Thursday, September 30, 2004
Vote Now!
DG's rescued us, and risen to the challenge of doing what I couldn't. My thanks to him, and to e and Debster, who collapsed them even further.
Here are The Ten Most Annoying Annoyances of Modern Living, as extracted from your excellent suggestions here on Tuesday.
1. Unsupervised children
2. Automated call centres
3. Inconsiderate use of mobile phones
4. Inconsiderate cyclists
5. Inconsiderate drivers
6. Inconsiderate use of supermarket trolleys
7. Gum chewers
8. Smokers
9. Spam and junk mail
10. George Bush
To get The Grumpy Old BW Readers' Top Ten, I'd like you all to pick your 3 most annoying of those 10, and to order them 1st=(whatever number), 2nd=(whatever number) and 3rd=(whatever number).
3 points will be given to each person's number 1, 2 to their number 2, and 1 to their number 3. No tied positions please. Be judgmental and decisive :) Polls shut Friday midnight. Results Sunday.
Read, digest, and think
Other than my Blog Daddy, there are two people that I read regularly for whom I particularly have the utmost respect as webloggers.
I use the term 'blogger' in its older form there, because both of these people have been around for significantly longer than most (although by no means all) of the people I link.
And it shows.
It shows in the way they write, the way they comment, and the way they respond to comments left for them.
They have seen the media of weblogging grow from small beginnings, and they have been part of it, grown with it, and learnt, and, I believe, try to lead by example.
One is Alan.
The other is mike.
I have never seen either of them be disrespectful to anyone, anywhere.
I do try to follow their example.
But I get it wrong sometimes.
Despite the best of intentions.
So do others.
Alan has distilled his wisdom and written something today that absolutely and totally perfectly encapsulates the way I feel at the moment.
Art Class: Session 3
White crockery again, same as last week.
The tutor suggested that I (well, actually, anyone) didn't attempt this sauce/gravy boat as it would be rather difficult. But I've got a thing about boats at the moment (as you may have noticed), and I like a challenge, so I did :) She then took the liberty of holding it up for all to see while I was in the little girls' room towards the end of the session. I was so embarrassed. But sort-of secretly pleased too as this is only the 6th watercolour painting I've ever done, and, after last year, I didn't think I could do it.
As I always say, a good teacher can bring out the best in any student.
I didn't quite have time to finish the background, which is why it's a bit blotchy.
Thought for the day
Reprove thy friend privately; commend him publicly.
- Solon (Greek lawgiver & politician in Athens (638 BC - 559 BC))
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
I just can't do it
It's no good, I can't manage to narrow down all those excellent Grumpy Old BW Readers suggestions, from yesterday, about annoyances of modern living, enough to make a meaningful list for a vote.
Sorry.
The Sky's the Limit
It would be lovely to see some more skylines around and about...
There's now a list of the 24 participants in this blog meme so far here.
It just needs to be a view from your work or home, or somewhere you spend time, I think. Doesn't need to be spectacular, just a view. More details on Stu's blog, where it originated.
In case you missed it, mine is here.
No Comment
Would that there were a way of digitally signing comments as you can emails, so that people couldn't comment pretending to be other people.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Grumpy Old BW Readers
It's no good. It's my age. I think that Grumpy Old Men is hilarious. The second series isn't quite as good as the first - but none-the-less, unmissable. Especially Jeremy Clarkson and AA Gill, who giggle like a couple of schoolkids. Fridays, BBC2 10-10.30pm.
Reading out and about, I notice what people are moaning about. Linked to a media report, last week there were numerous posts about mobile phones in cinemas and theatres. This week it will be something else. The week after something else again.
Today I offer you the opportunity to nominate your favourite annoyances of modern living.
Nominate away, as many as you like each. It doesn't matter whether someone has already mentioned it. When we've got plenty I'll work out the 10 most popular (or least popular, depending how you look at it), and we can have a vote (or something) to get the Top 10.
Thought for the day
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable man persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.
Monday, September 27, 2004
A Question from Mr BW
How do you text in Chinese?
(and no, Ho Lee Elsie, the phones aren't enabled to use Chinese characters)
China, A Progress Report - A Guest Blog by Mr BW
It is 5 years since I was last in Beijing and at that time I had been a fairly regular visitor for the previous 5-6 years. Progress in the form of obvious public wealth was strong and steady. New buildings were springing up and luxury 'Western' cars were beginning to be used by more than the usual elite: who will always exist in the poorest of countries.
The people were, and are, wonderful. My guide was at Tiananmen Square during the 'uprising and massacre'. She had been taken there from school by bus and really didn't know what was happening or why they were there. Organisers, who, in her now deeper understanding of the situation, wanted to accelerate reform beyond any rate that would be acceptable to the ‘Party’ or wise for China’s development, used them. The world knows the result; the view of many educated Chinese I have spoken to is that it actually slowed reform, as the 'Party' feared anarchy and tightened reigns that were being slackened.
5 years ago there were clear signs that the infrastructure and general organisational abilities of the ruling forces were inadequate. The rules and regulations were all there but the execution was riddled with corruption. Some examples are clear to all. Every taxi requires a 12-month road inspection similar to the 'MOT' in the UK. But I was told, 'There are many ways to obtain such a certificate and, after the first 2-3 years, as the cars are in such poor condition, few involve the car being checked'. Many more problems are less overt: business is all about who you know and who your parents are, and returning favours. If your father promoted a man, you will expect that he will return the favour to your child in the future, either directly or through their contact circle.
This is, of course, nothing that every nation hasn't gone through, so I do not throw stones here, it is just a record of where China is at the moment (in my opinion).
Anyway, less of this rambling, back to the theme of my guest blog (if I ramble too long I may not be invited back).
5 years ago the transport of choice for most Beijingers was the bicycle. Main roads consisted of dual carriageways for cars and a separate carriageway for bicycles; as you can see from the picture, it was full.
When I arrived this time, it struck me that there were virtually no bicycles and the roads were absolutely clogged with cars. 
Beijing has 5 (M25-like) ring roads at the moment, with plans for another 2. My rep said that not all cyclists had moved to cars, but life for the bicycle was getting progressively more dangerous, so those that had not bought a car tended to use taxis. The result, as you can see, is an empty bicycle lane and a grid-locked road system.
As you can see in the picture, when I arrived last week the sky was clear and I commented to my rep that the air felt clean and asked what they had done to clear pollution since my last visit. The answer was, 'Nothing, we have had high winds for a couple of days which has blown the pollution away, just you wait a couple of days.'
Well, he was right. This is the view from my hotel three days later, visibility was only 2-300 metres:
So the bicycles have gone, car ownership is rocketing and the pollution from cars, homes and poorly regulated factories is producing smog, which I can only equate to some of the pictures of London in the '50s.
So, what happens next for Beijing?
Well one thing for sure is that the Olympics will happen in 4 years time, in the heat and pollution of a Beijing summer. If the rate of change continues here then what will the pollution be like for the Olympics? The games centre is on the outskirts of the city. With the current rate of building, in 4 years it could well be absorbed by city expansion. Whatever, it is certainly within the pollution cloud. I do not think that the marathon route has been finalised yet, but if they thought Athens was a tough route, I walked through the streets of Beijing last week and felt the pollution stinging my eyes like a bad bout of hay fever, so a 26-mile race will be tough indeed.
This is all beginning to sound a little depressing, but it needn't be. Beijing and the people of Beijing are wonderful people, friendly, helpful, focused on bettering themselves and keen to please.
The new leader of China (last week Hu Jintao took over as the new President), is clearly determined to show the world how advanced China is becoming. They have already put a man in space and held their first Grand Prix race. They now have the Olympics on the horizon and so might just have the drive and motivation to ensure that the pictures of Beijing shown around the world are not taken through a pollution haze.
I wish them all the luck in the world. The people of China deserve to succeed.
