Baroque & Roll

I like baroque music, both orchestral and choral. I can't think of a day or an occasion that couldn't be brightened by it being accompanied by Zadok The Priest. But there is one genre of Baroque music that I can't stand. And that's Baroque Opera. My God, it's dire. I saw my first Baroque opera about 9 years ago, Dido and Aeneas. It contains one of the most famous arias, the cheerful When I am Laid in Earth. See how long you can last before having to rip your ears off.

This weekend we went and saw our second, The Prophetess or The History of Dioclesian by Henry Purcell. Some of his choral work is sublime. This isn't. It was three hours of my life I'll never get back. We went because a friend was in it. People left at the interval. We couldn't unfortunately because she would have realised. We both lost the plot of the story a few minutes in. And we lost the will to live a short time after.

It takes a lot to find something musical that makes compositions by Stockhausen sound good, but this did it. The only thing worse than Baroque Opera is Chinese Opera which sounds like a cat being put through a mangle and it's innards being used as the musical instruments.

With luck and a following wind that might be the last I ever have to hear. Unfortunately there are a number of French composers of the same era and I might then have to suffer not only a Baroque Opera but in a language I don't understand. Then again, maybe that will be an improvement.

Loupia Life - The Blog

Sightly premature as we haven't moved yet, but then there are things I already want to write, this is the web address for the blog where I will write about our big adventure.

https://loupialife.wordpress.com/

There won't be lots on there, three or four posts at the moment, until we move, although there will be a flurry in a couple of weeks time when we go out there for a week to start learning the ropes. Some of the stuff on there already, particularly the "about" page, probably contains much you have read on this blog.

There will be some other pages added, one on food and drink, another on local sights, maybe even a geocaching page if I have the time and inclination!

I shall continue to run this blog for some stuff that isn't France related and I will try to keep the two well apart. I'm not so worried about people coming from this site through to the other but from there to here, which is one reason for de-branding from Kennamatic and using the W host rather than Blogger. And nor will I put up a link in the side bar to the new site.

Anyway, feel free to saunter over at your will and I'll see you there, here or at both.

Missing

Well there we go. I managed to miss the last day of the Blogathon which would be really annoying if I hadn't posted late for a couple of others and even the day before was clicked through at 11.59pm. But well done to Mr Jones, and Mr Masher.

The other thing missing today is a phone call from my father. This will be the second year it is missing. He could never remember how old I was and I'm not dead sure I'd have got a card on the right day if it hadn't been for the women in his life, but then I'm not overly good myself although mine is because I'm so unorganised, but every St David's Day he would ring. I would be wished a happy celebration, I would have an update on whether the daffodils were out in The Broads and for how long if they were. We would then struggle to think of any other conversation we might want to have and then that would be it for another year.

The last thing missing this morning is my breakfast and it's already gone 10 so I'm off to get it!

The Long Goodbye

I suspect much of the next two months is going to involve saying goodbye to people. At this distance it is poeple I may have known a long time but are more acquaintances than friends.

Tonight I took part in the quiz at the local bowls club. I will see the members of my team again at least a couple of times but the rest of the people there, well, I doubt it. I've been going there since the early 1980s, not always often, but it spans over half my life, if only just.

Last night I resigned as Chairman of HLO, my musical theatre group. I will be seeing these people regularly until we go but there will now be an EGM and I will be replaced, swiftly.

It seems strange having said goodbye to some people whilst others I know much better and am closer to, particularly my immediate work colleagues, have no idea about France other than it's where I go on holiday.

Once it gets down to saying goodbye to my closest friends, even though I will see them relatively often, I suspect that is when it will really hit home that we are going and life is going to be changing very significantly.

And with a wave of a wand.....

.......we can build a city the size of Newcastle. Or it is to be hoped we can. So Nett Migration is just short of 300,000 for last year. Forget it is migration. How do we support 300,000 extra people with infrastructure each year. And to be fair, that isn't population growth which will be higher than that. It has taken 4 months to get Planning Permission to change the windows at our flat. A third of a year. As a country we needed to have built a third of Newcastle in that time. I bet we haven't.

And I'm sure we wouldn't, because the more you look at the way things work in the UK, it seems to involve no decision making but a lot of discussions and consultations. We will talk about how we accommodate all the extra people, what we need to do, how much do we need to do, how will we do it, and, oh heck, another party has got into power so we need to re-discuss all this again.

Oh well, at least the figures for this year will be two less than they would have been.

