didnt you say you _were_ a grunt? I was asking if you were
grunting as an hod carrier?
(my dad was a builder) These days they have those little
conveyor belts to take the bricks up to higher floors, I
dont think anyone here in oz would even know what an hod
carrier is.
I seem to be having a great deal of difficulty being
understood lately. Sometimes it seems that the english I
speak is very very different than the english everyone else
uses. Oh well.
j
Robin Hamilton wrote:
>
> > hod carrier?
>
> Not quite, Josie -- hod carriers would be grunts, carrying the bricks.
> 'Twas the brickies laid them, and that was where the skill came in.
>
> Robin
>
> >
> > Robin Hamilton wrote:
> > >
> > > > My dad was a brickie, y'know, Rob.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > 'Tis a small world.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Best
> > > >
> > > > Dave
> > >
> > > Brickies got paid more -- they were trained.
> > >
> > > On the site, I was doing grunt work.
> > >
> > > Robin
> > >
> > > (My [think I told you this] grandaddy was a carpenter. Bloody awful one
> at
> > > that. No wonder he entered the Ministry.
> > >
> > > Which didn't cause me any problems, but it sure as hell did Dear Dead
> Dad.
> > >
> > > When Father walked up the (Gilmore)Hill, grampa had been there (late
> > > entrant) only ten years before. And everyone who taught my father had
> > > taught grampa. And remembered him. Vividly.
> > >
> > > Pissed Father off something awful.
> > >
> > > So he took up snooker.
> > >
> > > D2)
> > >
> > > I mean, the worst I had was Hannah Buchan, who'd taught my mother and
> later
> > > taught me.
> > >
> > > Only, when Hannah taught Mother (in the forties), Hannah was in her
> early
> > > twenties and used (so Mother told me) to sit on the edge of the lectern
> and
> > > swing her legs.
> > >
> > > By the time I got there, she'd compromised for this smelly and asthmatic
> > > sheepdog which snored throughout tutorials.
> > >
> > > Odd.
> > >
> > > CP
> > >
> > > Come to think of it, I irritated Hannah no end. There were three high
> > > points.
> > >
> > > The Dryden Essay ("DON'T read Mr. Morgan's article." So, natch, the
> only
> > > work I cite is Eddie's "Dryden's Drudgery".)
> > >
> > > Then there was Piers Plowman, which for some odd reason I subtitled with
> > > quotes from the OED on "melange". Don't ask me why -- +I+ don't know.
> > >
> > > But the worst (in my final year) was the Bradley Medal Essay. I don't
> know
> > > what bugged Hannah more over that. My walking out half-way through (I
> was
> > > supposed to be chairing a meeting of the Literary Society, and I was
> pushed
> > > for time. Christ, if looks could kill ...) Or that I won it anyway ...
> > >
> > > 3O
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