- That was a Guest Blog on Behalf of The Mr BW Business Development in China Party :)
Public Service Announcement
I'm getting thousands hundreds well, OK, lots of search engine hits for variants of a question asking:
"Who did Terry Wogan call 'The Witch With The Twitch?'"
There only seem to be half a dozen returns - and another of them is mike, and none of them give the answer.
Being a Kind Witch, I asked Mr BW, as he listens to Terry Wogan in the car on his way to work.
He says the answer is Anne Robinson.
Now - would one of you searchers arriving here please tell me why you want to know, because I'm also an Inquisitive Witch? Is it for a competiton?
Thought for the day
How you choose to respond each moment to the movie of life determines how you see the next frame, and the next, and eventually how you feel when the movie ends.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Sailing Away
Fabulous and memorable day.
Six and a half hours of peaceful tranquility, sailing from Brightlingsea on one of the last remaining bawleys (a sort of smack). This one was originally owned by William Young (of Young's Seafoods), and used for whitebait fishing for the first half of last century. It is 34 feet long, weighs 20 tonnes and can do 7 knots with all 4 sails up.
Fantastic lunch, home-made by the skipper's wife, local oysters, knowledgeable crew (of 2), and only 3 of us on board (there could have been 10). The other person was celebrating his 60th birthday, and, we discovered, lives just 5 miles from us.
Just never say, "I hope we don't get grounded on the mud flats on the way back in because the tide is really low," when you've got BW on board... This picture was taken shortly after we had to abandon ship (well, OK, get taken back to land in the launch).
And I've got loads more lovely pictures to bore you with later in the week. I thought this one would look good in sepia but I forgot how to do it (and couldn't find my notes, again), so made it B&W instead.
Thoroughly recommended if you fancy this sort of thing - the skipper is a real enthusiast. And very good Value at £50 per person for one of the day trips (including an excellent lunch) or £350-£400 (depending on season) to charter the whole boat for the day (and you can take up to 10 people).
And what record came on the radio in the car just as we pulled into the drive as we came home? Yep, Rod Stewart's 'We Are Sailing'. Spooky.
All at sea
*sings*
"Toooo-day's the day the Blue Witches have their piiic-niiiic."
Ah, no, drat, that's not quite right...
*clears throat and tries again*
"Toooo-day's the day the Blue Witches have the first part of Mr BW's birthday present."
A day trip on a bawley.
It's no good, it just doesn't scan does it? :)
Pictures later, no doubt.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
The 66th Make Blue Witch Laugh Award
This week I have 6 contenders. I have a feeling that it might be better not to post 2 of them ;) We'll see, later, when I've done the work that I should have got done yesterdy but didn't...
In the meantime go and click round some of the Skyline Blog Meme posts, or put up one of your own (see below, and follow the links from Stu's site - which would also make especially good reading for those of you who like mathematicy (?sp) things) - and hey, he uses VRS and hates Bush (the World's No. 1 Terrorist), just like me :).
8pm Update: The delay has to do with Mr BW's overly-early arrival back from China (an hour before planned), someone arriving to collect the large wardrobe from the room that is tranforming from a spare bedroom into a 'space' for 'things' to happen with an inadequate vehicle (look, if you were collecting a 3-door solid wood, very heavy, wardrobe, and you had the choice, would you bring a jeep with roof-rack, or a jeep and large trailer? Unluckily for us they chose the former, and it's taken 2 hours to get it to pieces and into/onto the vehicle. Grrr.) So, I still haven't finished the work I have to do, and the bargain I made with myself this morning was that the MBWLA didn't go up until I had. So, apologies. And it will be this side of midnight...
10.44pm Update: All done, so I've got round to coding my file of copy and pasted bits. Why, I wonder, do I always find loads of contenders in weeks when I am busiest work-wise, so have least time for coding (and isn't it time I got round to making a standard template? :))
Contender 1: DG:
Stop Press: Back in June I rode on the very last number 8 Routemaster bus back to Bow Garage. You must remember - I went on and on about it at the time. A BBC film crew were on board too and, if you're in the London area, you can watch their report tonight on Inside Out, BBC1, 7.30pm.You might even catch sight of me too. I'm the one not wearing an anorak.
Are you sure dear? :)
Contender 2: billy:
...there are few people I hate...there are fewer groups of people I hate...one group of people is the "can't give a fuck 'cos it's too damn hard to bother but the world still owes me and if anything goes wrong I've got an excuse or a note from my mum" type person...this person, let's call him kyle, is the world's most idle git, in fact I'm pretty sure that he gets his mum to press his chest during the night because he might not be bothered to breathe...idleness isn't a problem added to this is the fact he just doesn't care...and the final piece is the fact that he has an excuse...ask kyle to fill a fridge with prepared salads and only three shelves will be done, the contents will be pushed in any way up and the date rotation will be wrong - point this out to kyle and he will inform you that he had done it perfectly but one customer had come along, emptied the fridge except for the three shelves left but that was because the customer then proceeded to crush each bag and mix them up - and it's true, so you can't tell me off...all of this means that there is no point kyle turning up for work because you have to do more work to cover his mistakes (which, 'cos he does so little are at least few)...unfortunately he hasn't been sacked instantly - with no official condemnation of his actions others have seen this as the way forward...on sunday I was working with kyle and two kyle clones...
I so feel for you dear. I'm sure we all do. We've all been in similar situations with our so-called colleagues, haven't we?
Contender 3: And here's how dave spends his days off work, and the reason why he will never get better, if the old wives' tales are to be believed...
diy tv shows, masturbating, buying a house abroad tv shows, snoozing, masturbating, eating soup, turning pc on, turning it off ten minutes later, masturbating (dryly (is that a real word?)), looking out the window, having one biscuit then realising you've had 20, being soothed by cbeebies, john cravens news round being read by someone not john craven, home and away, masturbating to characters from home and away, bf arriving home, talking to him (and being shocked at the sound of your voice after a day alone), more soup, coronation street, more diy tv shows, location location location (and the last wank of the day watching phil), drama about cops/murder squad/patholgists/single mum cid officers, cornflakes, last of the biscuits, bath, bed, can't sleep, get up, channel 5 movie, masturbate (it's after midnight now so it's the first one of the new day), wake up at 5am on the couch shivering, bed and sleep. repeat.
I did notice that, the next morning, dave tried to convince himself fellow Oddverse readers that he was, in fact, referring to Alan, rather than himself. Good try dave, but no-one was convinced, really, were they? ;)
Contender 4: Nic pointed out that IKEA seem to expect packages to have items missing, and put in a cartoon strip that suggests ringing the store if components are AWOL.
Mr Piggy's observation allowed Tim to make a comment that made me laugh:
#7 Sep 22 2004, 08:35 pm
Why doesn't he [the man in the cartoon strip] have a willy?
Mr. Piggy [email] [homepage]
#8 Sep 22 2004, 08:43 pm
Dear Ikea, I have opened my flat pack furniture and discovered I am missing my willy. Please can you send a replacement by return of post.
Tim [email]
Contender 5: And now we're into dangerous territory, but, after the day I've had, I'm in a daring and mischievous mood...
Yesterday, Ian wrote an interesting post about the phenomenon of 'Blog Sycophantia'. Worth reading if you haven't already (what no permalinks Ian? It's the post dated 24th, entitled "No, YOU'RE great..."), including the line:
If you go into Ray's comments, you can often find people disagreeing with him. Now that's partly because he likes to provoke people into an argument, and partly because some commenters go over the top with their verbal attacks. Nevertheless, it's better than reading a long list of arse-kissing sycophants sucking up like their life depended on it.
The comments made interesting reading, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to make a couple of pertinent points, because, I don't agree with Ian on this. As regular readers here will know, and as I said there, "I believe strongly that everyone has a right to put what they want on their own blog, as long as, in my opinion, it does no harm to any other individual (companies providing poor customer service excepted :), and especially to others in the local blogland community." Regulars here will also know that I welcome all comments, in fact I love and encourage comments (and can't see the point of blogging without comments) - you'd never know, would you? ;) but, I will not tolerate people being deliberately abusive to either me, or, more importantly, to anyone else. Yes, there's a thin line between having a laugh and a joke, and being disrespectful. We all get it wrong sometimes, usually unintentionally.
