Hmmm? Isn't it? Banana?

Ickle tired person

Well. That was a bit of a weekend. I went out on Friday night and ended up getting rather too merry; it was great fun. But I think I am drinking too much. Saturday was spent with a pounding headache most of the day, and my guts played me merry hell. Like I say, I had a laugh, but hangovers irritate me enormously, so I try and avoid them whenever possible. I am going to try and drink less - particularly when I go out, mainly for financial reasons, to be honest - but also for health reasons. I'm sure I am not doing myself any favours with this sort of intake, and maybe I should make myself care before I have to, if that makes sense.

Anyway, despite the fact that I am gently drinking wine as we speak, I am going to do less of it. Maybe tomorrow... Maybe. Heh.

Saturday evening involved the brief visit of an unexpected face from my middle past, which was good fun, and somewhat of a surprise. But on Sunday morning I went to Tincorner's house after an email Call to Arms that he sent out to the boys a week or so ago. A bit of history: Tin was given (for his 21st birthday) a Triumph Stag - a classic car that had been found abandoned in a barn for five years after an engine fire. Over the (many, many!) years since this day, and including throughout University, we worked on this car to transform it from the non-running, dirty, burnt and badly painted car that it was, to the fast, gorgeous sounding and good looking beast that has been part of various adventures through the ensuing years...

This time, the call was for further attention to the old girl and her structure. It has been many years since a major rebuild (10 years almost exactly, just for symmetry's sake) and Tin had a bodywork man lined up to attend to the various 'issues' that the passage of time had forced upon the chassis and metalwork of the Stag. Unfortunately, the timing hadn't quite lined up, and the window for the work had badly coincided with too many things to allow him to prepare the car. So this weekend we all descended on his gaff to strip what started off as pretty much a complete car down to a rolling chassis.

It was mostly Tin and me on the first day, and we had some routine maintenance to do to his Mum's car to do in the morning, and so we only started on the Stag in the afternoon. Minime was there for a while in the afternoon, but was prevented from fully participating as he would have liked by having his wife and baby present. He got his hands dirty a bit, but probably only enough to get him into trouble - he was supposed to be having a 'family' day... Oops. We decided to strip the interior and so hit the car like men possessed, stripping doors, seats, carpets, dash panels and wiring looms while Minime tried to pretend he wasn't helping. We had, in five hours, got the car essentially stripped from the windscreen back. I had knocked the tops of most of my knuckles and cut myself a number of times - such is the wonder of road cars, with their sharp edges and unforgiving corners- and Matt and I were absolutely exhausted. We had been flat out all day, trying to get as much done as possible, but still had to drag ourselves away from the car when it was getting dark. What is this obsession with getting that car right that has driven us for so long?

So after day one of utter exhaustion, came day two. The rest of the boys arrived in the morning: Aston, predictably smack on time as always, Minime surprisingly early but perhaps spurred on by his feeling of being hampered in his involvement the day before. Suggs, dragging along the entire clan, was some minutes behind...

Today went much the same way. Lots of running around, but the car is ready. We're all knackered, but the job is done. It is devoid of everything expect that which holds it off the floor to get it to the paint shop. We did uncover some nasty surprises that will require some TLS when the bedrock man gets to see the car, but surprisingly little for a car that is 35 years old. The car really is in good shape. I blame us. We rock. Still, we'll have to see what the man says. Hopefully it will be a happy response when the metal magic is done.

I mean. The miserable Fecker hasn't even let me drive it yet. After 14 years of helping him fix his car, I still haven't driven it. Several gearbox rebuilds, engine inner workings, paint stripping in Yorkshire (the entire car from Blue to its original white), car stripping down in Yarmouth, car stripping down in Warwickshire... Somebody remind me to kick his arse when it's all back together.

But never mind that. I'm buggered, so I am going to bed. I think I've done very well staying up until half eleven, to be honest, I thought I'd be asleep on the sofa by nine...

posted by Brock @ Monday, May 01, 2006