Although we are moving lock stock and barrel to France, when we retire we will have a place there and another back here, as we always planned come our glorious retirement. We can never afford to come back to London and so we know it will probably be halfway between London for seeing M's daughters and Nottingham for seeing M's sister. I suspect by then we may have had to build so many houses, particularly around the Capital, that we may be moving to the London Borough of Peterborough.

Parked

Today's driving experience.

On the way to work - A long wait whilst the passengers of a recently arrived train at Brentford Station came out and crossed the zebra crossing. All leaving just enough space so cars can't go so we waited whilst somewhere between 100 and 150 people sauntered across the road like a school crocodile.

On the way to after work meal in Shepherds Bush - I have to sit in the inside lane of Shepherds Bush Roundabout with my left hand indicator flashing away unable to go left as I am undertaken constantly by cyclists, motor scooters and motor bikes who all have "the right" to undertake/filter regardless of whether it might be deemed wise so to do and are damn lucky I just don't decide to go as I was in position well before any of them were in sight of me but if I did it would be my fault.

Food for Thought

There was an article on the BBC website this morning which I now can't find which is a pity because I wanted to at least refer to it in detail if not to link to it. It would also allow me to use the correct terms which I fear I do not remember or could misspell. So bear with me if you spot any glaring errors or omissions.

The article referred to the Sikh practice of providing meals at their temples for people to come and share. I think it is called langar but it is a founding principle of the religion. I have known for ages that this is something that happens because I knew some Sikhs who ran a restaurant and had some of the literature there and it cropped up in our discussions and I've also read about it in the newspapers years back when I would read such publications.

Now, there is one thing about knowing this act of charity goes on but totally another in realising how big an undertaking it is. The largest Sikh temple in the UK, I believe, is the gurdwara in Southall. It throws it's doors open each day to people who wish to come and eat, for free, with nothing in return but to show some respect for the surroundings, to not be under the influence of alcohol and to cover one's head which is an important part of their faith. Not unfair requests in return for a free meal. What I wasn't prepared for were the number of people passing through each day.

It averages 5000 per day midweek, rising to 10,000 per day at the weekends.

Now I know that not everyone going there is going because they are in need. Some will be there because it is their community and one way of joining in with communal meals, others just because they like the company and are from other Sikh communities making contact with a different gurdwara etc. I would imagine that the big increase at the weekend is not made up of the very needy but some of the travelers and local community members who work in the week and this is their chance to socialise. But the 5000 in the week? Many of them must be non-working. Again maybe not all homeless or needy, but how small a percentage do you think it might be and still not think the number is too high. If they are homeless or living on a desperately low wage then even if 10% fell into that category you are talking 500 people who are hungry enough, or poor enough to have to go there to eat, and if they are that poor they probably haven't travelled by car or come long distances.

It is like the foodbanks. There are more and more people needing charity to survive. In another three months there will be an election. I don't see where there is any likelihood of a party being elected who will make a difference.

Every Nook And Cranny

I have never had a private survey done on a property I have bought. I've had the building society one which is basically them checking they can't get their fingers burnt. In France their is a different system whereby the seller has to have a full survey done, And full certainly covers it. It may cost about £450 but it runs to some 75 pages of very detailed information. Checking especially for asbestos (11 pages), lead (9 pages) and termites (17 pages). All is well on our property, the stuff that is there is not is a dangerous condition. But in addition, every room has a detailed description of how the walls, ceiling and flooring are constructed. A complete electrical check. A complete check of the swimming pool runs to a further 7 pages. The only thing missing appears to be a blade by blade check of the lawn.

Now, maybe that is what we get for a private survey but I suspect not. People complain about French bureaucracy but when you are buying a house it isn't half reassuring to have all that information.

Even if it going to take us 6 months to translate it!

Beat Your Neighbour

Last September we had a couple of students move into one of the flats in our block. Now. we have had very little trouble from them because we are on the opposite side from them and we are at the back but once in a while we can hear rowdiness in the communal hallway and a definite smell of waccy baccy when their windows are open. A week last Friday there was another party in the flat and it all kicked off.

We were out that evening but when we got back at 11.45 the music was going. And then the next day the first email to the managing agent hit the system. We are very much in the loop because The Magnificent M is a director of the block and the first complainant was the other director, J. J has been like a dog with a bone. Demanding everything from them being evicted within the hour to having a procession of burning torches and throw them out of town. Well maybe not quite the latter but pretty close to it.

Now, whilst none of J's demands can be met as we have to do things properly the tenants don't really stand much of a chance.

The company I work for manage the flat, so I have all the inside knowledge of all the negotiations between tenants, landlord and ourselves, although it isn't in my area. M's daughters work for them as well and one of them is about to become the boss of the management pod that do run that flat. The lettings manager is a friend of Ms daughters and won't want to upset them. And today we discovered that the owner of the flat that has been most affected is a Detective Sergeant. And the management company prefer a quiet life and want them out too.

