Showing my age a bit now with Bob a Job week which was actually reintroduced in the UK in May this year after a twenty year absence.
These days though, a bob (one shilling, a twentieth of a pre decimal pound, and worth a mere 5 pence today) doesn’t seem very much in payment, and I heard someone say A Quid a Kid, but that could have been for something else entirely.
I was never a Brownie or a Girl Guide, though my sister was. She collected badges as the former, but I can never remember her in a guide’s uniform.
I remember asking my Mum why I hadn’t been a Brownie, and was told it was because I hadn’t asked.
Oh. My fault then.
Come to think of it, I don’t think either of my brothers were Cubs or Scouts either.
Hubby and I have a list of jobs to do here and have decided to do one a day.
Sadly they are not the kind of job for a Cub or Scout though.
Today’s task was changing the gear box oil.
The old oil had to be pumped out as unlike a car, there is insufficient space underneath to drain it.
We were given a little tip by one of the Old Hands to use a measuring jug for what was taken out so that we knew exactly how much to put back in.
It was a bit of a game, especially as the pipe on the pump was too fat to go in the hole, but we had some aquarium piping we’d used to cover Maggie’s gate and that fitted a treat.
What came out was pretty sludgy, a bit like chocolate sauce.
Hubby had prepared for this event having purchased a funnel some time ago.
The thing was, the spout was also too fat, and the little bit of extra pipe that came with it wasn’t much thinner.
I have always been Hubby’s gofer, so I went up to town to purchase a smaller funnel.
You would think this would be a straightforward act.
No, we are talking US here, nothing these days is straightforward!
The only funnels I could get in the pound shop were bigger than the one we had, and were designed with car engine lubricants in mind.
I knew what I wanted though, and so headed to another cheapie shop and their cooking aisle.
Sure enough, three small nozzled funnels for £1, and I picked up a few other things of interest while I was there.
Getting back to the boat, the nozzle of the smallest funnel was still too big for the hole, but not to be beaten, we looked around for something to improvise with.
Hubby is a stinker for Kitchenitus Pilferous and I have lost count of the number of knives I’ve lost to his tool box.
Today it was the turn of the humble biro, though even the outer sleeve on the basic design was too fat for what we wanted .
We carefully measured out the exact amount of oil (nice and clear, like cherry syrup) and Hubby gently and slowly poured it in.
Not a drop was spilled or wasted, and we now have a ‘kit’ ready for the job next year.