chrisf

Good morning one and all Goodness, all those triggered memories of skool dinners! They varied widely. When I was at Latymer Upper School in Hammersmith from 1959 to 1962 each table of 8 had a table captain who dolloped out the food, not always equally. Fortunately there was also a school tuck shop which sold a fizzy soft drink called Fling. It was put into a thing like a tumble dryer which cooled it and you got it to fizz by tapping the bottom of the bottle with a penny. The food was much better at what was then Huntingdon Grammar School [1962-66]. A teacher or prefect would say grace. Mr Jamieson, being irreverent, would whack a table with a large spoon and grab our attention by shouting "Eyes Down". Sometimes I wanted to say "For what we are about to leave may the pigs be truly thankful" but I found myself in enough trouble without that. JohnDMJ, rest assured that snake and pigmy pud is alive and well in 'Spoons. I had one yesterday. This was about five hours after Poorly Pal and I had enjoyed stir fried chicken with a bold selection of vegetables and Blue Dragon chilli and garlic sauce. He wants beef next time I visit. Must remember that. Today I may visit the market as I need some spuds. If I do I will also check out the WI stall for marmalade. The rest of the week should be relatively quiet. On Saturday I will be at Whittlesey Straw Bear to watch lots of morris dancing in the streets. The event attracts local trainee drinkers who seem determined to learn the hard way, bless them. Among the dance teams booked is Red Leicester and with any luck a friend of mine will be allowed out to dance with them. Long story ... Ongoing best wishes to all travellers, especially victims of Southern and their workforce, to the lonely and depressed and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

Good morning one and all It appears that I have a new "distributor" for the local rag, according to the rather harassed receptionist at the office. She tells me that her colleague in Distribution will phone the new brat to explain the finer points of delivering newspapers. We shall see what happens but so far it seems that living in the same street as the Editor's mother has had no magic effect. Meanwhile the ironing is up to date and the food prepped for Poorly Pal's lunch. I made an impulse purchase on the fodder run yesterday - a can of tapioca pudding. I've not had that stuff for years! It bears too close a resemblance to Polycell wallpaper paste for comfort but made a fine complement to the main course of bangers, mash and beans. Perhaps I will buy more while it is still on special offer. We called it frog spawn at school when it was served in socking great bowls and looked most unappetising. Today we proffer best wishes to all travellers, especially those poor devils dependent on Southern, whose drivers can clearly afford not to work. Let us also think of the lonely and depressed and of the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. The power of thought can be remarkable, apparently. Chris

I realise that this question is not addressed to me so I hope you do not mind if I answer it. Roof vents - a tad small. Buffer heads - far too small, but at least they have rectangular shanks, unlike the replacement buffers fitted by Gerry Beale to his otherwise superb upgraded model described in MRJ Glazing - does not sit properly on my example so I have cut the strips into smaller pieces and glued them in Toilet windows - most examples had a different configuration to that modelled They deserve better gangways, but so do most other coaches. Our 4mm scale passengers should not have to be long jump champions. So what else? Chris

Howard, on my new Hornby Collett the trusses are L section - not as fine as they would be if modelled in brass angle but L shaped nonetheless. This is a distinct improvement on the Hawksworths whose trusses are square section, Chris

Some later builds, around late 1930s/early 1940s, reverted to horizontal face on the bottom. I wish I knew exactly which before you ask ... Chris

Good morning one and all. From the late great Cyril Tawney: Too soon to be out of my bed Too soon to be back at this bus queue caper Or fumbling for change for my picture paper On a Monday morning Another Monday, another trip into town to fetch the local paper. For some inexplicable reason the delivery brat did what he/she/it was paid to do while I was away and there were two issues on the doormat. Clearly we are back to normal. Shall I do that before or after the fodder run? Decisions, decisions. Said fodder run is a day early because I need to buy the ingredients for Poorly Pal's lunch tomorrow. He wants chicken - no problem. Buses from Paddington to Liverpool Street - try route 205 [Paddington - Bow Church] which IIRC was introduced to relieve the Hammersmith and City while the buckets and spades were out. It doesn't go very near Farringdon but otherwise hugs the railway pretty closely. I will have to watch last night's Sherlock again as I too had difficulty in following it. But for that and a couple of Portaloo's new rail journeys I am pretty well caught up now. The steak and trimmings went well and so far I am unscathed by the elderly caramel mould. I must see if it is still on sale. Sir David Attenborough is talking about the Great T i t on the radio. I am reminded of a gem from Stanley Accrington: "Now which politician behaves like a t i t? Portillo, Portillo, Portillo". It was a long time ago. Double condolences to Ian and best wishes to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers [especially those attempting to use the Underground] and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

