Listers
At the risk of hacking this thread to death (I'm only on Digest now) I thought
the
following might be of interest and amuse. In April of last year when I edited
the Triumph
2000 Register magazine, we had two letters from long-suffering wives under the
heading
"Consider the Triumpg Spouse." I've done a copy/paste from the original file -
hope you
enjoy and I can confirm both letters are entirely genuine. One or two very
slight mods to
overcome possible misunderstandings on language terminology. Enjoy
Jonmac
CONSIDER THE "TRIUMPH SPOUSE"
When I offered the opportunity to contribute to this 'little corner' in the
last issue, I
greatly doubted anyone would respond - and certainly not from outside The
Register. Just
goes to show how wrong you can be!
Dear Mr. Macartney,
At long last, someone (you) has realised we exist! I ought to say that my
husband doesn't
belong to the Triumph 2000 Club - we're members of ("Triumph hmm hmm hmm
Federation" - Ed)
and I came across your request when I was having coffee with a girlfriend. Her
husband is
one of your members. She and her other half had seen your request for the
'domestic' view
in your magazine and we compared notes about our own 'little boys.'
Mine is 42, though I do have the real version who is eight.
Ever since last September, my husband has been talking about adjusting the
headlamps on
his car. I don't know why they needed adjusting - they looked alright to me.
Apparently
all this had to be done at night, shining the lights against the garage door,
which, I'd
like to mention, I'd painted on one of the few sunny days of last summer!
You can imagine I didn't take kindly to him putting pencil marks on it, even
though I do
know they'll rub off. Anyway, if I'd called him once that night to say that
supper was
ready, I'd called him half a dozen times. His grandmother was with us for the
day and she
likes her meals promptly. But No, it seemed it was quite alright for our meal
to spoil as
the lights were obviously more important, until a friend with a Spitfire rang,
to talk
about something called tappits? (rocker arms for valve clearances JM)
I've heard about those but I don't know what they do.
That got him in - and after a VERY long call, we sat down to eat. This was
after he'd
washed his hands and used my last clean drying cloth to dry them, leaving a
considerable
amount of oil and dirty washing up liquid on the material in the process !
When the meal was over and cleared away, I sat down to watch TV - but the
doorbell rang.
It was our neighbour to say he'd noticed the car lights were on and my husband
wasn't
doing anything to them. He said perhaps something ought to be done, as the
light from the
lamps was now very dim.
Big panic!
Husband shoots out to the garage to get a battery charger he'd bought the day
before at a
farm sale and found the lead wasn't long enough.
What did he do?
Used the extension reel I use for my iron!
For reasons I can't understand, he then plugged it in my laundry room, though
there is a
plug in the garage.
I should add that the day before, my eight year-old had brought his two gerbils
in from
the garage in their cage. He said my husband had told him they were "in the
way" there,
and as we're now into the depths of winter, they might die of cold.
I don't like having gerbils in the house and the day they arrived, I'd made it
VERY clear
that they'd have to live with the Triumph in the garage. I ought to say that
once upon a
time, my car was in there - but not now.
Anyway, the battery is put on charge and then the same Triumph friend rings
again because
his tappits still aren't tapping, or something. I called to my husband through
the hall
window to say he was wanted. He rushed into the house again (why are tappits
more
important than a hot meal?), tripped over the cable out of my laundry room
which in turn
pulled the gerbil cage on to the floor with a crash of breaking glass - and the
gerbils
escaped. He hadn't realised this and thought they were still trapped by the
upturned cage.
My son, who by this time was in the bath having his hair washed, heard the
noise. He came
rushing downstairs, stark naked, soaking wet, hair full of shampoo and rushed
into the
laundry room. His arrival there, exactly coincided with our cat killing the
remaining
gerbil. The other one (thank god) escaped out of the door into the garden!
You can imagine the fuss and uproar.
An hysterical son, broken glass and protests from husband that he can't hear
the situation
with the friend's tappits. After my son's weeping is a little more under
control, I find
my Grandmother in law, standing in our lounge in her hat and coat, saying she
thinks she
ought to go home and can I take her?. She's very deaf, her hearing aid doesn't
work well
and that means I have to shout at her in order to make myself heard.
That made her think I was having a go at her - and she shouted back at me.
And all because of some headlamps!
I've got a number of other stories - and the way things are going, I might just
start to
tell them to anyone prepared to listen.
Washing out a back axle in paraffin (kerosene) in my kitchen sink is a good one
for
starters.
I think your idea of giving space in your magazine for Triumph Widows is
excellent but the
lunch is now late, because I've stopped my housework to sit down and write this.
My girlfriend told me her husband kept her awake recently, (Oh, really? Tell us
more)
talking about the results of some sort of survey and his bedside light was on
until one in
the morning. When she'd eventually struggled off to sleep, he then woke her up
to say he
thought he ought to use an additive! (For the pending demise of leaded fuel in
the UK) We
both laughed at that - he is over forty, after all.
You have my permission to print this in your magazine if you think it's worth
it, but
please don't print my name. We'd never live it down in our Club if it became
public
knowledge. I'll just close in saying that my husband loves his car and it makes
me so
happy to see him playing with it, but there is a limit. My girlfriend and I
think all of
you Triumph fanatics must have missed something in your childhoods - but it's
clear you're
all having fun - and no, I don't mind making the sandwiches for our picnics.
Yours sincerely
(Name withheld)
AND HERE'S ANOTHER ONE !!!
(crashed in just before we closed for press)
One of my husband's "alternative" therapies for relaxation is rebuilding
automatic
gearboxes. Anyone who knows anything about this particular pleasure will know
that you
need a clean environment to carry out this task and what better than the
stainless steel
draining board in the kitchen!! It is also quite a time consuming procedure and
has to be
fitted in with work and other Triumph related pursuits…….. so 3 days later!!!!
How many other Triumph widows find their annual holidays have to revolve round
"The
National" or "STER" in order for husband get another Triumph fix? In 14 years of
togetherness we have, after a great deal of cajoling and bribery, had only 2
Triumph free
holidays. So no prizes for guessing where the hols are going to be this year -
yeah,
Montrose !!! (location for the 1999 National Meeting)
(Name withheld at contributor request in the interests of domestic harmony)
|