On Thu, 16 May 2013 22:36:55 +0000 (UTC), email@example.com
(Andrew Gabriel) wrote:
Kids should be introduced to kitchen appliances at an early age, but
under some degree of supervision.
My early experience of the Kenwood Chef involved sticking a knife into
the blade, snapping the blade of the knife (and the mixer), said
broken bits whirling past my ear with a deadly trumm noise and one of
them embedding itself in the doorpost.
In the same kitchen, the following year, my first foray into home
brewing involved following a recipe on Blue Peter for ginger beer.
It all went swimmingly. Right up to the point where all the dozen
bottles exploded in rapid sequence, late one evening.
The recipe had said nothing about releasing the pressure every so
The bits of glass embedded in the ceiling and woodwork were a mute
testimony to the charnel house that kitchen would have been if the
bottles had let go during a busy period.
Just reminded me about a demijohn full of damson wine. It was
placed to ferment in a corner of a newly decorated bedroom, but
frothed so vigorously that the foam made it through the air lock.
As each bubble burst, it spattered the wall. The colour nearly
matched the emulsion, but was a somewhat darker shade.
Chris J Dixon Nottingham UK
Many years ago my mother used to boil linseed in an open pan to make an
additive for the horse's feed, allegedly it improved their coat. Any
way, one day she had the bright idea of doing this in the pressure
cooker. Some where along the line she had forgotten that it increased in
volume quite a bit while being boiled.
The result was that the mass inside forced the little weight off the top
of the cooker that was the pressure regulator and a volcanic like
eruption of scalding hot linseed hit the ceiling. For sometime it was
impossible to get any where near the cooker to turn the power off.
Spectacular though :-)
She never tried this method again....................
On Tuesday, May 14, 2013 8:34:43 PM UTC+1, Mentalguy2k8 wrote:
More of a near miss, but...
Many years ago I was helping a charity out - they were using a former hospi
tal building owned by the Department of Transport (waiting to be demolished
for a bypass). One day I went in and noticed the drains seemed to be overf
lowing, even though we weren't using much water. A bit of detective work sh
owed that the drain ran along the back of the building, then out to a littl
e housing estate (presumably they'd sold of some of the grounds for develop
ment, and the developer just tapped into the existing drain). All the house
s were on higher ground, so none had noticed the problem.
Continuing to follow the drain, I finally found a manhole that wasn't full,
just before the sewer in the road, and a bit of inspection showed some roo
ts blocking the inlet. Unfortunately the manhole was pretty deep, so althou
gh I had a hook around 6 feet long to try to move the roots, I still had to
lean a fair way into the hole.
As I removed the blockage a tidal wave of backed up sewage started pouring
into the manhole - it rose to within an inch of the top...
Fortunately I was younger and fitter then (and I had expected a fair bit to
come through, I'd just underestimated), so I got out just in time, with on
ly a bruise where I'd hit something in my hurry to get out.
On 15/05/2013 14:45, firstname.lastname@example.org wrote:
Reminds me of a similar episode at my mum's place... she was complaining
of a blocked drain, so I went round with rods etc to help clear. We
finally established that most of the run down the side of the house was
clear, and so it must be the final few yards to the manhole. Alas there
was what they termed a "weaver" in this drain - a vented vertical drop
tube that intercepts the end of the drain and drops it about another 3
or 4 feet before it enters the manhole. This means you can't rod right
through from the top, and rodding down the weaver was not shifting it
either. So mother decides we need to go down the manhole and rod back up
the last bit of pipe. I was going to do the gallant thing, but she
insisted on going down since she was wearing old clothes already (and in
those days, enthusiasm often got the better of her)...
So there she is at the bottom of this probably 10 - 12' deep hole
banging away with a couple of rods against some blockage (I don't think
she had thought this one through to the logical conclusion!) Then after
a moment there was a loud gurgle, and a sound of rushing water.
Realisation rapidly downed that she was about to be in the shit
(literally). There are foot holds set into the wall, but they were not
quick to scale in a panic. There was a scream, and I saw this hand reach
into the air for assistance. So I reached down, grabbed it and pulled
hard. Fortunately the combination of 5' something diddy mother, and
somewhat larger me, meant she came out of the hole like a cork out of a
bottle - with nothing more than slightly damp shoes!
Reminds me of a post here many years ago from a farmer (IIRC) who
had a campsite on his land, and the pipe to the septic tank had
blocked. Had to go into the manhole to rod it from downstream of
the blockage. He had thought to put wellies on, but had not
thought through how much shit a campsite generates, and the
ensueing gush overtopped his wellies before he could get out.
[email address is not usable -- followup in the newsgroup]
Using a pipe cutter to cut the service valve (closed) off the end of
the cold feed to the wachine machine without checking that, however
tortuous the route would need to be, it might, just might, be
connected to the rising main.
Not mine, a friend's (honest! he told me about it yesterday). He was 8m
up a ladder trimming branches. A branch fell and knocked the ladder out
from under him. He was incredibly lucky, falling on the ladder which
was on top of branches, cushioning his fall. Only bad bruising.
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