Blue Witch

If you want me, you'll find me...

Here (on the villa balcony):

Or here (on the beach just below the balcony):

It is 30 degrees warmer there than it is here too.

I've run out of time to post lots of things I was going to post. Largely because there seems to be a conspiracy of inefficiency by any and all companies and organisations against Witches of late. Grrrrr. I was hoping that the current economic climate might have improved customer service and attitudes, but it seems to have made them worse.

I have checked in online, after being told, 5 times (further evidence of the conspiracy of inefficiency I thought), "Sorry, we are unable to offer you Online Check-in for this flight. We recommend that you review the status of your booking." (I don't understand how they let you do that 24 hours ahead) and have printed off our boarding cards with lovely very low numbers. Given that our carbon footprint is currently 1.87 planets (dreadful calculator though), we're using up some of what we've worked hard to save up, while the governmint still allow it. Given that most people don't do half what we manage (and half of the rest don't give a damn anyway - usually those with umpteen children I find), and that the self-styled very green guru Dick Strawbridge's planet usage, according to his latest series (which is truly nauseating compared to the last one) is 2.40, and ours will still be less than his when we return, I have no qualms whatsoever about causing some kerosense to be burned, to get away from the dreadful mess that this country has become, in search of some peace, tranquility, sun, and snorkelling.

There may be updates.

Which may be posts or comments, depending on whether t'inter works or not.

Or there may not.

The Friday Question Supplemental

Can anyone explain to me why my money, as a taxpayer, should be given out in £12,000 dollops as compensation to the families of the 3,000 people killed during the 'Troubles' in Northern Ireland (and remember this was the period from the early 1960s to the late 1990s) - including members of paramilitary groups. If the governmint approve the recommendation of the The Consultative Group on the Past (which has itself cost £1M), the cost will be £40 million.

Next we'll be giving £12,000 handouts to the families of those terrorists killed by their own bombs in London.

I'm beginning to think we'd be better off as the 51st state after all. At least there appears to be someone sensible in charge.

The Friday Question

There's been a lot of chat around the local blogs recently about whether online friends are any different to offline friends. The general consensus, as far as I can tell, seems to be that they are better.

Now, I may be in a minority of one, but, I just don't get this whole social networking thing.

I can just about keep up with the few blogs I read (which is probably a tiny fraction of what most people read) - if I had Twitter, Facebook et al to contend with too I’d never have time to do anything but sit at a computer. Oh, and probably moan that I didn't have time to do anything and never get anything done.

Maybe my desire to consume 'friends' is about the same online to offline. I have space and place for only a few carefully chosen examples, to whom I am fiercely loyal and fiercely protective, and most of whom I have known a long time. I have lots of acquaintances, but few friends. I suspect that most people confuse the two terms, and call people 'friends' when I'd call them 'acquaintances'. Plus, it's also fair to say that, without exception, my offline friends are as unconventional as me, in some way or another.

Whimsy social fluff fluff just isn't me, and I can't be bothered with people who have hours to spend in pointless discourse. I'm not the sort of person to ever want to sit around in pubs or coffee shops for hours, and am constantly amazed by some people's stamina and ability to maintain conversations based on absolutely nothing of substance for hours at a time. But, I'm usually quite a self-sufficient sort of person, and if people start being unexpectedly and undeservedly nice to me, I am usually very cynical and suspicious of their motives.

I don't have enough time in a day to do all the things I want to do, so why I might have time to sit tapping text messages into my phone to inform people I've never met. and will probably never meet. of what I'm doing, I have no idea. And, really, there are enough distractions around me already without everyone else telling me what they are doing every ten seconds. Perhaps it would be different if I lived in a city or spent lots of time travelling on public transport with nothing else to do?

I was talking to a girl yesterday who got her first laptop last month. She told me that she gets in from work (picking orders for T£$co home shopping) at 1.30am every night, and had to go and see her GP this week because she was too tired to function because Facebook keeps her up until 6am every day. The GP gave her sleeping tablets and Prozac. That’s a life?

I love blogging. What I put into it directly determines what I get out of it. It's there as a permanent and tangible reminder of things I've done, or seen, or thought at any point in time. But, it's only there when I choose to access it. I hate the idea of other more intrusive or transient forms of social networking. Maybe it's the control freak in me?

