The London Highway Code

PEDESTRIANS

It is no longer required that you look in either direction when crossing the road.

Under no circumstance should you hurry to cross the road.

If you should inadvertently catch the eye of an approaching car's driver make eye contact and look quizzically at them. Then, without speeding up, carry on sauntering across the road at a leisurely pace. If you were crossing at a diagonal angle please do not veer onto a straight course.

CYCLISTS

It is a requirement that you use lights. Preferably dotted at various points around your body and the bike. It would be better if they were both a variety of colours and flashing.

Should you decide for some obscure reason you wish to wear a helmet, please make sure it incorporates a camera stuck on with duck tape. It is certainly important that you have video evidence of any car who deigns to go through a green light whilst you have right of way passing through a red light. It is important that you take the opportunity to mark the offending car by hitting the bodywork and shouting "Tosser" at the driver regardless of sex, colour or creed.

On major trunk roads where a dedicated cycle lane has been provided please ignore it as this is for old people, losers and children. You can stick to the trunk road because you are awesome and so much better than them.

Always wear clothing that blends in with the prevailing light conditions.

MOTORCYCLISTS

We have updated the rules regarding "filtering". You are now able to undertake, overtake and weave in and out of traffic at will. Cars are restricted to using only the left hand side of the road but motorcyclists are exempt.

If for any reason you feel you may be about to be involved in an accident because you have misjudged your route whilst going 80mph in a 30mph zone, try to veer into a bus lane and hit a car turning left proving they weren't paying attention and endangering your life.

MOTORISTS

You are to blame. Whatever happens. You are to blame.

But it isn't all bad news. We have introduced a new game to improve your reflexes whilst driving. When at traffic lights there is a prize for the first motorist to hoot their horn as the lights go green. If you are new to this game we suggest you check the lights that have a countdown on them. This should help you co-ordinate your attack. The present record for a London driver is 0.00000001 nano-seconds.

If you find yourself held up by a motorist who has selfishly blocked your progress for half a second you are required to drive alongside them, block the entire road for five minutes whilst shouting at them as to why they have wasted your time when you are in an incredible hurry.

Special rule for Mercedes Benz and BMW drivers. We have reserved your right to park in spaces that other drivers foolishly think are for disabled drivers. Idiots. We know they are for you because you are elite and above everyone else.

Passing the Time

I go through phases of what will entertain me during the hours that I really can't be bothered to do anything else. Once upon a time it was crosswords, and then the same sort of thing but with clues leading to numbers for the grid. IN more odern times it was Suduko, then I had a longish affair with Nonograms but for the last couple of months it has been Mathdoku, a sort of Suduko Plus.

The easy ones take a couple of minutes, the harder ones can take a number of attempts before I get them right and can fill in quarter of an hour and a lot of swearing under the breath.

It seems much too easy to sit here tapping away doing one of these than reading a book or possibly even blogging, which may explain the dearth of posts.

It'll pass soon no doubt, I'll get bored with them, and then I'll have to mpve on to something else.

Any suggestions?

Playing God one way or another.

So, tonight the House of Commons has voted to allow three parent babies. The chance to change the genetics of a child to make sure they are free of certain genetic illnesses/diseases.

I am always interested in these medical advances. As we know, I am indeed related to a potato genetically or at least chromosonically(?). Part of my Kleinfelters Syndrome is that I can't have kids, and even though it is only on the last few years that has been medically confirmed I have "known" this all my life. To me I could cut that cake in one of two ways, either God has decided I wasn't to procreate or, through natural selection, I was not chosen to continue my line as I would weaken further the stock. Whichever, the result was the same. And I have been content with my lot. Never have I considered using medicine to overturn the Will of God nor to disobey the laws of natural selection. But today's vote opens up a new "choice.

When I was born, nobody had heard of Kleinfelter as he didn't discover the syndrome until the 1980s. Even as recently as 2010, when I was treated for the Sertoli Cell tumour they had no idea that was linked to Kleinfelters. If my mum became pregnant today, and no-one would be more surprised than her as she's 83 but stick with this, they could test for it. And one must suppose that if she wanted a planned pregnancy, with a little help from a second female, all the problems I have had in my life medically, could be swept away. So tonight, instead of wondering whether such a thing would ever be possible, it now is. And if I could advise my mum as to what to do...........

Keep me as I am. I would rather be this me than the other one.

One of the big arguments of the pro camp is that it does nothing to change the personality. But of course it does. Not by nature but by nurture. I am who I am because of the things that shape me. And then they always thinks the "improved" child will have a better life. But that's the same thinking that says if you hadn't given away that penalty in the first half you wouldn't have lost. But all it means is it would be different, not necessarily better.

So, I can't help but feel this is a retrograde move. But of course, I might feel differently if it was going to be my child and something way more serious than being a bit of a potato.

