A Change Of Scene.
I packed a bag and scooted off to Big Sister's in Kent.
I haven't sent a Christmas card in years, but with Photoshop and WhatsApp, was suddenly inspired.
Before I left, the circlip for the starter Bendix arrived in the post from Mr Holmes. I might warm it up a tad before fitting it as it's very easy to break - not red hot, but just enough to give it a tiny bit of 'give' without losing its (and my) temper.
The wiring diagrams continue their development. Notably, the ammeter has been connected between the battery and the fuse board. Although correct, I'm told there is a potential problem with this arrangement in that it can be the source of combustion if the current is too much for the wire. The battery I'll be fitting is a racing car battery with only a 35Ah rating, so a conflagration is unlikely, but I could be wrong. I'm not yet confident that the wiring of the dip switch will produce the desired result, and it occurred to me that the startled expression of the rev counter might also be trying to tell me something?
I've revisited and corrected some of the connections which go from the relays to the first distribution board. My electronics chum in Norfolk has told me to which tab on its relay, the cooling system controller's green wire should be connected - a helpful omission in the manufacturer's instructions. My best guess had somehow managed to blow a regulator in the control box, but he was very polite about it.
This diagram annotates the distribution board that sits in the passenger footwell wall and services the rest of the car.
A daily walk - something I've lost the habit of over the last twelve months - is part of the Christmas routine. Woods and mud are in plentiful supply. Here on the farm in Suffolk it's very exposed, and in the winter, battling against a chilly 30kt breeze is enough to put me off the outing. Summer is quite the opposite, but with lots to do in the workshop, you can understand my dilemma. I'll have to work on my discipline.
As usual, I came away with a Christmas cake that's laced with at least one bottle of Cointreau. Word gets around, but if I'm mean with it, I can string it out until Easter.
In anticipation of his New Year's celebrations, my chum Rolls popped in to have his trident fixed (echoes of Poseidon - see 'Brontes, Steropes and Pyracmon'). Over time, its head had come loose and so was becoming less effective in encouraging those lingering party guests to leave. A good grade aluminium rivet (which affords some shear capability) pressed through the cone and into the shaft, did the trick. I declined an invitation, and though almost always the first to leave the party, being much engaged elsewhere was the safer strategy.
Once again, I thank all my audience for their continued attention, and wish everyone a happy, creative, and prosperous 2024.