I'd say my online networking is pretty much like my offline networking. There has to be a point to it, and I have to think that I'd enjoy spending time with the online people I engage with, face to face, and would share interests, or philosophy on life. Actually, I have met up with a goodly proportion of regular commentators, and, with only a couple of exceptions (which, in hindsight, weren't that surprising anyway), I haven't been wrong in my assumptions.

I don't think my online persona is very different to my offline one either. I have no desire to be schizophrenic. What you see is pretty much what you get, and if I don't like you I simply won't engage with you on any level. As someone said to me last year, it's not so much that I don't suffer fools gladly, it's that I choose not to suffer fools at all ;)

This week's Friday question, then, is, what's your take on this whole online social networking thing? Do you or don't you?

More colour for dreary days

Last April, I went to a class where I used small squares cut from fabric I'd dyed on a previous occasion to make a bag.

You may remember:


Well, I have had said bag hanging up in The Studio (in between uses), and one weekend back in November I remarked to Mr BW that I would make a larger version in a similar manner, before we went to Sledge Island, to use as a beach bag because our old fin and snorkel bag had had its day. I think it's 15, and has been round the world several times, and sat on the deck of numerous dive and pleasure boats, so it doesn't owe us anything.

Shortly after that an Australian reader that I didn't know was a reader (if you see what I mean) sent me an email to tell me that she'd managed to make a version of my original bag - and won a local craft competition with it! I was amazed and impressed that she'd managed to work it our from my very brief instructions.

I finally got round to dyeing the calico last week (that was the colourful jars below) and making the bag last weekend, using 5 inch squares rather than 2.5 inch ones.

Despite using exactly the same dyes, and dye recipes, the colours have come out completely differently this time - much stronger - probably because the fabric was twice as thick (heavyweight rather than medium weight calico) and there was less fabric crammed into each jar, so less for the given amount of dye to cover. Still, the upside is that there is plenty of colour for the sun to bleach and still have some left.

The bag is nearly big enough for Mr BW to carry me down to the beach. If only I'd used 6 inch squares...

And I do wish I were as good at taking unwanted shower-room door knobs out of digital images as I am at making things. Motivation is all I suppose.

Thought for the day

What a man thinks of himself, that is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.

- Henry David Thoreau

Lightbulb moment

The governmint, stubbornly still presiding over a country where there are now (or rather were, at the end of November) 1.92M people unemployed, a number last seen in September 1997, have seen sense and are not now going to vote to exempt themselves from the Freedom of Information Act. We will now be able to continue to find out how many light bulbs Golden Brown buys for each of his residences at the taxpayers' expense.

Oh deep joy.

Meanwhile, across the pond, as the pound drops to $1.37 (remember it was over $2 to the £ last year) real change could be happening. From oil man (and his six books of Bushisms) to black man. Looks like he's starting by stopping trials at Guantanamo Bay. That should put a few terrorists back on the streets.

And the Evening Standard is being sold to a Russian for £1.

I look forward to looking back on this crazy time in 20 years time when it's been written up as 2 minutes on a "Britain in the 2000's" TV documentary. If TV still exists then...

Colourful pastimes

I can't ever remember Seville marmalade oranges being available on 14th January before.

My usual rule of thumb is the third or last week of January and the first couple of weeks of February, if you're lucky.

So, as I had no intention of taking oranges to Sledge Island to process (oooh, I can't wait to get away from the dreadful weather and malaise in this country), I did a quick spell, and lo and behold, my Market Vegetable Man had some for me on Wednesday. Lovely, lovely ones, compared to those from the very poor and very late harvest last year.

Which means that the Marmalade Machine has been very busy.

30 jars so far, and more to come. Thank heavens for pressure cookers and bulk-buying jar lids.


This has also been taking up my time:

As has this:

The house is quiet again today. Mr BW has (against my advice) gone back to work today. I thought he should have one more day off as yesterday he was having to sit down for a rest after every 20 minute activity (I think he has a better idea of what it's like to be me now...). But, would he listen? I find it very tiring having constant low-level noise on all day (daytime TV - particularly the adverts - drives me to distraction).

But, am I going to make the most of it? Oh no, I'm off to learn to knit in a new way...