The Great Adventure

So, three posts back, or four months ago if you'd rather, I teased you with "some potentially exciting news". Since then it has seemed likely on some days and unlikely on others. Indeed, if I had posted this yesterday I would have said it was unlikely yet today it has suddenly moved forward.

So here we go.

There is a possibility that we are going to up sticks and move to the South of France within the next few weeks or months. About 10 minutes outside Limoux,some 20 minutes from Carcassonne. The story of how this came about will be for another day but maybe I'll finish my working life there instead of overcrowded London.

So instead of spending my evenings in front of the tele I might spend it in the pool.

Or if I can't walk as far as that, maybe a glass of wine on the terrace under the vines.

So, for the sum of £195,000.00, we will take over a property management company and purchase the owners house.




That's the 6 bedroom house where the shutters are, plus the wide building to the left which will convert into another 6 bed house, or separate appartments.

And all funded by a 2 bedroom flat in Isleworth leaving a £100k spending money.That's how ridiculous London prices are, or maybe French prices.

So the flat is on the market and if we can sell it in the next few weeks we go, if not, we probably won't. It's in the lap of the Gods. And our estate agent.

Another February, Another Blogathon.

Hurrah, it is that time of year when some of us put ourselves through the stress of trying to write something every day. And already I am up against it as I wake to find I have man flu. Having had a sore throat for two days and I now have a bit of a cough as well. My voice has gone down about seven octaves to make Barry White sound like a castrati which I am using to good effect by lying about on the settee moaning in a deep and sexy sort of a growl. However, The Magnificent M appears to be inured to it and is refusing to cook me a full english. How I suffer!

So the good news is that the post I would have posted today can be used tomorrow, so now I can go back to moaning loudly in the hope that I might get a decent lunch. Or maybe a roast for tea. Or possibly just a raised eyebrow and a look to me that says, yeah, like that's going to happen.

Horrendous Hiatus

Gosh. Four months since I posted. That must be a record. Even when I gave up blogging I don't think I managed 4 months. However, we know what is coming up shortly. And before Masher poses the question, in the words of TVs Dragons - I'm In!

Visiting The Past

I have some potentially exciting news. But you can wait for that. Instead, today you can have this.

Later today I will be doing something I haven't done, I think, for 46 years. It coincides with something I haven't done for I think about 30 years, and lastly, another event from maybe 35 years ago.

How do all these things come up on one day. Because a very rare alignment has taken place for the first time in over 60 years.

Because this afternoon I will visit Griffin Park to see Brentford vs Leeds United. The first time they have played against each other in my lifetime.

The last time I saw Brentford was against Watford at Wembley in about 1985. They lost.

The last time I went to Griffin Park I was in my teens And Ollie Mansley and John O'Mara were paying.

The last time I watched Leeds live it was the classic team of Sprake, Reaney, Madeley, Bremner, Charlton, Hunter, Lorimer, Clarke, Jones, Giles and Gray. I think I was 11, maybe 12. These were the days when they still had leather footballs. Pitches in the winter would be mudbaths. Forwards learnt how to ride tackles and if they ended up on the ground they got up quick to a) prove they weren't hurt and b) to carry on trying to get the ball in the net. Not for these men the idea of writhing in agony because someone came within 20 yards and gave them a harsh look.

Now, were did I put my Leeds scarf, bobble hat and rattle!

Blind Panic

I do wish Diamond Geezer would give a warning when he is going to do his annual mention to all of us who have him on their blogroll. If he had I could have posted something arty or highbrow and made sure I posted regularly. Instead I feel like you've all walked into the room and me just in my underwear. (Sorry to those having breakfast for that visualisation). So thanks for dropping by but I suspect there are others who will hold your interest further down the list.

My Old Dutch

"We've been together now for forty years" as the old music hall song says. Although, in this case, it's not the Magnificent M with whom I reach 10 years next June 1st, but the world of work.

40 years today I was gainfully employed by Nat West Bank in Margaret Street just off Oxford Street. The branch is no longer there although I occasionally walk past the building and memories of the people I worked with come back. Although today was my official anniversary I didn't actually turn up for three days as I was ill with nerves. Every time I went to get the tube into London I just felt sick. In the end, on day three, my dad paid for me to go by taxi. My first month's wage was £75.00. Rich beyond my wildest dreams. I gave my mother £25.00 and the other £50 went on fares, lunches, booze, clothes, a Donovan LP but as far as I can work out, no women.

