Moving Onwards …

After getting fed up of seeing my dismembered xbox cluttering the place, After getting fed up of the stares and comments from the females in the house as they saw a “mess” yet I saw “an ongoing project”, I re-hunted around the net for the image I needed. Inserting the mod-chip requires a single solder (I have discovered I can work around the chip solders) and the location of a single, very small point on the PCB. I have that point – the D0 point. (The image with the detail is here – it’s a large file) and so tomorrow after the gym I shall plunder the local hardware shop for the wires.

The hardware shop – it’s in the next village – is as organised as my sock drawer (which is a lie, I don’t have a sock drawer. I have a sock box. I could have a sock drawer if I wanted but not having to open a drawer saves effort !) Anyway, to the husband and wife team who run it, they can place any item to within an inch. Me and you ? Not a chance, no way. But it isn’t a mess, it isn’t an annoying place to be, it’s a fascinating discovery each time I go in. He doesn’t cater for the latest, the shiniest, the cheapest. He caters for what his customers want, even if that means he has a box of obscure clips which he will never completely sell but they are there just in case you might one day need them. And you don’t have to buy more than you want if it’s screws / bolts / nails / nuts you need – you just get what you want and no more. This alone is wonderful not for the money saving aspect because it’s pennies, but because when you run out of something what you do have is zillions of “almost but not quite” and what you do not want to do is add to the clutter.
(We lived next to a guy who had THE most perfect garage. All the tools carefully arranged on the walls, all of them shone, the floor was so clean you could have eaten off it … very strange).
So, tomorrow I shall wander in, turn right to face the desk, ask for this funky wire I need and be both amazed yet reassured that the shop owner will have no problems finding that particular needle in his disheveled haystack. Maybe the stares will stop then …

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