Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Friday, 2 September 2016
I'm no arachnaphobe, but...
Mrs Trump is not only suing the Mail On Line for $150 million for allegations about her past life, but also a simple blogger like me for a similar amount, so I had better be careful about what I say from now on.
I would like to say that this Trump saga is becoming boring, but it obviously isn't. Each day brings something even more outrageous than the last, and there is still a couple of months to go. I am not sure I can take the excitement.
That two tons of Tufa block arrived from Canada (via Ohio) in two huge packing crates the other day, and they prised the lid off one to make sure it wasn't full of bricks.
They pulled a few pieces out and inspected them, then they noticed some movement in the corner of their eye. This Tufa - which is in itself full of little hidey-holes - came with all the creatures to which it had been home for quite some time. There are spiders of all shapes and sizes scurrying about - well-travelled spiders.
An online search revealed that Canada is home to the Black Widow, as is the U.S.A. where this stuff originated. Before I knew anything about the above, I took a piece out as a sample, and left it in my car for a few days, so if I inexplicably lose control of my car and smash into a motorway bridge, you may want to get the coroner to bring in a toxicologist. Just a suggestion.
So now I have to put the lids on, drill a hole in them and pump some toxic smog into the crates and leave them alone for a week or two just to make sure.
An adventurous friend of mine once imported a container-full of Mini Mokes from Australia, where they used to be very popular as run-arounds in the 60s and 70s, Oz having such a good climate compared to here.
Because Mokes had no roll-bars, the most economical way of transporting them was to put them one on top of the other in the container, like IKEA does with flat-packed furniture. You can get about 8 Mokes in a small container, and the shipping companies charge by volume.
Once back in Bath, my friend restored them and sold them on at a good profit. He once lent me one to drive to Surrey in, which is quite a long way in a tiny vehicle with no roof, no windscreen and seats which are about eight inches above the road surface.
It was very good fun - if a little tiring - but there was a constant niggle in the back of my mind which took the edge off the enjoyment somewhat, because his last words to me before I drove away were, "I found a Red-Back nest in that one. I wouldn't worry too much. I don't think they would survive the temperature in this country."