Poor Ray (less said about his comment wars the better methinks) popped by to read the ensuing thread, later... and made me laugh:
Bloody hell, too many potential internet landmines to step on here.I've stepped on too many already, my 'internet persona' is now walking around virtually with an eye patch, one good lung and on two blackened and smouldering stumps for legs...
And I'm still not sure if Ian was referring to me in his original post ;)
Contender 6 is, erm, classified. If you thought the last contender was a bit too much of a hot potato, then you really wouldn't want to see this one. Believe me. Unless you already have. In which case you'll probably know to what I refer ;) So I've replaced this contender with number 7, that made me laugh this morning, which would normally have been after this week's closing time. Or should that be 6R? Just to ensure that we still have the number of contenders that I mentioned some 15 and a bit hours ago now. Although your comment might still win, so don't give up hope, Elsie ;)
Contender 7: DG's daily conker reports. Replacement for the Bow Road Renovation Update reports as there was nothing to report. Do keep waching that space.
Grief... that must be the longest MBWLA ever. And it contained a mini-blog in its own right. Given the late hour, I'll post the winner in the morning. I know that you love the anticipation and I'd hate to take that away from you because I've been a slow-working Witch :)
In the morning: Very hard choice. Tim just has it. 2 points to him. One point and well done to the 6 others of you.
Friday, September 24, 2004
The Coven Skyline
I love this photo.
I took it on my 40th birthday hot air balloon trip (2 years and 3 days ago, I've just discovered), in a tiny balloon (not one of those nasty commercial trips), with a local balloonist, over The Coven.
The Skyline Blog Meme Project (via La P) gave me the perfect opportunity to post it.
Do join in - and stick the URL in the comments below, as well as letting Stuart know.
Everything you never wanted to know about sex
Need a giggle to get through Friday afternoon?
Try The Sun's guide to sexual problems (via Gert).
I really, really, really struggle to understand why people have such worries and concerns.
My motto is, if you can't talk about things with someone, then you shouldn't be in bed with them (that motto actually applies to things financial as well as sexual).
I don't believe that there's any such thing as bad sex. Well, I've never had any. But then I guess I believe in communicating with people... and so I've never had any problem ascertaining either what is wanted, or achieving what I want. That's not to say that I haven't found myself in some tricky situations, but nothing that a bit of patience, honesty, and empathy, haven't cured.
I guess that being an observer at a 'sexual dysfunction clinic' when I was 20 and doing a particular course unit when I did my first degree helped... as did having a long-term (9 month) first serious relationship when I was 15 where we did everything but have penetrative sex. I am utterly convinced that a lot of people end up dissatisfied because they think that that goal is the be-all and end-all in a sexual relationship.
If I had but one bit of advice for anyone at the age of contemplating that kind of relationship for the first time, it would be: Take time, explore, and learn to love all of your partner's body, not just their genitals. And don't guess, ask.
Tell you what, if you have a 'problem of a personal or sexual nature' (as they euphemistically used to say on Capital Radio's problem phone-in on a Wednesday night, hosted by - was it Adrian Love? - with Anna Raeburn and the Capital Doctor, when I was a student in London in the early 80's, highlight of our week, listening to that was) stick it in the comments box and I'll give you my advice. Start it "Dear BW..." and don't spare any details. I promise not to tell a soul ;)
Customer dis-service. Again.
BW: Can you tell me how much notice I have to give to discontinue a telephone line please?
BT call centre operative: I don't think you have to give any notice. I'll just check. [3 minutes pass] No, you can just ring up and we'll do it straight away. But - can I ask why you want to do that?
BW: Because that number is a second line, used only for a computer. I'm getting broadband. From Pipex. Next week.
BT call centre operative: Did you know that BT do broadband?
BW: [audible sigh] Of course.
BT call centre operative: Could I ask why you're not taking BT broadband?
BW: Well, the fact that I've just spent 32 minutes in a queue in your automated queuing system waiting to speak to a human, and then another 3 minutes on hold because you didn't know the answer to my question, which, let's face it, was a fairly basic question, might have something to do with it...
Many thanks to everyone around and about whose brain I have picked about broadband and its requirements - especially Douglas and Pat and Mr Piggy (he's giving out ice-creams at The Sty btw). Blogland is wonderful, isn't it?
And, do you know, I've been emailing NThelL about migration to broadband (the support line told me they'd only do it by email because of the complexity of what I was trying to do - move a narrowband account from my computer line to my voice line and then change to broadband, and so keep my email addresses - not rocket science!!) - I've sent over 100 emails about this to them in the last 10 days (I got impatient at their lack of response you see!!) and all I've had is a standard reply, to the second one I sent, saying "Good news! Broadband is now available in your area, vist our website to sign up!" I've given up on them.
More pensions
Remember my little moan about pensions the other day?
In the comments I mentioned the way SERPS had been altered to the disadvantage of people of my generation.
Women born after 6th April 1955 have also had the age at which they can retire and take their state pensions raised from 60 to 65 (I'm not saying that equal opportunites shouldn't apply here, just that it's changed the rules for people already paying into the system).
Well, I've now discovered that the new pension legislation that I knew was on its way (which comes into force on 6th April 2006) is going to make a huge impact on our future plans.
Mr BW and I have everything set up for him to retire at 50.
As I already get my occupational pension, and it's enhanced and index-linked (*smiles broadly*), there is no point in him working any longer than he actually legally has to. We could just about live on what I get if we had no mortgage (which is a position I'm working on attaining in the next couple of years), but I'm a Witch with expensive tastes and I prefer to live above the poverty line, despite my Value streak.
Last night I learnt something that I can't believe I hadn't heard about before.
From 6th April 2006, the government are changing the rules so that the minimum age at which you can start taking your private or company pension will rise from 50 to 55.
What's it got to do with them? We enetered into contracts wtih the various schemes we pay into, with target dates of 50. How can they get away with moving the goalposts?
So, far from having the 10 years and 35 days to go until he retires that we've been joking about recently, Mr BW now has 15 years and 35 days. If he was 18 months older, he'd have to work 3 and a half years less.
When Mr BW lost his final salary pension scheme a couple of year ago, I was very clear that I did not think it was a good idea for him to pay any more than the minimum in to the new (company stakeholder) scheme.
He's never been very happy about that, but, as I handle all the money decisions, he's gone with my judgment.
I now know that I was correct.
At least the rest of our savings are under my control to do what we like with, when we like.
How dare the government alter private arrangements with pension providers that we've made, years ago, to our disadvantage? It's got absolutley nothing to do with them as far as I can see. Why are they doing it? Because they think that people who've planned to retire at 50 will run out of money and become dependent on state hand-outs?
And I don't think that the government should be surprised that a vast proportion of people have made no financial plans or provision for their old age over and above depending on the state. People see the government changing the goalposts on things time and time again. People don't know where they stand. The system is too complicated for them to understand. They are concerned about how it will work. So they just don't bother.
A fuller simplified summary of the pension rules changes is here. And the official government site is here.
I am not amused. I dread to think how much more unamused Mr BW is going to be tomorrow night when he gets back from China and I tell him.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Session 2
With a bit of encouragement from the person from whom I stole the idea of posting my 'artistic' efforts (thanks Harriet!), and as they're not too bad (in my estimation anyway), here are this week's offerings:
Left: quick sketch of some white crockery - tall vase, small teapot (spout facing forwards) and odd-shaped jug (the pencil lines scanned very faint so I've had to play with the colour balance, hence why it's gone cream and there's a smudge, but I can't be bothered to play any more to take them out).
