bbishop

Alex, two recommendations. 1. Get hold of a booklet entitled Carr's Soldering Handbook. 2. If you see Tony Wright demonstrating at an exhibition, sit down and have a chat with him. Everyone discovers their own technique. I sort of have three "rules". The iron must be the right wattage for the job - I mostly use Antex variable temperature irons, one for brass / nickel silver and another for whitemetal. Use the correct solder, ie "70" for whitemetal, "145" for wet jobs and "188" for dry jobs. Use fluxes that suit your technique, I mostly use Powerflow, in the knowledge that it must be cleaned off the job otherwise it will ruin the future paint job. I know Tony will give you different advice so consider alternative ways of doing a job and find your own technique. Oh, a dry joint is concave and a wet joint is convex.

Some 50 years ago, we worked out a routine for taking the animals to the vet. We always took both cat and dog together. Harvey (the cat) hated being in a carrier so travelled loose in the car, sitting on the back ledge of the hatchback. He was carried into the waiting room and sat (purring) on a lap with Toddy (the dog) sitting on the floor in front. Into the surgery together, put on the couch, where one was the patient and the other the nurse. Neither was the least bit stressed.

Did they?

Or when there is a DNAR, but it's locked in the safe and the manager took the keys home.

One really needs a defib. Having typed that, one of my (our) successes was a respiratory arrest, whom we got back with oxygen and adrenaline. One needs a black sense of humour. This can sometimes offend "civilians" but is one of our coping mechanisms. So we were told not to attend the "several hours dead" with a laconic 'he's sitting in the smallest room'. Then the two CFRs had to comfort the student paramedic who had just seen her first dead body.

Are you Shaw?

Shouldn't your end-stage patients have had DNARs? I've got a fair number back. I don't keep stats., but in the last 24 months, two back, one dead several hours, one probably already dead when he hit the floor. It does help that I look after a defib and oxygen.

The aim is to go down about 5 - 6cm, so except for the elderly, one shouldn't be breaking ribs.

I am horrified how this thread is developing. The Hainault perpetrator may well have mental health issues and could possibly be a paranoid schizophrenic. Some 50 years ago he would have been incarcerated in a mental hospital, drugged up to the eyeballs, but at least he wouldn't have been in a position to kill a child with a machete. Instead our politicians decide it is cost effective to let him roam the streets with no checks on whether he takes his anti-psychotic medicine. I am grateful he was Tasered, the thought of someone with mental health issues being shot dead is too awful to consider. And I agree the Australian inspector was entitled to shoot in self-defense. This case so echoes the Nottingham incident. Remember that I am trained to be involved in these situations, not running towards danger, but available to provide first aid or take on a support role.

We acquired Toddy as an Exmoor farm terrier, in other words a Jack Russell Terrier. Behaved impeccably with stock, hated vermin and loved children and cats. He always returned on call so on a walk we would let him do his own thing, which meant the exploration of every hole and culvert. So our silky brown and white dog rapidly became a muddy scruff. So on return home, two things happened consequently. First he has hung under the yard tap until the mud was removed, then he charged round the garden having a shake then a rub down with his towel. Second he was allowed in front of a blazing gas fire. Toddy was blissfully happy, the rest of us had to put up with the smell of wet dog.

Rather gorgeous. Pity they are HO. Now if they were Spur Null and I were a millionaire ...

almost ... zwei kleine Enten.

I drink Brains.

2-12-0 !!! I have an O gauge German exhibition layout. My stock is very attractive, but boy is it fragile.

I commuted to school, on my own, from the age of seven. Mum took me the first day, after which I was on my own. The 1926 era 4SUB broke down on the third day, and they stopped the Kent Coast train comprising brand new 4CEPs. I discovered these had external handles, so on arrival at St Mary Cray I opened the window, opened the door, closed the window, stepped out and closed the door behind me. Simples.