Blue Witch

Etiquette

Probably an outdated concept to most people, but...

I think it's bad manners to send FOTCR™ cards out before the beginning of December.

We have this morning received our first - and it was posted 2 days ago.

And it has glitter on it.

Thought for the day

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper.

- Robert Frost

Titlism

The over-concern of some people with their job title amuses me.

In recent weeks, Mr BW has been getting flack from some of his team who, following a restructuring, now wish to be known as [Job Department] Managers rather than [Job Department] Co-ordinators. My opinion is that he should let them be called whatever they want, as it costs nothing and is seems likely to be worth more to them than a hefty payrise.

However, there is a fine line between a sensible job title and when things go too far.

For example:

Earlier I received an email about the possibility of leading a session on a training day being put together by a private specialist facility in an area where I have some expertise. The email was signed with the person's name and their title ("Highly Specialist [Name of profession]").

Now, while the term "Specialist" does frequently exist in front of that particular professional role, the addition of the "Highly" certainly does not. In fact, it smacks of someone who has a slight, erm, complex, wouldn't you say?

I have personal experience of the person concerned, and not in a good way, which the person had clearly forgotten about when asking me to help dig them out of a hole (the course they are looking for input on has already been nationally advertised).

So, I politely replied to the email saying it wasn't something I'd be interested in doing, and signing myself, "Blue Witch, [Name of Profession] (Without Ego)"

Sometimes my audacity and complete disregard for convention and 'authority' surprises even me. Hehehe, Bad Witch, I'm feeling mischievous today :)

Oh my poor fingertips.

It started on Sunday afternoon when I did some hand sewing of wool through thick materials (a nice cr@zy patchw0rk cushion cover, started in a craft class in the summer, that I am determined to finish) and ended up with right hand thumb and middle finger damage (what do the regular sewers amongst you use to prevent this sort of injury - there are so many new products on the market since I last did serious textiles that I am totally coinfused?). Then on Sunday evening I cut the tip of my right forefinger on a piece of paper, right along the print line, and it just won't close up. On Monday night I burnt my remaining two good right hand fingertips on a dish of cauliflower cheese straight out of the Aga (oh, and my already-injured middle finger also got a roasting in the same incident, presumably for good measure). Yesterday morning I cut my left forefinger on a potato peeler while peeling a mango, and later jammed my left ring and little fingers in the car door (don't ask me how because I still can't work it out). My left thumb has a thorn in it that I can't get out (which is unsurprising as I can't see a bloody thing until tomorrow when hopefully my new optician will have my £1200 worth (that is not a typo) of new glasses and contact lenses in (I must remember to put magnesium sulpahte paste on it tonight to draw it out). My last remaining uninjured finger - my left middle finger - appears to have gone numb at the tip for no reason I can think of. Mr BW says it's out of sympathy for its friends.

Whilst on the subject of fingerprints... WHY has there not been a huge outcry about the introduction of mobile fingerprinting? ID cards by the back door. And don't get me started on how many millions of pounds have already been wasted on that daft scheme, or the 5.4 billion that it will cost over the next 10 years. That's as much UK taxpayers' money as has already been wasted in Iraq.

Thought for the day

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.

- Hermann Hesse

Consumer Power and Value

I discovered yesterday that the Manager of Nearest Large Town Sainsbury's (the flagship store in this area) has bowed to customer pressure and is ignoring the offical policy line that customers must do the cashier's job and swipe/insert their own payment and points cards. A victory for consumer power and common sense. See, I told you so :)

Also at Sainsbury's, until Saturday you can enjoy 25% off wine, sparkling wine (and champagne), and fortified wine (eg sherry, port), if you buy at least 6 bottles (which can be mixed).

They already have some superb half-price FOTCR™ offers on reds and whites that are normally £7.49-£9.99 a bottle, so stock up now. They are also doing 5p off per litre of fuel until Sunday, so if you pay with a cashback credit card, use a Nectar card, and avail yourself of the fuel discount, you can actually get a third off. Choose carefully and you can drink £10 wine for £3.40 a bottle. This offer is also available online (although you have to order in whole cases there - but they do a mixed case if you're not fussy about what you get).

