Carols, choirs and railways

Here we are, three days before Christmas and the weather has turned sub-tropical.  This time last year the outside world was a foot deep in snow with chaos on the roads and outdoor retailers making a fortune selling winter weather gear.  This year however the sun is brightly shining, the daffodils are poking through and I am even dressed today minus my trusty vest (which is usually tucked into my pants to prevent a draught up my back).

Of course this crazy mixed up weather sort of confuses some of my favourite Christmas carols, in particular “In The Bleak Midwinter” – no frosty wind making moan here, just the bah humbugs around us who carrying on making moan day in and day out.  None of this “’tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la” for them.

Last week I went to a local school carol service and joined in with the singing and jollities.  The church was filled to capacity and the choir performed as well as any group of festive singers you might see on the television (albeit it a rare event to have any religious programmes screened).  There is always the obligatory loud and off-key member of the congregation singing their heart out, but despite all the smirks and embarrassed looks from others around them they carry on regardless.  This is all part of the Christmas experience and I wouldn’t have it any other way (although why the loud and off-key singers always seem to stand next to me is one of life’s great wonders).  Every December I intend to attend more such events but time always seems to creep away before I have managed to fit any in.

By some miracle the post office have managed to deliver virtually all my post this festive season although last year’s missing items have yet to materialise.  I resorted to writing to the head of the Royal Mail, she conducted an immediate investigation into my issues and I eventually received a reply from my local sorting office.  I had to chuckle as they enclosed a copy of a letter they had written to me three weeks previously which unfortunately had not been delivered..........I despair of the whole thing and can hardly wait for the proposed price increases to come into force next year.

Talking of price increases, the rail costs are about to rocket again.  As a seasoned traveller who has taken trains extensively around Europe and some parts of the USA, I am always impressed with the standard of service, timekeeping and cleanliness of their rolling stock.  The prices are far cheaper than we are forced to pay and the service abroad is far superior.  Where are we going wrong?  Why does it cost so much in this country to travel short distances?  Why are there so many price options instead of just one fare to one place?  I journeyed from Interlaken in Switzerland via Zurich to Milan in Italy for around £9..............no wonder people in the UK choose to drive rather than use public transport (although with the price of fuel rising almost daily, driving is becoming a luxury means of moving around).

I have booked my holiday for 2012 already............the day the snow hit last week seemed like to opportune moment to sort out some sunshine to look forward to.  Viva l’Espaῆa, here I come with my bucket, spade and knotted hanky.

As I conclude my pre-Christmas epistle my thoughts turn to the big day itself and how it all seems to get out of hand each year with people stressing about every last detail and spending money they don’t really have in order to ensure that there is a pile of goodies under the tree.  Far better to treat it as a time to get together with family and friends over the course of a few days, have some food, play games, catch up on each other’s news and generally chill out.  Don’t worry about the presents for the tree..................that is what Santa is for, why else would he load up his sleigh and take to the skies during what is generally a very chilly time of year?

Merry Christmas to all my regular readers, hope the festive season is all you wish it to be.

Trees, snow and wind

December is well and truly upon us now.  My Christmas tree is looking splendid bedecked in twinkling lights and Shaun the Sheep is firmly positioned on the tree top looking down at the chaos around my room during a typical working day with under fives in the house.  The tree buying expedition took me to a nearby town where I looked at the selection on offer in two DIY chains followed by a local garden centre (where I needed to sell my right arm to afford their cut off tree tops).  I finally went to a local Christmas Fayre (pronounced fay-ruh) and bought one from a local entrepreneur.  He even knocked a few quid off as it wasn’t quite as bushy as his others.  It looks good and the cat seems impressed as it smells of the outdoors.  In years gone by I have obtained the festive tree from travelling folk in pub car parks, cash only, no returns, and always stacked on a trailer for an easy escape when tipped off by the lookout.  Okay, so the tree needles drew blood and the wood was, shall we say, “warm”, but I do like a bargain!

The first snowfall of the season has occurred although it didn’t settle too much and was icy and slushy rather than suitable for skiing..................  This does not detract from the fact that snow is not supposed to be anywhere than at the top of a mountain in a foreign country and most certainly not within a 400 mile radius of me thank you very much.

My area is due to have around four inches of snow tonight which does not bode well for the busy weekend I have planned.  Regular readers will know how once the snow hits the hill I live on that it is near impossible to get the car off the drive and head out anywhere.  At this rate I will be hitching a lift with Santa just to see sights other than a snow covered town.  The only benefit the white stuff will have is in lighting up the streets where the council have turned off the streetlamps this year.

I was caught out again the other afternoon in gale force winds which just about blew my eyelashes inside out.  We are becoming more used to extremes of weather in the UK and these strong winds, although not quite along the lines of the hurricanes and tornadoes suffered in other places around the world, are enough to cause travel delays, damage to buildings and general mayhem.  Those of us with unruly hair do not relish these 65mph gusts...............I returned from the school run looking like Worzel Gummidge’s elderly aunt.  Not a good look.

