Huge clothing, chicks and odd language

Huge clothing, chicks and odd language

Another week and another marvellous internet offer.  This time I have been emailed by a company specialising in clothing for size 18 to 32.  Hello????  Have you actually done any research?  Obviously not.  Now then, I realise that my love for chocolate could be my downfall in clothing choices, however I currently have size 10 and size 12 skinny jeans, neither of which will stay up without a belt.  The situation is so bad that I refer to them as my self lowering trousers.  This first came to light last year at Malaga airport................have you ever tried pulling a suitcase, carrying a folder of travel documents, wearing a backpack and trying to hold your trousers up at the same time?  Why wasn’t I born an octopus?

Apparently there is a tennis thing going on in London this fortnight which gives rise to overpriced strawberries and cream, queuing all night on the pavement, the choice between sunstroke or getting soaked through and endless neck movements left and right (not a good idea for a neck like mine that is permanently in spasm).  Having been made to play this bat and ball nonsense whilst at school, I have developed a total aversion to it and certainly cannot see the attraction for camping out on a wobbly flagstone all night in order to get to the front of the line.

I have house martins nesting on the front of my house.  That is what summer is all about!  There are at least three chicks and the sound of them all chattering away makes me smile.  So what if they poo in a large pile directly under the nest.........that is just what the Tudors used to do out of the window only in greater quantities.

Update on the streetlight situation........the council have turned them off outside a school.  Have these people ever visited planet earth?  There is no reduction in the council tax for this lack of provision – surely this is obtaining money under false pretences?  Perhaps it could be construed as theft?  I will have to look into the legal implications of it all.  Find me a loophole and I will step through it.

The next holiday has been booked!  The original plan was to tour around Italy by train but this has morphed into driving around Slovenia with the opportunity to cross the borders into neighbouring countries.  The language looks interesting..................fortunately the Slovenes tend to be multilingual which is just as well.  They also have pizza restaurants so I won’t starve.

This is all.

Darkness, regulations and total stupidity

Darkness, regulations and total stupidity

My local authority need to save money.  Ah, by what means shall they do this?  Cut bonuses for higher paid staff?  No.  Reduce bin collections to monthly instead of fortnightly?  No.  How about using the folks on community service to clear the foot high weeds from the gutters? No.  Unbelievably the decision has been taken to permanently switch off street lights throughout the county.

In my town we were advised (by a small entry in the local paper) that this would amount to every other light being deactivated.  In reality however, there are banks of three and four out in areas such as roundabouts, dark footpaths, road crossings and car parks.  A local primary school campaigned for months to have a zebra crossing installed outside the entrance after the lollipop lady retired after 25 years of service.  Petitions were organised, protests mounted outside the school, the local press and television were involved and eventually the council agreed to provide the crossing after initially only saying they would install it on a blind bend.........

Yes, you have guessed it.................the streetlight at the new zebra crossing has been switched off.  What planet are these people on?  These measures will doubtless lead to an increase in accidents, assaults, people generally feeling unsafe and of course a rise in pollution when folks drive rather than walk along unlit areas.

You couldn’t make it up.

I do love the way here in the UK we are obliged to follow excessive health and safety rules directed at us by the powers that be in Brussels.  No conker playing in schools; mountains of paperwork to be signed by parents before children can go on a 300 yard (not metres) walk from school to the library; manual handling courses to be completed before a box of staples can be picked up.......you know the sort of thing I mean. 

On my recent venture into mainland Europe I saw many examples of non-compliance in relation to ‘elf ‘n’ safety including a workman down a hole using a pneumatic drill (no visor, ear defenders or breathing mask), roofers wandering up and down the wooden struts (no hard hats or harnesses) and road workers wandering about on the carriageway without a care for oncoming traffic.

By far though, one of the funniest sights I ever saw took place in Belgium, yes home of the regulation making bigwigs, a few years ago.  In Bruges, a decorator was painting the wooden frames on the outside of a beautiful old building.  He was actually perched on a scaffold (hooray for regulations!)................however one side of the structure was on the pavement and the other on a barge on the adjacent canal......yes, you have twigged it.......half the scaffold swayed side to side with the movement of the barge.

How do they get away with it?  I am all for sensible safety precautions but we as a nation appear to be caught up in a never ending whirlwind of nonsense and act accordingly in fear of being brought to book if we do not comply.  As a childminder, I have to get parents to sign on their contract to give permission to apply plasters or use antiseptic wipes on their child.  What is the alternative?  Let the child drip blood all day and keep their grazes filled with grit, mud and whatever else they choose to fall over into?  The world has gone stark raving bonkers.

I am now off to take the small folk to the shops in the pushchair (a BS approved one of course).

Cheese, free offers and trolleys

Cheese, free offers and trolleys

I have just returned from a week in France, great time, iffy weather, plenty cheese based meals (oh how glad I am not have a cholesterol test booked for this week) and so much to see and do.  Started the trip at the Le Mans 24 hour race.............very different atmosphere from the F1 grand prix which I am used to and a great tram link from the circuit to the hotel made life easy.  I want a tram in my town now.................I wonder what the planners will think about that? 

On arrival home I checked my emails and now have a new offer (apart from the powered mobility scooters, walk in baths, herbal remedies etc which you regular readers have heard me mention).  I have now been offered a trial pack of Tena Lady pads.  Now then, I realise that some people do have a weak pelvic floor and would appreciate a free pack of these modern day incontinence aids........I, however do not have a weak floor.  My floor is fully fitted with no slippage at the edges and no crumpling in the middle thank you very much.  Even when I laugh insanely at stuff no wee comes out.

The French are welcome to take over the duties of the Royal Mail here.  As I have yet to receive either the missing Christmas post or a reply to my last complaint letter on the subject, anyone other than the Muppets currently running the postal service would be a bonus.  I posted seven cards from a remote French village where the post box looked as if it was last used during the French Revolution.  They arrived in England two days, yes two days, later.  Vive la France!  I will shortly be booking a December trip to France to post my cards and parcels.

Having visited Camembert during the trip, I learned that the white scabby rind on the cheese is created by injecting it with penicillin.  Thanks for the warning on the food safety labels (not......) for those of us who are highly allergic to the stuff and who will stop breathing should it be ingested.  In any case, soft cheese just looks rank and is one of those things that should never be put in your mouth, along with curry, pot noodle, chilli and assorted other oddities for sale in the supermarket.

I visited the Bayeux Tapestry last week which is always worth a trip.  Afterwards as it was approaching lunchtime, the little cafe nearby was a handy eatery with more cheese based food on the menu.  Having negotiated a plethora of American tourists who were trying to order their food using a very slooooooow voice and opening their mouths wiiiiiiiide, a table was found adjacent to the street.  Not any ordinary street, oh no.  The view was of the ambulance bay at the local hospital.......a busy place with drip dependant patients on trolleys arriving every few minutes.  This gave rise to a new lunchtime game, “Guess What Ailment French Granny Has”.  Not really very dignified for the patients but space was short.

Au revoir!