I bought 31 bottles for just over 80 quid (their quite gluggable own label white Côtes de Gascogne (predominately Colombard grape) comes in at just £1.89 a bottle with all the discounts!!!), and several people remarked that I must be having a party. I didn't like to disillusion them, and, at that price, and with a wine store for several hundred bottles, I shall be along for some more before Sunday. If you happen to have 2 cars and buy lots, don't forget to split your shopping into £50 lots and you'll get one fuel voucher on each lot.

But why, oh why, have the wine makers started to put the Chardonnay grape into almost every bottle of lower-priced white? Years ago, Chardonnay was drinkable (particularly the unoaked Australian varieties). Now it's sunk to the lowest common palate. And I just won't touch anything (with the possible exception of champagne which is over-rated anyway) with it in. Yuck.

Thought for the day

When one has much to put in them, a day has a hundred pockets.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

Banishment

Building on ideas gleaned from elsewhere in blogland, and because it's Friday, and because I can't remember anyone having done this before (although that's probably my memory and not the fact that no-one's done it before), and because I was reminded yesterday that I hadn't had a chunter about my dislike of a particular supermarket chain for ages (they've recently been allowed to open up yet another mega store - selling just clothes and household goods - in a large Local Town, bringing their store total in that town to 4), today is What would you like to put in BW's Room 101? day.

Mine, of course, is T£$co, for crimes against humanity (in its broadest sense).
See eg here for details.

(Details of Room 101, together with a list of what has been suggested in the past here)

Customer Service?

Having finally finished shining my Aga (the only housework I deign to do myself in a year, and it only gets done once a year when The Beast has its annual service, which is just as well because it takes 3 hours), and then convinced the Bui1ding 1nspector to issue the Comp1etion Certificate (but don't think that means things are actually complete, oh no, and he was going to insist that the faulty slat on the extractor fan in the shower room was changed before he'd sign off on the project, until I assured him that really I did have the means to ensure that myself - that is, a hefty final payment still to be made, if and when I am ever satisfied, which, quite frankly, seems most unlikely at present), I nipped into town yesterday afternoon to have a quick dash round the market and get some essentials from Sainsbury's.

I get the inside story on goings on there from Cleaner BW who does a couple of shifts a week. So, I know that hot isues at present (ie those that cusotmers are complaining about) are the length of queues and the difficulty getting into the car park because a barrier is broken and the usual attendant is on long-term sick leave. I generally have a moan to a manager about the hot issues, just to add more weight to the other customers' complaints, because I believe that there are often criticial numbers who need to voice disquiet to the management before anything gets done.

However, on reaching the head of the checkout queue, I discovered that Cleaner BW had failed in her duty to warn me of their latest penny-pinching ruse.

After making the cashier pack my bags (even though I only had a few things, I still think that as I'm paying Sainsbury's price rather than Aldi's, I'll get Value) I handed over my Nectar Card, car park ticket and credit card. The cashier threw my credit card down on the conveyor belt and said, "Put it in the machine then!"

"I beg your pardon?" I exclaimed icily. "We ain't allowed to 'andle cards no more, you 'ave to put it in the machine yerself!" Like hell, I thought, that's your job. But, I smiled sweetly and said, "I've no idea which way it would go, so I give you my full permission to handle my card to put it in the machine." She was about to argue with me, but her eyes met mine and she thought better of it. "PIN number!" She ordered. "Please!" I added, and then decided that she'd already been rude enough to deserve a BW Lecture. "And, for future refernece, it's a 'PIN', not a 'PIN number', because PIN stands for 'personal identification number', so if you say 'PIN number' rather than just 'PIN' you're asking for a 'personal identification number number', which is daft. Like stutttering really."

"Take yer card!" she barked. I left it in the machine. "What's all this about not being able to handle cards any more?" I asked. "Dunno, we just do as we're told, we don't ask questions." I thought she'd deserved another of my pet theories. "The trouble is," I started, "that because people don't question things, those people who had the idea in the first place don't get to think that maybe it's not the good idea they thought, so, that you at the checkouts are left dealing with customers who aren't happy." I paused. "Like me." I removed my card from the machine, slowly, turned it over and looked at it, slowly, then put it even more slowly into my purse. "Hmmm," I said, "hmmm."

I turned to leave, and by some quirk of fate, the Checkout Captain (and what a stupid non-English term that is, isn't it?) was passing. I asked her to explain the new policy.