Festive lighting, business cards and Dorothy

With December upon us there are many festive lights and assorted garden statues appearing locally, Christmas trees are being decorated and the town centre is bedecked in lights attached to the streetlights (funny how they can find money for them but not for lighting to keep us all safe).  The local Round Table started their charity collections last week and I was delighted to see Santa on his float travelling past my house waving frantically at all the householders.  I was rather excited by this and gladly dropped all my loose change into the collection pots.

However, the very same evening saw the start of the season where the youth element find it funny to knock on the door and sprint over the totally dark field opposite in the hope that they won’t be caught.  The local police want to be informed of these occurrences so I duly rang it in and within minutes there was a patrol car outside and the officers went to have a look for the perpetrators.  No luck unfortunately but they did pop in to let me know what they are doing about antisocial behaviour and left a business card with contact details on.  I used this opportunity launch into a list of my annoyances and concerns including the irresponsible drivers who use the wrong side of the road outside my house, the man who let his young child steer his car along the road...............and so it went on.  I did mention that perhaps land mines along the driveway might be a deterrent and I wasn’t told that I couldn’t implement this strategy...............  The officers were receptive to my concerns and bravely revisited me two days later with another business card with a job number on (they also quoted a list of the calls I have made this year to the control centre......).  I am hoping to collect a full deck of these cards and am awaiting a Christmas card and invitation to their staff dance.

Talking of Christmas cards, I opt to make my own these days as the shop bought ones are either boring, unrelated to Christmas or just downright obscene.  I do not need to see a picture of Santa using a chimney as a toilet thank you very much, nor do I wish to run the risk of buying cards the same as everyone else.  The real meaning of Christmas has been buried in the commercialism that now surrounds the day, nativity plays are being replaced with ‘school productions’ and decorative street lighting has been renamed ‘festival lighting’ so as not to offend people from other faiths.  In my experience, people from all faiths do something to mark Christmas in the same way that non-Hindus celebrate Diwali with fireworks and Indian food.  Christian religious programmes whether on the television or radio are virtually non-existent...............is it any wonder that a whole generation of children is growing up thinking that Jesus is a character from EastEnders and the three wise men present the Formula One coverage on BBC1?

With Christmas television schedules usually showing a stack of timeless classics such as Mary Poppins, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, The Sound of Music and so on I always have the urge to sing along to the cheery songs, act out one or two of the characters and generally join in.  One of my favourite films is the Wizard of Oz (although I was in my late thirties before I realised the characters actually played two roles in the film), however the way the gale force winds have been battering the country this week I actually feel like I am on the film set with the leaves swirling about and houses taking off...............well perhaps not that bit, but it is windy enough for the odd shed or two to be relocated into another garden.  I can just see myself as Dorothy, I know all her lines, I could put up with wearing the gingham dress (for a reasonable fee) and I have bizarre dreams every night (such as the baboons that live happily in my loft side by side with a group of owls) – I am made for the part.

Can’t stop, need to polish up my red shoes for when Hollywood comes calling.

BBC, queuing and champagne amusement

Regular readers will know of my love for motor sport and how the British Grand Prix is on my planner year after year with tickets bought for the following year around four hours after the current race has finished.  The television coverage over the years has been variable with advert breaks during ITV’s contract and lots of pre-race chat from the three stooges over the past few years when the BBC screened the events.  Incidentally, did you know David Coulthard moisturises his face in the pit lane prior to being filmed (I have photos of this!)?  Anyway, I digress...........from 2012 the BBC have sold out half the races to Sky therefore we loyal viewers on terrestrial television will only be able to watch 10 races live with highlights of the others later in the day (by which time the results will have been bandied about and there will be no surprises).  Bizarrely the first two races of the season fall into the highlights category which seems strange as certainly the Australian GP is always a big event by virtue of kicking off the season.  I got rid of Sky some time ago as there is little point in paying for far too many repeat and frankly crap channels showing everything from football matches in the 1970’s to shows demonstrating how to cover a loo roll in glitter.

I am left with two choices, either to put up with the BBC’s lack of coverage (which of course as a television licence payer I had expected to be able to watch all races live) or re-subscribe to Sky at an extortionate rate for their sports channel.  A third option of course would be to follow the racing around the world but unless I win a substantial amount on the Lotto this will remain a dream (perhaps I could write to McLaren and say I should travel with them based on the amount of money I have spent on their merchandise over the past few years?  Hmmm, there’s a thought).  Whichever option I decide upon will not be a satisfactory result.  What amazed me was the BBC claimed they wanted to reduce the F1 coverage to concentrate on other major sporting events such as the 2012 Olympics..............on looking at the F1 and Olympic calendars, only one F1 race is during the Olympics as August is the drivers rest month.  You couldn’t make it up.

Perhaps the TV licence should be based on only paying for what you actually watch?  In that case I would only be paying for the motor sport as I cannot think of anything else I actually watch on the BBC.