I think the odds are stacked up against them remaining there long.

Cold Turkey

I have a problem when I move to France. Diet Coke.

Since 1988 when I started driving for a living I have always been accompanied by diet coke. Any time other than in the car I can drink anything else I like, but driving, it has to be diet coke. I have a bit of a rule of thumb that I will only pay a maximum of 30p per can, although in all honesty I will pay more if there is no offer but I begrudge it.

The problem is, it's rarely less than the equivalent of 60p per can over there. And my Yorkshire sensibilities cannot cope with the idea of paying twice as much. So either I wean myself off slowly but miss out on my last chances to quaff gallons, or keep going and hit a wall when the supplies I take with me run out.

It's a quandary.

The Bionic Woman

I had a day off today so we could go up and see my mum. We'd planned this a few week back although it did allow us to tell her today that we were moving so that was good. As was the fact my brother popped in so I could tell him too. However, that's a by the by.

The last time I saw my mum she was still getting over her knee replacement. Today, we walked up into town and she went off like a greyhound out of the trap. And that's with just one knee done. She now has a date for the second op in mid may. God knows what she will be like after that. I'm assuming she will be training for the next Olympics.

The good thing for us is that when we saw her last she wasn't sure she could travel as far as Southern France. Today she was working out which of the ways to travel would work best. Probably after the second op jogging might become an option.

And So It Begins......

It has happened. Last Sunday we had a letter through our door from a young couple who had seen the flat on Saturday. They loved it, and they will be starting their married life here. So much did they love it that they offered £2000 over the asking price just in case anyone else viewed the flat in the next day or two and hit the asking price. They had let the Agent know as well and during today the agent confirmed all the preliminaries had been done and the offer was confirmed, accepted and agreed.

We are going to France bar something now going horribly wrong with the actual sales process, and it really shouldn't he says, touching everything wooden in reach.

We have confirmed with the French house owners that we are now ready, they have agreed a total price for house and business and have started the preliminaries for the French purchase.

It hasn't quite sunk in yet.

Nous allons en France!

Plenty of Tongue.

I like a bit of tongue. With tomato sauce. In fact I'm actually eating a tongue sandwich as we speak. But that's not my favourite. In fact it's number three on my list.

My second favourite meat based sandwich is pate with onion. Preferably a smooth Brussels pate. That works so much better against the crunch of the raw onion.

But top of the sandwich pops is corned beef. Preferably with coleslaw but I'm not averse, once again, to a coating of tomato sauce.

It is also number one on the price list too. When did corned beef become so expensive? When I were a lad it was a cheap meat, something you might have because ham or a sliced roast meat was too expensive. And there was nothing better of a Sunday tea time than to open a tin of Fray Bentos corned beef. With it's little key to "unzip" it, and the near lethal edges with which you could slice your fingers as you tried to prise the tin from the meat.

Maybe that's why I like the tomato sauce on it.

Watching Paint Dry

So we got in this morning to discover we had a power cut. No phones. No computer. No heating. No Kettle. No light in the toilet!

And without electricity we discovered we can't do a thing. Absolutely everything depends on being able to access the intranet.

It was our new girl's birthday to day so that was nice. We all had a chat about what we did last night. Then what we might do tonight. Phones were checked. We tidied drawers, handbags, and cleaned desks, phones, computer keyboards.

So now it was 9.30 and so all we could do was sit around and chat, then chat less, then have heated discussions on contentious issues. And go for lunch.

And still no electricity.

More talking, eating of birthday cake, making paper planes, anything to stop the boredom.

At 3.30 we were told the electric wouldn't be back on until 5.15 to 5.30. Home time.

So the team leader rang the boss and asked whether we could shut down for the rest of the day. No.

4.55. The lights came on,the phones reset themselves, the computers fired up, the connection to the internet spluttered slowly into life.

Just time to see how much work we would have to catch up with tomorrow.

For Gods sake, there's tons of it.

Fingers crossed there's no electricity in the morning otherwise it'll be hell.