I have given up on the webshite and find it easier to call the 0845 number. Chris

Good morning one and all The plumbing was accomplished eventually yesterday. I must have spent two hours groping under the sink taking bits off, cleaning them, mopping up the spillage, applying petroleum jelly to the screw threads, substituting some but not all of the new parts that I had just bought and putting it all together. So far, touch wood, there have been no drips. The next lot of laundry awaits the collapsible clothes horse and a pile of ironing needs to be processed. This may get done while The Archers omnibus is on as if I do not multi-task a bit more I will never catch up with all that needs to be done. A reward awaits. In addition to the rump steak due to be today's lunch I found a packet of Green's caramel mould in the cupboard. It has been there longer than I am prepared to admit and I have no idea whether it is still available. I have been enjoying a cup of tea while typing this. The Swiss, for all their admirable qualities, have no idea of how tea should be made. On a train or in a cafe one is presented with a cup or glass of warmish water and a tea bag which one is expected to dunk and agitate until the water attracts some colour. Fortunately in hotels one makes ones own tea and the chance for craftsmanship can be seized with alacrity. Sadly the Swiss method is spreading to this country. A couple of years ago I was less than pleased to be presented with a DIY cuppa with dinner in a Premier Inn. The waiter tried to tell me that the tea would have been stewed if made in the kitchen and brought to the table. I expressed disbelief but you must decide for yourselves quite how I did this. There should now be enough hot water for a bath. Best wishes, then, to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

Good morning one and all The process of catching up is a long one but I blitzed it yesterday. I much prefer to watch TV programmes on television but the performance or otherwise of my digi box means much time sat at the laptop viewing BBC i-player and All4. Sometime today I should get to the Dr Who special and the episodes of Father Brown that I missed. By way of light relief (?) I need to buy some plumbing requisites to replace the U bend etc under the kitchen sink which had to be unblocked and is now less than watertight. I had forgotten that Homebase had walked away from Nectar. Grrr. Silver lining time: Homebase is across the road from Tesco so I will take the opportunity to let someone else cook me breakfast before bewildering myself with plastic screwfit right-angles and the like. On the fodder run yesterday I treated myself to a slab of rump steak for Sunday lunch. I suspect that I will enjoy it and the associated trimmings but that is another day. More of the RMweb back catalogue remains to be read and it takes ages! So, when I find it, will the honours list. Best wishes as ever to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing Chris

Good morning one and all Catching up continues as the holiday wears off. A trip into town yesterday yielded the expected prescription which is now duly dispensed, a reassuring bank statement and a couple of items from the sorting office after the regulation trudge to fetch them. A few holes seem to be appearing in the local bus service and I will never know whether I caught the 09.36 or 09.48 from the bus station. Today will see a fodder run to capture some of the items I did not know I needed when I did the last one. Oh, how swiftly one is engulfed by the old routine. The laundry is in the dryer waiting to be hung out, which means being draped over a folding clothes horse in the bath. This cannot take place until I have had a bath, so if you'll excuse me ... Best wishes to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Ah, I need another box of tissues. Chris

It seems that Postie tried to deliver mine on 23rd December, when I was away. D'oh ... Chris

Forgive me if this is a silly question but have any subscription copies arrived? Chris, who has been out of the country for a fortnight

