"A propos of almost nothing, when we moved into Lancaster, in February 1981, 

into a house that according to its owner suffered from "progressive electrical failure", 

we took bids from various large-ish electrical companies (it was a large-ish house),

and by some distance the lowest bid was the Northwest Electricity Board (or some

 similar name, Norweb I think). The actual bidder was an electrical engineer who had

 grown up on the street, and when I asked how they had come in so low he told me 

it was partly sentimental, but mainly that it would be a perfect house for the Board 

to examine its trainee electricians on.     Would I agree?     Mais oui.   So we turned 

Castramont into a technical college for the few weeks (three, think) it took to move 

an 1895 wiring "system" (fuses all over the house, etc.,) to something like 20th-century

 standards.

The young men (they were indeed all male, as I recall) and their supervisors arrived 

on time every day.    

They made sure we had power in the kitchen at least for some time every day. 

And hot water, too.    They would map out a wiring project (by circuit, I suppose, but

 to some extent also by room). They would do the project in a specified time and 

then it would be examined by one of the masters.   The 'prentice boys wore blue

llibrary coats (I would all them) to distinguish them from the masters.     Where their

 new wiring was exposed (almost entirely in the cellar, on the huge beams that held

 the house up) it was perfect.   Parallel lines that I am sure would have extended in 

parallel to infinity.    And by god the master ran a millimeter gauge along the wires 

to verify that, too.

At the end we got a long bill of particulars which included, among other things, the

 total length of insulated wire that had gone into the project, which as I recall was 

almost two kilometers, as well as how many junction boxes, wall sockets, etc.,.    

And I think the exact time and labour each circuit had taken.    .

Something in my antediluvian brain would call that "efficiency".    But no doubt it was 

state socialism, instead.   Cheers, Bob"

I replied that those apprentices are today's electricians. Where do we get the next 

tranche from?

My postman knocked on the door yesterday as I was in the middle of a cut on one

 of my crankshafts. I opened the door and asked him to wait a mo while I finished

 the cut and he remarked that it reminded him of his college days when he did 

engineering and machining. He asked what I was doing so I showed him my engines

 etc and he was knocked out. He told me that he was struggling to wean his lad 

away from Playstation on to fishing and outdoor activities and mentioned that the

 lad was addicted to programmes like Fred Dibnah's on TV. I gave him the website 

address for Shed Culture and he said he'd see if he could get the lad to look through

 it. Who knows, it might trigger off something in the lad. If so I'll be pleased.

 That's why I do the Shed bit and up to date at least two fans have been nudged into

 getting out into their Sheds. We shall see....