Right: watercolour second stage - only the jug is anywhere near finished. The background was done first (wet, in sections), and then the same colour was further thinned to make a wash for the objects, which was then removed with a dry brush or kitchen towel for the 'highlights', and added to for the darker 'shadows'. As my experience with watercolour last year was limited to incessant colour mixing and painting of small sample squares, and about a million different practice washes, I was quite pleased with how this first attempt at anything 'proper' was begining to turn out.
And many thanks to Alan for magicking up an 'Art for Art's Sake' category in the sidebar (just above the archives), to which I'll add my weekly efforts. Well, the ones I'm pleased with anyway. Will I get away with that? :)
Thought for the day
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Multilingual weblog glossary
If you've ever wondered about blog and tech terms in other languages, wonder no more.
(via Somewhat's comments)
The fine conversation of art
Tutor: BW, how many watercolour brushes do you have?
Me: Um - let's see, I'll just count them... [counts] 14. But that's only because Mr BW wasn't sure what size to get me when I asked for some for christmas, so he bought me one of each.
Tutor: Right. 14. [long pause] BW how many brushes have you got in your hand?
BW: Um - let's see... [looks at left hand; then right hand] Well, that'd be 5 in my left hand and 2 in my right hand.
Tutor: And are you comfortable with 7 brushes in your hands?
BW: Now that you mention it...
She's wonderful is the art tutor. As I said last week.
My favourite part of The Coven Grounds
This was one of the last parts of the garden that I designed and planted.
I never tackle a design project until I have a feel for what is needed somewhere. Because Mr BW objects to building things twice :)
It took several years to know that the strip between The Coven building and the fields beyond needed to be made into a long narrow koi pond, with a seating area at the far end, and a clematis-covered arch (out of the picture, but through which the picture was taken), dividing it from the main garden.
When I had that idea it was a steeply sloping strip, running off at a 40 degree angle from the house to the hedge. Mr BW used the soil that he dug out of the pond to level it out (yep, the pond is deep), and now no-one would ever know.
At this tail-end-of-the-summer time of year it is rather overgrown (the path - which is made of old paving slabs we salvaged from elsewhere in the garden - actually goes all the way round, along the edge of the long, narrow pond, but you'd never tell from the photo!), but it's still full of colour (this year it's been lime greens, hot cerise and magenta pinks, maroons and deep purples). Still, everything will have died down, or been cut back, soon. And then comes the mammoth job of replanting the tubs with bulbs and pansies for the autumn/ winter.
In the background is Mr BW's workshop - the equivalent of my Inner Coven. And only slightly tidier. Until he met me, Mr BW was a minimalist. I have taught him to be a hoarder. Which means that when something needs to be made or repaired there is usually something in stock to serve the purpose. Which saves on fuel in getting to a place to buy whatever is needed, and on actually buying something.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
A Big Moan
Warning: this post may offend some people, particularly older ones.
I am sick to fucking death of constantly seeing pensioners on the news (again tonight) and in the papers protesting and moaning about their lot. Whinge, moan, criticise, blame. I rarely get as cross as I am about this issue.
Don't they understand that they are the lucky ones? No-one will ever have it so good again as far as pensions are concerned.
Will we get the amount they get in handouts, allowances, and freebies when we get to 60 and 65 respectively? Will we hell. There just won't be enough money in the pot to pay for it. It will never happen! The pension age is likely to be 70 or 75 for all by then anyway. There will be few final salary pension schemes left (Mr BW lost his overnight - don't think it can't happen to you - it can), so there will be none of the bumper retire-on-60%-of-your-final-salary-and-a-thumping-big-lump-sum-s around that there have been in the last 10 years.
Neither Mr BW's parents, nor mine, ever earnt huge salaries. My mother, as a teacher, was the best paid of all 4 of them. And she, like Mr BW's mother, didn't work when we were small children. But, they are all very comfortably off in their retirement because they were prudent with money, saved hard and invested wisely. I fully expect my parents to leave an estate valued in 7 figures (and the only inheritance either of them had was £22K a few years ago).
The country does not owe anyone a living.
It's time that both the current generation of OAPs woke up to this fact, and that people of my age and younger realised that they need to save more and spend less to guarantee their futures.
However, I suspect that those people, like us, who are careful with our money now, will end up subsidising those of our contemporaries who spend spend spend and live in debt. After all, The System won't allow them to starve, will it? *sighs*
Test your Witchiness
What Level of Witch are you
brought to you by Quizilla
(link nicked from Timothy (Sept 15th post - can't find any permalinks))
Luckily I scored the top level as I - erm- guessed more than one of the answers...
Venn diagrams
Has everyone except me already found this site that graphically maps a musical artist of your choice to others similar?
(link nicked from Random Mike)
Value Witch Tip
10% off at Boots.com just for today.
Includes eveything they do except "Chanel, Clarins, Lancome, Gift Cards, infant formula, other shops including mobile phones, kitchens, computers, music & DVDs and Boots Insurance, delivery & gift boxing charges."
P&P free if you spend over £40.
Don't forget to put in your Advantage Card number (that's the best loyalty card deal on the High Street by the way).
Thought for the day
The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Sometimes I'm glad...
... that I'm a blogger not a non-blogging partner of a blogger.
Do you know what I mean? The times when you do things that are daft and you just know that, were it the other way round, you'd find whatever embarrassing episode it was on your partner's blog the next day?
There were 3 or 4 of those sort of moments here over the weekend.
Fortunately, I've *coughs* forgotten what they were already.
Talking of that - what I said last week was too embarrassing - I've had a bit of a change of heart. Largely because I think I need an incentive to keep going. I'm already being pushed to take on more work than I really want to do, and I've already started eyeing up Wednesday mornings as 'reclaimable for work' time, rather than 'art' time. If I know I need to put something up here every week, I'm less likely to steal the time. Plus, I've finally worked out how to change the settings on my OfficeJet so that I can scan images straight into Photoshop and so easily get them down to a size that will reproduce OK here.
So, here's last week's art class effort. The task was to screw up a newspaper masthead, rip it in half, then draw what you saw, looking at the spaces between letters rather than the actual letters. Afterwards I wished I'd been brave enough to do it upside down as was suggested to us (although no-one did that) as I'm sure it would have been easier. My eye/brain was too distracted by what vast experience of perceiving the written form assumed should be there, rather than what was actually there.
Busy Bee W
Gawd I'm a busy Witch.
Just put Mr BW in a taxi to Heathrow, having run around all morning getting done all the things that need two of us, or that only he can do (eg removing the hens light to go off to be modified so it can provide light for the quails too (light boxes for birds - saves them getting SAD - one of us in this house with that tendency is more than enough), and the ironing).
Now I've got to get through a whole lot of other jobs before he gets back at the weekend. Including writing a very long report that needs to say that another professional is a complete and utter pillock, and has given such bad advice over the past 5 years that is has badly affected the course of a child's life, but nicely so I don't get sued.
Entries are going to be short this week.
Well... that's the plan...
Thought for the day
The blog, by the way, is not a diary. It is a cross between a postcard and a message in a bottle.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Betrayed by New Labour?
Greg Dyke gives his version of The World's Biggest Terrorist's Accomplice's actions.
The Truth will out...
Or Revenge is sweet?
(As Witchy always says, in these situations, all you have to do is wait.)
For those of you outside the UK, or who miss it:
"Greg Dyke lambasts Tony Blair, Alastair Campell and the Government. Again. He accuses them of destroying the trust of the British people by going to war on a false premise, running the country on spin and trying to undermine the impartiality of the BBC."
Saturday, September 18, 2004
The 65th Make Blue Witch Laugh Award
Today we have 3 contenders, each gaining one point.
Contender 1: drD:
Sunday, September 12, 2004What have we learnt this week?
Blue Witch admires M******t T******r. [ Fixation with blue, economic prudence... nah surely, she couldn't be - could she? ]
Not sure if I'm more concerned about being accused of being Bert the Trucker (Ray), Ruth Sheen (dave) or Maggie :)
Contender 2: Mr Piggy was one of us southerners up norf last weekend.
