Down memory lane with a pair of drumsticks

I picked up the drum kit for Eben this morning, from a music shop in Rotherham.  This is  one of the few surviving places of its kind in our area. it's in an old chapel on the edge of Rotherham, down an obscure side street. In the dark interior, stuffed to the eaves with drums of all kinds, I found two really lovely, helpful men.  Music shop chaps: the kind who love music, and love to chat about it.
They had the kit ready in two huge, heavy cardboard boxes but quickly  offered to unpack all the drum shells and fit the drum heads.  And to recycle all the packaging for me. This made everything easier. 
When I got home I was tired; the after-effects of the shingles I had a while ago are still making themselves felt, often in moments of intense fatigue. An impromptu nap helped though, and later I got to grips with assembling the kit. This took me right back to the time when I played the drums, in my 40s... always just for fun, and never particularly well. But I did have some good times in local music workshops and ad hoc bands.  All that came to an end when working life became all-consuming for some years.
Anyway, since those days I had completely forgotten some of the details about setting up drum kits, something I could have done blindfold once. Fortunately YouTube came to my rescue. Richard is still away in N Ireland, till tomorrow night; so given an empty house,  there then followed a very therapeutic drumming session :-)
Is this kit really for Eben, I hear you ask? Yes it is... I'm happy to dabble, and to remind myself of some basics so that I can help him out, when he wants help or encouragement. But it's his kit, and once we reach a point where the aggro between him and Luca calms down, it'll be shifting to their house.  Watch this space...