The Christmas shopping silly season is in full swing and I have been on an expedition with my Mum to try and make some headway with the remaining gifts I need to buy.  We went to a local shopping village where despite there being around one hundred outlets to choose from, there was only one shop that had anything close to what was on the list.  We had more success on the way home when we called into a couple of other shops and I managed to choose two of my own gifts!  I love the element of surprise.  Highlight of the day was spotting a group of oriental folk at the village scurrying towards the shoe shops with large, empty suitcases to carry their goodies home in.  Having bumped into a friend who is from the local Exclusive Brethren community and hearing that they don’t celebrate Christmas (they have a family time week instead) I can see the sense behind belonging to an alternative branch of religion................no queues, no stress about getting the right gifts for the right people, a huge saving on postage...............the list goes on.  Having said that, I would miss the annual event of watching my Mum trying to make custard on Christmas Day after downing a couple of glasses of champagne.  Perhaps I will stick to tradition and join the queues a little earlier next year.  Ho, ho, ho!

Refits, odd English and Santa

My local supermarket has been refitted and a map is now needed to find everyday items as the whole layout has changed completely.  Although the store is now lighter and brighter, some of the product ranges have been decreased (such as CD’s), others have been merged with totally unrelated products and the rest are much the same.  What has changed though is some of the prices.  Bags of apples have risen by 30p this week, pasta sauce has gone up by 10p and so on and so forth.  One area of concern is the help yourself coffee machine which has appeared.  How long will it be before a child is scalded when bumping into a cup carrier, or else someone slips on spilled coffee in the aisles?  Not sure this has been thought out very thoroughly.  The fuel station also had a makeover and (surprise surprise) the price per litre increased by 2p.  I am sure most of us would rather have kept the old style store and the old prices as food is expensive enough without us having to pay for the updated image.  I can hardly wait until the local vandals realise that the new trolley parks are made from wood...............bonfire night all year round methinks.

I was invited to undergo a mammogram as part of a scheme to reduce the age when women are first offered one so I turned up at the appointed time unsure what to expect.  The rather brusque woman checked my details and ushered me into a teeny tiny changing cubicle where I was instructed to strip to the waist then put my coat back on to keep warm.  Okay then, managed that, although the limited space available required me to sit down during the process.  I am glad I am not one of Europe’s fattest women (as we British women have been classified) otherwise I would have had to use the corridor.  Anyway, I then moved through to the machine room for the big event........”Right arm up, left arm at your side, just going to squash you and compress.......it might feel uncomfortable for a moment............”.  Uncomfortable?????  Uncomfortable?????  She was having a laugh................  Imagine if you will, being stuck in the elevator doors by your most sensitive nether regions just as the elevator starts to, well, elevate and you will get the idea.  Four times this delightful experience happened and each time was more painful than the last – the compressions were so tight that the veins in the back of my hands stood out.   Somehow I think the lady had previously taken up pottery and mistook my boobs for clay that needed to be pummelled into shape.  I jokingly said I would await the bruises appearing only to be told that doesn’t happen.  She has obviously not come across me before as I do bruise easily and there is a definite blue blob on view now.  The results will be sent in the post within three weeks unless they need to re-do it in which case they will telephone me.  I sincerely hope today’s pictures will be sufficient and they won’t need to see me again for another three years (at which point I will remember to swallow two painkillers before setting out).

Progressive English...............what is all that about then?  Apparently text talk and any old style of writing are now deemed to be acceptable at exam level.  Spelling tests are a thing of the past in most schools but apparently being able to spell is no longer a requirement for English papers.  For goodness sake.................these children will have to enter the workplace at some stage – what sort of image will they be presenting when filling in job applications?  I can just imagine the entry for ‘previous experience’.........”Well I wuz wkg in the pub innit themz puntas lvd me like, n u no wot I mean like, so I’mz the 1 wot you need 4 the job innit”.  It doesn’t bear thinking about really.

Tomorrow sees the start of December and I can open the first door on my advent calendar.  This year I have one which is a tall townhouse with various windows to count down the days until Santa pays a visit (that is, if I actually decide what I would like him to bring).  No chocolate one for me........I go with the traditional style, although as mine does not have any relevance to the nativity I am telling people it is in fact the headquarters of the Christian movement.  It is a pretty cool design and certainly a lot less fiddly than the one from last year which involved building a house every day to add to a village scene.  Just the question of what I would like Santa to shop for........at this rate the only thing he will be wrapping, labelling and  depositing under the tree for me is a small bag of reindeer poo.  I can almost hear his hearty “Ho, Ho, Ho” from here.

Bad drivers, those above the law and chav TV

I am constantly amazed at the bad driving I witness on a daily basis.  I do not claim to be faultless myself on the road and will also admit to having parked on yellow lines on occasion, however.........having nearly been wiped out last week by a bus driver I cannot comprehend how some people have actually got away with it for so long.  This particular bus driver chose not to use a roundabout, but instead drove straight over it diagonally, and furthermore took it upon himself to rewrite the right of way rules (me being on his right).  He eventually stopped his charabanc literally a whisker away from the entire side of my car – I am just glad I was stationery at the time otherwise the outcome could have been so much worse.  Needless to say I contacted his company and reported the incident, although a week later and I have yet to receive a follow up call or letter.

