Bellerophon symbol, variation 7 jonath.co.uk
Sunday 2nd November 2008

A strange encounter somewhere near Bentham
So, yesterday, yeah, Stu and I went to Ingleton to collect the Morsø stove that M**** had somehow managed to track down (perhaps because their web-site doesn't list their full range of stoves). So we got to the shop and, conscious of the fact that I had had to park quite some distance from the shop itself, I told the guy there, "Erm. I wasn't quite sure where to park. Can I park outside your shop?" and he replied, ominously, "Oh, it's not here," but then went to the back of the store to got on with the lengthy business of doing all the paper-work. I reluctantly handed over my debit card and waited . . . and waited. At some point, a telephone conversation took place between the shop owner and the person from whom I would be collecting the stove from; it went a bit like this: "Yes, the Morsø stove, squirrel, ribbed sides . . . Yes? No . . . . ribbed sides. Squirrel. Yes. He's going to pick it up. Morsø. Ribbed sides. Yes? No, no - the Morsø. Yes, that's right. No - ribbed sides. Yes? Okay. And he's going to pick it up now. No, no, no. The Morsø, with ribbed sides. Right? Okay. Bye." Eventually, I was presented with a largely hand-written receipt, my debit card and a photocopied, hand-drawn map with directions to a nearby farm, where I could collect my stove from. So, after a bit advice about register plates, chimney liners and some other weird things, we left. About a mile or two away, the directions led us easily to this farm where a massive lorry trailer was parked up with its back gate/door open, and a large Morsø cardboard box was visible, pretty much confirming we had found the right place. Just as I'm thinking where to park, this farmer appears, looking more like a caricature of a farmer: oiled jacket, wellington boots, bright red cheeks, strange hat. We got out to meet him and he said something like, "Alright there? Mr Marshall, is it? Might wanna back yer car up there, yip" except I only managed to pick out a few intelligible words and the rest I just kind of assumed. So I backed the car up to the trailer and the farmer helped get the stove in (it weighed about 75 kilos) and that was that. I'm glad I didn't have to converse much more, as it would have been rather awkward, not being familiar with this strange dialect. Anyway . . . a very strange set-up, all in all. But we got the stove, that's the main thing. I was kinda wondering how many more of these Morsø stoves they had squirreled (see what I did there?) away in that lorry. Given the demand for this stove, it was tempting to buy their remaining stock but then I completely forgot to check whilst at the farm; I blame the farmer for bewildering me with his weird farmer dialect and manner.
Entry made by jonath at 09:47:06 | leave a comment (5 made, 5 approved) | go to latest entries

08:07:31 up 51 days, 22:26, 3 users, load average: 0.30, 0.49, 0.86