New Year-Same Old Me

I didn't bother doing much reflection on the year past and the year to come last week but we were with M's sister and partner over New Year and he asked the question - What do you want to do more of and what do you want to do less of this coming year. The obvious answer aside, work less, earn more, I discovered I don't actually know. I don't appear to have any goals. Not ones I've set myself. It may be because basically I'm too tired to think much beyond the next five minutes. But I always used to have a one year, five year and ten year plan. Maybe as you get older, and as I hurtle in towards 60, the plan is just to keep breathing. I don't know.

I want to go to France again on holiday this year. I want to live in France at some point in the future. I'd like to think I won't have to work for evermore until I drop. But these seem more like hopes than plans.

There is one thing I need to do and must apply myself to and that is losing weight again. I had lost about 24 pounds from my heaviest but I seem to have regained 14 of them, two in the last week. So I need to lose 15lb to get back into gear and feel a bit healthier. I'm glad I kept the weight loss widget in the side bar. I feel better knowing I am 10lbs lighter than this time last year rather than thinking I am 14lb heavier than I was at my recent lightest. I just feel I need to get back on track rather than see it as some sort of failure. Although I am not sure the five boxes of chocolates sat on the sitting room table are going to help in the endeavour.

I am reminded of one of my ex managers who often quoted the maxim - If you fail to plan, you plan to fail. Then again, a lot of what he said was bollocks so I'm not sure it is right. I think it's more about if you don't have a map of where you are going you are likely to end up somewhere else. Maybe I have lost the art of map reading and started to rely too heavily on a life sat nav which just leads me somewhere using other people's voices.

They Think It's All Over...

So, that's another Christmas Day over. Off to brothers tomorrow and then away for the New Year. The rest from work has been nice. One of the reasons for so little posting, i.e. none, is that I am doing two jobs. It's been a bit manic but not as bad as January will be when the Everest Sale starts.

Don't expect much news!

Seven Year Itch

They always say that your life runs in seven year cycles. My present one runs out in just under a month.

This last seven years could be categorised as "upheaval". At the beginning I was still living at the flat I had moved into when I was a teenager, with Linda, knew M socially and had my own business. By the end I have lost the flat, lost the business, split from Linda, live with M and I'm back with Everest. During the interim I hate to think how many anti-depressants I have taken, although not more than the prescribed dose and actually somewhat less. Much of the problems have been caused really via Linda who has had all the problems with being classed as homeless and then having to fight the Council and I feel duty bound to give her my support as without me she has no-one although it's a situation that cannot go on for ever.

I'm hoping for a more settled next section. And in the last 48 hours various pointers have popped up to show the way. Not the move to France which I think in all reality will happen in the section after this. Firstly, on Friday, there were the first indications that Linda will have a permanent home offer this week. She'll no doubt find every excuse not to want it but in the end she might not have a choice. And then last night I was offered some part time work for three days a week which would guarantee some income whilst still allow me to carry on working for Everest if I want. It's in the property world which I've fancied a move into and I'm quite excited by the thought. If Linda is settled in a place it makes it a lot easier. M will also be pleased knowing there is a set income about and if that takes pressure off of her it's worth it as she deserves something in return for having me in her life and the stress I've undoubtedly brought her.

It doesn't feel quite like there is a door to walk through as things will happen outside my control but hopefully it will be less like a runaway train than normal.

I'm hoping this next seven years is "progress".

Pluses and Minuses

I've been meaning to post about the teachers strike for a bit as, and this will come as no surprise, the Government are being disingenuous about the way teachers are "fighting against performance related pay".

Most teachers would be quite happy to have performance related pay. If for no other reason than it would show how the standard of teacher training has dropped in the Governments rush to get more teachers and also to be fair the general standard of education of people in their 20s and early 30s, who were "experimented" on with the idea that grammar wasn't important and now, as they qualify as teachers don't know the grammar they have to teach. Anyway, I'm already digressing.

The way the Government think related pay should work is that a teacher should get 93% of their pupils to a certain standard by a certain age or they can be deemed to be "failing". Whilst an admirable ideal, and probably very relevant in the Shires, for many class teachers this will prove impossible, and not because they are poor teachers. It has been policy for some time that children with learning difficulties should be kept in mainstream education. This is a good idea and helps a child develop to their full potential when they are borderline. M's school for instance has a number of children with learning difficulties and also a couple of children with Downs Syndrome. With the extra 1 on 1 tuition and support they receive they are coming along very well and will probably reach their full potential, which is surely a success. Except for performance related pay. A Downs Syndrome child will never hit the levels required by the relevant age. It's not possible. Not for the child, it's parents or the teacher. Allowing for a class of 30 children, you only need three children who have special needs and, no matter how well a teacher does at bringing them forward, and in getting the rest of the class to the right level, they can only hit 90% success. And the Government will not accept that a class with special needs children in it is an exception.

So what do we do?

Do we go back to a time when special needs children all have to go to special schools and be marginalised or do we do what the teachers want which is to rate teachers performance on how much improvement a child makes from their base start line to assessment time.

It's just lucky for politicians they don't have performance related pay but instead have an independent body that always manages to work out how MP's are a special case that should receive higher than average pay rises. Every year.

Planning the Future

Last Sunday we went to the French Property Exhibition. It did nothing to make us think we were on the wrong track. We had a chat with some estate agents, solicitors and mortgage companies. It was a good start to finding out a little about the logistics of moving and getting set up.

We are considering a number of choices;

Buy a holiday home which we can use and rent out when we aren't.
Buy somewhere to live and move out lock, stock and barrel, possibly renting out a couple of rooms on a B&B basis.
Buy somewhere to live and move out lock, stock and barrel with attached gite(s) to provide rental income
Buy an up and running business and start a new life.

The first three have been on the cards for a time but the latter has popped up because the place we stay at in Thezan Les Bezier is likely to be up for sale next year. It's tempting. Very tempting. We don't know yet what they will be looking for and it might just be outside what we can manage but we'll see.

One other thing that the exhibition threw up was that we are now also considering a different area of France if we go with the first three options. Languedoc Roussilon has been our first choice because we know it pretty well and like it there, but as we have been looking at French property prices, there are some excellent bargains in the Charente Maritime area, that's towards La Rochelle, Poitiers, Sevres. We weren't really interested in the area as it is the Atlantic Coast by the Bay of Biscay so thought the weather wouldn't be anything special. It is. Exactly the same temperatures as the South. To give you an idea what we are talking about in terms of value....

This costs about the same as our two bedroom flat in Isleworth. (This is a different Department but is comparable)

For those who fancy a slightly grander property, for the equivalent of a three bedroom flat in Richmond, or three bedroom house by us, you might fancy this.

If you are on a budget and want to do a bit of sprucing up this might appeal.

None of these are particularly atypical, each day brings 30 or 40 similar properties across France, these are just some of the properties that went online yesterday.

But which way to go? I think another holiday soon might help clarify things. Or maybe two or three. But whichever option we go with I think that's the way things are heading sooner or later, the timing's partly up to the the Gods of Chance and Camelot.

Faster than the speed of light..

Well, faster than in yesteryear anyway....

Whilst we sat on a beach in Sete, South France, M received a text from her daughter who was on a beach in Barbados. This text was to tell her that the school M teaches in was presently on fire. M was able to inform some of the people in Brentford, less than half a mile from the fire, what was going on.

That in a nutshell is the power of modern communication.


As a footnote, the school is pretty much burnt out but, despite her request to remain in the S of F, she is back in next Monday for start of term. The kids won't go back till the 16th. We went and had a look today and the place was crawling with contractors trying to get it ready. Not bad for a Bank Holiday weekend.

Back on the Treadmill

I have returned. Relaxed, although I don't expect that to last long, and tanned. Expect updates soon. Ish.

Je suis en vacances maintenant!

Some of you may see this this evening. Some before 6am tomorrow morning. Some will see it post 6am tomorrow. If you fall into that last lot, by the time you read this, I will be heading south down various autoroutes, the A1, 10, 26, and 75 amongst them I think. Then a week on Friday we will retrace our steps. And then if you are lucky you will get a report on this years holiday, or maybe not.

Au revoir mes amis!

It Lives, Igor!

Hello. I'm still here. Not that you'd know it. 6+ weeks without a post. Must try harder as every teacher at school used to write on my reports. Except those with something worse to say.

