Wednesday, March 19, 2008

DSC_2152 - Boyle on Boy (41/366)Grr. For those who haven't been playing attention (ok, this a copy-and-paste from email and I can't be bothered to edit thoroughly for the blog audience or to take into account previous posts. Anyway, playing attention isn't something some of you do) ages ago a recycling bin went through the back windscreen of my car. Finding a replacement that didn't cost more than the car took a while. Eventually found a local place willing to do it moderately cheaply (in plain not tinted glass, but by this stage and age of car it doesn't matter). Having fitted it I foolishly drove it home in a wet rush hour - lots of clutch control - which meant I got to use the heated rearscreen (it had largely burnt out on the old one). And so I discovered one of the bars on a brand new screen didn't work. Not best pleased.

Rang the glaziers the next day, who said they'd have it back in for testing and if it was faulty they'd claim a new one under the manufacturer's warranty. Got told the testing only took 2-3 minutes, but once they'd found the fault they'd take the glass out ready to drop the new one straight in. So it went in on Friday, so it could be tested and reordered on the Saturday. Then on Monday they rang to say they couldn't start it (someone else took the call and got the place to jump start it - if I'd spoken to them I could have found out which of the many not starting noises it was making and so what was wrong [corrective action by decreasing initial noise: 1. Use the choke, Luke. 2. Wipe distributor contacts. 3. Charge battery/jump start. 4. Wiggle starter motor wires and bang on side for good measure. 5. Flick key back and forth a few times). So I thought we'd be rung when the new one had gone in. They rang yesterday to say they couldn't test it as it hadn't been cold enough overnight for condensation to form.

Big pause while I realised that not only was the new one not about to go in, but it hadn't even been ordered yet, because the fault hadn't been confirmed. Bigger pause while I worked out that the 2-3 minutes testing consists of waiting for nature to provide the condensation. I'd assumed when he said he needed to check the circuits that he had some gadget for measuring magnetic induction (because you can't do it by
drawing current or applying your own as it's wired in parallel so would provide a constant positive result unless one put the probe right on the break). So when he said quick, I hadn't realised it was tied to the diurnal cycle and then only if weather permits. His testing consists of seeing if it works, but he didn't apparently think of
putting a mug of coffee in the boot with damp paper or a towel on the outside or even just putting the whole kettle in the boot. Not best pleased once more.

Cue appearing there at lunch time armed with a plant-mister and kitchen towel. A couple of minute's work and we found it was the seventh bar down that was dud. So now all they need to do is ring the suppliers, argue their way through the warranty claims part, get a new one sent out, exchange it for the faulty one, replace it, then ring me and tell me to come and collect my car, all hopefully before the weekend, which he'd forgotten was Easter, with Bank Holidays and closed for the duration-ness.

So it's just as well the car-based plan for the weekend and assorted other plans fell through anyway. Having a car is far more useful than I think it is when I'm feeling guilty for not using it. But it, or rather things associated with it, can be quite frustrating at times.

And in other news my mother wishes to know why the postcard she sent me while on holiday (thanks for yours, Ry) has a postmark of four days ago (and another of five days ago, and a third, illegibly smudged, which might have come from a neighbouring letter), despite her being in this country for the past few weeks. It seems to have spent forty days wandering the wilderness of the Sinai desert.


Wow that arrived quickly.
They normally are. Except for near Christmas. And the other times when they suddenly take six weeks for no apparent reason.

Oddly, your latest card has two sets of the those orange markings on - one either side - which given it's meant to be a unique identifier sort of suggests that something's been going a bit wrong, or at least it found your postcard a bit special. And flicking through assorted post I think I've found the mark for UK as it's common to American, Egyptian, Australian, Indian and Dutch post:
[edit: just in case it's actually my postcode it's probably not the best idea to put this here]

Hmm, and now it's later than it was I'm not much forwarder, having discovered the code is illegible in most of the code systems various postal services claim to use. I've also discovered my Delivery Point Suffix, though I've no idea what that means, and managed to create on-screen the squiggle on the letters from the bank (just checked; DPS is the equivalent to a house number only it rests with the physical letterbox, so if 4, Arcadia Avenue is replaced by the HQ of Knox Oil & Gas then the DPS changes, despite being the same site).

So if some site tells me there are 180 permutations and I know, by trial and error that it must be number-letter, and it accepts 0-9 as the number and won't go beyond h as letters, then...
Hang on, I only make that 90 permutations.
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