A turn for the better

We had a new member of staff join us today. Always an interesting event when you are a small team. With only four of us, to have a fifth is quite an intrusion into our cosy little world. The previous person she replaced was, well I don't know what to say really, other than he was very "Russian". Indeed, he was from Russia, well actually he wasn't, he was from one of the ***bekistans, can't remember which, but he had grown up under the yoke of communist rule, and boy, did it show! One colleague, who remembers the Soviet Union, just, and myself, easily, had to try and explain to the youngsters in their 20s just what we meant by "Russian". He was suspicious of any authority, complained vehemently about Britain and it's ways, hated being here, but as we were once forced to point out, as he has been here 22 years, it obviously wasn't so bad he wanted to return to the red side. For instance, he told two of the twenty-somethings in the office that, if his daughters grew up like them, he would be deeply ashamed of them. Not the best way to endear yourself to your colleagues.

Anyway, one day he completely lost it in the office. And I mean completely. Tin foil hat stuff. Convinced because his name appeared on a Council form as one of our landlords agent, the Council and Government would come to get him. That he was being framed by the Landlord. And in addition Head Office were bugging his mobile phone.

From the moment the new girl walked in, smiled and said hello, you could almost hear the sigh of relief. We could be mistaken yet, but the general feeling is she not a complete raving lunatic

Ancient

There are many things which make me feel old. How long I've known certain friends, when I started/left each school. Talking about news events and the 20/30 year olds have no idea what I am talking about such as The USSR and the Iron Curtain. But another one has just hit me.

My Sunday afternoons are often spent listening to Johnnie Walker's Sounds of the 70s.I like JW, always have, possibly because we share the unenviable feat of failing 8 O'levels in one go. But he's just played a record I've always loved, and associate with my teenage years and all that angst and girls etc. So I now know that 43 years ago, yes, a whole 43 years ago, this became number 1.

Without You - Nilsson

Another Hiccough

Yes, I missed the midnight deadline again, but when you've presented your other half with a Valentine present they like, (see below), you never know which way the day may turn. But it didn't turn in the direction of me sitting on the laptop all evening. Then again, not leaving posting until the evening would possibly be a good idea!

Rush Job

Having just got in from work, showered, dressed and having to go out again in ten minutes I need to knock out a quick blog for tonight. So Iam cheating a bit. Whilst I eat what I hope will be a great meal at Chez Lindsayyou can finally get to see the death trap shower rail.

At least the light is IP rated!

Super School

We have been watching Britain's Biggest Primary. The statistics are astonishing. There's plenty tp read in a number of reviews so I won't rehash them here. Quite a few are mentioned in this article.

One fact that came out was that when the present headmaster took over in 1999, 10% of the school had English as a second language, now, only 10% have English as a first language. And that is what mainstream politicians don't grasp. Voters in that area are possibly moving towards UKIP as they feel "swamped" and not part of "a vibrant multicultural society". And if they do move towards UKIP they are "racist" say the middle class of the home counties.

And for those who think teachers have an easy life, you might want to read the bit in the article where the headmaster talks about working 7 day weeks during the summer holidays to get everything ready.

All of Life is There

I have to say that I rather enjoy the world of property management. Like most jobs it can certainly be stressful and after 31 years of not working in an office I'm finding some days feel rather claustrophobic, but I always missed the social side of being in an office environment and to be fair, it's helped by having a small but friendly team to be with now, so it seems like a good decision.

The other thing like most jobs, is that some of the clients you have to deal with are "characters" and some of the situations a little different.

Just today we have had a tenant on the phone in a panic because a light bulb had blown and she wanted us to send out a contractor to change it for her. Now if it was an old lady we might well do, and sometimes if they are very high ceilings and the landlord has provided no ladder we will also do it. This was a perfectly fit 20 something woman who decided that this is a rented flat and she shouldn't have to do any "repair" work. We sadly had to disabuse her of that point of view.

We had a landlord who wants compensation because, despite being told what her electricity bill was going to cost her, despite being given all the bank details she needed to pay it, despite asking us to chase Southern Electric for a hardcopy of the bill for her records which has taken SSE 5 weeks to send, she has decided because it only turned up today and we scanned it in and sent it straight out, it's our fault that the payment is overdue. Because she doesn't think it's her fault, nor Southern Electric's. What makes it worse, is that we don't even manage her property so we shouldn't have been helping her out anyway.

And occasionally you see some building repair that isn't perhaps quite up to standards. Like the one my colleague saw yesterday. The shower curtain rail was a bit wobbly, so they did what anybody might do, they secured it by wrapping wire round it and then securing the other end of the wire to the light bulb holder on the ceiling. I may append the photo to this post tomorrow, because you wouldn't believe anyone could be so stupid.

The X Factor

Not sure how long we have to go now until the election. Certainly less than 100 days. Certainly fed up of it already.