Later the same evening and along the same stretch of road, some hoodlum had the bright idea of shining a laser pen at me as I approached.  Fortunately the beam bounced off the floor into my face so reduced the effect a little.  I reported this to the local police and cannot fault their response; they even telephoned me first thing the following morning to check my vision was not affected.

Outside my house there is a traffic island and a bend in the road designed to slow down traffic.  However, all day long people find it acceptable to drive on the wrong side of the road to save a nanosecond of time.  It is an accident waiting to happen and is not confined to local residents but also delivery drivers, parcel trucks, post office vans and even the refuse collectors.  Stop it you eejits, you are out of order.

By far the worst type of bad practice on the roads that I encounter every time I do the school run is parents who don’t give a toss about their children’s safety.  By this I mean those parents who either think it is perfectly okay to let their youngsters travel unrestrained in the car, or worse still, standing up between the front seats.  For goodness sake, back in the 1970’s this was common practice as safety standards were non-existent, but today not only are we aware of the risks it is also AGAINST THE LAW.  School car parks are not exempt from bad driving either.  I recall an incident a couple of years ago where I reversed out of a parking spot in a local school.  I had checked my mirrors to make sure the area was clear and was reversing slowly when.............BANG!  My rear bumper made contact with the bull bars on a Range Rover.  I checked the (securely strapped in) children in my car were alright then got out to see if there was any damage.  Considering I was travelling slowly I still ended up with a large dent in the car due to the bull bars and the speed at which the woman had appeared.  The crowning moment was her reaction “You made me call the wrong number........” Errrrmm hello you ignorant woman, it is against the law to use the phone when travelling.  Why do some people believe they are above the law?

I caught an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show recently..........or Chav TV as it should be known.  I quite like JK and what he tries to do for folk but where on earth does he get his guests from?  Sadly the clientele show all that is bad in Britain today and quite frankly social services should be on standby to place the children from these dregs of society into loving homes.  The amount of young women who appear on the show for DNA testing on their children to prove paternity is shocking.  There are often three or four potential fathers................it appears to be normal practice.  I know JK is getting well paid for his show, but listening to the excuses, lies and general nonsense spouting forth from the mouths of the participants must be depressing after a while.  The shouting and bad attitude between the guests makes Eastenders appear to be full of happy-go-lucky families.  Is Britain the only nation to have such a pool of degenerates or is it just that we like to wash our dirty tracksuits in public?

More misinformation, x-rays and differences

Following on from the cancellation of my appointment by British Gas and their subsequent text confirming the same appointment seven hours after it should have happened (are you keeping up?), I received two emails three days after the cancelled date confirming they would be attending at the original time.....................absolutely brilliant.  Gawd ‘elp them guv’nor they can’t help it.  Even more bizarrely I then received a telephone call a few days later to say the engineer would be calling that afternoon.  The boiler has now been serviced and all the radiators are working, even the one in the hallway which has not had any heat in it for three years.  Excellent location of this one.............right by the front door so I can now keep callers warm when they are outside on the step.

Perhaps they are in league with the post office as yet again the deliveries in my area have become sporadic.  A friend spoke to the local sorting office in town last week as she was urgently awaiting some parcels containing essential products for her business only to be told there were 250 parcels awaiting sorting but no staff to do it!  So many complaints were subsequently received that there was a special parcel delivery service on Sunday morning.  None of this bodes well for the Christmas chaos.

The whole world has gone strange as I received a text last Friday reminding me of a GP’s appointment for the following day.  This would have been really helpful if I had actually made an appointment in the first place.  I called the surgery and discovered the appointment was with a different GP to my own and nobody could tell me who had made the booking.  Could be a case of mistaken identity I suppose, although the address they quoted was mine.  Reminds me of some years ago when I was having a series of appointments at a hospital local to where I was living.  I had been several times, seen seven different consultants and been given seven different diagnoses.  I was sent for a knee x-ray and after waiting well after the appointed time I was told I could go as they had my film in the file.  Hmmmmm.................okay then, can I just have a look as I have not had the x-ray yet?  Turned out they had put a knee x-ray in my file for someone with the same date of birth as me but with a different name and their left knee had been x-rayed whereas I was having my right one done.  You couldn’t make it up.

Last week I was at the wedding of my godson and his new wife.  It was a great day out and provided an opportunity to have a good chat to people I had not seen for a while.  The registrar caused some amusement when he got the bride’s name wrong several times as it had been misspelt on his order of service.  Eventually all was rectified and the happy couple completed their vows, signed the register and posed for their photos.  I do feel I have aged a lot though as it cannot be possible that the little chap I used to take to the safari park is all grown up and married with a little girl of his own.  Where have the years gone?

