If this is really what’s called work then i’m a lucky man.
This morning I had to be outside before six, but that was actually a privilege. As the sun started filtering gently through the trees it was my quite amazing job to be out there feeding deer by hand!
I never believed that it would be possible, but sure enough I literally had to stand there super still with my hand out holding the funny pellets they eat, and they’d come and take them from me.
Meanwhile the camera crew were capturing the moment that the deer would reach forward, just before you saw muggins here standing looking like a plonker in the middle of the field.
After that the groundsman, who is also the deer keeper fed the whole herd by walking along with a heavy bag of pellets, spraying them all over the ground, but in a well rehearsed arc that was just what the camera director needed to make his film.
The confusing thing is that the camera man is called a director of photography, the director is the director, and then there’s a guy called a focus puller who does pretty much nothing other than follow them around focusing the camera. Apparently it’s a difficult job as you have to pre-empt what the director of photography is going to do and then be focussed on the right bit by the time the camera gets to it.
I can’t even pretend that I would have the patience for that bit as you have to accept the instructions they just bark out at you without getting pissed off. I would be sacked in no time.
But when it comes to feeding the deer, it seems that I’m a natural!
It’s amazing how easy stock taking can be when you use a good labelling system.
Making barcode labels is dead easy if you work with someone like Data Label down south (follow the link). I found that the best thing was, I rang up without a clue, and they talked me through everything I had to do.
I was thinking about it today as the guy who owns the golf club asked me to help with a stock take of the shop, after I’d previously done something similar for his cellars. He’s not worried about theft, so I’ll label up the boxes and then they can scan each one as they open it, and be able to keep tabs on what’s left.
In the cellars we were much more strict, everything was labelled there, and we still need to work out how to stop people making off with whole barrels – at least we now know for sure when lone has gone.
Funny old thing golf. Dad loves it and spends a fortune on membership (good job as that’s how come I was asked to do the work in the first place). I have had a go a couple of times and I just can’t get the coordination together to whack such a silly little ball with such a great long stick. I think for many it’s as much about the drinking and networking afterwards as it is about the game.
Give me a walk with the dogs any day.
Just as I was getting a bit more confident the work seems to have dried up again.
I sorted the three visas for the fellow, well, it’s underway anyway, and he wants to meet me next time he’s in the north, but he didn’t say when.
And the guy in Penzance was beside himself with joy when I swung into his nice drive with the Mercedes coupe. He even took me for lunch in this place called Tremenheere Sculpture Gardens – I really liked this strange and simple sculpture, and then I met the guy who made it. He was a true Cornish giant at a full seven feet tall, yet posh, and quite gentle too.
I told him (the buyer, not the sculptor) that I was hitching back and if he’d like to drop me at a good lay-by then I’d be delighted. He was shocked and even offered to pay for my train fare – but I explained my scheme to get a few more pennies out of the job, and he seemed to appreciate my approach.
So that was a great job. But the work has dried up since.
I don’t blow my cash though. In fact I haven’t touched the money from the drive, not even what I saved by hitching back. It was an easy hitch too. Three pick ups, and dropped a mile or so from home.
I should ask dad if I can do more for him, but there’s something that stops me every time. Well, it’s no mystery, it’s the fact that he doesn’t like me much, and that leaves me less than loving towards him.
Hey ho. Maybe the new year will bring new opportunities.
Most of what I have been doing over the past few weeks has been related to driving in some form or other, whether it’s getting dad’s clients around the country, or delivering and collecting flash, but ageing cars.
But now there’s something different on the cards for me.
It turns out the chap I picked up for dad quite liked me and thought I might be an enterprising fellow (although I’m flattered, I don’t actually think that’s the case, but hey, I don’t want to disillusion him).
He has asked if I could look into getting visas for some people he wants to have come and work in the UK from his factory in Malaysia.
When I first heard this it wasn’t dad who told me, it was one of his team, and I thought it was a wind up. But that evening (back on Wednesday it was, I remember because mum made a great spaghetti Bolognese which is my favourite dinner) the old man started telling me that he had a job for me, and the cogs started slotting into place. I did some digging around online and found a company called IXP Visas who seem to have an amazing reputation for advising their clients on what to do. I need to source three at the moment, but if that goes well dad suggested that there could be more work from the chap. He’s based down in Oxford, so I have no idea why he is interested in me, but what the hell, if it helps me find more work then I’m game for giving it a try.
Watch this space. The inspector could soon be your man to go to when you need something moving from here to there, whether that thing is a car, or a person. That sounds like it could be a little sinister, but I don’t mean it in that way.
It’s funny that while I have no money myself, i seem to live in a world where money flows freely.
Mum and Dad certainly seem to have plenty and they look after me well, as he is keen to remind me all the time. I have never signed on, in fact I don’t think that I’d be allowed to while i”m under their roof. And how funny is that? That pride would stop him getting back from the tax man who he seems to resent so.
Some of the people dad used to work with have set themselves up abroad, to live in the sun, and to avoid the tax man getting his paws on their pile. I was reading this article on ExPats radio this morning that says that Japan is the most expensive place to live in the world. That’s probably why they live in such tiny houses most of the time. While they are tiny, many of them are very cool though.
Look at this cool place. For the price of this you could build a palace here, but in Japan they seem to prefer to be in the best location that can, and then make the most of their space by having very few possessions.
I love looking at architecture and design sites but when you look at Japanese places it’s as though they haven’t moved in yet a lot of the time, there’s so little stuff.
I find the idea of living like that attractive, but then I look around me and wonder if I could bare to get rid of anything. I supposed that provided I have my music I’m not too bothered about the rest.
After Japan the next most expensive place is Switzerland. I reckon that Japan would be more fun though. Switzerland looks too clean and ordered, while Japan looks a bit mad.
Norway comes next. That’d be interesting. After all, the women are gorgeous, but I guess they’d not be interested in a low rent ex-mechanic who delivers what are probably dodgy cars every now and then for an ex-boss.