"It's all to do with this new Chip and PIN," she said, "the onus is now on the customer to take responsibility for their own cards, and we're not legally allowed to touch them any more." I was tempted to say "Cobblers!" but as I had an audience from about 6 tills either way, I was more polite. "I think you've misunderstood Chip and PIN, and, what's more, I think you've also failed to understand the Management reasoning for this new policy. It has nothing whatsoever to do with security. I suspect it has much more to do with economics. It's to do with saving 5 seconds of cashier time per transaction. How many customers do Sainsbury's have in a year?" "Erm, I don't know" she admitted. "Well," I continued, "let's say, for argument's sake, that 20 million people shop here every week. That's roughly 1,000 million customer visits per year. If only half of them use a credit or debit card, then that is 500 million lots of 5 seconds saved. I can't do that sort of sum in my head, but I think you'll find it's quite a few cashier's jobs that will no longer be needed. And fewer cashiers also means that fewer Checkout Captains, will be needed, doesn't it?"

She looked totally confused. "Anyway," I said, as a parting shot, "I shall continue to expect cashiers to place my card in the machine, and I shall always make it clear that I expect that service, just as I expect my bags to be packed. And would you pass on my dissatisfaction with this new policy to the Manager, please?"

Now, I've not been asked to put my own card into a card reader in any other shop. Some shops like you to remove your own card, while others get cross with you if you do. I don't really mind that. But I really do think it's a bit much to expect people to magically know which way a card should go into a particular card reader, and take on that particular role, don't you?

And has anyone else found other large chains are expecting their customers to assume unpaid cashier roles? And does anyone but me care? Ho hum.

Question from an 11 year old

Without working it out, how long do you think it would take to count to one million at the rate of one number per second?

(and I'll bet you already know the answer so, sorry, you're disqualified :))

Landscape in glass

Continues from just below...






The view from the new window, at sunset, hanging in the new window, although not quite at sunset, by Mr BW.

(19cm diameter)

Commissions accepted.
Probably ;)

And I'm sure there is much more of a lucrative market for this type of thing than for anything arty that I could ever produce.

Stained glass

The annoying Things Not Bloggable that are occupying us continue at their own pace, which is much less than the pace they would be continuing at were we in control of them. All I will say is that recent experiences of The System make me realise that many people in public employ who are supposedly professionals (a) would not survive for 2 days in the corporate world, and (b) would certainly not survive as self-employed professionals. And as for complaining, well, there's absolutely no point is there, because those one could complain to are just as bad.

Anyway, in an attempt to counteract all the stress and grief, I have been ensuring that I make Mr BW do something creative on Sunday afternoons. This (*nods left*) was a ten-minute project made because I asked for a strip of the cobalt-blue glass he was using to make something for Mummy Mr BW, to hang in the triangular Studio window. Colour, I will have colour in there!

Artistry overtook him and I got more than the strip I'd asked for. "Interesting shapes - but, erm, what are they?" I enquired, when it had been hung. "Daliesque Yin and Yang" came the answer. Sometimes I wish I don't ask these questions.

I have another of Mr BW's glass gems to share later, when I've despatched the Aga Service Man.

Thought for the day

Great brains discuss ideas, average brains discuss events, while poor brains discuss people.

- Eleanor Roosevelt

Does anyone know...

Where Word stores its custom dictionary?

I appear to have got some typos in there (eg ahve, ahd, beleive, jsut) and need to edit them out. I think I knew where it was once, but I seem to have erased that particular file from the hard drive in my head.

I hasten to add that we are not talking state-of-the-art Word, but rather out-of-the-ark Word 97 here, as it does everything I want, and I'm used to it, so I've never seen the point in changing. I do have copies of more recent versions, but they are, erm, let's just say, not entirely of the sort that fund Mr Gates' lifestyle.

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 8

Back by popular request...
(well, OK, one person asked, and I know that a couple of my American readers have connections with the area and enjoyed the pics before :))

Thought for the day

This table has four legs. A table with a broken leg remains a table. But a table from which the four legs have been removed becomes only a flat piece of wood. At what moment did it cease to be a table?

- Carlo Suarès

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 7

Fast running out of pics of different places from the North-East...

For this one I want to know: the name of the place, what it's famous for, what's funny about that these days, and what the blob on the distant horizon is.