I read a book over the weekend written by a friend of almost thirty years standing which tells her life story from childhood until the present day.  Nothing unusual in this you might think, however my friend was born in the wrong body and has undergone gender reassignment surgery to correct this and enable her to live the rest of her life as she knows she should.  It has not been an easy process as she had to tell her family and friends and deal with the fallout from that.  Sadly people who are ‘different’ in any way are still ridiculed, whether their ‘difference’ is race, religion, sexuality, disability, hair colour.............the list goes on and on.  Before making fun of people or being downright rude and insulting to them, we should all take a look in the mirror and check out our own imperfections.  What gives anyone the right to judge themselves better than someone else?  Everyone should be respected for who they are and not what they look like.  We should embrace people’s ‘differences’ and learn from each other.  Perhaps then the world would be a more harmonious and peaceful place in which to live.

Engineers, incompetence and flaming torches

How I love big industries and their cracking service...................not.  I recently booked my annual boiler service with British Gas and was pleased to get a two hour slot which fitted in well with half term so I would definitely be at home instead of nipping out on school runs.  However, the night before the visit I was telephoned by someone from the service centre.........

Me:	“Hello”
British Gas	“Oh hello, you have a boiler service booked for tomorrow”
Me	“Yes, that’s right, between 8 and 10 in the morning”
British Gas	“Ah well we have cancelled it”
Me	“Pardon? You have cancelled it? Why?”
British Gas	“We don’t have any engineers working in your area.................”
Me	“Well that isn’t good enough, I booked this appointment to fit in with my complicated weekly schedule and at the end of the day I pay you a monthly fee for a service agreement which gives me priority for service calls”
British Gas	“As I said, there are no engineers so, well, I can book you in again for the 28th between 8 and 10”
Me	“Oh great, I will be on a school run for the first half hour of that slot and I can guarantee the chap will arrive when I am out with it being the first job of the day”
British Gas	“I can ask the engineer to call you on your home number to let you know he is on the way”
Me	“Hmmm that will be useful then as I have just said I will very likely be out.  He will need to ring my mobile number instead.  You can expect a letter in the post about this as it is not the first time I have been messed around by British Gas.  Can you also check which engineer you are sending as there are several I will not have over the step – you have the list”
British Gas	“Okay then, I will make a note of that and the engineer will see you on the 28th, goodbye”

Aaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhh!  Why are people SO incompetent?  To put the top hat on it, I received a text from British Gas seven hours after my original appointment time confirming my appointment for that day.  You couldn’t make it up.

Just been looking at the route for the 2012 Olympic Torch travels with the accompanying statement “95% of UK will be within 10 miles of Olympic Torch Route”.  Well unless the vast majority of people are planning on moving house before then, this statement is incorrect.  Northamptonshire where I live is totally bypassed with nearest ‘torch point’ being in Oxford some 30 plus miles away.  Looking at the Scottish leg of the route it appears no towns other than the major cities exist.  On a more informative note though, by giving the dates of when and where the torch is stopping off this enables people to plan their free time to either bowl up and view the glorified birthday candle or alternatively avoid places like the plague as the hotel, food and tourist costs will undoubtedly rocket over the period.  Well it is rip off Britain after all.  I hope on 5^th July when the flame visits the beach huts at Southwold that care is taken by the carrier not to stand too close to the structures otherwise there may be little to observe the following day other than a pile of ashes.

Halloween, fireworks and the big freeze

Halloween has been and gone for another year and I must admit to being pleasantly surprised at the effort put into costumes worn by the many groups of small folk who banged on the door.  Ghosts, witches, monsters of various varieties and other spooky offerings were most welcome on an unusually warm evening.  All the children were polite and took the packs of chewy jelly sweets on offer (I had already removed the lollies and Parma violets for my own consumption) then went on their way to their next port of call.  The local dentists must have been rubbing their hands in glee and planning their next Caribbean cruise.  What a shame there was an older group of lads going around egging the revellers and any houses that had their lights off..............there is always someone willing to spoil it for others.  I am guessing they were also responsible for the trail of pumpkin innards along the main road the following morning.  I didn’t dress up for the occasion – I felt the sight of me opening the door dressed in my Lycra in readiness for a Zumba class was scary enough.

My Dad always enjoys Halloween as he believes it is his own special event with the whole world saying “Hello Ian” all day..............

The next couple of weeks are jam packed with events on the planner starting with Bonfire Night this weekend involving a street party affair in my parents close.  During past years this has been very successful and a good way of socialising with the neighbours who live further up and are only on waving terms for the rest of the year.  There is a barbecue, bonfire and mega fireworks so plenty of oooooh and aaaaaah viewing opportunities.

I read today that the weather is due to change within the next two weeks with temperatures down to minus fifteen degrees and a Siberian freeze is on the way.  By Christmas it could be as low as minus 20.  Okay, well the forecasters are reliable in getting it wrong more often than right so I won’t be getting my muffler and yeti boots out just yet..................however we have to expect colder weather as it is after all nearly winter.  Perhaps these reports are just to put the fear of all things holy into everyone but if it encourages the local councils to sort out their supplies of grit in time then perhaps it is not a bad thing.  Who knows, after the big freeze season is over and done the council might see fit to repair the pot holes that have been around since 2009, although I expect they will still be trying save money and will add the holes to the ‘savings’ made by switching off the street lights.  The idea of the Government putting a hold on council tax increases for a couple of years is not such a good idea after all really as it has given the local authority the freedom to make these wonderful decisions without any thought or consideration to the taxpaying public.  The local play park has a zebra crossing on the very busy main road adjacent to it and yes, you have guessed it, the lights have been switched off by the crossing.  The dim light given off by the belisha beacons is not enough to see anyone in dark clothing using the crossing at dusk or later.  It is a disaster waiting to happen.