Doing the what comes naturally to pigs it seems ;) Not only did he manage to stay in a Travel Lodge and not get housekeeping barging in at 9am despite the 'Do not distub' notice on the door, but he managed not to get his car ticketed, clamped or towed away, even though it was parked outside a police station for 4 hours more than it should have been, without a ticket. I don't know how he manages to be that lucky. Particularly considering how horrible he is to poor bungle :)
As Mr Cloth Cap Man - (I'm gonna call him CCM from now) was up for work early in the morning, it was decided we would go back to Modern Fawlty Towers and get something to eat. I had had a little too much to drink, so left the car in the town centre with the intention of going in the morning to collect it, before the Traffic Wardens are released from their cages.
Contender 3: Mark:
For the first time in 2 weeks I have actually had a decent nights sleep, didn't wake up at all although I did have a bit of a funky dream involving Elsie. Something about her getting me a meeting with KL so I could become the head of some new IT strategy that is being put in place. It was all a bit surreal because everyone was on a beach and his office was under 2 palm trees, plus he had 2 naked female PA's and Elsie was complaining as she only had 1 naked male PA. But the even bigger shock was that I was naked too.... Scary...
And apologies to Elsie if I'm violating the Restricting Order in place by reproducing this here... ;)
And the winner is coming later. Having been away the last 2 weekends, and being the time of year that it is, we have lots of jobs to do in The Coven grounds.
Later: So that's the lawn mowed, nearly £70 of pansies, bulbs and small evergreen shrubs for the winter planting scheme purchased in a special Value place (what we bought would probably be about £150 in an ordinary garden centre), a quick reccy of an exclusive furniture store made (for ideas for the minimalistic new room), lots of deheading and putting away of summer items done, shelves moved and holes in walls drilled in readiness for the new extra fridge that is arriving on Friday (yep, I finally had enough of having everything crammed in whenever there were more than the 2 of us here and discovered that Lec make non-standard size fridges that will fit in the 51cm space hitherto occupied by the glass recycling bin in the in the utility), and... well, that's probably enough for one day, isn't it?
So, finally, the winner of this week's 2 points is Elsie's Toy-Boy-in-Waiting, Mark. I just have this wonderful image in my head, that keeps making me smile, of Elsie on some tropical island, assertively telling Uncle Ken that she isn't doing any more work until she has her full complement of staff ;)
Friday, September 17, 2004
Take it away
Mr BW is off to China next week to hold interviews for the Head of a new China Office that he has been given the task of setting up.
As this isn't something that he's ever done, from scratch, before, we've been discussing the possible formats, and I've been contributing what I know about personnel selection testing, which actually appears to be rather more than the numbskulls nice people in the HR department, despite the fact that I've largely made it up as I've gone along when I've been pulled into designing selection tasks and interviewing for senior roles within education departments and headteachers jobs etc in the past.
I was angling for a free trip to China, to assist Mr BW with the process, and even offered my 'expertise' for free, but, alas, it wasn't to be. Mr BW's Director, he said 'no'. So I shall be all alone in The Coven next week, trying not to drink anything from the Witchy Wine Cellar and so break our 'no alcohol until the end of October' pledge. Which will be very hard.
I have been slightly cheered up by a couple of emails that Mr BW has sent me during the afternoon.
He has spent some of today reviewing the letters of application in readiness for the trip. Considering that one of the major requirements for the post is "Excellent skills in spoken and written English," the following phrases just shouldn't have been included, should they?
"I very much want the poison (position) being offered"
"...my ability to write English is out of problem"
Part 2: So what was it?
If you haven't already done so, I'd suggest that you read Part 1 just below first.
So, for anyone who fell asleep reading the last episode, we were up to the bit where a friend and I had joined a weekly mixed media art class, and chanced upon an excellent teacher of art.
Now a little reminiscence.
Many years ago, when I was teaching, at one point I had special responsibility for art and display throughout a large junior school. I had no particular expertise or training in this area, just an interest, and no-one else wanted the job. These were pre-National Curriculum days, and there were no schemes of work in existence in that school (which, although in a rural town, was in a SPA - Social Priority Area - that is, the kids were considered rough, and the parents rougher - although, quite frankly, by today's standards, it would be 'normal' for most neighbourhoods).
Most of these children came from homes where aesthetics and creativity had to stand aside in favour of basic survival. These were the days before easily-available-credit-for-all, and most families lived hand-to-mouth. 90% of them qualified for free school meals, and 80% for uniform grants.
Most of these children had no conception of art, and little previous experience of being creative.
So, the first thing I did was to teach them how to see. How to look at things. I did this through observational drawing. Taking natural objects and getting them to represent them using a variety of media. I taught them to focus firstly on one small part, then on the bigger whole, and slowly come to appreciate size, and structure, and relative position, and so on.
I invented so many different ways of developing their perceptual skills that the County Art Adviser heard about my work on the advisers' grapevine and paid me a visit.
He spent two whole days with me. He even took me to the pub on the evening of the second day and bought me dinner.
Then he wrote a booklet based on what I'd told and shown him. It was distributed to every school in the county. The DES (I think that's what it was called in those days anyway - it's changed its name so many times that it's hard to be sure) got sent a copy. Everyone thought it was wonderful. BUT he didn't give me any of the credit. Not even an acknowledgment. Bastard. I think that this was the point at which I realised that there was no such thing as a free dinner. I was 23 at the time and didn't dare challenge him or expose him. Experiences like this made me hard, and cynical. And aware of plagiarism.
Anyway. We're nearly at the point of this now, hang on in there...
Until yesterday, I thought I was a bit of an expert on observational drawing, and how to develop skills in that area.
And then the new art teacher got a piece of A4 paper, drew a circle on it, and asked us what it was.
Everyone came up with things like a plate, a face, a sun, a moon, a button, a dustbin lid.
But no-one came up with anything that had it serving as a porthole, or a space to be looked through.
Which nicely demonstrated the Western tendency to see 'an object' rather than perceiving spaces between or around an object, which is a more Eastern perception.
Once one starts looking at what isn't there rather than what is there, one sees things in a completely new light.
And this little realisation so linked in with the other larger realisation from last weekend's course. The one that I'm going to get round to writing about one day soon :)
But, the observant amongst you will have noticed that when I tried to repeat the exercise here, I made a fatal error. I failed to realise that, by presenting it as I did, I wasn't re-creating the original exercise of perceiving what was present on a piece of A4 paper. So it was unsurprising that some of you did see it as a window onto something rather than a circular object. (Update: on re-reading, I can see that I expressed that really badly - and thanks to Harriet for pointing out that prior training or experience may also have played a part in how people conceptualised it.)
I'm half tempted to steal an idea from Harriet and scan and post my arty efforts every week, but I am very aware that there are lots of very artistic people around these parts, and, much as I'd like to be, I'm never going to be more than a very poor dabbler. And I think I'd be too embarrased.
So what was it?
The facetious answer would, of course, be, "It's whatever you make it out to be".
So... that's exactly what it was :)
There was a bit more to it than that though.
This is rather a long story, so bear with me...
I mentioned once or twice last year that as part of my 'get back to doing things I used to enjoy' and 'keep the stress under control' plans I started doing a watercolour painting class on a Monday lunchtime.
I stuck two terms of this, in a room with very poor light, with a playgroup session in the next room (a background of screaming toddlers is not conducive to art, I hope you'll agree), and a tutor who did nothing but moan about her personal problems and personal resentments, be totally negative about almost everything, and generally destroy any confidence I ever had in my ability in this area. Most weeks I felt like giving her a bill for 'professional services' at the end of the session, such was the level of therapeutic communication that she demanded.
She was an excellent artist, but, alas, not a teacher. Not even a mediocre one. To me, the first requirement for someone teaching a basic art course is to be an excellent communicator, able to explain concepts and present them for practice in stimulating ways, and then to provide positive feedback and supportive tips for development, pitched at the right level for where an individual's learning is up to. There were a lot of absolute beginners in the class, and the tutor spent most of her time with them, leaving me and my friend (who had previously done a bit together) largely to our own devices. When she finally got round to us, she'd make comments such as, "Lovely!" or, "That's fine!" rather than offer constructive feedback.
