Teeth, missed delivery and kids with guns

In the world of ‘you couldn’t make it up’, I have had yet another ‘you couldn’t make it up’ moment.  As you regular readers are aware, I have been trying to get a reliable dentist sorted out and went for an assessment at another practice at the beginning of this month.  To recap, the dentist did the examination then announced he was leaving the practice.  I was subsequently allocated another dentist and booked an appointment for September.  Today I had a call from the practice, the transcript of which follows...............

Me:	“Hello.”
Receptionist	“Hi, is that Miss Davies?  This is ****** Dental Practice.  You have an appointment with Mrs ****** on 16th September.”
Me	“Yes, that is right.”
Receptionist	“Well she won’t be here that day so I need to re-book you.”
Me	“Oh, okay, but that date is the earliest I can do as I am a childminder and the school holidays have started now.  Can you also confirm that I won’t be charged for the visit as the dentist I saw previously knew he was leaving so I should never have been allocated to him?”
Receptionist	“Ummmmm, well I am not sure about that so I would need to check with the manager. Right, I have an appointment on 11th August at twenty past ten.”
Me	“I already told you that I can’t get there until September.  The appointment I had, had been for the day before I go away for two weeks.”
Receptionist	“Oh yes, sorry, you did tell me.  How about first thing on Thursday 22nd September.”
Me	“No..........that is when I am away.  I can’t come until the first Friday in October.”
Receptionist	“Oh I see, well I will need to go and speak to the dentist to try and book you in earlier and I will check about the charge for you.”
Me	“I have already told you more than once that I cannot come any earlier.”
Receptionist	“Right, yes, ummm, okay. Well I will come back to you later then, bye.”

At this point I was starting to question my own sanity.  Why is it so hard to get an appointment in the first place and also to get anyone with a degree of sensibility on the ‘phone?

More fun and games involving the Royal Mail this week.  I missed a delivery by three minutes and contacted the sorting office to ask them to get the driver to pop back as he could only have been a street or two away.  I was rudely informed that they no longer telephone the drivers in the van and that I would have to collect it myself from the sorting office.  I explained that this would involve walking there (no parking facilities) with six children (two in a buggy) and it wasn’t very helpful really.  The jobsworth said “Yeah, well, I guess you will have to” and hung up................ 

Most of the delivery people have the sense to either knock at the neighbours to leave a parcel or put it in the recycling box and pop a note through the door.  Sadly, no such though process is part of the Royal Mail’s remit.  Once again, I will be writing to complain, although my hopes of a reply let alone rectification of the matter are low. 

Meanwhile, I am trawling through Amazon.com to purchase a personality and have it delivered to the rude man at the sorting office (complete with picture instructions as he is clearly incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together so I presume reading has bypassed him too).

What is it about people these days encouraging their children to run amok with nerf guns, firing their bullets at people and passing cars?  I currently have a problem with about a dozen primary school kids gathering on my shared drive (with the horrid child from next door), then moving to the traffic island outside and firing the guns.  They also run in and out of the bushes and trees and fire bullet after bullet.  Some of these weapons are huge and the kids look menacing.  In the society we live in, what on earth makes it acceptable to encourage kids to play with guns?  This only glamorises gun crime and makes it look like fun.  Most of the kids bothering me and the other neighbours do not even live in this street.  Two in fact travel nearly quarter or a mile to get here.  Where are the responsible parents?  How do they know their children are safe when they cannot see them?  The child next door moves back home to the USA next week so hopefully the problem will resolve itself.  If not, they will be chased off my drive pretty sharpish. 

Jackpots, old girls and who hid the podium?

Jackpots, old girls and who hid the podium?

I had hoped to report my large Euromillions win this week, the £166,000,000 one.........however I won the princely sum of £2.90.  There was only one winner of the jackpot and they live in the UK, just sadly not at my address.  My parents do not appear to have been the big winners either, although I feel my Dad might be fibbing as I spotted him wheeling a barrow of gold bars along the high street earlier today.

I received an interesting email the other day from someone called Eterina.  On reading it, she thought she was writing to a man (okay, I can cope with that), rambled on about loving the UK and how she wanted to live and work here, then the crunch question................could I send her some money by transfer to pay for her flight from Belarus?  Errrrr that will be a no then.

Last weekend I was at Silverstone for the British Grand Prix weekend.  As usual it was a great event, however having paid £300 for my three day platinum pass I had expected to see the podium presentation.  The new building which was purpose built over the past year has been designed with the podium around the corner from the pit straight grandstand.  Ludicrous idea........we had to watch it on the screen in the same way as being at home.  I was not the only one to voice my displeasure and my letter of complaint about this and a couple of other items is on its way to the powers that be.  Having said that, tickets for 2012 have already been ordered in the hope that the situation will be rectified.

There is a school reunion being planned for the ‘old girls’ from my secondary school.  Most of us have not seen each other since at least 1979 so it will be interesting to see how we have all changed and what we have been up to over the years.  There are many other people to track down but for now we can have a small gathering and see if anyone knows where the others are.  Sadly, at least one of our class has passed away at too young an age.