Various celebrities have recently inflicted quirky names on their offspring and unfortunately this trend is becoming more and more rife within so-called normal everyday folk.  Do these people never think long term about what they are doing?  Obviously not.  At some stage these little souls will be grown up and have to enter the workplace, expect to be taken seriously and command an air of authority.  Sadly they are more likely to be a source of ridicule amongst their peers throughout their school days and have low self esteem.

Must sign off here as I need to take little Fireplace-Woodchip to playgroup.

Cards, Christmas and cocktail sticks

Here we are the week before Halloween and unbelievably there is a card shop (one of the big chains) in a local main town with their Christmas cards on sale.  What is the problem with that?  Nothing........................what is a problem is the Easter cards that are for sale alongside them.  In the name of all things holy (a category which I guess Christmas and Easter fall into) what is that all about?

Every so often I revert to reading children’s books for a bit of nostalgia and have just worked my way through the boxed sets of ‘Malory Towers’ and ‘St Clare’s’ stories about life in girls boarding schools.  As a child I was rather envious of my friend Caroline who had all these books and several shelves of other great titles – her father worked for the publishing company involved in producing them so naturally she had a full collection of exciting books.  Anyway, I was really looking forward to some wonderful tales but soon realised Enid Blyton had her put her own twist on the goings on in such schools.  The ways in which the teachers speak to (and about) the girls is shocking and the amount of bullying between the pupils is equally repulsive.  Oh what a shame these schools were not subjected to the rules and regulations of Ofsted................they would have been closed down and never allowed to re-open.  They make the inner city schools of today who are operating on ‘special measures’ look like Eton.  Not only that, but Enid’s plot writing was revealed as rather limited with virtually identical situations and characters in the two series of books.  Oh well, never mind, at last I have finally got around to reading them!

The clocks go back this weekend which has brought the usual doom and gloom response from my Dad...............”the dark nights are a waste of time, you can’t do anything, it is cold and miserable”.  This is followed closely by “when I was a boy we had double summer time and it was daylight until 11 o’clock every night”.  Anyone would think that during the long summer evenings he is out in the garden until nightfall, when in reality he is generally to be found settled down in his armchair hiding behind the Daily Telegraph marking up items for my Mum to read later (that is of course when he is not reading out the entire paper to her whilst she is trying to watch her soap operas).  I have to agree though that the hour going back is rubbish and I am all for abolishing it in favour of adopting European time (and European chocolate cake, but that is another story).

Christmas shopping is due to start this weekend to get ahead of the total madness of the last five weeks leading up to the big day.  My list is prepared on a spreadsheet as usual so hopefully a few bargains around the shops will leap into my trolley, self wrap, and deliver themselves to Lapland to Santa can pop them on his sleigh in good time for dropping them down the relevant chimneys.  I might include a bag of homemade biscuits for the portly chap in a red suit as he must get peckish on his round the world expedition.

Talking of which, my brother and his girlfriend are bringing their holiday snaps for viewing on Sunday.  Apparently they took around 200 in the end which is about 190 more than they usually take but nowhere near the amount I end up with.  Perhaps I should bowl up with mine plus accompanying video, lock the door and insist they watch them too.  Copious amounts of black coffee and Red Bull should keep them awake.  Failing that I will have to keep poking their legs with cocktail sticks.

Airports, television crews and tragedies

As the final of the Rugby World Cup took place over the weekend, it was suggested to me that as the New Zealand squad perform the Haka prior to kick off then perhaps the English team ought to show off our national tradition...............Morris Dancing.  Good idea!  Why not expand the theme further?  The French could perform the Can-Can; Scottish players might like to show their prowess at sword dancing; the Irish could line up for a quick Riverdance; the Aussies might like to give us a chorus of Waltzing Matilda complete with actions..................oh the possibilities are endless.  Of course it could all be taken a degree further with each team providing traditional culinary fare for the opposition pre-match.  Not sure how playing on a gut full of escargot and frogs legs would go down with the players though.  Be worth a try (pardon the pun) just to see what happens.

My brother and his girlfriend returned from their holiday to Australia and the Far East at the weekend.  Being the wonderful sibling that I am, I was out of the house at 05:20 to head on down to Heathrow (God’s hell hole) to pick them up.  On arriving at the meeting area in terminal 3 I spotted a film chap from Sky Sports with his camera trained on the folks emerging bleary eyed from their overnight flights.  Ah ha...........he is obviously there for the Welsh rugby team coming home from New Zealand I thought.  I managed to get a prime position in front of his camera and waited for the homecoming fourth-placed chunky chaps to head on through the doors.  Eventually, various members of the team appeared kitted out in team polo shirts..............yay!  I took a few pictures on my BlackBerry (not that I recognised any of the players) but was a little bewildered at the total lack of fans awaiting their heroes’ arrival.  Amidst this excitement appeared my brother and his girlfriend, smiling as they spotted the laminated sign bearing their names and pictures of the cities they had visited.  It turned out they had been on the same flight as the rugby folk and it was not the Welsh RFU team, but a Rugby League team (I have no idea which one) instead.  The last time I ran into anyone famous (I use the term loosely here) at the airport was on another occasion when I was picking said sibling up (there is a theme developing here) and Black Lace wandered past.  Fortunately there was no chorus of Agadoo coming from them otherwise I might have felt compelled to deny my own nationality in embarrassment.