But that isn't the only 40th anniversary this month. I can't remember the exact date in July but 40 years ago this month I passed my driving test. I took an online theory test and "recognise the traffic signs" quiz yesterday and was pleased, although I didn't get 100%, I got in the 90%s for both. I suspect that's better than most of the people on the road at the moment if the last couple of days is anything to go by. Petrol was under £1 per gallon. My first car was a C reg Austin 1100. There was room under the bonnet for a couple of passengers, not like engines today where you lift the bonnet and are confronted with a large flat plate of metal. You could change the spark plugs easily where now the engine block has to come out at great expense, or it does whenever mine needs a service. And to celebrate I have a new car. New to me, but 14 years old to the world. A Citroen Xsara Picasso. It's known as the doggy car at home as the previous owner had a number of dogs, the smell of which is lingering despite a deep clean. But for £400 on ebay it's a bargain. Perfect for carrying my Everest Kit and on the motorway can do over 800 miles to the tank of diesel. Hmmm. I feel a list coming on....

Socksed Up

I am obsessed. Obsessed with socks. But not just any socks. M&S socks. But not just any M&S socks. The plain ones. In their lovely colour coded packs of 7. I probably already have 40 pairs and I noticed new lots in this week. 6 sets. That's another 42 pairs. Including a limeish green one. and some rather fine purple ones. Actually, there's only 5 lots to get because I bought the ones with the green in them.

I just can't get enough socks! (fnarr fnarr)

Un petit coin de paradis

We rarely head up into town. It all seems too much trouble with the crowds, the travel, be it by tube train or road. We sometimes go to the Southbank which is easy to get to for us and we usually go if there are any free concerts. We sometimes do a quick dash to Chappels to buy music, early on a Saturday, when there is little traffic. But now we have another destination.

Thursday was the Magnificent M's birthday. A friend had bought tickets for Phantom of the Opera so we headed in after work and looked for somewhere to eat. Everywhere seemed to be full with a waiting time for tables and we only had just over half an hour. Just as we thought it might have to be McD on the hoof I turned and saw a small french restaurant. The menu in the window looked good and a reasonable price. They asked if we'd booked but the manager gave the girl a table number and I explained we wouldn't be long.

O! M! G! as those younger than me by a generation might say. If they had picked the place up from Bedarieux and dropped it there it couldn't have been more French. The dishes on the menu are properly French and are executed in a French style. Or at least the ones we had were. M & I had the Warm Chicken Liver Salad and our friend has Duck with Peach. The only problem was we couldn't do it justice because we had to rush.

The only thing that stops it being completely authentic is that although they bring you water as you want it you don't get bread automatically. And the wine is a bit expensive compared to France but the food and wine is good value for Central London.

The restaurant in question is Le Troisiemeon Panton Street off Haymarket.

If you like French food, cooked in a French style in a typical French Restaurant then get yourself down there. But make sure you do the meal justice by allowing plenty of dining time!

Life, Death and The Wild West

It lives, Igor!

So, contrary to public rumour I haven't won the euromillions and swanned off to sunnier climes, much as I wish it were true. I have been swanning. Sort of. In the way that they look serene above the water and are going hell for leather beneath.

As we all know, I am doing the two jobs which are both going apace and would keep me busy at the best of times. However, for the last few months, and culminating in the second week of March, I was directing and performing in, having previously written and devised, a Wild West Revue show. This had the effect of making sure I had to fit in about 20 hours of work on it a week into the two hours I seemed to have left when not working. Now it's all over I have to say it went damned well, though I say so who shouldn't, and I'll probably start on next years shortly so it isn't such a rush come next year.

So then, having got more commitments than a bishop at Easter, my father decided to pop his clogs mid-Feb. My step-sisters came flying in from The States, which was nice cos I haven't seen them for ages, if not aeons, but meant, with a three week window, we had to get him cremated, sort out the house and then scatter his ashes. So in 20 days I had two trips to Norfolk and one to Yorkshire. Which took up three weekends and quite a few midweek days, just in front of the show.

At the end of all that I was suffering from a medical condition known as "knackered". However, I'm now back to just doing the two jobs and seem to have all the time in the world. Don't know why I wasn't coping with it before!

Missing In Action

Hello.

I've been missing but for a reason, not just cos I was being lazy. More when I get the chance.

But in the meantime, look at this property and the price. There isn't a 3 bed house anywhere near here that doesn't cover the cost of buying this place in the South of France. It's in a damn good location as well.

Click Here

Abandoned

The Magnificent M has gone on a school trip leaving me to fend for myself. I am doing well, I have not starved, set the flat on fire, run amok with the hoover or had any other mishap. The only thing I have to remember is to make sure the flat is tidy when she gets back.

But I don't half miss her. It's rare for me to be here on my own and there is some enjoyment in being able to do whatever I want when I want (Who was that sniggering at the back?!) but the place seems very empty.

I think I've got the better half of the deal though. M is trying to keep twenty seven 10 year olds entertained. Not on her own obviously but it won't exactly be a relaxing break.

She's back Friday, I don't know who'll be more relieved. Her to be rid of the kids, or me to get her back.

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......