Anyhow, the play went. I wasn't the best and at times I wasn't the worst. I have a dvd of it but I haven't watched it yet, something about not wanting to return to the scene of the crime. The playwright came and saw it and said nice things and didn't kill anyone so I'm taking that as a positive.

Holiday booked and car is having it's MOT and service as we speak. Expected it to be about £750 to get it through but it will be less than £500. Result! Millau Viaduct here we come, on way to Beziers and the south of France.

Not having kids the Royal birth made me feel something that I haven't experienced before. A sense of the future. I have seen the future King yet I will never see him ascend the throne, (except for a disaster), a sense that things will carry on after I have gone. Strange. In reality I may not even see William become King but when he was born I was pretty certain I would.

Just made a very big sale. That's why we are off on holiday and I can afford to throw money at the car. Lots of other things to buy so off to the shops now. Hurrah for money!

I'm a Thespian, Get Me Out of Here

So, the play has come around. Dress rehearsal tomorrow followed by four performances in three days.

To say it is disorganised would be an understatement. If I went into everything here that hasn't been right I would miss the performances. I know my lines when reciting them but whether they will come out when on stage is another matter and when other people are there to throw me off.

Normally I would go into a performing week rested but I'm not, which is worrying. Despite stereotypes, performing does take it out of you. I think it's the adrenaline kicking in and out.

Anyway. it's unlikely I'll post again before next week. Not that I probably would have anyway.

Voice Recognition or Hoist Reconditioned

If you ever watch the BBC News on News 24 and you need cheering up, and for all I know it is the same on the main BBC channels, then just switch on the sub-titles.

Once upon a time there would have been a stenographer typing away I guess and accuracy would have been paramount. Now, with the move to BBC Outer Space in Salford they appear to be using a voice recognition programme and apparently it's not a very good one. Within a few minutes watching over a few days it managed to "hear" the following.

house rye scone (Should have been horizon)
the prison tays (The Brontes)
James Die Son (James Dyson - sort of understandable but even so...)
anyone they maisie (anyone they may see)
every baton (every battle)
drama Rigby (Drummer Rigby)
violent kanebo(violent tornado)

Once they realise there is a mistake either they reset it, or do something, because then it re-corrects the line. Unless it gets it wrong again. The record for the number of attempts to get one word right is 4 that I've seen. Occasionally they just seem to give up and hope no-one noticed.

It's probably all come about with the need to get news on to air as fast as possible. Images and stories beamed in and straight on to screen do not allow for someone to sit there manually typing, so accuracy gives way to speed. Luckily, with being able to hear, they are nothing but an amusing aberration, but if you rely on that written word to describe what you are seeing, it might not be quite so funny. And what if you know someone who was in that tornado, or a distant relative of Drummer Rigby, you might actually prefer if they got things right and showed some consideration.

In the end, do we actually need to have the news so fresh that an extra 10 seconds of delay would make a huge difference?

AbandonShip

I'm going to have to put Haiku month on hold. The changes at work are having a massive impact on available time. It's almost like I have a proper job! But without the income. And the next 4 days are going to be even worse as what is normally going to be a team of nine becomes a team of four.

We are probably the smallest team in the country with one of the biggest targets. The number of appointments coming through is larger than expected, or at least, with the new even distribution, the number I am getting has increased.

Anyway, I'm off to work now. Should be back by 10.00 this evening. Carry on.

Haiku Month - Day 13

Culpablility?
Irresponsibility.
Laid at your doorstep.

So we have another twist in the Tia Sharp murder trial with the accused pleading guilty. It is a dreadful case as all these types of murder are but you have to wonder what on earth was going on in the family.

As I remember from when the story originally broke, Stuart Hazell had been the lover of Tia's mother before going on to live with the Grandmother. I might be confusing this case with another but I don't think so. Then, we have a list of his previous convictions today and apparently they weren't any secret. People on the estate were afraid of him and knew of him. It's not like he'd done something 40 years earlier in another part of the country.

Now, I am as appalled at the murder as the next person, but when you have the mother saying how "she gave him the ultimate trust" of looking after her daughter and now look what he did, you have to question the decision making of the mother? She isn't responsible for the death but really, you trust your daughter to the care of this man whom you know about, and then when he does something like this, however extreme it might be in comparison to his other violent crimes, you lament at how he has taken something from you? How can a parent really be so naive as to think 1)he was a safe choice to leave your daughter with, and 2) the lifestyle choices of the adults in the family were a template for good parenting. I know little about Tia's father,he could be as bad as the rest of them but I do have sympathy for him as he doesn't seem to be part of this sorry mess.

The person however that I have most sympathy for is Tia,who was subjected to a life within that family. What is worrying though is that she isn't a one off when it comes to being a child in such a dysfunctional family. There are children at M's school who could end up with the same result. Some of the stuff the teachers hear about their lives is awful. And it's not just the breakdown of the initial parents relationships. Some of the children discuss their "parents" with identifying numbers. One child was telling M that he has a new sister because his second mum is with his third dad and that dad's daughter is now his sister. (His second mum is his dads next wife after his parents split up, and she has now moved on to someone else who is his third dad as his mum has also got a new partner who became his second dad). I've said before how neglected some of the children are. I know there are those politically who will claim people just have kids to claim benefits and jump the housing queues, and whether it's right or not, it's difficult to see what other reason some of these parents ever had for having children.

Do some parents not understand, when you have a child you are responsible for it's safety , well-being, behaviour, socialisation, etc. It isn't a job you can do for a few years and then give up, nor just do it for office hours. And is spreads across all social groups so it isn't just the unemployed or "benefit scroungers". If I was run over by a bus, even at the age of 56, my mums first thoughts virtually would be to wonder if she had spent enough time teaching me to cross the road safely! Is it, as some would say, a problem of poor parenting leading to their kids having even less idea of parenting? Is it the idea that parents have to think of themselves too and should have "me" time?

Tia Sharp won't be the last child to be killed through dysfunctional family life, and to be honest I don't know what we can do about it, but we surely can't go on as is.

Haiku - Day 12

Knowledge is not just
what you know, but rather if
you can recall it.

I am addicted to SongPop on Facebook. There's nothing I like more than a quiz and particularly a music one. I'm involved in 20 concurrent head to head matches and am up in 19. I have 110 minutes to get ahead of that person for a clean sweep. I'm not going to bed until I manage it!

Haiku Month - Day 11

Reliving one's past
Can remind you why you are
who you are today



One of my favourite radio programmes is on Radio 2. Desmond Carrington's Sound of the 60s.

I actually don't remember many of the songs from the first half of the 60s, even I'm too young, but the latter half started to impinge on my young musical mind, and of course records get played for a number of years after they are released.

In the 60s my main radio listening would have been Junior Choice on a Saturday morning and then Sunday late morning as Mum made Sunday lunch and me and my brother played games with my Dad. And Sunday radio meant 2 Way Family Favourites, Round The Horne and The Clitheroe Kid. A few years later they were followed by Alan "Fluff" Freeman finishing the afternoon off with The Top 40!

Today on Desmonds show he played three tracks back to back which whilst released in the 60s impacted my life more in the early 70s at our youth club. The three were;

Guns of Navarone - The Skatalites
A Message to You Rudy - Dandy
The Israelites - Desmond Dekker & The Aces. (Or for those remember the old TDK advert, My Ears Are Alight.

Ska and Reggae were our staples at Youth Club along with a reasonable amount of Northern Soul.

Even today I like a bit of Reggae and Ska. It's one of the few bits of my musical past i'm happy to revisit.

Haiku Month - Day 9 & 10

As the mighty wind
moves silently round the world
so must we sometimes.

So yesterday, with all this new work stuff, I was silent too, which is why yesterday's Haiku is today!

Haiku Month = Day 8

As sultry summer
turns to mellow autumn time
so we too progress.

Although I spent a few years away from Everest, I was still pretty much involved with people who were still there and feel I've been there for the past 21 years. There have been changes over the years, some minor and others slightly more disruptive. Last year, however, we were bought out by a team of venture capitalists. Not the normal sort who come in, strip out the assets, then sell it on, but a group of guys who made their millions by turning companies round by re-organising them and then selling them after three years.

We are 9 months in and they have concluded all their investigations and tomorrow sees the launch of the new look company. To the public there probably won't be any discernible difference at first but for us, at the sharp end of the company we have been told that there are going to be massive shifts, both in work processes and in attitudes, both towards ourselves by Head Office and towards our customers.