My brother did make me chuckle when he said the baggage carousel had a huge crate travelling around which belonged to the rugby team.  It was clearly marked up with its contents “Crutches and Neck Braces”.................excellent!

Back to reality and the past week has seen the deaths of two talented figures in motorsport.  The first was the IndyCar driver Dan Wheldon who was caught up in a multi car accident at the Las Vegas circuit and had his car flip over then hit the barrier.  The second took place at Sepang in Malaysia when MotoGP star Marco Simoncelli crashed on lap two of the motorbike GP and suffered fatal injuries.  Whilst both these incidents are tragic and the loss of young lives is never good, they both died whilst doing the job they loved and had chosen to do.  The big money to be made in motorsport is undoubtedly an attraction, but all the drivers and riders have the burning ambition to be the best they can and win the trophies regardless of remuneration.  I only hope I do not have to comment after the next F1 race on a similar tragedy.  R.I.P. Dan and Marco, your passion for your chosen sports will be missed as much as your vibrant personalities.

Paintings, pooches and photographs

Unbelievably I have had yet another poorly sighted individual trying to sell me their wares on the doorstep.  This time a youngish foreign lass had a stack of paintings with her and in broken English tried to start her sales pitch.  Unlucky.................I pointed at the sign, told her I don’t buy at the door and she slung her hook (well actually she slung her paintings over her shoulder) and departed.  Looks like I will have to install a row of land mines to deter further intrusions.

Glad to see that despite the recent articles in the media exposing Tesco for advertising bargains that do not really exist, things have not changed.  I bought a brand of kitchen rolls there today for £1.86 in the regular aisle, great, fairly cheap for something that in the end finds its way to the bin.  However, on walking around to the ‘promotions’ they had the same item for the bargain price of £2.00............... When I went to the checkout the higher price scanned.  Needless to say I brought this to the attention of the staff and the price was amended.  It is also cheaper to buy two 24 packs of Weetabix than to buy a 48 pack one............... Looks like I will start shopping elsewhere soon.  Upon returning to the same store two days later I noticed all the kitchen rolls were priced at £2.00 – what a surprise................

This week I watched a television programme that highlighted how people in China ‘love’ their dogs.  This manifests itself in taking the poor mutts to specialist ‘poodle parlours’ to have them clipped, and dyed to make them appear as various other animals such as tigers, pandas and cows.  There was one poor creature that had been sprayed to look like it was wearing a bikini and another who was coloured up as Superman.  Manicures complete with nail varnish were being carried out on the dogs too.  The whole thing made the way pooches are pampered in the USA look totally normal.

Cadbury’s crème eggs are in the shops already, however this time the early batch is called ‘Screme Eggs’ and aimed at the Halloween market.  The only difference is the yellow yolk is now green; the taste is just the same as the originals.  True to form I expect the ‘real’ crème eggs to be in the shops the week before Christmas, at which point I will feel obliged to carry out a taste test.  I am sure there is a law that these tasty morsels have to be eaten three at a time.

My parents’ conservatory roof has become covered in mildew and general grime over the past couple of years so off I went with the power washer to blast away the offending dirt.  Most of the roof was easy to access whilst balancing on the top platform of a step ladder and by using a combination of brushes, water and cloths I managed to achieve a good result.  To reach the trickier bits I had to hang out of an upstairs window with my parents holding onto my legs.............rather in keeping with the type of health and safety precautions I have seen in mainland Europe.  The guttering around the structure was clogged up with leaves and bread deposited by the birds, along with standing water which cannot drain away effectively due to the poor installation of the gutters and no downward slope towards the drainpipe.  Anyhow, I decided the best course of action would be to remove as much of the water as possible so I could locate the leaves more easily.  I asked my Mum for a scoop to make the job easier (fully expecting a yogurt pot or similar to be produced)..........she returned with an ice cream scoop.  There really is no hope for some people.

My brother and his girlfriend are currently holidaying in Australia with a bit of Hong Kong and Singapore thrown in for good measure.  They have been having a great time by all accounts with good weather and plenty of new experiences.  During a telephone call to my parents the other day he mentioned he had taken “quite a few” photos of this trip of a lifetime..............around one hundred.  Good grief, have I not taught him anything?  One hundred is only a couple of day’s worth in my world.  How can anyone travel all that way and only take a few photos?  Bonkers if you ask me.  Needs his bumps feeling.