Good morning one and all, Happy 2017 and congratulations to Grandpa Ed. It's nice to be back! I had a good time in Switzerland, tempered as with most of my fellow travellers by a rotten cold. There is much to catch up - too much laundry, 283 e-mails, 61 pages of new posts on RMweb and some favourite TV programmes. Predictably, the digi box froze on Christmas Day so it's a case of exploring BBC i-player and All4. Unpredictably, the delivery brat returned to the equivalent of action and left me two editions of the local rag. Today I need to trudge to the sorting office to fetch whatever it was that Postie tried to deliver on 23rd December. There is much to tell of the holiday and, given a few days, I will tell some of it. Enough happened on the day of outward travel for me not to keep it from you. The Eurostar left St Pancras 4 minutes late and arrived in Paris 20 minutes down after waiting a path through the Chunnel and trundling in other places where trundling was not appropriate. In Paris a fleet of taxis took up to 35 minutes to take those who chose to ride in them from Gare du Nord to Gare de l'Est, which compared with the 15 minutes that it took some of us to walk. Later, near Basel, SNCF terminated our train at St Louis in a rare attempt to correct late running. A following train would take us the few remaining miles to our destination but, oh dear, I will be late for dinner with Flavio. Out came the mobile phone. I could not hear Flavio, he could not hear me and I could not hear his voice mail. We resorted to texts. So did various mobile phone providers: "Welcome to Germany" when in France was doubtless well intentioned. Eventually we got to the hotel, Flavio arrived, we went for dinner and eventually found somewhere to eat which was not full and noisy. Best wishes, comme d'habitude, to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers [you can see why I say that now] and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

Good morning one and all This is my last intended post before the festive break. I shall travel to London this afternoon and stay overnight because I trust neither Thameslink to get me to St Pancras in time for Eurostar check-in tomorrow morning nor myself to get up at ridiculous o'clock to trundle myself and the suitcase through the streets of Bedford towards the station. The Travelodge at the top of Grays Inn Road is well placed for me to reach St Pancras at the appointed hour, having consumed a less microscopic breakfast at a nearby cafe than the pathetic offering at the hotel. I forgot to mention yesterday that once again the Sunday paper delivery brat had defaulted. The weekly call at the newspaper office had a new dimension, for talking to Pamela the receptionist when I arrived was none other than Sarah the editor. It turns out that her mother lives a few doors along from me on the other side of the road. An interesting scenario now unfolds: "Mother? Have you been getting the paper lately? What do you mean, what paper? The one I edit, of course! I wish you'd said ...". In the afternoon I had my hormone injection at the branch surgery. Sticking to the twelve week interval would have meant trying to get it sorted in Interlaken and I don't know the Swissdeutsch for Zoladex. As I type this I hear of a new transformative treatment for prostate cancer, which must be good news but I think mine had passed the early stages before it was diagnosed. Such is life. Today's warm thoughts must include anyone connected with the dreadful atrocity in Berlin and it is hard to associate peace and goodwill with the lorry driver. As usual, let us think particularly of the lonely and depressed, of all travellers and of the ailing, supporting, recovering, grieving and missing. Finally, let me share with you the words of a song written in 1963 by the late great Paddy Roberts: Merry Christmas, you suckers, you miserable men That old festive season is with us again You’ll be spending your money on cartloads of junk And from here to New Year you’ll be drunk as a skunk Merry Christmas, you suckers, it’s perfectly clear That you fall for it all a bit sooner each year If it goes on like this you will find pretty soon You’ll be singing White Christmas as early as June That Christmas card racket will cost you a packet Each season it seems to expand The cards are so clever, though nothing whatever To do with the subject in hand You’ll be taking the kids round the multiple stores To be frightened to death by some old Santa Claus Then it’s parties with spirits and vino and beer Merry Christmas, you suckers, and a Happy New Year Merry Christmas, you suckers, you bleary-eyed lot You’ll never get rid of that headache you’ve got But I hope you feel splendid, you certainly should With your stomachs distended with turkey and pud Merry Christmas, you suckers, jump into your cars Roar off to your neighbours to sink a few jars Though your vision is double just keep smiling through There are others in trouble a lot worse than you Beyond any question acute indigestion Will plague you and make you unwell You won’t take the warning, you’ll wake up each morning Undoubtedly feeling like hell So stick to it, suckers, go swallow a pill For this is the season of peace and goodwill While we patiently wait for that nuclear blast Merry Christmas, you suckers, it may be your last Copyright © 1963 Romney Music Ltd. Recording issued on Decca F11552 Apart from the reference to the nuclear blast it's spot on. Season's greetings! Chris

