Though I’ve written about Bempton Cliffs today the reality of my day was slightly less open air. With a couple of short bursts of visiting the front room of the shop I sat in a windowless room typing all day.
The eBay auctions for the silver stamp ingots ended today with an average price of just over £6, which was disappointing. We should perhaps have put them out a few at a time. In terms of taking the rough with the smooth we’ve been taking quite a lot of rough recently.
I was given the job of sorting out how to make a listing with a drop-down menu. It seems simple enough, and it sort of is. Unfortunately I didn’t save my work often enough and ended up wiping out several hours of painstaking labour.
This, as I loudly remarked, was quite irksome.
To make things worse I actually did it twice, though I wiped off different work each time. The second time was while I was shutting down after paying for some items I had bought in auction. This was very embarrassing as I should not, of course, have been doing private things in work time.
When I eventually finish listing the first series (85 Cards) guess what my next job is. This has the potential for making the shillings look like top grade intellectual exertion.
It’s 21 hours later…
I didn’t finish the post, though I did go to work and sort of cracked the problems of posting eBay listings with drop-down menus.
Not only that but I did it via a couple of near disasters, one of which saw me with several thousand entries instead of 85, mostly unpriced and with all the stock counts re-set to one.
It was accompanied by much wailing, rending of clothes and a good helping of dust and ashes. Say what you like about the Old Testament, but they knew how to do lamentation with style.
Anyway, thanks to my newly developed enthusiasm for saving my work, disaster was averted. As a reward I…
…was allowed to carry on with Numbers 86-170.
At least they are all proper footballers, with names like Billy and Mick and Ron. Quite a few had evidence of facial trauma, of the sort associated with “old-fashioned centre-forwards”. In some ways it’s quite refreshing to see footballers from the more muscular days of the game, and to see cards rather than stickers.
In other ways, it isn’t. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is football cards.
More from Bempton Cliffs to follow…
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Coincidentally, we were talking about Franny Lee at work only yesterday, and whether the epic bust up he had with a Leeds player was Billy Bremner, but it wasn’t, it was Norman ‘bites yer ankles’ Hunter. Naturally, Youtube has footage. Lee was giving away a considerable reach and weight advantage, but didn’t seem remotely discouraged.
Football was more contact sport and less ballet in those days. 🙂
It amazes me how many of these footballer’s names and faces I recognise!
I used to have an earlier set of cards – it had more Blackburn players. 🙂
🙂
Phew! What a day! Time for some more birds.
🙂
Lots of frustrations there, however, making a drop down menu sounds impressively beyond my competence
It’s teetering on the edge of mine too!
Sadly, at least two of your six on the last photograph have passed on. Jeff Astle as a direct result of heading the football all through his career.
Yes, I recall his funeral on the local news. Modern footballers would probably crack a metatarsal if they had to kick a leather ball on a wet day.
…with nicknames like Chopper or Nobby.
Great days… 🙂
When I lived over in Geordieland, they were all named Gaz and Daz and Baz, and Stig and Stiv and Sting, although they weren’t all footballers…there was one Snorky though, and a dwarf leather-clad motorcyclist named Phiz. There were no other names, except for females, and they sounded the very same.
All good traditional names. 🙂
They were where I was living. Phiz was a riot–he was very intelligent and funny, and had waist-length hair and a black leather motorcycle jacket and boots and some kind of motorbike, and someone had told him to look winningly into the eyes of the ladies whom he wanted to mermerise, so I recall some spaniel-sincere looks. I never actually saw him standing up, but always on the bike. I don’t know how he thought he was going to get lucky if he never got off the bike and never had anyone else on it with him–
Must admit I’ve met plenty of people called Gaz and Daz but never a Phiz – sounds quite a character. 🙂
Oh he was, like Alf the one-eyed street cat who lived near us–Newcastle was no picnic in those days. There was actually blood on the sidewalks downtown all the time, and you could tell by looking if it was a nose or a this or a that, by the trail it made. I was a kickboxer and worked in a wholefood store. I was much younger than I am now!
I lived in Middlesbrough in the late 80’s – I didn’t realise they had wholefood stores in the North East.
Ours was a little mom and pop one on a corner in Heaton, run by a nice couple named Dick and his wife Jo. That’s where I had those great cheese savoury sandwiches–I may have worked there something like 1990 to 1992ish.
Sounds like a good time.
The people were genuinely nice, as were many of the customers. One guy still owes me a villa in France, though, since he bet me that I could not cut exactly 1/4 pound of cheese by wire just by looking at it and cutting, and I did and it measured .25 pound on the machine, and I’m still waiting for the villa.
You can never trust a gambler. Great skill with cheese. 🙂
I was superb at that time of my life. I wouldn’t bet much on me in the Cheddar Preakness or Brie Point-to-Point (or anything else made up) now though–
These skills need using or you lose them…
And getting arrested with a cheese wire might get one in trouble or taken for a ye-older photo framer, so I seldom carry them now.
Probably wise. 🙂