Like all these things, the proof will be in the pudding, and it's not like we haven't heard it all before, but this time we are being run by people who make these things happen, not just hope they might.

Tomorrow I have what will hopefully be an interesting and enlightening meeting to find out all about what is happening in detail.

There has been one phrase that has been bandied about since the first inklings of what is about to happen. R.E.M., the popular American beat combo, have a song of the same title. I link to it here for your listening pleasure.

Haiku Month - Day 7

On the river runs,
from source to sea in purpose,
heading for freedom.



Went out to Old Windsor today. The Thames looked suitably gorgeous. I think the Thames is my favourite river. Can you have a favourite river? Is there something wrong in ranking rivers? The Thames is my No 1 anyway. Out of interest The River Aire has my second vote.

I would say from the East End of London back up to it's source in Oxfordshire/Gloucestershire? it's difficult to find a bad view. Maybe being so familiar with it colours my perception.

Down at Ham House on Monday we were on a different stretch, a famous stretch, but viewing it from a different angle.

A View of The Thames at Richmond

This is the view, looking down from Richmond Hill as The Thames bends round from Richmond on towards Teddington and Kingston. Ham House is on the left bank, roughly where the tree line suddenly drops a level.
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Because of where I live there is hardly a day when I don't see it in one location or another. If I go East I will see it at Richmond, West and it will be Staines, Runnymede, Windsor and beyond, if I venture further. The North means Brentford where Caesar first crossed the Thames as he conquered Britain and on to Kew, Chiswick, Barnes and Central London, whilst to the South, Twickenham, Teddington and Kingston. It helps that there is a large looping bend around here.

For all that, it's not that I ever spend time on it. The occasional boat trip but rarely, I've never swum in it, it's not really that sort of river. In fact I have rarely even touched the water. It's just not something I've done yet get me anywhere near the sea and I'm in it as soon as I can. So it's a strange relationship I have with it. I love being in the water but somehow the Thames is above that, not somewhere where I should be inhabiting, maybe because I inwardly feel like it is The Queen's river or too majestic in it's own right.

So I shall carry on admiring it nearly every day, acknowledging it as an old friend yet one which must be kept a little apart, a little aloof.

Haiku Month- Day 6

Practice makes perfect,
although basic competence
would be a good start.

Although I quite like performing Gilbert & Sullivan, musicals are more fun. The songs tend to be more fun to sing and more the music I like. There is a downside though. There is normally more dancing. Which is worse when you have a principle role. Because you normally have your own dance. And I have. Potentially 2 solo dances and a duet dance. Tonight we have started setting the duet dance. Forget the actual steps, I am trying to master the terminology of them. Drag steps, wing turns, step ball changes, to name but 3. And naming but three is all about I can manage.

Luckily it is a "soft shoe shuffle" so isn't too energetic, but being one of just two people does leave you rather exposed. Hopefully, with five months to go I will master it at least well enough to stay on my feet durting the entire length. That in my book would be a major success!

I have decided that in future, with reference to my post of a couple of days back, if they decide to complain about my lack of terpsichorean skills I shall say that might well be true but it's bloody impressive for a performing potato!!

Haiku Month - Day 5

History teaches
things that are helpful today,
but we have to look.

Not that we've made great use of our National Trust Membership but we thought for a short trip out we would go to Ham House. There's plenty online if you want to read about it so I'll just post a few images.

It's well worth a visit as there are a lot of rooms open to the public and they also have demonstrations so today I got to try some Ale made with the hop variety grown there, although they don't brew on the premises, and also some biscuits cooked in the ovens which are still working. An added bonus.



A Large Stone Figure Reclining Outside The Main Entrance. (I suspect it has a more detailed name than that).



17th Century Nuclear Warheads - Or possibly some fir topiary.



The Main Entrance Hall from the Galleried Landing.



More topiary in the Formal Garden.



Inlaid Marquetry to a cabinet made by slicing through a tree. Highly unusual.



The full cabinet. Something rather aiamalistic about the way the decoration works.



Leather fire buckets hanging up in the servants passageway. They were kept full of sand in case fire broke out, and once the sand was used they would be filled with water.



Some Flowers. They looked a bit like a variety of tulip but I suspect they aren't. No doubt someone will know.

Haiku Month - Day 4

Progress is good, but if
you don't know where you came from
how can can you go back.

In a major push to modernise the school, not for any practical reason but so she can boast about having a modern school, Marj's headmistress bought £30,000.00 of ipads for the kids and staff. This decision would have been more palatable if the Head knew anything about computers, she actually needs someone else to turn hers on, literally, but another school has them and there was no way she wasn't keeping up with the Jones'.

Now, there are some things the ipad can do that the netbooks, that the kids already had, can't. But there are even more that ipads can't manage. You can't teach kids keyboard skills in the same way. You can't touch type in effect, but then you can't swype either, so input is slow.

We have a friend at opera who is so proud because his two year old granddaughter has her own ipad. Why? Not a junior version but the full scale adult version. Surely there are better ways of aiding manual dexterity than pointing on a screen, like proper drawing with a pencil.

The ipads, to most of the staff's minds, are a waste of money and think the kids would be better off sticking with Windows based computers, with proper keyboards, and retaining the skills they have already learnt. But the most telling thing is that most of the staff think their time would be better spent learning to write correctly, neatly, and grammatically. They shouldn't be devoid of computer time, but they need some real basic skills that can serve them throughout their lives no matter what happens with technology. Not in the way Michael Gove thinks should happen, he knows nothing. But that's another post, another time.

Haiku Month - Day 3

The smallest beaver
can fell the mightiest tree,
size does not mean strength.

Two years ago next week, Linda( my-ex) was in Lakeside Mental Health Unit where I was visiting her. I took a call which turned out to be from her ex landlords agents saying they had just had a council representative in claiming back nigh on 8 grand of rent that the Council had paid in Housing Benefit on her behalf, for which they now didn't think she was entitled.

From that day until today, we have been fighting them explaining with each new figure that they come up with, that they are wrong. The amounts have changed, the reasons the monies are due have changed, their view that Linda was in the wrong has never changed. I'm sure I blogged about this not long ago but in January we went to Court as the Council started the process to evict her, which for someone in temporary accommodation, means being sent to live on the streets. Yes, literally. Luckily in January we had a judge who didn't think it was right to throw someone out who appeared to have a genuine reason why they weren't due to pay the money, and a new date was set for next Friday.

Even though we had instructed solicitors they were more geared up to going into court than trying to get to the bottom of things and so not much happened until last week. Out of the blue she received a letter from someone higher up the food chain in the council saying that they had "just discovered" that they had "mistakenly" applied some money to her rent account which they should have recovered from elsewhere and they were reversing the debt.

For the first time in two years the Council weren't chasing for money. There was still a small defecit which was in dispute but was never something we would get hung up about if the court said she had to pay it. Now there was even a letter which, along with the previous adjustments and explanations, proved that everything the Council had done for the last two years was wrong.

Then it went quiet again. Theoretically, even though there was only a small amount of arrears, the shift in balance in front of the court would be that all the money outstanding was down to Linda not paying something. They would look as though they were the wronged party.

We stuck tight in the belief that we could still make a good fist of it in the court and that if push came to shove we could pay the money there and then and the judge would stop the eviction. A risky tactic but one we were willing to take.

And then yesterday we rang her solicitors to book the pre-court meeting so we could discuss tactics when her solicitor said the Council had just rung her, leaving a message to ring them back. She did. And after two years, on the promise that Linda pays across that small amount owed, they are asking the Court to suspend the eviction.

"Wait!", I hear you say, "only suspended, not withdrawn?". And on the face of it I would agree, but the Council have backed themselves into a corner. They have the condition that they won't go back to Court as long as Linda doesn't get into arrears. However, the suspension works both ways, as if they come back and screw up her account as well, Linda can call it back into Court. Not only that, but this "settlement" does not preclude her from seeking damaged for the two years of stress, illness, and out of pocket expenses that their mistakes have caused.

In reality, it is not completely over yet, but it has reached a point at which a large line can be drawn in the sand, and as long as the Council manage not to cause another problem, her life can move forward once again as she can now start rebidding for Council Housing which their error had suspended.

When dealing with The Council and this sort of error for someone with less willpower than Linda, it would be easier just to pay them the money. That would have been £8000. How many people have paid, particularly the elderly, who tend to think if the Council/Government/any other official body, say it is due, they must be right?

And so, like a beaver, she has eventually overcome those who were much bigger and mightier than she. They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. She will emerge stronger, but this was very close to going the other way.