Do I recognise Huntingdon Hosiery Mill in the third pic down? Chris

Good morning one and all I am suitably refreshed after a bath, loading the clothes dryer with future ironing and clipping the toenails. Shortly there will be oat cuisine, after which I plan to visit a different supermarket to stock up on canned fruit and use some coupons. Yesterday a fault developed in the outlet from the kitchen sink and I need to consider whether to try and fix it before I go away or, more probably, leave it until I return. Decisions, decisions. This afternoon I need to attend the branch surgery for my 12-weekly injection, almost the last vital task before the holiday begins. Last night's concert with Maddy Prior and the Carnival Band was enjoyable, complete with non-Scottish bagpipes and a consort of shawms, but I felt that Maddy's voice was not quite on full power. Goodness, it must be close on 40 years since I first met her. It was in her dressing room at what was then the Hammersmith Odeon and her father, the late playwright Allan Prior, was also present. How did you manage that, Chris? It was thanks to a competition in the Record Mirror and some chums were with me. By the time we got away it was 11.30 pm and we wanted to be on the 12.5 am out of St Pancras all among the newspapers. We did not trust the Piccadilly Line at that time of night so hailed a taxi. "You're cutting it fine" said the driver, who got us to St Pancras in 15 minutes! "That was a disgraceful piece of driving!" said the speed cop who had chased the cab from the end of Westway. "Your job is to get these people to their destination in one piece". We forbore from pointing out to Officer Dibble that the driver had done exactly that. My signed copy of the "All Around My Hat" LP got home safely, as did its owner. Dave Danemouth, yes, that is the book I was hunting in London. That will also have to wait until I am back from holiday. Tomorrow will be the last post in the present series. Until then, warm thoughts to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

Good morning one and all Primark is my first choice of supplier for class clobber but on this occasion they were found wanting. Thanks for the kind thought, John. I should not have mentioned the frailties of Thameslink yesterday, for I was surely tempting providence. When I reached Bedford station I was confronted by a bunch of cancellations. The explanations were not consistent, including "earlier signalling problem" and "safety examination of tunnel". The journey to St Pancras by East Midlands was intimate to say the least, a 5 car Meridian proving insufficiently commodious. I failed to buy the book I sought but thanks are due to the lady at the London Transport Museum who found it available on Amazon. On a random bus tour of north London before the 3 pm meeting a road sign was spotted which read: "Bus lane suspended. Use bus lane". If you don't believe me, go to Junction Road near Tufnell Park tube. I got through the evening at the tandoori by ordering king prawn korma with rice and green bits, washed down with a vase of Kingfisher. The proof that I can now cope with a curry house may lead to additional social opportunities. During the day, for some reason, I recalled a Friday in the mid 80s when I was working in Westminster. Turkey curry was on the menu in the canteen and seemed OK at the time. Much of the train journey home was spent in the WC. I hate confined spaces. After the tandoori I headed home, being fearful of more nonsense on Thameslink. The ticket barrier did not like my travelcard but fortunately the luggage gate swung pen to admit me. Yes, cancellations were shown on the screen but none that would affect me. Phew. At Luton my onward connection to Bedford went from being on time when I arrived to six minutes late almost instantly. Its running was unbelievably sluggish and I wondered whether I would be on the last bus after all. I was, thank goodness. Tonight I will be at The Stables for Maddy Prior and the Carnival Band. Dead cultural. Warm thoughts to the usual list Chris

Modus Operandi by the Flemish band Trio Dhoore. That was their first. The new one, Momentum, has just arrived all the way from Ghent. Chris