Now, will e, NiC, or Debster get there first? ;)

(For those who like this sort of thing, Nic is copying my idea proving that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, and is putting up his own Guess the Places pics)

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 6

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 5

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 4

Guess the Place Pictorial Clue 3

Here's another Guess the Place pictorial clue

I'll try to put another up as soon as each one is guessed.

ie I have lots of interesting photos of interesting places and need a reason to post them!

Another clue

This is the place where the mystery Blue Dining Room (post just below) is situated. This photo taken from its garden, which isn't right next to it, and which was designed by one GJ.

This is our dining room

Or is it?

It looks like it should be...

Witchy Friday

Today is the first anniversary of the day that The Ginger Familiar was killed by a heartless unidentified speeding automobilist. I remembered a couple of weeks ago that the day was coming up, but, with everything that has been going on recently, I'd fogotten today. Until something very spooky happened.

I was just checking the comment spam situation (which has become very out-of-hand recently) and which Mr Dressmaker has kindly been under my skirts attending to, and clicked into my archive totally randomly, to see if the comments were autoclosing as they should - to find this photo of The GF in the middle of the page. It wasn't even the top entry on the page, so why it should open like that I have no idea. Spooky.

In for some fun here today. We have finally exerted enough pressure on the company who manufactured the ba1cony to get them back here to modify it so it meets Bui1ding Regs. It's only taken 12 weeks of concerted chasing from both us and Chief Bui1der, but...

We insisted that the Po1ish fabricat0r/erect0r who came before lead the Modification Team, as he is a meticulous and skilful worker, and he finally turned up at 9.35am, which is not what I'd describe as "first thing" as Mr BW was promised yesterday by the boss. However. Pf/e said, "I cannot believe we are still not finished here!" then looked up to the roof and said, "Can I have the 1adder please?"

As I told him, we'd gone to great lengths to make it abundantly clear to his boss, in writing, that all bui1ders 1adders had been removed from site before we went on holiday (and given the burglary next door while we were away, that was no bad thing). He shook his head. "Your boss is a total wanker isn't he?" I said. Of all vernacular, that is probably the word that I dislike most, and I doubt I have uttered it more than a dozen times in my life before as I reserve it for situations of the most complete and utter incompetence and ineptitude. They laughed and looked at me knowingly. I walked off. I heard the second fabricat0r/erect0r say, "I can't believe she just said that!" Pf/e said, "You do not know the story. She has been very very badly treated. I am very unhappy for her, but, we sort it today."

We'll see...

Thought for the day

You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

- Mahatma Gandhi

Thought for the day

You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

- Jack Kornfield

A peep into my creative world

I know I said yesterday that, in general, for the present at least, I wasn't sharing my non-literary creative world...

But, as I've already spent 2.5 days immersed in it this week (3 totally different projects), I now have to do some work work PDQ, so it's all I can summon up to post quickly...

Using the stimulus of a design for fabric (top left), from a local museum's collection, designs were worked out (bottom left) and tiny beads used to work a large butt0n, which can be used decoratively, or as a br00ch, or displayed on one's blog:

(Note to dave: that's what I was doing yesterday when I wasn't here when you dropped by - hope your leg and bike tyre have recovered from insertion of PVC, our Guard-Cat,'s claws :))

You ask, I answer...

1. Mr.D. says:

I know you don't participate, but what are tomorrow's winning Lotto numbers? I have a sick boiler replacement bill to fund, y'see?

*gazes into blue crystal ball*
The numbers you require are: 23, 24, 28, 33, 34, and 41.
Good luck!

2. Mr BW asks:

What would you like for tea tonight?

Whatever you care to cook, dear (we usually end up thinking that we fancy the same thing anyway) :)

3. dave wonders:

Stockings or tights? I'm a tights man myself.

Tights, only tights, and only when one absolutely has to. But always wear cotton pants under them or you'll end up hot and bothered.

4. Ian asks:

What one piece of advice would you give to a niece/nephew on their wedding day?

Don't rush into anything, particularly having kids.

But, more importantly, when they announced their engagement I'd probably have had a little chat about communication and sharing. My philosophy on that is always: if you can't discuss anything and everything with total honesty and frankness, particularly finances, then you shouldn't be in bed with someone, let alone planning to spend the rest of your lives together, because it won't last. And, if you're not totally sure that the person you're with is 'the one' for you, then they're not.

