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ARRGGHHH! Did you hear me
at the weekend? Did you hear
my cries of fury, frustration
and plain old-fashioned temper?
Yes, I was indulging in
that great May Day Bank Holiday tradition.
I was assembling the new lawn
mower.
Now I am old enough to remember
when you bought things ready made,
when furniture was delivered in a van by
an old man and a boy who could manoeuvre
it carefully and skilfully into
your home and when lawn mowers came
ready to snip and roll with no more to
do than take off the price tag. Not any
more.
The problem with self assembly lies
not only with the self that's doing the assembling,
but also with the instructions
that self is trying to follow. They are usually
written by someone in a distant
country - Sweden, China, or, in the case
of my lawn mower, Germany, with only
the slightest knowledge of English.
I always thought that they were also
written by someone who didn't know
what they were doing. I was wrong. They
are written by someone who knows exactly
what they are doing, but completely
lacks the ability to convey the information
to those who don't, ie me.
"Clip handle together and fix with
screws provided." Which screws? There
are three different sorts, long, short,
plastic and metal. How am I meant to
know? The diagram is no help, being
small and blurry. Clearly, the person
writing the instructions thought it was
all so obvious that there was no need to
explain. Well, there was.
And what are the red plastic lever
things for? I can't find them in the instructions,
on the diagram or even on
the great big picture of the lawn mower
on the box. So now they are on the shelf
in the garage. Left over. I don't think you
are meant to have things left over.
It's always the same when I assemble
furniture. I am always left with a handful
of screws, or mysteriously odd
shaped bits of chipboard. Or a hinge. In
the old MFI days everything came with
a built-in wobble. My endless versions
of Ikea's Billy bookcase seem solid
enough, but creak ominously.
And now Argos are selling a flatpack
house.
Five rooms, underfloor heating, laminate
flooring, patio doors and a "useful
loft for storage". It costs £13,000 and they
say it could be assembled "in a day or
two".
A day or two? Ha! It took me an entire
afternoon to assemble a lawnmower,
which didn't even have a door, let alone
a floor, heating, windows and a roof.
Still, it cut the grass all right, even if one
side of the handle was higher than the
other. Maybe I used the wrong screws.
Or maybe I should have used those red
lever thingies.
If you are tempted to rush off and buy
a flat pack house, stop right now. You
know it will only lead to more ruined
weekends, bashed thumbs, short temper
and quite possibly divorce. Build that
house in your garden and you will be the
one who will end up living in it. Alone.
All I hope is that they have not asked
an expert to write the instructions. The
expert should instead get his granny to
do them, or his four-year-old child, or
next door's cat. Or anyone who is only
vaguely aware of the difference between
a hammer and a screwdriver. Then, at
least, they should be clear enough for us
all to follow.
On the other hand, on my track record,
if I try and assemble the flatpack house,
I'll probably end up with lots left over -
maybe even enough for a nice little bungalow
too.
GOOD to see Prince Harry's girlfriend
Chelsey Davy watching him get his campaign
medal for his service in
Afghanistan. Chelsey gets a bad press
because she is blonde and rich and likes
to party.
But she also has a good degree, a fearsome
brain and a life of her own. Let's
hope they manage to keep her in the
family.
MANY thanks to all those of you
who wrote trying to solve my account
keeping problem - I write
so few cheques that I run out of space in
the little book in front of my cheque
book, but online banking has no way of
allowing for money in direct debits, already
committed but still in my account.
The answers included suggestions for
old-fashioned little cash books, computer
spread sheets and - from a bank manager
- photocopying extra pages of the
transaction record and clagging them in
my old cheque book.
All letters, emails and photocopies received
with much thanks.
But we are all agreed that it shouldn't
be beyond the wit of the big banks to produce
a nifty little tool to do the job
online.
Otherwise, in the glorious 21st Century,
we're still left with a pencil stub and
a bit of paper.
I AM vastly intrigued by Pete Doherty's
comment on life in Wormwood
Scrubs, from which he has just been released:
"It's all gangsters and Radio 4,"
he said.
Drug deals while listening to The
Archers? Shootings to the shipping forecast?
Blackmail while listening to
Woman's Hour? It was never like this in
Porridge.
1:44pm Wednesday 7th May 2008
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