In retrospect, I should have gone with my initial feeling and left the class after the first session and voiced my concerns to the Head of Centre (it was an LEA controlled/ subsidised course). However, we kept thinking and hoping that it would get better. But it didn't.
I only continued to go for 2 terms because the good friend of mine who'd persuaded me to go in the first place wanted to carry on going, and, having had a major car accident the year before, was unable to get there unless I took her.
However, about Easter time, I finally had enough when the so-called-tutor decided to 'improve' on something I was doing, and completely and irrevocably messed it up. If there's one thing that is guaranteed to make me really angry it is someone doing something to something creative I am working on without asking me if they can. I was so angry that I didn't (couldn't) actually say anything. For me to be at a loss for words is a very rare occurrence. I think the look on my face must have said it all, and she did have the grace to apologise, but, that was it. The final straw. We never went again. Wasted a whole term's fees, as we'd had to pay for the whole year up-front.
Sometime over the summer, on a day when I was very busy, the same friend rang me to say that she'd found another art course, this time more local, and covering mixed media, and would I like to go with her. She assured me that it was a 'pay-by-the-week-for-weeks-when-you-go' course, and that we could leave at any time if the course didn't meet our expectations.
And so it was that, against my better judgment, I found myself at session one of this new course on Wednesday morning.
The tutor is excellent. This time, a qualified teacher who is used to teaching A-level and degree level art students. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that she's one of the best teachers I've ever encountered. And, believe me, I've encountered/ observed thousands of teachers in the 21 years I've been working in education. If I could distil her skills and sell the potion I'd be a millionaire within a month.
Within half an hour she'd restored my faith and I'd learnt more than I did in the two terms of last year's course.
Ooops, this is going on longer than I thought it would....
Part 2 (and the explanation of the image) later - I need to get some work done first!
Thought for the day
Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Shoes and shapes
Today I had to wear shoes for the first time in - oh, probably 4 months. I hate it when the weather and the occasion (work!) dictate that I have to abandon my barefootedness/ sandaledness and squeeze and constrain my summer-spread feet back into the rigid structures that we call 'shoes'. As far as I'm concerned, that's one of the major indicators of 'autumn' approaching.
It felt really weird driving along in shoes. When I'm wearing sandals I just slip them off and drive barefooted. I'm sure I get about 3 more miles to each gallon of diesel in the summer (even with the aircon on, which is meant to reduce mpg) as you have so much more feeling over the fuel being sucked through the system, and can adjust pressure accordingly.
I'm smiling happily tonight because I handled a very difficult situation today better than I could ever have hoped. And I didn't do a single spell, rather just tried out a few principles learnt last weekend. Sorry, I'm sure I'll get round to writing about that soon, rather than just alluding mysteriously to it. Mr BW is looking forward to hearing about it too, so don't feel too left out.
Oh - you want to know about the shape thingy below do you?
Right.
All I'll say for now is interesting. And it's doubly interesting because what I'd envisaged would happen didn't happen, because of my perception of the task, which was related to how it was set for me yesterday, rather than what I set for you today. Field dependency. And those last two words have nothing to do with dogging either ;)
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Recent News
drD says it all. Brilliant :)
Inconsiderate bastards to motorists as well as foxes.
5 mile traffic jam on the A12 tonight because of them.
Set the hounds on them I say.
Do you get the impression that I am anti-hunting?
It's all got to go...
We've now lived at The Coven longer than I've ever lived anywhere since I left my parental home.
I'm beginning to understand why people move house (it's to buy new furniture and soft furnishings innit?) and why older people (who've never moved) have houses that look like museums / timewarps, depending on your point of view.
I really struggle with the idea of getting new furniture or major appliances just because the old ones aren't the model they're currently selling. If it ain't broke or worn out, keep it, is my motto. The earth's resources, and landfill space, are finite, after all.
Or rather, that has been my modus operandi until now.
By a weird quirk of fate (yes, yet another one), I found myself staying the weekend with a friend of a woman who normally offers B&B, but couldn't, and took pity on me, so asked her friend to take me instead. Said friend was more than happy to have me staying (2 nights for £24, Value if ever I found it), and opened her home and her kitchen to me, even though she didn't know me from Adam (well, Eve).
She was about my age, and it was quickly apparent that we shared similar interests, tastes (natural neutral colours, pebbles and blue glass), and philosophy on life.
She was single, but the total floor area of her home was probably around the same as The Coven. But she'd been much more creative with her space. Like me, she works from home, but, unlike me, she doesn't have mounds of paperwork that she has to store. Well, if I was being honest, I don't need to store as much as I do, but I'm a klepto, and draw security from having thousands of thin slices of tree within arms' reach.
One of her rooms (otherwise a bedroom) was a largly uncluttered area. Space, just filled with rugs, cushions, and a few choice natural objects. Just a really warm area for doing anything in.
At first I was puzzled by this, but then I thought what a good idea it was. Somewhere to go to have space, and time, and take whatever one wanted to take, into an uncluttered space, to do whatever one felt like.
I wished we could make a space like that.
Over the weekend away, it slowly dawned on me that we could make a space like that.
How?
By reclaiming the room that is currently a spare bedroom.
It's a comparatively large room, over 10 feet, by 16 feet. For a long time I've been unhappy about that room. The furniture was state of the art 14 years ago, but is now just tired (although there is nothing 'wrong' with it, so it didn't merit being changed under my rules above), the bed was a cheapy one we bought when we had zero money when we moved in here 9 years ago (and I wouldn't care to sleep in it, so why should I expect other people to?), but haven't got round to replacing, and the wardrobe has slowly been taken over as a honey store as our production/ customer base has grown. And Mr BW's honey pot collection has slowly crept out of the kitchen into there.
I worked out that in the last year that room has been occupied with guests for probably no more than 25 nights. 25/365 = less than 7% of the time. And we were tying up about a tenth of our living area for that!
So, I've arranged to get rid of it all. And a few other things too. In the free-ads in the local paper this week will be one double bed, one wardrobe, one bookcase, 2 sofas and a bedside table. Just for starters.
And then we'll see what happens.
Thought for the day
If I am not for me, then who is for me?
If I am just for me, then who am I?
And if not now, then when?
- Jewish saying
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Strange times
Even Mr BW hasn't the faintest idea what I'm going on about of late, on here, he told me this evening. He looked slightly worried too. I reassured him that it is something in the blogland air and nothing to be concerned about.
And indeed I've noted that there is plenty of spooky synchronicity around blogland, and elsewhere. Three times today I was thinking about someone and they rang me within a couple of minutes.
And I've just got to the craving alcohol stage, having not had any for 8 days now. If Mr BW wasn't here I know I'd be slurping up right now. I'm craving chocolate too, and I don't even particularly like chocolate. But, doesn't the evening pass slowly when your brain isn't numbed by chemicals? It had become such a habit that I almost don't know what to do with myself now...
Some background
I have a great belief that particular things, or people, are put in front of us at particular times for a reason.
We then have a choice. To consider and act on what is being proffered to us, or to ignore it.
If it is the right time for something to happen as a result of the particular meeting or opportunity to enable us to make changes and move forward along the path called life (or self-actualisation, or development - the terminology is unimportant), then we do so.
If we ignore the opportunity, the chances are that it is not a conscious decision to ignore it, but rather that the time is not right for us to recongise it as the opportunity it is and to act on it. In this case, we continue along our present path until some other thing, or person, that is put in front of us, resonates enough with where we're at to make us want to act.
This could be a prelude to something... but I'm not sure if I've got the time to work it out enough to write it down. That is, I'm not sure whether the time is right, yet, but I need to put down the background in case I get round to trying, later.
