Anyway, the box is assembled and now we just have to make a few adjustments to it, so that it doesn't actually kill Harper. So Dad and I went to a few hardware mega-outlets today and got wildly different advice as to how to provide a mechanism to avoid the heavy lid ever falling heavily and squashing his lovely fingers and/or head. We went to a car dismantlers out at Naenae, where you pay admission and get your hand stamped - when I saw Martin at the hospital, he asked what band I'd been to see - and you take your own tools in and remove the parts yourself. Dad had an idea that the bits that make your hatchback rook go up and down smoothly would maybe do the trick. A chap in a forklift truck whizzed up and down the lanes between the lines of cars, dropping off fresh carcasses and picking up used-up ones to drop off with the ... I don't know what it's called, but it was certainly amazing enough that I stood at the gate for ages and just watched it dismember cars and dispatch them to the compactor.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
My dad finished putting the box for Harper together. It hasn't been easy, because there isn't anywhere to do this work under cover at my house, and the weather has been intermittently rainy over the last ten days. Then there's the fact that I have only rudimentary tools - no skillsaw or plane or drill - so Dad borrowed a few things from my neighbour Geoff.
The dismantlers don't allow anyone under 15 to come into the yard, but you can still get a fine view of the mechanical carnage from the carpark. I'm going to bring Sweeney out tomorrow after we've seen his Granny and his Auntie Anne at Petone. I think he'll love it.