Where is my steel tape?

Once upon a time a steel tape measure was something that every self-respecting DIY/handy man had in his household toolbox.

Mostly these items were capable of measurements closely relating to things contained within the average domestic house and garden shed, and limited to six foot.

Over the years as DIY got more ambitious, this distance was increased to ten foot, probably because more items were being constructed in an increasingly redundant garage.

Out on building sites it was commonplace to have a sixty-foot tape or even a hundred foot.

The arrival of Metrification was not welcomed by many handymen, as their tapes were now infected with a second line of numbers, these bearing no direct relationship to the loved and respected Imperial sizes.

It is a well-known fact that some very expensive mistakes have been made both in the UK and also on the other side of the Atlantic, where feet and inches still reign.

Now, years after Metrification, I still revert to feet and inches when working at home. Imperial is still every inch a king and every foot a RULER!

David Taylor
11/02/2021

Where is my steel tape?

Once upon a time a steel tape measure was something that every self-respecting DIY-handyman had in his household toolbox.

Mostly these items were capable of measurements closely relating to things contained within the average domestic house and garden shed, and limited to 6 ft.

Over the years as DIY got more ambitious, this distance was increased to 10 ft, probably because more items were being constructed in an increasingly redundant garage.

Out on building sites it was common place to have a 60 ft tape or even 100 ft.

The arrival of metrification was not welcomed by many handymen, as their tapes were now infected with a second line of numbers, these bearing no direct relationship to the loved and respected Imperial sizes.

It is a well known fact that some very expensive mistakes have been made both in the UK and also on the other side of the Atlantic, where feet and inches still reign.

Now years after metrification, I still revert to feet and inches when working at home.

Imperial is still every inch a king and every foot a RULER!

David Taylor

Five people that changed my life

Now retired and with some time on my hands, I can indulge in a bit of life reflection.

This question has been suggested by the leader of our writing group and I have to admit that it has been far from easy. That is, if taken at full face value.

So many people over the years have given the daily course of my life a bit of a nudge, but how many have actually made a fundamental redirection?

Even having applied the above criteria, I am still left with some two dozen characters in the mix.

So I shut my eyes take a pin and have a stab.

The headmaster: (Mr Lord) at Cobden Primary School Loughborough. Aged nine I was getting a long way behind the class with the basic Three R’s.  I was taken to his office by my father to ask what could be done about the situation.  My father told the headmaster that he thought that I was downright lazy.  My head master said ‘David is not so much lazy, but lazy minded.  His first reaction to any situation is to try to avoid that which he deems to be uninteresting. He has intelligence but it requires a lot of motivation.’ (I was 21 before this was revealed to me.)

The second person is my late father who wisely redirected my stated career ambition away from being a chef on the East Coast Main Line Railway. He suggested that I took up the offer of an apprenticeship with Brush Electrical Engineering in Loughborough. Having watched Master Chef a few times I know that he was right.  Lucky passengers!

The third person has to be David Theobald, Chief Engineer of what was then Brush Power Engineering. I was promoted from being an Electrical Fitter to the post of Junior Draughtsman.

The fourth is the Rev. David Pawson, whose talks and debates can still be found online. His kindly wisdom and huge biblical knowledge has changed my concept of Christianity, deepened my faith and given me a framework for human existence. Not just living but how to live.

The last but by a long way not the least is my second wife Jean.  We were introduced through the offices of computer dating.  This was after separate independent interviews in Nottingham, comprising of two detailed written inquisitions. I was informed that I would need quite a strong person if I was to be successful in my search for a partner.

We met and quickly discovered that we had mutual interests including eating out. Also that we both had two children. Our previous relationships had not so much broken, more like worn out. We were helped in as much that we are both Christians but from different backgrounds.

When we were married in 2002 I was asked, ‘was it love at first sight?’ I said ‘More like love at first insight,’ and that has just grown over the years. Jean ‘manages’ me far more easily than my fist wife. She is my whole love, friend and companion.

David Taylor

Choir Outing

The choir outing from All Saints Church Loughborough was an annual event, and keenly anticipated by the members.

I remember a year in the mid nineteen fifties, when we all went to London by train.  Going by train was in itself a pleasure for us young boys, as most of us were keen train spotters.

