's yarn - priceless...

A carpenter was giving evidence about an accident he had witnessed.

The lawyer for the defendant was trying to discredit him and asked him how far away he was from the accident.

The carpenter replied, "Twenty-seven feet, six and one half inches."

"What? How come you are so sure of that distance?" asked the lawyer.

"Well, I knew sooner or later some idiot would ask me, so I measured it!" replied the carpenter.


h/t Davethespread

Act of kindness...

At a time when it seems that UK inc is chucking money round the world like a man with no arms, and with little regard for it's own citizens, it might be a good idea to recall a singular act of kindness towards us, which occurred many years ago.

Lynmouth was ravaged by a huge flood on August 15th, 1952, and in straightened times, was international headline news of a huge tragedy to this delightful little town.

The events are well documented, and I well knew Charles Dobbie, the Consulting Engineer who was on holiday there at the time, and provided unique expertise to the council in bringing the place back to near-normal.

During the aftermath, and at the start of the reconstruction, there was a visit to the town by a certain Mr William Bustamente, who was then a Chief Minister in Jamaica. The Caribbean had experienced a devastating hurricane a year before, and Jamaica had taken the brunt of the storm.

Mr Bustamente arrived in person, and came down to Lynton to express his sorrow and regret, and wanted to reciprocate the largesse of a cash-strapped UK, by bringing with him a lorry load of bananas, sugar and coffee from his own country, which he happily distributed to everyone in the crowd - especially the children.

Now that was a nice thing to do.

Wheel Hoe or, Hoe down...

Scrobs/Growster Inc. PLC. Wheel hoe.

Idea - Slightly different version by Scrobs, some years ago...

Confirmation of idea - Seeing one for sale, but in a 1988 Marshall's Seed Catalogue, (discovered clinging to the back of an old gardening book) and causing panic in 'The Turrets'.

Further information - loads of pics here.

Wheel - 'Discovered' in pile of rusted mangled metal by the allotment tipping patch.

Handles - The old lawnmower handles somehow left in the roof after all these years...(they were also the subject of a mysterious series of letters between a certain Ms Bunty Binstock, The Grafas Fruning Graplecard, The Beast, The W-Bs, and of course, Modo, which wandered in all directions and eventually centred around the daily life of a deranged community in Scotton Pinkney many years ago! I ask you!)

Handle extensions - From Sgt. Wilson's motorbike - an idea pinched from a pic on 'Gurgle Images'.

Body - Bits of the old oak posts from the church notice board (the rest of the stuff was made into a rustic mantle shelf and return on the fireplace.)

Main axle - 6" bolt from sadly-now-closed local ironmongers over twenty years ago.

Screw bolts - From Hendon 'Homebase' (see Scrobs passim), and our old greenhouse.

Hoe blade and brackets - Old car/bike bars from past cycling forays in Bedgebury Forest before the arrival of JRT. They were sitting there doing nothing, especially after the said bike was commandeered by Sergeant Wilson... (the blade is now also updated with piece of metal from Mrs S's mum's old magazine rack...)

A typical picture of Scrobs, wearing the traditional garb of a keen but occasionally confused agriculturalist...

The idea of this type of hoe, is that the wheel enables an easy forward motion, allowing you to push your way between the rows of verdant, luscious vegetables, with the blade scraping just below the surface, thereby disturbing and aerating the soil, and also consigning the weeds to oblivion. It is also very quick.

It actually works extremely well thank goodness. There are several American websites which show nice expensive tools and contraptions, all very shiny and bright, but what's really wanted is a quick and easy way to clout the weeds and chuck the soil around a little, before getting home to a tincture or three of a Sunday morning!


p.s. The song is a favourite from the triple compilation album, 'The Music Makers', which would clatter round the flat after a few sherberts in 'The Two Sawyers' all those years ago...

Jet Harris - R.I.P...

Sorry to see another 'hero' shuffle off.

For many young lads in the fifties and sixties, 'The Shadows' were the first real rock and roll group, but you didn't really call it 'rock and roll', because:-

a) Your mum and dad didn't like it.

b) Rock and roll was by some American group, and didn't sound anything like The Shadows.

Somewhere in the roof, I still have seven or eight EPs by The Shadows, and wouldn't mind getting them out (or on Ebay pehaps), because some of the music was good back then, especially one particular track. As usual, a story goes with it...

A few years ago, on one Sunday morning, I was making something in the garage and had the wireless on, listening to Invicta Radio. I also had a monstrous hangover, the sort which makes you wince at the sound of a small nail dropping to the floor, and feel faint when you have to bend down to pick it up!

Over the wireless, the presenter had a slot where he would play a bit of music - say a drum solo, and ask people to phone in with the answer. Now I never normally take any notice of these items, because some phone-ins are so dire, that I have to turn the sound down while Bert from Margate gibbers about, says 'you know' a dozen times, and generally makes the air painful, especially the air around a throbbing head and ears...

DJ Bob from Invicta was cracking on through his programme, and playing the same drum solo over and over again, and nobody was getting it at all! Directly I'd heard it, I recognised it as Tony Meehan's solo from 'See you in my drums' from The Shadows' first album. Well I would know it, as the prefects in the studies below our dormitory at school played it incessantly for about ten weeks...

And so I'd bought the EP, and listened to it for several more years, and life eventually went on without too many plays, until now!

After about twenty five 'Berts from Margate' had got it wrong, I had to do something about it, so I rushed in the house, grabbed ED's tape recorder, asked her to listen out on the radio, and be ready to hear her daddy, and then I called the DJ...

I was put on air immediately, and luckily, didn't stammer, say 'you know', or worse still get it wrong (I'd written it down on the back of a sanding disk, remember I had a hangover, and was shaking more than somewhat), and luckily, got it right. We chatted on air for a minute or so, and he promised he'd send me a prize, which was an album by The Three Tenors, which I gave to my dad.

So that was the one and only time Scrobs ever became famous, and it was all down to The Shadows, with bass guitarist, Jet Harris playing all of three notes over and over again, from start to finish...

'Bye Jet, your music was pretty good back then, and you were a Diamond!