Monday, September 13, 2004
How to build a movable quail enclosure, in step-by-step pictures
Hope that's enough detail for you to make one at home, Blue Peter stylee :)
Only problem is, it's been dark for 2 hours now and the little darlings won't go into the house bit... we've put a torch in a plastic bag in there to entice them in, but they seem uninterested. When we first put them in this morning, they were shut in the house end for 3 hours, and they went out then in several times then.
Oh the Joy of Quail.
But, a second one seems to have started laying today.
What kind of Witch are you?
You are a water witch. Beautiful and intuitive, you draw your power from the water. You can be tranquil and terrible at one and the same time and might be described as "moody." You appreciate literature and may be a poet/writer. Graceful and powerful as the water itself, the rest of us envy your ability to love and be loved by others.
What kind of 'witch' are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
At last...
*jumps up and down excitedly*
BT Sales are still telling me that they can't supply broadband to The Coven. But Bulldog's website today claims they can! £20 per month for unlimted usage sounds good to me...
Don't tell me my spells don't work :)
A way
It was good spending a weekend with thirteen other people who, while being very different people to me in many ways, share my belief in personal happiness and connection above materialism and consumerism. A relief, really, because sometimes I feel very alone, in the real world.
For the first time in about 13 years (that is, since I moved from the West Country up here), on Sunday morning I woke up in a strange bed (on my own before those of you with blue minds ask... although I reckon there would have been an opportunity had I been looking... ;)), in a city I'd only ever been to once before (and blimey, aren't things cheap in Manchester? You can buy 4 drinks and have change from a fiver, and have a large curry meal and drinks in a group of 6 for £11 a head, including tip!) and my head was clear, calm and not panicking about 'things' and 'stuff'.
Just occasionally something (in this case, a communicative idea that, in itself, seems very obvious) comes along that sends my thinking down a completely different path. It doesn't happen very frequently these days. In fact, I can't actually remember the last time I had such a eureka moment.
At the moment I feel really enthused and excited and am madly re-processing a lot of things. I need to take some time to sort out some (practical and physical) things that will enable me to move around some (mental) obstacles that have been blocking my route to peace.
Somehow, it feels like the last piece in the puzzle that I've been struggling to put back together since the picture on the front of the jigsaw was wiped off 7 and a half years ago when the whole of my head fell apart. I finally know what I need and, hopefully, how to begin to get it.
Friday, September 10, 2004
The 64th Make Blue Witch Laugh Award
Early again this week as I'm off to Manchester on a course to try out my new toy this weekend.
Always one to be ahead of the game with gadgets to which I can see a point (ie ones which save me time and money, and which I can see becoming the tool of the future - hence why I've had a mobile phone since 1992, a Palm for 5 years, and use voice recognition software), it didn't take much demonstrating/ persuading from Pilot Mark who I met last weekend to convince me that portable satellite navigation systems were now good enough for Fussy Witches.
So, this Witch is now electronically tagged. And I've seen the future :)
(my post on that was the one I lost last night - I'll write more about it when I return - for the moment you'll have to be content with knowing that the best bit about it is that one's current location is marked by a BW Blue Pointy Hat :)).
The Award this week is going to be much to the consternation of some people who were consternated by the change in normal style round here while I was away hen-napping at the beginning of the week (they obviously wanted more hens and quail ;)) I'm giving this week's Award jointly to Alan and Elsie for their little daleks beyond the call of duty episodes:
Introduction: Vworp. Indeed.
Episode 1: Into The Coven.
Episode 2: In the Garden of Earthly Pleasures.
Episode 3: Elsie Pulls It Off.
Episode 4: Trembling on the Aga.
Episode 5: Escape to Danger.
Episode 6: Music of the Spheres.
And one point too for Dave for keeping up with events as they happened with his comment on the mileage game (which nearly got me chucked out of Tavistock library on Tuesday when I read it):
469.8 miles.More if you have to stop at all the services on the way back because Mr BW has eaten too much cake.
Actually, make that 2 points as I think his was the closest guess to the real mileage of somewhere between 650 and 700 (I forgot to look, doh!).
Apologies to those people who've sent me email recently and haven't had any/ a proper response, and to everyone I usually read that I haven't had much time to visit/comment this week. It feels very strange. Will catch up with you all next week, I promise. In the meantime, have a good weekend in the rain.
Special message for Mr BW: I've put a mark on the whisky bottle, so I'll know if you cheat, and don't work too hard while I'm away (PS I've added 12 to the list of jobs, hope that's OK? :)
And there are spells going on for some people...we want comments, we want blogs...
Birthday week
So, it's happy re-birthday to my couturier and to him (*contemplates "Blogs in Stasis" reduced list and smiles happily at how well her spells are doing*), happy belated second blogday for Wednesday to my good friend and blog daddy, and happy real birthday to him, for whom I've done a special mind-altering spell to save him from having to keep doing his own ;)
Weighty issues
Get fit and eat healthily programmes are replacing the old wave of house and garden makeover ones I see. Well, I didn't see actually, because that kind of programme holds no interest at all for me. Next we'll have more programmes on managing money and debt, you just wait.
I've been doing my own bit to break some habitual patterns (that's all that being unhealthy and unfit is all about after all).
Yesterday afternoon I swam 2,000 metres (100 lengths). For someone who ached for 2 days after doing 10 just 6 weeks ago, that's quite good I thought.
Proves that swimming a few times a week (that's been variable - sometimes 6 times, sometimes 2, depending on how busy I've been) actually works. I still felt like death warmed up all the time though, so we've given up drinking for a bit. Last time we did that (May 2003?) we felt better, had more energy and lost weight. For us it works best if we do a whole month, but due to social and birthday things this month and next, we hadn't got a whole month. So we just decided to be more sensible for the next, well, however long it takes until a crisis comes along that needs alcohol to reframe it :)
We eat very healthily, apart from the cheese and wine. So, they had to go, for a few weeks at least, as I've put on nearly a stone since I came back from Australia in February. For someone whose weight has been constant within a half-stone range for the last 7 years, and is the wrong side of 40, that was bad.
On Wednesday I bought a new set of scales (from Argos with Nectar points, ha!) as I'd been aware that the (very) old ones were over-weighing. Well, they were over-weighing me by 4 lbs, but Mr BW was cross because they have a smaller platform so he can't stand, with his large feet, in the way he'd learnt to stand on the old ones to ensure the minimum weight appeared on the dial (have to have dial scales, hate electronic scales). So, I've already lost 8 pounds from where I nominally was on Tuesday night when we got back from the West Country.
TV programmes? Who needs them?
Thursday, September 9, 2004
****
Well, that's the first entry I've actually lost in 9 months of using MT. And, of course, I'd just pasted something else onto the clipboard over my usual saved copy as I thought it was OK.
Lots of swear words and I'll redo it later.
Our 6 new children
They do now have proper feeders and drinkers, as they insisted on paddling in their drinking water and dust bathing in their food. Alas they are dim. "Mr BW," I said, "these new children of ours are somewhat lacking in intellect." "Well," said Mr BW, "if hens have brains the size of a pea, given the size of quails, think how small their brains must be." Ah yes, that would explain it then.
They're about the size of thrushes, and go 'cheep' all the time. Especially during the 4 hour ride from their hatchery back to The Coven in the Blue Broomstick. Which, incidentally, still did 50mpg even though we had the aircon on full pelt all weekend and didn't spare the horses. And DAMN I forgot to check the mileage when we got home, so I don't know exactly how many miles we did, which sort of fucks the guess the mileage competition, doesn't it? It was around 650-700 anyway. Someone work out who was nearest, please.
They are Spanish and Italian quail - egg layers - as opposed to Japanese quail which are for unspeakable things that will never happen to our babies (I think I've remembered that right...).
Mr BW now has to make them a house and a pen. In fact, he bought the wood today, but damson picking and jelly making prevented him starting on that project yet. They are going to live in the Coven Orchard inside the hens' electrified perimeter fence, but, within their own enclosed run as they are supreme escapologists. I suppose at a pinch we could use the leftover Bright Blue D'Alek as a house for them? Witches recycle everything after all...