Haiku Month - Day 2

You can lead a horse
to water but you cannot
make it drink. No Sir!

The art of selling is basically summed up in that well known saying. You should lead a client to a happy conclusion, as our American cousins describe it, that being the purchase of your products. Of course, much of the double glazing industry is based on bludgeoning a prospective client into submission, an art in which I am sadly lacking.

Tonight I went to see a woman who is confident in her ability to purchase windows. she informed me she had done it before and knew just what she was doing. I knew within 5 minutes that I wouldn't be selling anything there. The clues were.

1) She is getting 10 quotes! - There are very few people who can take in the information given by 10 different companies with 10 differing windows. You probably need to be very knowledgeable about the basic product to even begin to. She wasn't. By the time you have had that many quotes there is only one thing you can remember. The price.

2) She uttered the five words which are the biggest clue that she won't be coming to us. "of course, I want quality". Very few people who buy our windows ever mentions quality in that way. They ask questions which are probing about the construction, engineering, design, et al. When a client starts saying they want quality, the only person they are convincing are themselves. When a person says they want quality, they might as well just hold a piece of paper up saying "I buy on price", because they always do.

3) "I have a budget and I won't go over it". Well, it's to be hoped for her sake that her budget is high enough to get her some half decent windows, but if it does, it will be more by luck than judgement.

4) Now, I am at fault here because I didn't do my job properly, but I didn't tell her one thing about our windows. Nothing. And she didn't ask one thing about them. The only thing she knows about our windows are what they would be costing her. Assuming she does the same, the only thing she will know about the other company's product is the price. The only choice she will then make is based on price. Not quality.

Our windows will normally cost more than others. They should. They are the best windows. Every one will say that, but we can prove it at law. We have to in order to advertise the way we do. Not everyone can afford our windows. That's fine. Don't tell anyone, but there are times when it would be a bad decision for someone to buy our windows. I don't want people to make decisions that are bad for them. But I do believe that people should, and most sensible people want, to buy the best windows they can afford. My job is to show them, that if they can afford us, they will be getting a better product than they can get from other companies.

And no one is happier than me when I've led them there are they start drinking.

Haiku Month - Day 1

Humans are complex,
potatoes less so, yet they
have more chromosones.


Each day I will post a self-penned haiku, (and no, they won't all strictly follow the rules of including a reference to nature etc, so you needn't point it out), and then, having posted it, I'll explain it's relevance.

Over the years I have mentioned some of the operations and illnesses I have been through during my life, some more major than others, and I'm not unhappy with my lot. As the ongoing post-operative care following my cancer, my GP decided I should see an endocrinologist has my hormone levels are relatively low, although to be fair they always have been and I've not had that many problems because of it. So off I went to West Mid Hospital the other day to meet her.

She was running about half an hour late, yet it was only a 9.30 appointment which is pushing it even for a hospital. So come 10am in I get called. The reason she has run late is she has been ploughing through my medical records. In detail. Being fascinated. And drawing conclusions.

After initially apologising for being late she then apologises for me having had to have so many illnesses and operations during my life but she finds me "fascinating". (And what woman wouldn't! "Cough"). And then she tells me she has a hypothesis. She thinks there is a link between things throughout my life. Subject to confirmation by genetic testing, I have Klinefelter Syndrome.

The main point of interest is, unlike most "normal" human beings, I have 47 chromosones, not 46. Marj says she has had no doubt for years that I am not a normal human being! Potatoes normally have 48 chromosones but some varieties only have 47. Back in the days of my Kennamatic blog I used the tag line "One chromosone more and I'd be a potato"!.

Little did I know then that I already was!

Up & Away

Our first stop on our day out in London was The London Eye.



This is the 5th time I've taken a flight. I still tend to think of it in those terms since it was originally sponsored by British Airways. Ieuan had been looking forward to this but decided once we were about 25% round that maybe heights weren't his thing. This from a boy who until recently lived on a mountain. He did however manage to get a grip once it had gone over the top and then quite enjoyed it and managed to look rather cheerful when the official photo was taken.

The interest for me this time wasn't looking at the various tourist attractions but this is the first visit since the Shard was complete so it was good to look at it from a decent height.

Before we went on the eye we availed ourselves of their 4D Experience. I'm not entirely sure what the 4th dimension was as it is just 3d, but as you also get sprinkled with water occasionally depending on the scene you are looking at, I'm assuming it is that. Worth going in if you are there though.

For those who know their London geography there is a bit of a weird experience. One always expect the Thames to have a north and south bank, particularly as you are on "The Southbank", but in fact you are actually on a 90 degree bend and thus "north" is actually west and it takes some time to find distant locations as nothing seems to be in the right direction.

As one would expect there is a gift shop attached when you get off and it is there you can pick up your "official souvenir photograph". Unusually for London, the prices seem to be quite reasonable, and it is worth picking up souvenirs here if you have gifts to take home to family.

RATINGS

For Me - 7/10
For Ieuan - 8/10

Home Sweet Home

Visitors have been and gone and our visit to see my step sister is over. Now life can get back to normal. During Ieuan's visit to the big city we did some touristy things which I shall blog about over the next few days, although that might spread to weeks with my present blogging form, some of which are famous and you have no doubt done them too whereas others have probably passed you by or not even registered their existence.

The best bit for me in many ways was seeing my mum on Sunday looking so well. She looked like her old self after two years of being ill. Maybe she is going to see her baby reach his 60th birthday in three and a half years time and if she can manage that then it's only the same again until her 90th.

Miscellany

Well, I'm still busy, but I'm not sure I can't rule out a lack of enthusiasm for the reason for not posting for ages. I'm in one of my "tired" periods where enthusiasm is a rare commodity.

Anyway, one of my acting commitments is now over. Admittedly the smallest one but it's still nice to get it out of the way.

Work is quite busy but not producing much in the way of income.

This week however is the week of visitors. M's sister and youngest grandchild visit us from North Wales from tomorrow until Saturday so there will be much sightseeing and visiting going on. Then on Sunday I meet up with my stepsister, her wife, and their son, who are over from San Francisco. It's about 4 years since they were here last so should be fun.

Not a lot of exciting news there but I thought I better let you know I'm still breathing.

Children of the Revolution.

Just to let you know, I'm busy.

Busy, busy, busy!

Mainly with play rehearsals. 10 in the next 14 in fact. Excellent. Then it will only be three a week after that. Maybe I will fit some work in so I can earn some money soon.

Anyway, that wasn't what I was going to post about. I just thought I'd mention it. So there.

Earlier today I had the misfortune to be in Morrisons. I was attempting to use the self-checkouts as is my wont and as normal one of them didn't work. That left three. One was inhabited by someone with the hand/eye co-ordination of a retarded wombat combined with the speed of a three toed sloth on valium. The second was being assaulted by a mother and small child who were counting it as some sort of mother/chi;d bonding exercise despite the queue, no doubt so once they got home she could ignore it with a clear conscience. This left the third and final one. The one I thought would be a swift and superbly executed bit of comestible purchasing prowess. It was a young man of middle teen years. No doubt up to his acne covered neck in Information Technology and all that entails both at school and at home. And he only had two items.

Note to said young man: When you have scanned your packet of custard creams and the disembodied voice is screaming at you to "place the item in the bag" it means "place the item in the bag". The clue is in the words, "place the item in the bag"! It doesn't mean continue to hold the custard creams. It doesn't mean try scanning the custard creams again. It doesn't mean keep hold of them whilst then trying to scan the packet of crisps. And apart from which, what sort of a tea is custard creams and crisps.

So there we are, the computer generation, experts in all things technical. Still, never mind, he'll probably have other people to actually use any real technology when he is Prime Minister.

The Traveller Returns

I have returned from my brief sojurn to North Wales. It didn't rain! Not once! Not even a little bit! There were a couple of snow flurries but no rain. There was even a couple of brief spells of sunshine! I think that's the first time ever.

One of the good things about going up there is we get to go past Snugburys. And for once we went past it on the way up and on the way back. This place is ice cream heaven. On the way up I had the Banana Caramel and Apple Pie, on the way back Tropical Coconut, and Turkish Delight. Excellent! M had Death by Chocolate and Sloe Gin and Damson, followed by Amaretto and Sloe Gin and Damson. If ever you are passing, call in. In fact if you are anywhere remotely near the place, call in!

