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-
- Sometimes we are advised, with subtlety or otherwise, that it might be
- an idea to tidy up the shack, because visitors are expected (and other
- extraneous reasons). And we may even be requested / persuaded / coerced
- - delete as required - to apply a coat of paint to the interior surfaces
- of said abode ....
-
- On Decorating the Shack
- -----------------------
-
- A certain sentient being known by his parents, wife and friends as
- Algernon Fudge was recovering from the shock of passing the Morse Test,
- when he burnt the toast.
-
- Yet another layer of carbon particles adhered in its turn to the
- pre-existing strata of chip fat and soot which bedecked the walls of the
- Fudge residence. A shiver went down his spine as he realised that the
- day was drawing nigh when the reflectance coefficient of the kitchen
- walls would fall below the threshold at which the Voice would be
- activated.
-
- 'Careless oaf! Thou canst paint the kitchen for thy pains!' Oh dear!
- Thought our hero. And he knew this was not the end of it. Sure enough,
- the Voice resumed its tirade and with a parting salvo warned our hapless
- ham that Morse Test or no Morse Test, the shack must be processed in
- like manner, lest our impending visitors believe that they have entered
- a sewage complex in the bowels of Paris. Lack-a-day! This is trouble
- indeed (in common parlance known more familiarly as hassle) - surmised
- Algernon, his nerves in shreds. He must forthwith repair to the paint
- shop, and procure a can of glop of appropriate size and colour with
- which to coat the walls of their love-nest.
-
- Aha! Algernon's optic orbs emanated a dull glow just visible through the
- dispersing smoke, as he realised, on his way out to the paint shop, that
- his good spouse would be away all afternoon. So if he was quick, he
- could work through both rooms, presenting the results as trade for peace
- and tranquility on her return. And all this could be done without
- disturbance, avoiding the necessity to scrape the woodwork and peel off
- the layers of fat. If challenged, he would pivot round, paint can in
- hand and present before her riven gaze the 24-point font - 'No undercoat
- required!' hoping that this might also be interpreted as 'no preparation
- needed.'
-
- By mid-afternoon, Algernon had painted the kitchen walls, and the floor,
- and had cleaned the floor. Before him lay the vista of his shack. In
- terms of the challenge he had been set, his first impression was one of
- complexity. Access to the walls was hindered in most placed by the
- various trappings of amateur radio and, in his case, computing. The
- things that worked were inter- spersed with numerous items of surplus
- and spare ilk which might come in handy but which clearly didn't at that
- moment. Indeed, the impediment to accomplishing his task seemed
- insurmountable. In desperation, he wondered if it might be better to hie
- to the motor spares shop and buy a spray can. But no - thankfully he
- dismissed that thought and began to tear at a web of cables in an attept
- to start one corner. This would give him the confidence he needed to
- continue. That is, if he had not nudged a box of valves which launched
- itself from a high shelf into a into free fall trajectory.
-
- With an anguished wail, our hero fled from the scene, returning with the
- vacuum cleaner. Before switching on, he moved the paint can to a safe
- distance and combed the last slivers of glass out of his thinning hair.
- He worked through the rest of the day, the paintbrush occasionally
- making contact with the wall. Perhaps if he painted ALL the knobs, his
- HF transceiver might not look so bad. The computer keyboard was more of
- a problem. The nightmare continued well into evening, and anxiously he
- noted the time ever more frequently. Twelve minutes and counting. But
- perhaps she'll be late [or early!] The door-latch! And there she was...
-
- On returning from her up-town expedition, Mrs. Fudge placed the shopping
- on the kitchen table and looked around to admire the handiwork. Of
- course, a thorough job on the kitchen would take until about now, she
- reflected. 'Algy darling!' she shrilled, 'I've brought someone to help
- you clean up the shack!'
-
- The hair on our hero's neck bristled. Someone ELSE in the shack? And
- mother-in-law wasn't particularly renowned for manual dexterity. 'Just a
- moment, dear!' he called, and disappeared via the back door. Shortly
- afterwards, he trundled a laden wheelbarrow, trailing cables, through
- the kitchen. 'What are you doing?' Mrs. Fudge asked, as her hubby
- hobbled through the front door, jangling the contents of the barrow down
- the step outside the porch. His mouth twitched as his lips curled into
- an oafish grin, and his eyes rolled as he stumbled towards the car on
- the driveway.
-
- 'I'm going mobile!' He said.
-
- ----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
- Best wishes (!) de Duncan G0SIB @ GB7EVY
-
- *** EOF
-