5. oddny enquires:

Who are your favourite authors Blue Witch? Not an original question - but I am quite curious.

I could read fluently by the age of 3, and had read right through the school reading scheme within 2 terms of starting school. As a primary school aged child I used to read between 12 and 20 books a week - a special arrangement was made for me by the local village librarian. But, these days I don't read fiction, and haven't done for years - when reading vast quantities of written information about people is part of your work, the last thing you want to do in your limited non-work time is read fiction.

6. Alix asks:

Please will you come and talk to my A level General Studies group about something?

What would you like me to talk about Alix?

7. Magpie wonders:

If you could change just one thing about the current government, what would you change?

Their status. They'd be much better in opposition.

8. ian admits:

I'm lazy - can you give me a potted history of the Blue Witch world to save me the effort of reading every page of your blog?

No. If you're lucky someone else may try to answer that one...

9. Sensei wonders:

Where does Blue Witch tag come from?

Well... that's a bit complicated...
I'm a Witch, and my favourite colour is Blue ;)

10. Timbo asks:

What's the best savings account on the market today please? (you love that kind of thing don't you?)

Yes, but... there's no easy answer to that one Timbo. It depends on what rate of tax you pay (if it's higher rate, and you have a mortgage, an offset mortgage will always be best for you as it will pay around 9%, and you won't get that return from anywhere without risk), whether you have any non-mortgage debt (if you do and it's at a rate higher than you could get for your savings, then pay it off rather than save), how old you are, how careful you are with money, how secure your job is, how meticulous you are at moving money around to deadlines etc etc. Mini cash ISAs into which you can put £3K per tax year are always a good start though as they are tax free. The best are currently paying a little over 5%. I recommend moneysavingexpert (link in sidebar) for more advice.

11. z asks:

Why are you vegetarian? Health, dislike of the taste of meat, dislike of cruelty to animals, ethics, vegetable products being a more efficient use of resources, squeamishness, are some of the reasons people give, I wonder what yours are.

All of those things now (except I'm not squeamish). It started when I was 8 and we were on holiday in Devon. I got bored walking round the livestock market looking at the sheepy weepies and mooey cows, and left Brother BW (3 years my junior) and my parents to it, and wandered off to where there was an onsite abbatoir. Live pigs in one end, mucho squealing, insertion of knives, and pools of red liquid later, and dead pigs out of the other. I've never again eaten murdered animals from that day to this. I also feel that if people *do* want to eat meat, then they should be prepared to kill it. If they can't, then they shouldn't eat it.

12. Kitchen Witch asks:

What would your ideal day consist of, from breakfast to tea?

Creativity of an artistic nature. It's too easy to get trapped in a world where linguistics rules and where the language we hear and use about ourselves limits and defines us (ie we tend to meet our own expectations, and, in our culture, these are most strongly convenyed by words). Sadly, creativity is not adequately valued or financialy rewarded in our culture (few make a good, secure living from art and craft), so I still make money from words, which enables me to play with other forms of expression for the rest of the time. Latterly, I've chosen not to share that part of my life en blog, which is why I post much less than I used to - I'm now working in other media.

13. Gordon asks:

Name one experience you would like to have, and tell us why you haven't had it yet.

A month exploring the Australian Red Centre in a camper van. Why haven't we done it? Because Mr BW doesn't think I can behave myself in Monkey Class on a plane for the amount of time it takes to get there, and I refuse to agree to pay what it costs to go Business/First Class. Plus, I'm more and more mindful of the effects of air travel on the environment.

14. Debster asks:

What is the current state of play with the builders?

Ah yes. The 12-14 week project that is now in its 30th week.
*sighs deeply*
If all goes to plan, the Bui1ding 1nspector should finally sign it off next week as the modification to the ba1cony to enable it to comply with Bui1ding Regs should hopefully be completed by Friday night. However, there are still lots of minor things outstanding and many missing bits of paper - guarantees etc - and the p1umber has produced a bill to Chief Bui1der that is at least £1500 above what any sensible calculation of hours/materials can justify (I always knew all those detailed daily notes and photos would come in useful), so we have refused to pay it until it has been satisfactorily explained, which seems to be proving impossible (largely because it is). Chief Bui1der hurt his back weeks ago and was told not to work for 12 weeks... so we've been chasing people to get things finished ourselves, and Mr BW has ended up finishing things off and sorting out problems that the bui1ders should have fixed (more ££££ coming of the final 'on satisfactory completion' payment though :)). Extremely frustrating and, let's just say, several people have been read the Riot Act (BW Variant). Good Friend BW, who has known me for 16 years, was here painting with me last week when I tore strips off one character who has messed us around for 11 weeks. She said that she'd never seen me be that firm with someone, and that I'd scared her. But, it got the required result. I'm totally sick of dim bui1ders viewing me as a second class citizen, who can be ignored, because I'm female. You'll know when it's finally finished because The Long-Promised Picture of us BWs will appear here.