I have no idea who to vote for. At all. I really don't think there is much choice at all. I don't trust any of them to do anything positive at all. I think their only priority is doing something to get them voted in (again) next time. Traditionally I am a Conservative. I was pro Thatcher. But I could no sooner vote for them as fly. I have a mate who has always voted for the Labour party. He can't bring himself to do it.

I can't say I've heard anybody looking forward to the election. Knowing who they will vote for. I would be very worried for Al Murray who is standing against Nigel Farrage. I suspect there is a reasonable chance he could get elected. I can imagine there are a number of people who will think, sod it, he really can't be worse than the rest of them and we might get a laugh. And it's not like he can form a government on his own. So it's a good fun vote with nothing too terrible as a result. Unless perhaps you have tickets for his upcoming tour.

I think one of the reasons for the malaise is that there aren't any politicians with any conviction for what they stand for. How can the Labour party have an education minister called Tristram Hunt. He didn't grow up in an inner city slum did he. When will the conservatives have someone in the Government who has been on benefits. Both main parties are packed to the rafters with politicians with politics degrees but no real life experience any more. Which is why the moment they say something and someone objects they change their minds. Policies haev to be leaked in advance to see if it might be popular with your core voters.

I suspect the outcome of the election will be a particularly low turnout. So I've looked at some of the odds. And I reckon there is a bargain. The odds for a turnout of 40% - 44.99% is 500/1. 45% to 49.99%turnout is 66/1 which is still worth a punt. I think we will have the lowest turnout for an election for a long time.The lowest ever was 1918 at 57% so to lose an extra 10-15% is probably unlikely but last time it was only 65% and that had been rising for the last three elections so I do think there is a chance of the lowest turnout ever.

Still, a fiver at 500/1 would sort out this years summer holiday. And if it happens at least I can guarantee that someone has come out on top.

The Kindest Thing

Last august I bought myself a second car very cheaply on ebay. It was to serve a specific purpose and, by and large, it achieved it. The MOT has run out though so I decided I would put it in for the test because if it didn't need much work I'd have it done and use it a bit longer. I knew it needed a couple of tires and possibly a bulb in the brake lights.

So I waited in line for an hour and fifteen minutes whilst those in front got a pass or a fail and decided what to do. At last, it was out turn. Me and Chobs, for that is his name. First things first, up he goes on the ramp. Right enough, two tyres need a change. On to the tracker rods. Nope they aren't good. The guy looks along the sills prodding them every now and again and then making marks on the bodywork nearby.

At this point the technician called me across.

"It's not good is it" I say.

"I think the kindest thing is to stop this now and bring him down" says he.

But first he showed me the sills, where they were very spongy, by poking his finger at the relevant spot, until his finger went through, and nearly cut the whole thing off. He swore. Prolifically.

And with that, when the bloody flow was stemmed, Chobs was lowered and that was as far as the MOT went. 10 minutes. Condemned.

But it still cost me the full MOT fee though.

Anybody want to buy an uneconomic to repair death trap?

Time Difference

So here I am in San Francisco where it is still Sunday.

Well, maybe not.

What actually happened was that I went up to see my mum and ended up staying overnight without being attached to my computer. Which will teach me to follow in Mashers footsteps and procrastinate. Although to be fair, as being somewhat older than him, he follows in mine.

Profitability

Next week we are off out for a friends birthday meal. I've checked out the menu in advance so I can savour the anticipation.I also checked out the wine list. I was glad to see there were some southern French wines from the area we visit. Then I realised one of them is a wine we know well. Even to the domaine, which means it is a wine we brought back with us. I won't be sorry to drink another bottle but the price might sour the taste a little bit. They are charging £21 per bottle. We bought it for the euro equivalent of £1.79. That gives them a mark up of 1173% assuming they didn't get a better discount than you get for buying just a case.

I think wine in restaurants must be one of the most marked up items there is. I know the food is many times the cost of the raw ingredients but you can accept that you are also paying for the skill of the chef. The cost of cooking and the equipment needs to be taken into account but the only overhead of the wine from supplier to table is transport. Yes,there are profits to make, other overheads to cover,butwine is a little over the odds I would suggest.

Junior Choice.

The Magnificent M and I have spent the last hour trying to find the next couple of things to show her music loving class. They are seven.

Previous favourites have included;

Queen of the Night Aria from The Magic Flute.
The Rite of Spring - Stravinski
Chattanooga Choo Choo - Glenn Miller
The Dying Swan - Whatever ballet, not my thing.

We were thinking something by the Pasadena Roof Orchestra
Some tap dancing by The Nicholas Brothers
Tubby the Tuba
The well known bits of Riverdance.

Any suggestions? Always best when it has film with it. They thought the dancing to Chatanooga was fascinating.

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.