We endured the insides of St Paul’s with its gold and glitter, and then into the long and very much more sober Westminster Abbey, followed by a packed lunch on a green space near to Tower Bridge.

A river trip was also included before the party returned to St Pancras at about 7.30 pm.

Not to miss out on a chance for a bit of extra train spotting at the neighboring Kings Cross station, four of us ran down the dividing foot tunnel, and up the steps into this hallowed East Coast Main Line station.  We were well rewarded by the sight of ‘60034 LORD FARRINGDON’ just arrived with an express from York. Wonderful!

Pushed for time, we ran back to St Pancras only to find our train within seconds of departure.  The train guard, with whistle at the ready and accompanied by our choir master, stood by the remaining open door. We were propelled firmly into the last coach.

A lecture on punctuality and the reasons for choir outings followed.

I still have the Ian Allan book in which I recorded my first A4 pacific locomotive, and yes I still sing!

David Taylor

If I got trapped in a zoo ...

I think I would be safe, all the animals are safe aren’t they?

Making friends with the animals would be sensible, especially the ones that could find food for me. I would have to keep away from the ones that might think I was food.

I would like to stay with the monkeys as they can do what we can do, and even the things we get told off for doing. If they thought I was important they would share their food with me and play with me that would be really great.

Spying on the animals would be a fun thing to do but I would have to hide until it gets dark. Most of them hunt at night, at least in their natural world they do, and I could help with that, but I must be careful, A few small animals would do the job, but too many and they would be missed.

I like the idea of talking to the animals in their own language and could have great fun copying the hyena-hunting call to the deer and roaring like a lion to the zebras, and anyone can do monkey calls.

Walking with the penguins would be such a laugh, but they might be sleeping. Perhaps polar bear noises would wake them up?

I think it might be a good idea to hold Mum’s hand and leave the zoo with her.

JT

A special delivery (or two)

I heard that being an only child was a bad thing and that soon I would need a brother or sister to keep me company.

Spotting immediately that my toys would be at risk, I argued that they would either get broken or - more likely - be appropriated by the new family member.  This did not go down well with Mum and Dad. 

For quite a long time I believed that my tricycle, Meccano and small train set were safe, as nothing new had come through the post, and life remained normal. Mum was Mum and small boys do not notice that she had put on quite a bit of weight.

Then came the day that Dad told me Mum was going into hospital for a few days and that he would be looking after my meals etc.  Mum came home a few days later with something small, pink, noisy, smelly and sometimes wet.

This invader I was told was my new sister Alison. Was I pleased? Not very, but my toys seemed to be quite safe for the time being.

Life settled down for a couple of years and I began to get acquainted with my new sister.  Then disaster struck. Mum went into hospital again and I knew what was coming, either another sister or a brother.

When Elaine arrived at home Mum said, ‘here is another little sister for you, what do you have to say?’  I remember saying, ‘oh no, not another!’  My grandmother, who lived with us, came to my rescue. She was to come to my rescue many times in the follow weeks and years!

Now in later life, I value both my sisters enormously, and they are a great comfort to myself and my wife during the Covid outbreak.  I have to thank God that He can see further than I can, or ever could.

David Taylor

A Song of Covid Year (in the style of Flanders & Swann)

January brings the tax returns,
I hate them so my poor brain burns.

February pancake day.
Nice gluten free pancakes? No way!

By March I’m fed up of the grey and wintry weather,
Praying for some sunshine to give us all a breather.

April’s days draw longer but still cold,
Spring on the horizon – to that hope we must hold.

May is greener and warmer and brighter,
Summer seems earlier than when I was a blighter.

June – nearly holidays – if I can, I’ll go away
before schools break up and kids are in the way.

July, my birthday month, a reminder that I’m getting on.
Socially-distanced coffee outdoors is all that can be done.

August – I miss the sea, will try to get there then
if the world gets back to normal and we can travel once again.

September, kids go back to school.
Will I have had my Covid jab by then so I can go back too?

October is my favourite month, the colours crisp and brown.
Collecting conkers and acorns that the autumn storms blow down.

November with its bonfire night once again comes round,
watching fireworks from Velux windows as they go off over town.

December’s dark and chilly days, but a bit of Christmas cheer
makes everything seem bearable, even in this Covid year.

Then January brings the tax return,
one blessing, it's much quicker with so little that’s been earned!

Alison Mott