I have been basking in the glorious July weather this week................not.  Why do I need to wear winter jumpers and boots at this time of year?  At least I am saving money on the water bill as the garden is getting plenty rain on it.  Perhaps by the time the clocks go back we will finally get some decent temperatures.  I can live in hope (with a warm woolly on).

Flames, a tank and barmy British weather

Welcome to another case of ‘you couldn’t make it up’.  Following my visit to the dentist last week and his announcement that he is leaving at the end of this month, I was called by the receptionist from the practice yesterday to let me know which lucky dentist has been allocated to me.  I have an appointment booked for September with her but, wait for it, the appointment is just an assessment to see what needs to be done.............. Hello????  Was this not what took place last week?  Can she not decipher the original notes?  Just let them try to charge me for another assessment.

My Mum turns 80 this week and we had a family lunch for her last weekend.  All went well, plenty of laughs and enough food to feed a small African nation.  The cake, however, was the highlight of the afternoon.  In keeping with her octogenarian status I purchased eighty candles and lined them up on the cake (in neat lines obviously to satisfy my OCD tendencies).  Upon lighting them (it took three of us to carry this out), it was impossible to get the matches to the more centrally placed candles as the heat generated from the others was intense.  As the breeze caught the flames they massed together, lit the central candles and produced a high pyramid of flame.  Fortunately Mum has short hair so managed to avoid turning into a Guy Fawkes effigy and did eventually blow them out having had several attempts fuelled with laughter.

Bizarre sight today at breakfast time.  An army tank on a trailer went past my front window.  No idea who was moving it, why it was in this town or where it was off to.  Needless to say the driver took the wrong side of the road around the traffic island to save two seconds travel time.  No wonder the armed forces are short of equipment when their tanks are hiding out in the market towns around the country.

The week ahead is due to be packed full with thundery showers, cloud cover and general mank.  Hmmmm, this should make the British Grand Prix interesting then..........what is the betting it rains the whole weekend there again and I get as wet as four years ago – that year there was such a bad weather pattern all weekend that the merchandise stands sold out of waterproof coats, which considering the cheapest start at around £80 isn’t bad going.  The new stand opposite the relocated pit lane has been built and it appears my row is above the fence line level which should give the opportunity to take some good photos.  Despite any adverse weather conditions, this is a superb event and one I look forward to year after year.  The tickets for 2012 will be booked as soon as available, which in generally within 24 hours of the current year’s race finishing.

Pruning, crowns and snack biscuits

Prior to my recent trip to France (the one where the eatery had a commanding view of the ambulance bay) I asked my Dad to trim the privet hedge in my back garden.  He is always desperate to get his hands on my shrubbery and after many two week vacations I have returned to find a once six foot high bush trimmed to within an inch of its life, with the assurance that it will grow back.  This trimming is repeated around the whole of the garden.  Anyway, I digress, so back to the current plot.

On looking out at my newly trimmed shrub two weeks ago I admired the level top on it and the neat sides.  Ah yes Dad, very impressive. Errrrrr hang on....................why is there is large space underneath?  Where have my three lavender plants gone?  The ones I have been tending for the past couple of months?  Upon further investigation it was revealed that dad had pulled up ‘the undergrowth’ as it was getting in his way.  I ended up rifling through the wheelie bin and retrieving said plants, two of which were still in the same formation as when they left their pots.  Dad said he remembered shaking the soil off something as we are not supposed to put it in the wheelie.......at this point I held up the third plant which only had the roots and a few flowers left on.  Ironically I had planted the lavender to replace the ‘undergrowth’ he had pulled up previously.........the ground cover plants I had been cultivating for five years.

Unfortunately this extreme pruning has passed down the line to me................I cut a tree/shrub thing last autumn literally down to the bare trunk and branches, not a leaf or flower head in sight.  It has totally grown back with amazing speed and is about to burst into the odd flower it produces.  The same cannot be said for the bay tree I remodelled, although it makes a very handy coat stand.

Tomorrow I am finally off to the new dental practice as they have not cancelled on me again (although there are still 16 hours until my appointment time).  This will make three surgeries I am registered with...............I am determined to find one that does the job quickly, efficiently and at a price to suit my meagre budget.

The next day.................!!

Right, off I toddled to the dentist, filled in the registration forms and went for a lie down in the chair.  Very pleasant chap had a poke around my teeth, lots of talking in code to the dental nurse, took seven x-rays then delivered his verdict.  I need a couple of crowns (apparently they are gold coloured so I expect to be mugged for them in my non-lit town) and a root canal.  No real surprises there then.  I told him that I couldn’t see him until September due to school holidays, and then he dropped the bombshell....................he leaves at the end of this month so someone else will have to carry out the drilling, filling and sticking on.  At least I am consistent...............this is the third dentist I have scared off.  Of course if I win the £136 million on the Euro Lottery later on then I will be having the lot done privately whilst lying on a Caribbean beach.

The dentist was followed by a vet visit for annual jabs (for the cat not me) and a weigh in.  The weight loss regime is going well and she has lost 400g.  As these biscuits have been so successful I will have to start snacking on them.

Off to put police tape around my shrubs as a deterrent to my Dad and his selection of clipping tools.

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!