Just round the corner from there, literally, is a house that M loves. Henhull Bridge Farm House. Everytime we go past she states her intention of buying it if we win the lottery. This time it was actually up for sale. Despite buying a lottery ticket we failed to make her dream come true, however, we were at least abe to check it out online. How disappointing. We don't like the inside at all, so as well as the capital purchase it would need a complete refit. It better be a big win on the lottery then - house, refit and daily visits to Snugburys!

Canadian Songsters Germ Warfare Revenge

So far, this weekend has been taken up with the concert I mentioned the other day in which I sang "Orange Coloured Sky". As part of my intro I mentioned how I was more talented and better looking than Michael Buble who did a recent cover. He has wreaked his revenge by bombarding me overnight with a man flu germ and I lie prostrate upon the couch listening to M snoring away totally unconcerned by my physical malcondition. If it wasn't him it was an allergic reaction to singing the bloody awful "HI Ho Silver Lining" three times in 24 hours!

Today is a day off, except the morrow sees the conclusion of my first year as Chairman of Hounslow Light Opera. Perhaps I have the more dangerous Chairman Flu, that's bound to be worse than just man flu. So today I must finish writing my chairmans report. By finishing it I mean start it. And also continue to build/modify/add/subtract/tweak/hit with a hammer, various pages of that there linked HLO website what I have built. Or at least what I have filled in, thanks to some other persons coding skills.

As soon as the AGM finishes we immediately start on this year's main show, The Pajama Game. And I mean literally, as the meeting will finish about half eight and then our director will start to discuss what will happen this year.

If I get any time between all that, I need to try and do some work and pack for the trip to North Wales.

Alternatively, I may just lie here and suffer silently.

Fell at the 13th

So, you will notice something missing.

If I had pre-done all my postings then there would have been one yesterday.
I could've but I didn't so there isn't.

If only I had spent the spare hour I had in the morning writing something instead of sorting out Valentines Meals.
I could've but I didn't so there isn't.

I was going to check whether there was a way to programme the posting in advance for a specific time and date.
I could've but I didn't so there isn't.

If only I hadn't got in from work yesterday evening and collolapsed into a heap with only enough energy for a few minutes browsing before bed.
I could've but I didn't so there isn't.

Oh well, having done some three months of continual blogging from February last year, life has come to bite me on the bum this year and I have failed at day 13. (Shrinks under the steely gaze of the blogging fraternity whom he has personally affronted). things were about to get harder anyway as we are off to North Wales next Wednesday until Saturday and I have agreed not to take my computer so we get a proper rest and I don't have much of a mobile signal there either for moblogging.

Oh well, there's always Blogathon 2014.

(Crawls back under whatever slimy stone he crawled out from under).

Naive TV

Having mentioned my cultured television veiwing of a Saturday evening the other day it has to be said I don't mind dabbling at the other end of the spectrum.

"Sun Sea and Suspicious Parents" is great. I'm not sure whether we are meant to be railing at the outrageous behaviour of the kids but in general they are no worse than any other teenagers. What is great is the naivety of the parents. Their 18 year old son or daughter is off on a mates holiday and they start expressing their concerns. These usually revolve around the hope that their offspring won't be getting drunk, won't be speaking to the opposite sex, maybe spending the day in the library*.

Can some parents really be so surprised at their kids behaviour? For Lords sake, they are going to such places as Kavos, Magaluf, etc. They all have a bit of a reputation as holiday destinations for the young to get absolutely slaughtered from morning till, well, pretty much the same time next morning.

Often you can see how all the parties involved on a programme are being manipulated as are the viewers, but in fact this programme really does seem to be showing both kids and parents in their true light.

Back in my day we didn't really have "lad's holidays". Going abroad was still a bit of a novelty and relatively expensive. That doesn't mean we didn't get ratted every now and again though. I was probably the least rebellious teenager ever, being very protective of my mum after her split from my dad, but there were certainly evenings when I certainly wouldn't have wanted her to see the state I was in, but then, I have a feeling she knew I wasn't exactly out drinking lemonade. We hate to think what M's girls get up to, or at least what they did get up to when they were younger, indeed M is quite happy not to know but I don't think she's under any illusion that copious amounts of alcohol were taken and I dare say there was the odd boy or two spending the night in very close proximity to them.

In a world where teenagers get a bad press it is the parents who come out worst. The teenagars often have more insight than the parents have, maybe because it is their life or maybe because they are at an age where their world is changing rapidly in all areas.

I am however hoping they never start a series watching 50 years olds on the rampage in Blackpool. Or, if they do. for God's sake keep my mother away from the television!



* One of the lads we were following one week actually told his mum on the phone that this was what he was doing. He failed to mention he was actually just going in to a strip club.

Modern Life and The Remedy

There are a couple of news stories today which, during discussions afterwards, shows how things have moved on over the years.

The first is the interminable horse meat controversy. In a phone-in dominated by people lamenting the various supermarket's poor quality control, someone made the following point. "Of course, it wouldn't be a problem for so many people if they just went to the butcher and bought meat and made the meal themselves". Now, many poeple will say they don't have access to a butcher these days and that the butchers is more expensive than Tesco/Sainsbury/Morrisons etc, however, the supermarkets often have a "butchers" within the store and prices are reasonable. And here's a tip, often the mince on the fresh counter is cheaper than the pre-packed ones on the shelf and a lot nicer looking and "fresher". The same goes for chops and no doubt other cuts as well. Now, I'm not averse to a ready meal, he says, replete on a Chicken and Broccoli Pie courtesy of Messrs Tesco, although part of me wonders if I actually just had Wombat and Bamboo. But amidst all the jokes and everything else it hadn't hit me until I heard that comment that yes, we have become reliant on ready meals. There is an outcry because the people we have abdicated our cooking duties to have screwed up. A bit like blaming teachers and baby sitters because your children don't know how to behave.

The other story is the one about the baby whose hand was bitten off by a fox. I actually don't know where they lived but suspect it is a town. Someone rang up and was saying will people please stop feeding foxes. I heartily agree with that, but it is even more than that. Please stop leaving rubbish out in plastic bags for days on end! It is noticeable where we live that over the last few years things have deteriorated. We have bin houses with two doors. One is a big door which allow the dustmen to bring the bins in and out to their lorry, the second is a smaller door which allows residents to go in to the storage and walk at the side in order to place the bag in an empty bin. It's logical, it's easy, it's a bloody nigthtmare! Some people just open the big door and, if the first bin is empty, put the bag in the bin. If the first bin is full they just leave it on the floor. FFS, it's not difficult to do it properly. And once the first storage hut bins are full there is another bin hut with another four bins in. That never gets used because it is about 10 metrest away. And that isn't an exageration. For one block of flats it is actually only two metres away from their path but they still ignore it and use the one that they walk directly past. Is it a coincidence that the number of flats that are now rented seems to have increased at the same ratio as this problem. It's as if they have no pride in where they live and perhaps these days if you rent you don't have pride. Maybe you don't care because it is not your flat, just where you live. And who cares about the other residents? Why do they matter.

So, as we move forward through the years we are becoming more anti-social and expecting more to be done for us. My mum always talks about when my Grandma was nearing the end of her life, she was saying how pleased, in a way, she wasn't going to see things deteriorate from the standards she had grown up with. My mum, at 83, has started to feel the same. I suspect I will follow in the family tradition in another couple of decades.

Give An Inch, Take A Mile

So just a few days ago I mentioned how I was doing my very first straight play. Luckily it is only a small part because I don't remember lines very well. I think it might be because my head is so full of wonderful other stuff. So what on earth has possessed me to now accept another role in another play. But not just a few lines this time, it's the bloody main male role!

Now, I can just about justify this decision, if I spend a great deal of time learning the lines. There are a lot because I am in every scene but one. So why have I done this when on March 9th I am auditioning for a main part in the musical show in October. I know it's presumptious to think I might have a clash but the inside view is that I will get it.

Does anyone know how to clear a brain so it can be reprogrammed to refill with other stuff? I suspect there will be much lying down in darkened rooms to recover.

Culture

Saturday night is culture night. Admittedly with a crime bent

The Killing,

Borgen,

Wallander,

Inspector Montelbano

and starting again this week, my favourite, Spiral.

Saturday Night is watching foreigh language tv on BBC4.

Et Je l'aime.

Backing The Right Horse

Well, the beef/horse/unicorn* disaster continues apace. Who knows where and with what the next food might be adulterated with. Obviously in Findus's case, not so much adulterated as completely exchanged.