Good morning one and all Thanks for the thoughts on jeans with and without fly buttons! It shows how often I go clothes shopping. As with association football, I know nothing of fashion and care even less. For now the cords will do fine. The most recent pair of jeans have been laundered and not a moment too soon. They will not be accompanying me to Switzerland as I have a pair of thermal trousers just in case there are low temperatures. Today I am bound for London again in the face of ongoing Thameslink frailty. The main objective is a meeting of a music appreciation group in Holloway but before it starts I hope to have bought a new book on Cardiff trolleybuses. On the way home there will be a slight diversion. A friend has invited me to an official birthday celebration in a tandoori house. I am not familiar with such a place and am apprehensive as to the cuisine on offer. If korma is on the menu I should be able to cope but my unfamiliarity with curry and fear of its legendary consequences have together excluded me from many potential social opportunities. Could this be a turning point? I hope to be able to tell you tomorrow! Warm thoughts [not too hot, now] to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers, especially those confronting industrial action, and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. Chris

Good morning one and all I bought a pair of cords yesterday. I cannot remember the last time I did that. The objective had been a new pair of jeans but those in Primark in my size only had button flies and my fingers are no nimbler than they were. Today, following the rediscovery of an almost out-of-date voucher for £6 whilst looking for something else, I will try and find some additional underwear. What I need to take with me on holiday is pretty much assembled now and, thank goodness, fits in the new suitcase. Between now and Tuesday afternoon there are bound to be a few "ooh, must pack that" moments. It just won't be the same otherwise. I also need to do a fodder run today as I will be in London tomorrow and will need something for Sunday lunch that is not just plucked from the freezer. Later today there will be ironing. Joy to the world [that is seasonal, isn't it?]. Before I move on to the wisdom posted elsewhere, warm thoughts to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers and to the ailing, recovering, supporting, grieving and missing. This post has been the most typo-infested for some time but, I hope, all is now corrected to expunge the bursts of fluent Crabtree. What was I saying about nimble fingers? Chris

Which? Chris

I do not recall ever seeing a picture of a L/H. Blame it on a sheltered life. Chris

Good morning one and all The holiday packing remains to be done despite my good intentions. Clearly I am too easily distracted for my own good. By contrast the fodder run was accomplished in double-quick time and so far I have not identified any forgotten items. I whipped into town to collect the Sunday paper which had not arrived at the newspaper office when I called on Monday. I wonder what the newspaper will do about the non-delivery brat? He, she or it has been paid for work not done. One might argue that this is obtaining money by deception, an act which has been known to attract a prison sentence. I never did a paper round when I was a kid. It did not appeal and I'm not sure that my parents would have been in favour. Let us see what happens, or does not happen, on Sunday. I have booked my Super Early Bird ticket for Sidmouth FolkWeek. There are many names on the first list of artists which I do not know, which is good. More are to be announced later. I hope that the next list will include Jack Carty but I had better not hold my breath, for blue is not my colour. There being no more burning issues suitable for discussion on this place, let me extend the customary warm thoughts to the lonely and depressed, to all travellers especially those on Southern who do not deserve the excretary treatment to which they are subjected day after day, and to the ailing, supporting, recovering, grieving and missing. Oh dear, another burning issue sneaked in under the wire. Please, not 'snuck'. Chris

This is distressingly common of captions. While I admire the diligence of those caption writers who give a life of each loco worthy of a published obituary, I for one am heartily sick of the practice because it is so unbalanced. Against this, at a time when we are spoon-fed with so much, we still have the opportunity to view the photograph and discover for ourselves what else it shows. Chris

I've had a quick look at a CWP more recent than for your chosen period but the same principles would apply. Most references are just to "Dining Car" but here are some to "Kitchen First" and "Second Dining Saloon". From this I deduce that if there is one catering vehicle it caters for both classes. How this was accomplished changed over time as designs of restaurant cars evolved. As a breed they were long-lived: the last Dreadnought in service was a diner. So, not too many other clues about what ran in a particular train, but remember this - the CWP sets out what should happen and does not always represent what does/did. Other getout clauses are available! Chris