Fish, teeth and ghouls

Yet another person unable to understand the yellow “please do not bother knocking to try and sell me your wares as I definitely do not buy at the door” sticker.  This time it was the fishmonger asking if he could interest me in placing an order for a load of dead sea creatures.  Err, no thank you very much.  This sticker obviously needs to be placed higher up – I guess alongside the doorbell would be good.  Perhaps I can purchase a device (from a shop, not at the door, obviously) that detects peddlers on my doorstep and bites their hand as soon as they press the doorbell.  Either that or a boxing glove that whizzes out and hits them on the nose.  I will add these goodies to my list for Father Christmas (they should fit easily on his sleigh).

The fine weather has all but vanished now, the 80 degree temperature has given way to strong winds with snow forecast on higher ground over the next few days.  Whenever I have cause to venture outside I return wearing hair that Worzel Gummidge would be proud to call his own.  If only I had his fine dress sense my life would be complete.

My long awaited visit to yet another dentist has now happened.  To recap, I changed dental practices again earlier in the year and the dentist I was allocated subsequently left.  I was then transferred to another one but this was then amended by the practice to a new lady.  Anyhow, off I went with little hope of satisfaction, but....................I was very pleasantly surprised!  This dentist looked at the x-rays taken by he-who-shall-remain-nameless, had a good old poke around then said all that needs sorting is a filling in my one remaining wisdom tooth and a replacement for the temporary filling that fell out (after three years, so it wasn’t really much of a temporary one after all)....................I certainly do not need the fistful of crowns that I had originally been told. Result!  I made the appointment for the repairs on the way out but now need to re-book as I managed to coincide it with my godson’s wedding day.............bit of a senior moment going on there.

Last week I was incensed to read postings on a local page of a popular social networking site concerning the fatality of someone in town.  The circumstances were tragic enough but for people to be posting their own version of the situation and speculating as to what had happened was insensitive, cruel and downright unnecessary.  These ghouls might just have well posted the name of the person along with a photo of proceedings – that was about all they left out of their comments.  The postings started a very short time after the event had happened and I was so angry on the family’s behalf that I changed my status on the site to reflect this.  Within a few minutes the original messages had been deleted and I received several comments and private emails from people totally agreeing with what I had said.  Social networking sites are an excellent way of keeping in contact with people and passing relevant information around, but to make a ‘thread’ for people to add to concerning someone’s tragedy is totally inappropriate.  The messages had been posted so quickly that there was no guarantee that the family concerned had even been advised.  Gossiping is simply not acceptable and I can only hope that the family did not read any of the items on view to the while population of the town.

Dairy products, giraffes and yellow labels

Another day and another bizarre (and obviously ignorant) caller at the door.  On hearing the doorbell I opened the door and was greeted by a middle aged chap (I should know what one looks like as he was the same sort of age as me)................the conversation went like this.

Chap	“Hello, I’m helping my friend Martin the milkman who delivers to your neighbours and I am trying to get some more customers for him”
Me	“Nobody has milk delivered along here”
Chap	“Yes they do, the people at number 21 have a delivery”
Me	“No they don’t as the lady works in Tesco and buys it from there.  Anyway, ( as I point and waggle my finger at the door) this sticker says I do not buy at the door so you shouldn’t have knocked”
Chap	“I didn’t see that (it is bright yellow, has the local Police emblem and details on and is positioned on the front door), but would you like to order a delivery?”
Me	“No, I don’t have milk”
Chap	“Oh right, do you have soya then?”
Me	“No, I told you I don’t have milk”
Chap	“How about juices?  I can do you a full range”
Me	“No, nothing like that, I am not interested and I don’t buy at the door as you know”
Chap	“Okay then, how about yogurts or cheese?”
Me	“No.  Bye now” (followed by loud bang as I closed the door)

Of course on reflection I should have sent him packing with directions to the local guide dog centre as his eyesight is obviously failing, this being confirmed by his inability to see a bright yellow sign in clear daylight.  I love the way callers claim not to see the sign and also lie about what my neighbours may or may not have delivered.  The solution is simple...............I need to erect a tower over the front door with a supply of grand pianos to be dropped one at a time on these people.

I am persevering with the Zumba class once a week in an effort to tone up a bit and have a laugh at the same time.  However hard I try to keep up with the movements and routines, I always end up performing with all the grace of a new born giraffe trying to stand for the first time and a windmill with sails all going in different directions.  Never mind though, I have a fun hour and it is a fiver well spent (plus I have bought the right clothing to wear so I need to get the value out of it).

My latest gripe with one of the ‘big four’ supermarkets is their so called ‘special offers’ which are not all they seem.  Bright yellow labels on the pricing strip attract the attention of shoppers and lead them to believe the product they are popping into their trolley is a bargain.  I am building up quite a collection of photos showing the pricing labels with offers such as “£1.5o or two for £3.00” (for cheese) or “£1.00 or five for £5.00” (pre-packed ham)............... You see what I mean?  This practice has apparently been brought to the attention of the media and several newspapers have printed relevant articles.  Unfortunately the supermarket gurus appear not to read the newspapers they sell.