I'm interested as to how the first discovery was made and by whom. None of the retailers were routinely carrying out dna checks for the products so why did someone have a look. Tesco's are now apologising and explaining how they are going to make sure this never happens again by introducing regular dna checks. I suspect there will be all sorts of discoveries coming up as newspapers rush for the next scoop.

Morrisons claim their products are all as advertised but who wants to eat an elephant pastie?






Why are people worried about eating horse. Or is it as David Cameron claimed today that it isn't that they are eating horse but people feel let down under the Sale of Goods Act. No, David, people appear to be worried they.ve eaten a gee gee. I think I've had horse before. Last time we were on holiday in France we bought a pair of excellent steaks at a very good price, they were incredibly tasty, and I can't remember that it ever actually said what animal had supplied the meat at point of death. If indeed it was horse then let's get some over here. Tasty!

I suspect there are quite a lot of people who are offended because they feel they should be. There are certainly others who believe horses are "different" and shouldn't be eaten. No wonder the great unwashed are freaked out by the Tucker Trials on IACGMOOH. If other people eat it then it isn't going to poison you. If you can eat one animal then surely you can eat them all.

And now, I'm going to give you an exclusive. Tesco's have carried out another set of dna tests today and I'm afraid to have to inform you that My Little Pony contains no equine dna whatsoever!!!!!

* one of these might not have been found in burgers or lasagne yet.

Worth His Weight In Gold

I have found a new mechanic! Hurrah!

For too long I have been without a mechanic for the car. This has forced us either to use a Peugeot Main Dealer. Genuine Parts - Genuinely Frightening Prices or a local garage who you can never quite trust.

The latest saga has been the clutch. The local garage fitted one 18 months ago but in all honestly we were never completely satisfied. I didn't like the position of biting point. Indeed, biting point seemed to be about 1 inch further on than the pedal would go to. Anyway, 10 days ago the clutch decided to give up the ghost. And someone recommended their mechanic. It was a way to go. Over in Chessington which is a bit of a trek, in rush hour, with a car with a dodgy clutch. But it made it and I picked it up tonight. It's gorgeous. A dream to drive. He's done a fantastic job. Technically he's come in £10 under estimate, but whilst he was doing it he decided to replace a blown headlight, topped up with anti-freeze, filled up the oil, and with good stuff, not just Halfords own brand, put air in the tyres and a few other bits and charged just £20 extra so ended up £10 over estimate. I'm not quibbling. It was worth every penny.

I can sleep easy in my bed knowing when the worst comes to the worst he is there ready and waiting.

New Old Technology

One of the weirdest things about Everest is that when we sell something, despite the fact that

1) we use laptops at point of sale and could e-mail orders,

2) we have to log in to the company each night to update our machines and send them our days work,

3) they won't pay us any money until they have the actual contract in their hands,

despite these three things, they insist that as soon as we come out of a house with a contract, we have to fax them a copy.

Fax. FAX! Who in God's name still thinks fax is the modern way to transmit information?

So normally we leave a house and start looking for anywhere that might still have fax facilities. There aren't many.

But today I have unleashed a veritable maelstrom of modern technological practices and. by fair means or foul. have complied with their request without coming within 50 paces of a fax machine.

This is the route I took.....

1) Three seperate photo's of the three pages of contract were taken on my mobile phone.

2) These photo's were then sent by bluetooth to my laptop.

3) Having saved them as jpg's they were then inserted into an Open Office document and resixed to fill one page per photo, thus replicating the original A4 paperwork.

4) This new three page document is exported as a pdf file.

5) The pdf is uploaded to an online fax company.

6) The online fax company transmit my pdf as a fax to my business center.

7) A confirmatory email tells me the transmission was successful.

8) A text tells me they have received, read and registered the contract.


Not as simple as just faxing but for the trouble of finding a wifi connection in public it makes for a quicker process, in effect, than travelling back to the 1960's world of technology.

The Visitation

We have had a visitor staying with us for the last few days.

It was quite nice to see her - she hasn't lived in London for the last few years, having relocated to LLanelli about 5 years ago.

It was quite nice to meet some of her friends as the shortage of time here meant group meetings rather than visiting each singly.

It was quite nice to hear gossip of her other half, a school friend of mine, who decided not to come down and visit.

But no matter how nice those things were, they are as nothing to the niceness of having our flat back to ourselves again.

And she probably feels the same relief at getting back home again.

Multi Coloured

In two weeks time I'm taking part in a concert. All the songs have to have a colour in the title. You have to wear a shirt of the colour that is in the title of your song.

Am I pleased I chose Orange|

Now I have to find an orange shirt and I don't want to spend £30 as I'm very, very, very unlikely to wear it again. Or I might just dye a white shirt.

God, how I suffer for my art!

Distortion

The older one gets, the more confusing modern life becomes. Not from the point of view of new technology, which I can handle pretty well, but more in the way of relating to modern society. The adoration of celebrity, the need to change perfectly useable words for something different, either just for the sake of it or to make it simpler to understand and I guess a general detachment from the main body of society. I guess it is a case of life as you get older regressing. I don't think it is anything new to feel that when one gets very old you are regressing back into childhood by needing to be looked after. Maybe I am in the reverse teenage years, feeling as though the world doesn't understand me.

There was a story this week in the papers that typifies this feeling.

Jeremy Kyle, tv presenter, has had cancer. The media could just report it if they really feel they must but as normal it had to be done in such a dramatic way.

Apparently Jeremy suffered a "toxic" tumour. Toxic? Do they mean malignant? Is that just to make a celebrity different from the rest of us? But then there are other references to toxic tumours. So are toxic tumours a dumbing down of malignant tumours? Why if they are the same do we have to change the name? Then, having had his treatment, he has "an agonising wait" to see if he was clear. Compared to what? To mere mortals who just have a slightly uncomfortable wait? A laissez faire attitude to their results?

The media whips up a sense that Jeremy, and I am sure by no means his idea, has suffered more than anyone else. That a celebrity suffers greater and is thus worthy of our sympathy because he is a "celebrity". No doubt a case not so much of "if you prick us do we not bleed" as "if you gouge us do we not hemorrage".

And indeed the media did it's job correctly. I have a friend, (of a friend), who is what might be considered a typical Sun reader and indeed she felt a great wave of sympathy for him. More than she would have for a general member of the public.

Why do our "heroes" have to be celebrities? Why do celebrities have to be nonentities? Why change words that have been perfectly fine for years just for the sake of it.

Anyway, am I just old or is there someting in it?

The 56 Year Old Virgin

This afternoon I have done something I have never done before. It's not that I've being doing anything wrong. I've just done different variations. As Elmo might say, "Same but Different". Some of my friends have done it, often, but I've been a little bit nervous of it. Still, you're never too old to try something new.

So, I've agreed to take a part in a play where for the first time it's straight acting. In forty years of treading the boards, or squashing them under my bulk to be more accurate, I've done - farce, comedy, pantomime, opera, operetta, musicals, revues and probably more, but not standing on stage and trying to not be an idiot. Unless the part is to play an idiot. Which it isn't. I'm playing a drunk aggressive father. I will be on stage for about two minutes delivering my six lines.

I might play it as dear dear Larry would have done, or then again I might just play it as it comes out of my mouth in the direction I am standing.

It is, however, a new play. I am the first thespian ever to play the role of "dad". Or at least this particular dad. Come March the 24th a grateful audience will be enthralled. entranced and entertained by the eight of us.

Do we have any idea when the nominations for The Baftas close?

And they're off....

No, this isn't an oblique reference to the Tesco horse burger controversy, although there have been some remarkably good jokes surrounding it, but of course this years Blogathon. I think I might be first up.

12 hours later.....

Well, I would have been if I'd posted this when I did my morning routine of going through my blogroll rather than starting to write it when I got in this evening.

Day one and my sneaky plan of pre-writing all 28 posts has not materialised due to my natural ability of not getting round to doing things. (Musn't let M see this otherwise she'll bring up the fact that she is still waiting for the shelf to be put up six years later. I probably blogged about that last Feb when if was only five years). But now I wish I had done them. It is mayhem and madness in the wonderful world of windows as we go into the last few days of the January Sale. So, instead of leaving a nice 3 hour gap between appointments to give each potential customer my full attention and incredibly superb customer service, Head Office are packing in appointments like there's no tomorrow. Today's were at 11:00, 1:00, 2:00 and 4:00. Luckily someone begged me to sign them up so I did.