Quail lay eggs from around 7 weeks old. The darkest is 7 weeks old and is already laying (we had an egg by the time we got home, and another today), but the others are only 5 or 6 weeks old, so won't start laying for another couple of weeks. Can't eat the eggs yet as they need a few days to coagulate properly and for their membranes to shrink a bit from the shell so they can be peeled once hard-boiled.
And yes dave, you can have a winner's prize of miniature egg and matchstick size chips next time you come over. But Edward can't have quail for dinner, nor sport, before you ask.
My reasoning for having quails is that I love quails' eggs, but I fear that they are now being mass-produced to meet growing demand, and the birds kept in poor conditions (like battery or barn hens). My suspicions were confirmed by the breeder from whom we got ours - he's breeding literally thousands for a national egg wholesaler who is supplying all the major supermarkets. Whilst the breeder's facilities were truly excellent, I don't think you can guarantee that the places the birds end up will also be so. I'd rather know how my egg producers have been kept and what they have eaten, as I do with my hens. Plus they are very sweet. The newly-hatched ones are the size of 50p pieces. And they do tinier "cheep"s.
It was weird - I'd been looking for a quail breeder since the beginning of the year, to no avail. Then, catching up on reading magazines, in the bar of the inn where we were staying, I saw an article on keeping quail, and the name of a breeder in a place just 5 miles off our route home. So we stood in the road outside the inn (where there was just a one bar phone signal) on Monday night, and, through our several-pints-of-organic-cider-induced haze, made arrangements to collect some on Tuesday afternoon. When we met the breeder, it turned out that he used to work at a place just 3 miles from The Coven (some 200-odd miles from where he now is). Small world.
Wednesday, September 8, 2004
Unattended Covens
Of course, being Mr BW, the first thing he did on returning from our Devonian exploits last night was to wander round the garden. Having lamented the death of a few nice plants due to the inexplicable inability of our next-door-but-one neighbours (who were meant to be looking after The Coven during our 4 day absence) to notice wilting plants and rehydrate them (it wasn't hard - we'd left the hoses and watering cans strategically postitioned), he found a dead Bright Blue D'Alek down near the compost heaps.
And, of course, being Mr BW, he just had to fiddle with it and attempt to get it working again. Of course, as it was Blue, there would never be any danger to us from it, as everything BW Blue is controllable. Well, as long as you have Witchy Powers. Which might explain what's been going on round here in my absence...
Even Mr BW couldn't get it going before it was time for bed, so he left it ready to be fiddled with again tonight.
This morning, the Bright Blue D'Alek was zooming menacingly up and down the Coven Lawn, mumbling something that I can't repeat, with a handbag dangling from its thingy. Totally, totally out of control.
It's taken me until now to prise The Ginger Familiar from the driving seat. I only managed it by floating one of our 6 new children in front of the D'Alek, which lured her out, and then quickly stuffing new child back into its holding pen, and putting 3 huge lumps of stone on top to keep them safe.
I did a quick spell and the Bright Blue D'Alek is now in the Inner Coven with me. As there are steps down, that should contain it for a while (it's one of the ones without the modification to do steps by the way).
There is more, but it will have to wait as those things that they thought were balls, well, they don't like being poked, and they've hatched, 90 years early, and they desperately need attention...
Tuesday, September 7, 2004
Blue's Best
We've done all sorts of spells and stuff. We're trying to get her back, really we are. But we're not that good at spelling. Well, I am, but Elsie can't spell for toffee, mainly due to all the gin.
In the mean time, enjoy a picture of Buxton, the Blue Cat from the classic 1971 movie "Dougal and the Blue Cat".
[Guest written by the Doctor. Still trapped here. Darn.]
Monday, September 6, 2004
Episode 6: Music of the Spheres
"Doctor, What is it?" she asked, her voice whining nasally. I made a note that on the way back from Bluewater, I should really push her out of an airlock, or send her back in time on a doomed freighter that was destined to crash in to the earth, blowing up the dinosaurs.
"What's what?" I asked, grumpily.z
"Those balls, Doctor."
I checked my trousers, but I couldn't see what she meant. Then I saw the 20 metallic globes around the TARDIS.
"It's not good," I said. "Not good at all."
In the late 1960s, I travelled through time and space with Jamie, a strapping young lad who wore a kilt. He was very popular with the mums, I remember, and some of the dads, and allegedly Joe Orton, although that's by the by. He sprang in to my mind just then because of something he used to say. "Och," yes, that was it.
We also fought the dreadful Yeti together. Twice. They were robots, you see. Each controlled by a shiny metal sphere. Could that be what we were seeing here in the coven grounds? I walked towards the nearest one and poked it with my umbrella. It did nothing.
"I think they're dormant," I said.
"I think you're an idiot," said Elsie.
"Hmmmm," I said, thumbing my lapel.
"Will you stop doing that?" asked Elsie, now sounding decidedly narked. "You're always saying 'hmmm' like that and it really gets on my nerves."
"Ah," said I. "But I know what these balls are now. At first I thought they might be Yeti control spheres. But they're not. They're just... decorative."
"Oh," said Elsie, looking dejected. "Can we pinch a couple?"
"No, I think we better not."
And so I strode over the spheres and opened the TARDIS door, with Elsie a few steps behind me, having paused to grab some fresh vegetables for our tea. Elsie, it must be said, makes a mean vegetable curry. We rushed inside. And looked around.
"Oh dear," I said.
"Oh dear indeed," said Elsie.
Inside, everything was blue. The blue walls were lit from behind by a soft blue light. The blue control console had a blue time rotor in the middle of it. The video screens were not blue. They were pink. It was like stepping in to a sketch from Dead Ringers. Changing Rooms.
"I think this blue is really really nice," said Elsie. I looked at her, saw the glazed look in her eyes and new then that I had lost her forever. Her mind had lost whatever precious little grip on sanity it had ever known.
"Bum," I said.
"Command not understood," said the TARDIS.
I raced over to the central console. Glances at a few pink screens told me all I needed to know. The operating system had been overwritten with Movable Type and someone had installed voice recognition software.
"Must... find... value..." murmured Else, drool dripping down her chin. She'd certainly been affected by something powerful, and I didn't have the time to find a cure for her. Now that she wasn't looking for shoes she was almost bearable. What with her being broken, and the TARDIS being broken, this was shaping up to be one of the worst Sundays for weeks.
"By Jet Set Piggy's sweat-soaked lunchbox," I cried in desparation.
"Destination accepted," said the soft voice of the TARDIS. The door slammed shut and the belching groaning noise that signified take-off started. I had more things to worry about than the fact that dematerialisation sounded like a mummy d'Alek and a daddy d'Alek making little d'Aleks, though. Piggy's lunch box sounded like a terrible place to go...
But in a sense, I thought as I listened to Elsie quietly whingeing, moaning and lecturing, I supposed it served me right for daring to meddle with blue forces that I didn't understand...
THE END.
[Guest-written by The Doctor, Gallifrey, Constellation of Kasterborus]
NEXT WEEK: On Doctor Who takes over Weblogs
Assuming that we escape from Jet Set Piggy, we'll be breaking in to Purple Pen. Elsie will be helping e accessorise and trying to make off with the Boff, while I will be plumping cushions, teaching the Purple Offspring how to make chocolate mousse and getting incredibly drunk on absinthe.
Episode 5: Escape to Danger
The doctor stamped on my foot and I fell to the floor behind the Inner Coven door. Angrily I pulled my small emergency shoe cleaning kit out of my bag and started to scrub away at the honey on my suede shoes. "These are ruined! And these replaced the Gucci slingbacks ruined in Androzani" The Doctor was silent, unusually silent even for him (he thought that it was sexy to be moody and silent, and then wondered why he was never invited to parties). I looked up.