Sweating the cold stuff


I know that there is a recurring theme with my blog posts. But, in my defence, it seems to me that most problems in life relate to logistics; that is, the moving of people or things from one place to another. As I grow older I have come to consider the benefits of staying put. In fact I might be happy if I never had to move anything or anyone ever again.

Recently, I met the lovely Luke. Luke makes icepacks. Icepacks are good for moving dinners from our kitchen to your house. Last week I needed to visit Luke, pick up the icepacks and take them back to the kitchen. Couldn't be too tricky.

Because I rarely do such jobs alone, I had to take the most junior of the recipe testers with me. He wasn't all that keen, until I mentioned that we were going to be travelling in the ute, and there would be a forklift at the end of the trip. He then decided he was very keen indeed.

I messaged Luke to arrange a suitable time to collect the cargo. I proudly told him that the entire load would fit comfortably in the back of the ute, and we would collect the lot.

A message came back. "The icepacks weigh 900kg. Are you sure your ute can handle the weight?"

Ooo errr.

I consider myself knowledgeable on many topics. Vehicle weight limits are not among them. I phoned the senior recipe tester.

The senior's phone trilled loudly. On the kitchen bench. Next to the kettle, where it was still plugged in charging. The senior was across town at work.

After some soul searching, I did manage to contact the senior and discuss weight limits. He was fairly clear in his reply. "You can carry that weight in the back. If you don't mind doing a wheelie all the way home."

Ooo err again. I phoned Luke to suggest that perhaps I could take half of the load. No problem.

The senior recipe tester had taken the ute to the kitchen that morning, which is where we usually need it to be parked. The junior and I drove the car to the kitchen to collect the ute to collect the icepacks. It was when we arrived at the side of the ute that I realised, contrary to what Luke had suggested, we did have a problem.

The senior, while leaving his phone at home, had taken the ute keys to work with him. The junior may have given me a withering look. I phoned Tim, who delivers your dinners to you.

Tim had a key to the ute, and most fortunately was not very far away. We drove to meet Tim and procure a key. We drove back to the kitchen.

The ute is not well designed to carry the most junior of recipe testers - it only has a front seat. The particular junior I had with me, required a car seat. We removed the car seat from the car and commenced putting it into the ute. In order to anchor the car seat the front seat has to be bent forward. I pulled the lever, which violently flung the seat forward, pinning an overenthusiastic junior under the dashboard. He may have given me another withering look.

We look forward to delivering your dinners. They'll be cold when they get to you.