So, not only am I not first, I'm also not inspired due to being tired. (ooh look, that's two days in a row with rhyming). So you're getting this. Tomorrow will be better. Honest. Probably.

'Twas The Night Before.....

'Twas the night before Blogathon, when all through the house
Not a reader was scrolling, by touchpad or mouse;
The connections were hung by the networks with care,
In hopes that the bloggers soon would be there;

The readers were nestled on sofas or beds,
While visions of mega-blogs danced in their heads;
And work was forgotten cos work is absurd,
when you need to consider each single typed word,

When out in the ether there arose such a clatter,
as bytes and bits flew through internet matter.
Away on to Windows they flew like a flash,
Opened up weblinks, regardless of cash.

Ipad and tablets were opened and wireless
connections were made, the readers were tireless.
They'd waited a year for their annual fix,
which bloggers would throw themselves into the mix?

Come Brennig, Denise, Kennamatic and Masher,
with work safe post or others more rasher,
with erudite musings on this or on that,
with maybe a picture of kittens or cats.

So whether your new to this Feb Blogathon
as a newbie or old hand, you're welcomed along,
for 28 days we'll keep you amused,
though the writers will end up battered and bruised.

So link to us all and be of good cheer,
and as of tomorrow, mine appears here.

2013 - Year of the unexpected.

There may be much fodder here for the February Blogathon, or I might just dangle this information here leaving you wanting more. 2013 so far includes...

My father received a call from The Lord Lieutenant of Norfolk inviting him to a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace for his services to Philately. (Who will be the first to say that philately gets you everywhere?).

My ex, Linda, has appeared once already in court to defend herself against the council who are trying to evict her, (she is homeless, living in temporary accomodation), because the Council has charged her with something incorrect and they won't reverse it. In May she returns to court with her solicitor defending her under Article 8 of the European Bill of Human Rights. Let's see how they like that!

I have been approached by the UK's top Moody Blues tribute band to try out as the replacement flautist/backing singer when the present one leaves later this spring.

I've sold some windows already this year! (I realise this is less plausible than the previous events!).

A friend who was an extra in the Les Mis film appears in 8 different sections and is seen both with, and possibly more often than, Russel Crowe.

Out With The Old

And as quickly as possible.

There is much looking backwards and forwards around the blogosphere but so little has happened this year I can't be bothered. In general, 2012 has been crap, finished off by the fact we should be on our way to M's sister for the new year but she rang this morning to say they are all down with flu so we have lost our three day mini break.

Surely 2013 has to be an improvement, he says, knowing that there's every chance it won't be.

And They All Lived Happily Ever After

My stint at Waterstones has ended. 6 weeks of learning about book selling and what happens behind the scenes, Part of that was to work three weeks of night shifts to keep restocking the shelves so they were full for the next day's trade.

It's been rather enjoyable. I was the oldest one there. by some margin, and so I played on that at my expense. And have also made a good friend out of it.

Back to the wonderful world of windows now, except they may be taking on staff for January as well and I've put my name down so we'll see what happens......

The Gas Man Cometh

Eventually.

We have just spent 4 weeks without our boiler.

In October we decided it was time for the boiler to have it's annual service. A little man came round from whoever it is we employ for this purpose and he tested this, that and the other. Then, instead of telling us that all was well he mention ed that the flue was rusting and there was contamination and a slight leak of carbon monoxide. He also discovered that the pipe leading from the meter to the boiler was too narrow, (and also for some reason when the boiler was installed some years back they connected the two via the gas hob?!?! Oh, and the governor needs changing. I understand that is something on the meter not a comment about his boss.

He then proceeded to "cap off" the boiler until the repairs were done, leaving us with no hot water and no heating.

So, M and I spent a week discussing who and how we should get the repairs done. This seemed to revolve greatly around the fact that I'm not earning enough money. Once that discussion was finished we got in touch with M's daughter who works in property maintenance and she organised one of her companies to come round and quote. Excellent, it only took 3 days for them to fit in the 10 minute visit. Then, within only another three days they managed to tell G (M's daughter, [this is getting wuite Bond-like with all these initials]}, that it would cost quite a bit but not more than £500 as they hadn't got a price for the parts yet. So two weeks ago it was decided that yes, it had to be done, get on with it.

In the meantime, because we were diverting the external pipework for the flue in order to comply with building regs we had to get permission from our managing agents. Who didn't reply. So we wrote again. They still didn't reply. So we've told them we are doing it and saving that argument up for a later date.

We prepared for the glorious day of repairs by M taking everything out of the kitchen that might get in the way and blocking up the sitting room and me keeping quiet in case we got round to discussing my income again. Spare keys were left with G so they could pick them up and get in whilst we were at work and we looked forward to having heat and showers once more.

No-one turned up. An "emergency" had occurred. So bad was this emergency that it rendered them unable to ring and mention they wouldn't be arriving. (Full marks however for not going for the tried and tested "the clutch has gone on the van" excuse, much loved by the installers of home improvment products). They didn't turn up the next day, or the one after that. Now they weren't even ringing G back.

To cut a very long story down to only a long story, they turned up on Tuesday evening at 6pm, half an hour before we were going our for the evening. But they had the new flue, and the plume kit, and the extention needed, but they'd forgotten the new pipe for the meter/boiler connection. They'd also forgotten how much they were going to charge but it wasn't a problem as they'd emailed G with a price. Except apparently they had forgotten that too as she has never received it. They did however do enough to turn the boiler back on again!

Still, never mind as they now appear to have forgotten to come and get their money last night.

We have learnt three things from this experience.

1) M's grandfather lived in a croft in the Scottish Highlands and never had running hot water in his life. We would not have survived!

2) You know when you eat ice cream and it gives you a head ache that starts at the back of your nasal cavity? If you wash your hair with the shower when you only have freezing cold water you can recreate the aformentioned pain but centered on the top of your neck.

3) Apparently I haven't earnt enough money recently.

Bloody Technology

I've just typed a long post on the trials and tribulations of spending a month without hot water and heating and the computer has deleted it. Pretend you've read it, sympathise, mutter about bloody workmen these days, and be pleased that all is now well.

Right, I'm off to mess around with shelfloads of books again.

Good News. I found it!

Christmas Booking

So, The Wonderful World of Windows is proving to be a charity as I seem to be doing a great deal of working for no financial return. This being the case, and with the impetus of The Magnificent M using "a recurring loud voice to my ear interface", I have decided to get a part time job in the run up to Christmas.

Having perused various job sites I applied to a well known book purveyor and blow me down with a flapping dust cover, they decided they wanted me.

So, come Monday I will be Bookseller To The Gentry at Kingston. Or Richmond.....Chiswick.......Twickenham........Teddington, wherever they want to send me.

It feels like I'm turning over a new leaf.

Yeoman On Call

Not much blogging going on because it's performance week. How this show has ever got on stage amazes me but we are there and last nights audience enjoyed it.

Not much dieting going on because it's performance week. Eating both regularly and eating healthily is too much during this week but then there's a lot of nervous energy expended.

Not much sleep going on because it's performance week. Takes a couple of hours to come down after the performance but there's still work in the morning. Roll on Saturday for a lie-in.

Stones and Glasshouses

Following on from the previous post, I have just heard a well known television personality laying in to Jimmy Saville. Obviously there wasn't the time during their interview to mention the time they tried to defraud the insurance company I worked for with a false claim, and then, when they were told they weren't going to get away with it, threatened to drag us on to a well known consumer programme to teach us a lesson!

Those Who Live By The Sword....

This could have been a long post on the double standards of those who are wading in to the Saville story and all the satellite threads about times past and the fact they obviously feel they live the perfect life in perfect times. They should just remember that in 40 years time people will look back at this period and rip it's morals apart just as easily fro wherever there viewpoint is.

Shrinking

So, that's the first stone gone. The bigger psychological boost comes in 4 pounds time as the weight in stones dips into the 16s. There will then be a real battle on as I consider that s quite a success even though it isn't really.

I've joined the gym as well. I don't mind gyms, I quite like them, much more so than trying to run round the streets or other exercise. I didn't do myself any favours when I did my assessment as my triceps appear to have been brutally beaten by iron bars and put through a mangle. Or maybe it's just that I never use them. As long as I get a reasonable level of fitness and it helps with the weight loss it will be deemed a success. The dreams of a six-pack are long gone and based on the operations of a couple of years back I should imagine the muscle damage would preclude it anyway. I shall have to rely on my natural charm and wit to attract the ladies. (When the Magnificent M isn't watching).