Right, that's that lot sorted...
I didn't think I was going to answer any of those, did you?

Thought for the day

The greatest and most important problems in life are all in a certain
sense insoluble. They can never be solved, but only outgrown.

- Carl Jung

Thought for the day

I know what I have given you. I do not know what you have received.

- Antonio Porchia

I'm probably not going to answer any of these but...

... as it seems trendy (and/or a not-so-cunning way of ensuring readers don't get bored whilst one is otherwise engaged - and bugger, I've just realised that I'm so busy that I've forgotten to remember to charge my mobile phone, which is unheard of ;)), if I asked you to ask me some questions that you wanted me to answer, what would they be?

Don't just stand there, DO something!

Anx was discussing people in a supermarket all standing and staring at a checkout operator who didn't understand how she should be operating the system for customers to demarcate the limits of their goods.

I was, to be honest, totally amazed by this. As I said,

"I'd have just politely asked her to sort it out so that the system worked as it should. Why am I so abnormal?"

Because I genuinely do think I'm abnormal.

Abnormal in actually giving a damn, and being prepared to put myself on the line sometimes, and talk or write to people, to make things better, and raise awareness of difficulties in systems, and things not working as well as they could.

My point seemed to be proven as, 19 comments down, still no-one else had said that they'd have stepped in to do something.

I really don't understand that sort of thing.

I do not understand why it is the case.

I do not understand what is wrong with people in this country.

Everyone seems to think that everything is nothing to do with them, and they shouldn't contribute some ideas/time/help to make things better for everyone, in this kind of situation. It's just common sense, surely?

As I said further down the comments thread, "Everything that is wrong with this country is wrong with it because this attitude prevails on a grand scale, about all sorts of things."

People generally aren't prepared to complain about poor customer service, or poor medical care, or cyclists endangering others by cycling on pavements and through red lights, or poor quality of food in restaurants, or unacceptable delays in banks and post offices, or the fact that the government spend £5 billion on war in 3 years while not funding more than a small fraction of hospice care for adults or children, or air ambulances, leaving 'charity' to raise the missing millions from generous tax payers who have already paid for desperately required services that aren't being provided.

It's all part of the same thing.

People think everything is nothing to do with them, and that anything they can do (if they could be bothered/ had the confidence and belief that they had the right to intervene) won't make a difference.

They're wrong.

If it hadn't been for individuals doing things that others didn't in the past, raising issues and awareness, then we'd all still be living in caves. Women certainly wouldn't have the vote in this country.

Are you an 'abnormal person' too, or could you do something more than you're doing to make a difference in this world?

Even one complaint about one service or item you've paid for that doesn't exactly meet your expectations will make a difference.

Even talking to people you know about issues you care about will raise awareness, and if everyone then harangues councillors at local and county level, and MPs, about issues that matter to them, at every opportunity, then things might change.

It might be a drip/drip/drip thing - enough drips and you've got a flood about which something has to be done.

If you don't do or say something at opportune moments, no-one else is going to.

Do you really want a future ruled over and dictated by the media (read: big business who control them)? Because it seems to me that that is the other choice.

Moving swiftly on...

... while I deal with a major issue for us including both of the subjects I'm not going to tackle today (see just below), I suggest we take up Sensei's suggestion and play "What's in the box?" (possibly not what he meant, but...)
A clue: It's a type of confectionery.

Tomorrow's post...

In the light of today's, I'm thinking about whether to discuss immigration, voluntary euthanasia or something else ;)

Give peace a chance

If one more person asks me if I want to buy a poppy I shall ram it down their throat.

No, I do not want to buy your symbols of war.

