About Me

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I never wanted to be a fitter and I didn’t even know what a fitter was or did, until it was too late. The story of how I came to be one can be seen on my website: www.calvertonfitter.com After 45 years in industry working on such diverse things as aeroplanes and textile machinery I thought it would be a good idea to start a blog and to share some of the things that I've seen and done. Some of the posts are funny and some are sad. Some are political and some are about racism. Hopefully you will find them all interesting, and even entertaining!

My Favourite Posts

Some of MY favourite posts include: The Congo, Deltic (3 posts), On the Buses, The Bus Drivers Story, Classical Music and Sherry, Working in Karachi 1988, Going to Karachi 1988 (hilarious), Broken Mug, Tilbury (4 posts).





Wednesday, 20 August 2008

Back from Hospital and Greyhounds

I have just returned home after having a new knee fitted at the Regency Hospital in Macclesfield. All that apprehension for nothing. The spinal block injection was great (and painless) and while I did doze a little I was able to joke with the staff while the new knee was fitted. I wanted a shiny stainless steel one with oilite bushes and a couple of grease nipples but the request was declined so I've got a titanium and high molecular density polyurethane one instead. The hospital was the best hotel I've ever stayed in (I was a NHS patient) and the staff were great. I have to admit that when the spinal block wore off I had a very uncomfortable night and I'd swear that morphine has no effect on me. Thats not a complaint- I've got a new knee.

While laid up I noticed that the greyhound track at Walthamstow has closed and it reminded me of a guy I met in around 1990 who owned a greyhound. At the time I was self employed and had a small industrial unit in Oldham where I designed and built machinery. The unit next door renovated wooden pallets and employed the dog owner as their labourer and general dogsbody (oh dear!). This guy never washed or changed his clothes, "Why should I, I'll only get dirty again?", and it was always essential to stay upwind of him. One weekend he and his wife took the dog in their Reliant Robin to a race meeting in Newcastle (just imagine that journey with the smell) and because the dog hadn't raced for a while and was unfit fed it on sausage and bet on it to come last. That naturally changed the betting odds but the dog won its race and he was warned by the bookies never to go to that track again. And he'd bet on it to loose.
It transpired that the Reliant Robin was only insured third party as "nobody steals 'em". This one was stolen and dumped in the Rochdale Canal. You've probably already guessed but one leg of his spectacles was held on with cellotape.
Anyway, I've had enough for now and need a couple of pain killers.

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