Onwards and Downwards!

Weird World

Today I pressed the wrong button.

I was messing around with the side bar, you will see the new weight loss button, there so I can hopefully get prodded when it starts going back towards zero pounds lost!

And so I inserted the html. Threw in a bit more code. Went mad with br tags.

Then I pressed a button.

Next thing I knew I had a new template, different layout, half my personalised sections had disappeared.

New additions were everything in the world to do with Google!

Worked out how to get the old template back.

Good!

Wasting Away

Created by MyFitnessPal - Nutrition Facts For Foods

Triumph Two

Following on from the success of The Olympic Opening Ceremony, last night's Paralympic curtain raiser was just as good. And I've become a fan of Nicola Miles-Wildin who played Miranda.

She's worked with Graeae Theatr company who are about to put on a production at The Southbank Centre. Sorely tempted to go up and see something if she's taking part, and I rarely go to the theatre or at least not for straight acting. I suspect she isn't involved though althougb some of those taking centre stage in the production of Spasticus Autisticus will be. I wonder what Ian Drury would have thought about it? Pleased, I hope.

And good to see Stephen Hawkin given such a major role. The highlight for me being his final words that no matter what, everyone has the ability to excel at something.

And in a last minute dive across the living room to get an apple each, M & I took part in the World's Largest Apple Bite.

Twiggymatic

Well, hardly the shape of Twiggy yet which is as well, although at the moment I've probably got bigger boobs than her. Anyway, I have started once again on yet another diet. Except this time I am using an internet based diet stats site My Fitness Pal plus it's android app partner.

Apart from putting in the wrong start weight as I decided there were only 12 lbs in a stone, it is rather good. I've completed a whole day without having "cheated" by not counting something. Made somewhat easier because I was at home all day we'll see how it goes when I'm out and about and also it's new and exciting and you get to use the bar scanner and allsorts. It does hold a remarkable database of food items though although some of the figures seem a bit suspect. The ones I think don't look quite right I shall check.

As always, my recommended weight is completely unachievable, even at the top end. Starting from 18 stone 3 I am hoping to lose 2 stone and get back to what I consider my cruising weight of 16:3 with a waist measurement around 34 inches. Ideally from there I take another stone off and get back to my "fighting" weight of 15:3 but I'll not sweat, probably literally, if I don't reach that. To get to the recommended BMI of 25 maximum though I need to hit 13 stone 5! I was that once during my adult life. I was 23, had a waist measurement of 24 inches and played squash 5 times a week. My knees would be hard pushed these days to stand up to playing tiddlywinks 5 times a week!

I shall bore you with the occasional update as and when. I don't see why I should be the only one to suffer!

Rural Charm

Yesterday was a choice. Do we go to Wells Next The Sea and carry on round the coast to Kings Lynn or head inland to a picturesque market town.

The latter won. We headed for Fakenham.

All I really knew about Fakenham was that it had a racecourse, and as there isn't a meeting till October it must be a National Hunt course I guess. What I do know now is that the racecourse must be all that is going for it.

Monday saw quite a few shops closed but of those open the hairdresser was staffed by young girls sporting the popular hair colouring of dark hair with the bottom 3 or 4 inched dyed blonde, but not white blonde, a sort of murky creamy yellow colour. We passed the tattoo parlour where a young woman was having her thighs tattooed on the couch by the window. Luckily she was wering underwear otherwise it could have doubled as a gynaecologists examination room. Everything else appeared to be either a charity shop, a discount store or a fried chicken/fish and chip/chinese take out. (That's not a choice of one of the three but an amalgamation of all three).

To be fair I guess it is no worse than most other small towns around the UK, nor for that matter, suburbs of London and we did feel rather snobbish. Not so snobbish though that we didn't avail ourselves the chance to buy a set of measuring spoons/cups from the discount store for the princely sum of £1.25.

The Horizontal Sticks

I went to the local quiz last night.

There was a question on "which piece of equipment did Beth Tweddle win her Olympic medal on"? I of course answered the asymetric bars.

I was marked as wrong.

They had the answer, the uneven bars.

Don't be ridiculous I said.

On checking the news reports this morning I discover they are now called the uneven bars.

We have dumbed down gymnastic equipment!

Roll on the kickybally season!

Early Warning.

Visited Latham's Store in Potter Heigham today.

They have their christmas deorations on sale!

Not even Tesco have managed that yet.

Epic Fail

Nope, the mojo is still missing. I could be blogging about my trip to the Olympic Park last Tuesday or the meal at Bel Canto, the opera based restaurant, on Wednesday evening, but the fingers/brain/will interface just ain't working.

I'm off on holiday on Monday for the best part of a fortnight so maybe I'll find one somewhere up in the Norfolk Broads. I thought I better mention I'm going otherwise you wouldn't realise I'd gone. I'm not taking my laptop so maybe I will come back refreshed and raring to go. And if by some chance I get over this slump as I'm staying at my dads I can use their computer.

Keep Calm and Carry On.

Kennamatic to Earth

Well, I've been a quiet bunny haven't I.

Not because there haven't been things to blog about but mainly because I never have time to blog them, Or at least, other things have more priority in those times when I could be blogging. Must try harder as Messrs Hayter, Osborne, Davies, Collins, McNee, Wakely and other teachers at school would, and most definitely did, say.

So the headlines have been;

Work has been busy. Even better, I've even managed to sell stuff so there is income.

Being chairman of HLO is time consuming! Not only that, I had to have a talk with someone to remove them from the role in the next production because they aren't up to it. Not his fault, he should never have been cast. Our MD is skating on very thin ice!

As well as having Linda homeless a mate t work, 69 and suffering from a heart complaint has ended up homeless and his council are being as much use as Linda's.In addition, whilst helping at a gig I ended up sorting out another homeless person who turned up on the door who was rather ill. I'm thinking of changing my name to Mother Theresa! The percentage of Buddhist in me does however like to think that maybe the new sales and income might be karmicly linked to helping the homeless.

And on the music front I've been helping out at gigs for
Claude Bourbon.
Neads & Prince.
Ian McNabb
All the above for Helen Martin


Still, who knows. Maybe I'll blog again soon.

Food for Thought

Well, the world of blogging has hit the headlines today. I shouldn't think anyone is now unaware of NeverSeconds, a blog by a 9 year old girl reviewing her school lunches. It looks like she will now be allowed to carry on with her blog as the council appears to have come to it's senses.

Two points I would like to make though.

1) The council were very quick to attack a nine year old who hadn't really done anything, (the problem coming from a national newspaper who used the blog to make a point), in order to protect it's employees, the "dinner ladies". Yet, when a councils' other employees, teachers and TA's, are attacked by students online, they seem somewhat reticent to get involved as those students have the right to self-expression. It seems it'd easier to deal with a 9 year old than a group of bolshie teenagers.

2) Amongst the many directives that the government has sent down to schools are to get children engaged with the online world in a responsible way, to encourage children to be involved in activities that widen their horizons and for a school to have links with a school in another part of the world. If you read her blog whe appears to be very intelligent in the way she approaches her blogging, is talking to people all over the world and engaging with children around the world and encouraging them to join in with her idea. In addition she is raising money for feeding kids in Africa. Still, at least she is learning early that in Britain for all the talk of encouraging success nobody likes someone who is. And that girl is a real success.

Credit Where Credit's Due

Firstly, I seem to have completely lost the art of posting. Without the discipline of having to post every day I never seem to get round to it. Anyway......

I had a phone call from "3" today. Following up their calls of the last few days when the leave a message but not saying who they are. It's actually their collections department because I owe them two rental for my online dongle which I asked them to cancel as I no longer need it. The person who rang obviously reckons themselves as a credit controller. They know how to get money out of people - you threaten them that their credit rating will be damaged if they don't pay up. A great tactic if the person you are threatening actually gives a toss about their credit rating. I don't. Mine's so destroyed that a debt of £39.00 probably isn't going to bring me to my knees.

He spent a great deal of time telling me that they would have to put a black mark against my name and I spent a lot of time replying that he was welcome to do that but I wasn't going to be paying him any money today. So we spent 15 minutes in a repetitive argument where he became more agitated that his one weapon was failing miserably. So we left it there, with a promise from the nice young gentleman that he will be ringing again. No doubt to tell me that they are still considering putting a black mark against my name.