There are few first and second world war service personnel still alive, so, no, I do not want to support those who voluntarily chose to join up and get paid good money (latterly tax free) to kill people in the Falklands, Afghanistan, Iraq, Kosovo etc etc.

No, I do not wish to fund free piss-ups in the local British Legion (and yes, we've debated this before here in past years and it's not just me who has first-hand experience of generously donated poppy appeal money being used in this way).

On the subject of war:

Dear Americans

Please try to make good choices today.

You may think of yourselves as living in The Land of the Free.

But, from the outside (and to a few of your citizens - most of whom seem to read here), it is clear that it would actually be better renamed as The Land of the Hypocrite.

As (probably not always worksafe) Rob points out (I love Rob writing on these sorts of subjects):

"How stupid does the Reverend Ted Haggard think we are?

He admits to calling a gay prostitute for a "massage", scoring speed from him but he threw it away and didn't have sex with him.

Ok... a massage is geared toward relaxing...speed is decidedly not... so I must draw the conclusion that what really happened was: He called this gay prostitute, did some speed with him and they sucked each others cocks, repeatedly over a three year period.

This infidel was the leader of one of the largest evangelical organizations in America... some 30 million members strong and a vocal (read : hateful) opponent to gay rights/marriage.

Based out of the church of the hopelessly blind in Colorado Springs, this asshole held court to the core of the Bush cheerleading squad of idjits and igmorammesuses as bugs would say.

You want to know what's wrong with America?

Take a look at this two faced piece of shit and then file him away with Foley, Ney, Abramoff, the sitting administration and the ever growing list of fallen players connected to them and the crime wave they have been perpetrating on us since Bush took office."

And then we have the carefully choreographed timing of the verdict on Saddam Hussein. I'm sure that Shrub would like to have seen his public hanging broadcast live on every news channel across America last night. Instead, it's likely to be at least February before it happens.

Personally I'm opposed to the death penalty for everyone, particularly evil cowards like Saddam. Far better to keep him on death row and wheel him out every day at varying times, go through the motions of his execution, then, just before pulling the rope, stop, take him back into his cell.. Let him suffer the psycho1ogical effects he's inflicted on the Iraqis, and those illegitimately sent there by Shrub and Bliar to 'sort it out'.

And then there is the Donald Rumsfeld shaking hands with Saddam prior to selling him weapons incident, way back in December 1983.

Original footage of which has made it onto YouTube.

And so no, I don't want a poppy, to wear with pride.

I have no pride in showing that I support war (or its aftereffects), or living in a country where the so-called leaders repeatedly lie, and where the media run the show. Where every institution we have has serious flaws, swallows money (our tax money, which most people seem not to understand) and is full of inequalities.

Dear god, I'm just glad we chose not to have kids.

Perhaps I'll post something a little lighter later ;)

The county...

...where they call a spade a spade, and a wall a, erm...


I now understand why the Romans built Hadrian's Wall and why, more recently, Antony Gormley was commissioned to sculpt The Angel of the North.

It was so that those who like brash plastic consumerism can be contained in their temple of worship, the Metro Centre in Gateshead, leaving the unspolit, unpopulated places a bit further north for people like us to appreciate.

Out-of-season, at least (a proliferation of snail farms, and signs saying, "Shop open from April to October," suggests that nasty tourists invade in droves at other times), once you get north of Hexham (where the town has been ruined by guess who? Yep, T£sco - although an Aldi right next to it and a huge Waitrose that opened last Thursday proves that they haven't got all planning authorities sewn up as much as they have round here), you can drive for miles without seeing a soul.

There is space. There is silence. Tourist attractions are run by English Heritage and the National Trust (our life memberships of both saved us almost £160 in admission costs over the week) rather than faceless heartless businessmen, interested only in bottom-line profit for shareholders today irrespective of the costs to the future.

The land of old money, where everyone speaks either English or baa, where people still have manners, an understanding of traditional values, and Value, the time to talk to you, drive 4 wheel drives out of necessity, and keep their labels inside their clothes (which they sensibly, just like me, wear until they've worn out, and then use as rags).

If my spell to transport my bed and Familiars north had worked, I wouldn't be back here now...

(The last three pics were all taken on the farm where we stayed.)

What is the phrase that you would least like to hear two days after you had gone on holiday, from the person looking after your house?