Waterworks Countdown

On Wednesday afternoon Thunderthighs went to wash his hands and called from the bathroom

“There’s no water coming out of the tap.”

I went downstairs, where Fester informed me that there was water coming out of the kitchen tap but very slowly.

Texted the neighbours who had received alerts from the water board.

Miss Doozer opined “I can only assume Northern Gas Networks hit the main in their quest for gold at Four Lane Ends.”

They’ve had the road up at the junction for some time causing quite a traffic tailback at peak times.

The water-board said they would be working on it and it should be rectified by 7pm, and to run the taps for 40 minutes if the water was discoloured.

I advised Thunderthighs, who was fretting, that there was plenty of hand-sanitizer to clean his hands.

After tea Fester decided we should check whether it was back on.

We were sitting in the office and, apparently being unable to walk the four yards along the landing from the office to the bathroom, he calls Thunderthighs down out of the loft.

"Thund, go and run the cold tap in the bathroom to see if it's discoloured, but give it 30 seconds."

Off he lumbers, water runs and then we hear "Dodo, dodo, dodododo, boom" a la Countdown.

Collapse of aged parents.

He reports back to us holding his ipod, which he has used to time exactly 30 seconds.

 

Variety Is The Spice

Very few facebook posts to choose from, and those all short.

But I’m posting late today because of an early meeting and I won’t be posting tomorrow so chew over these…

From Facebook Archives

20 February 2011 at 08:08 ·

All packed and ready for the Scottish trip - tata til Thursday

20 February 2012 at 10:58

Today: Ferretfingers’ college has training day. 

Tomorrow: take Fester to farm and Tesco.

Wednesday; collecting for Marie Curie Cancer Care. 

Thursday; volunteering at Learning Disabilities Federation. 

Friday; collecting for Marie Curie. 

Another full week!

19 February 2015 at 12:37

First crocus up and frog moving in pond #signsofspring

Mrs Poet  Keep French out of our ponds .

Bentonbag ... tell 'em to leg it and take their snails with them.

19 February 2018 at 11:22

I've spent the last two Friday knit'n'natter sessions alternately stuffing and sewing up teddies and shoving chocolate eggs up chicks' bottoms.

20 February 2024 at 19:25

Sitting watching Pointless and the couple said they would use any winnings on 

Inter-railing 'albeit a little later than most'.

"That would be good" I said wistfully "I wonder how much it would cost to get someone to mind Ferretfingers for three weeks.  Probably more than taking him."

"And he wouldn't like it being left behind."

"Nor would his brother ... mind you, that would be a good reason for doing it."

Their father gave me a reproachful look 

"This is not a sword dancing team, where winding people up is de rigeur."

Paganess  Leave all three behind, they'll muddle through and you can have a ball

Bentonbag  I would but need his credit card, and someone to carry the bags, frighten footpads, scoundrels etc

Paganess  Steal his credit card and use it to hire a body guard, simples

Mrs Leftfoot  Yeeeeessssss!  Two go interrailing.  Yahooo!  Think how many months that would cross off.  We wouldn’t "have to" meet up again for another year or so.

 

(photo credit George Boznyak 1994)

 

 

In Camera

 From Facebook Archives

18 February 2025 at 16.44

My much loved little Sony digital camera, which is over ten years old, is malfunctioning. 

It's been making little graunchy noises when the lens telescopes for a little while. But now it's stuck on out even when the camera is off. And despite following the camera's request to turn it off and on again I can't get it back in.

The question is.

The nearest Jessops is in York but there is a camera repair shop listed in old Eldon Square (AMP). Is it worth making enquiries.

Or should I just bite the bullet and get a new one from Argos - a similar Canon would set me back £300+ a cheap AGFA £50odd.

Not having a camera is not an option.

Dulcima  I took a camera to the Old Eldon Square shop, many years ago.  I am surprised it's still there, if it's the same one! I think it was up several flights of stairs.  Worth investigating,  I would have thought.

Pink Shipskitchen  APM Camera Repairs are closed until the 21st according to their Facebook, but you could try ringing or emailing them for advice before making the trek into Newcastle!

You could also try the London Camera Exchange on Gosforth High Street either for a repair, or they do second hand cameras if you did need to replace it.  The current secondhand stock is on their website

Miss Doozer  Mine went the same way. It was the motor and a £200 repair. You can get a new camera for that, and the bobby basic ones nowadays are pretty fab.

📷📷📷  

I searched around the office and unearthed two brand new, still in their boxes, rather posh Lumix digital cameras which Fester bought some years ago when he started on his neverending list of pits.

He’d intended using one to photograph documents in museums to look at on-screen at home at his leisure, rather than spend time poring over them in situ restricted by opening hours.

“You work out how to work yours then you can show me.”

Many spouses will understand that, more often than not, teaching one another to do anything always ends in tears – or at the least a huge row and temper tantrum.

As a man with three degrees he's perfectly capable of working it out for himself, and less likely to ask me the same questions every time he used it.   

“Bugger that” I said “you can work it out for yourself” and acquired the simple little Sony from Argos.

However, I am now using one of the Lumix.

It’s four times bigger and heavier than the Sony, and has far too many functions for a point-and-shoot girl like me.

 

Washing Machines

1981

I come from a time before automatic washers when you filled the machine with hot water and soap powder and decided for yourself how long it would agitate the contents.  Then hauled them out into a sink (preferably Belfast) to rinse the suds out.

The first time I came across one of those knee high cylindrical spin-dryers was in the laundry room of Easton Hall of residence for lady students at Newcastle University in 1975.  This was in the bowels of the basement next to the boiler room; where there was some useful warm hanging and drying space. 

You would load your wet washing into the spin-dryer; it took very little and that had to be ‘balanced’.  However careful you were loading it the spin-dryer would still dance around the room after you switched it on. 

The Squireen had a twin tub which I used when we shared a flat in the early 1980s.  One tub washed, the other  rinsed and spinned (span? spun?).  Again the laundress decided how long either process went on for, and hauled wet washing from one side into the other.

I believe I first used an automatic front loader when I moved in with Phil in 1986.

Yesterday’s blog about washing days of yore elucidated this exchange of memories on Facebook

16 February 2026at 09.52

I've blogged https://bentonbag.blogspot.com/2026/02/washing-days.html

Half from archives and half from memory.

Drummerman  My English Grandma was dead posh in latter years - her washing machine had an electric mangle that sat on top of it and swung out of the way.   

It lived in the wash house next to what must have been an electrically heated poss tub.   

The washing machine was passed on to us (Sans long-dead mangle).  It didn’t last much longer: in the immortal words of Mike Harding “Bang, smoke, finito benito”.

Brenda M Boyd  Mum's (electric and/or hand powered) mangle sat above its own drainage slit into the washer, so no soapy water was wasted.  I did see it being used to wring big things like sheets but the rollers were so worn they had little effect.   

Our foremothers didn't need the gym with weekly weightlifting wet bedding into and out of the washer and onto the line.

Mother refused all efforts at persuading her to get a more modern washer, or even a twin-tub (luxury!). She did agree to inherit a spin dryer from her daughter-in-law's mother in 1977.  Father referred to it as Concorde because of the noise it made "taking off", and rumbling around the kitchen.

It also led to this memorable exchange with Middlesister that Christmas...

"Mum, Mrs P's spindryer, is it electric?"

"Yes" then a pause while the question sank in

 "What did you expect it to be?” 

then sarcastically “Gas?"

"No" haughtily with injured daughterly dignity "I thought it might be a wrangler."