The Friday Question

No, I haven't been on holiday (yet) or on hiatus (I'd say), just no time for the less important things in life, like blogging, this week.

I am good (now, having learnt the hard way) at pacing myself and knowing what I can get done in any set time without ending up in a Crumpled Blue Heap. Until others, or others' events, intervene.

Mr BW has been ill all week. Well, since Monday lunchtime, when, rather than come home and go to bed, he came home, gave me my car keys which he'd inadvertently taken to work, and then went back to work. Meaning, that by Monday night he was very unwell.

Mr BW is never ill, and very rarely has time off when he is. He also thinks that, when he is ill, he has a contractual duty to work from home rather than stay in bed and do nothing. He also hates not being constantly busy. So he did things on Tuesday. Even though I told him not to, as did several Nice Ladies, including a retired nurse, who were round here working on a grant application with me (of which more another day). These things could have involved cold fish ponds and new pumps. I do not know this for sure, but, given that they weren't working when I went out, and were working when I returned, I have my suspicions.

Of course, when you are ill and do things, you make lots of mess, because you're not really thinking straight, and actually, despite what you think, you actually cause more stress for those around you than if you stayed in bed and did nothing and got well sooner than you would if you didn't stay in bed and tried to run your office and manage your team and do all your usual household tasks.

And so it came to be that Mr BW was so ill he couldn't get out of bed at all yesterday. As it was week one of my latest textile project course (also of which more another day), I went out and left him to it. I did leave Cleaner BW supervising as she worked, and, I don't know what she did or said, but it seems he did do nothing (I'd also unplugged the router so he couldn't do computer work via our network, and luckily his remote access-via-the-satellites key had broken), and so he's marginally better today, but definitely still confined to bed, because the sooner he gets better, the sooner I can get back to having time for blogging ;)

This proper flu-type virus has been striking people down round here since the beginning of December, and, until Monday lunchtime, Mr BW and I were the only people I knew who hadn't had it. Miraculously, thus far I seem to have escaped, which is very lucky, because if I were to get it, I would likely not get over it in time to go on holiday at the end of the month (the villa owner emailed to say he's just installed wireless broadband, so, don't worry, you'll be able to vicariously share the experience).

I'm tempting fate here I know, but... my recipe for avoiding cold/flu illness is:

• Eat sensibly, and don't eat processed food, all the time.
• Garlic in everything one can possibly put it in, all the time.
• High dose (ie 3 times the usual daily amount) echinacea at the first sign of anything (I'd never take it all the time as the body then accustoms to it).
• Hot lemon and honey, with grated ginger to relieve sore throats and coughs.
• Vapourising tea tree oil and eucalyptus essential oils to disinfect the atmosphere and facilitate keeping bronchial passages open, thereby easing breathing.
• Keeping bedroom window open a tiny fraction to enable air circulation and hece stop bacteria/viruses multiplying so rapidly.
• Avoiding all over-the-counter expensive pharmaceutical remedies (waste of money and no proven clinical benefit), with the sole exception of ibuprofen, taken as the packet recommends, if headache or fever get unbearable.
• Avoiding changes of climatic temperature, because they stress the body (I heard that there is new research out on this this week, but don't have a link at present).

There are probably other things, but I can't think of them right now.

The Friday Question this week is, what remedies work for you?

Wise Horse Race

Thought for the day

The significant problems we face cannot be solved at the same level of thinking we were at when we created them.

- Albert Einstein

The Friday Questions

How are those New Year's Resolutions going?

Interesting article on the subject here that discusses why many people pick a single point in time each year to try to change certain things in their lives - behaviours, attitudes, whatever - make resolutions about them, and then proceed to fail at them within a few days or weeks.

The most popular New Year’s goals people set, according to Miller and Marlatt (1998) are:

37% - Starting to exercise
13% - Eating better
7% - Reducing the consumption of alcohol, caffeine and other drugs, or quitting smoking

According to the same survey, three quarters of people who make a resolution fail on their first attempt and two thirds of people make more than one resolution.

The article goes on to discuss research by Mukhopadhyay and Johar (2005) into what determines how many goals people set and how successful they are.

So, today's questions are: Did you make any resolutions? If so how many? And how many have you already given up on?

Me, I don't make them, as I've mentioned every year before. I believe in getting on and changing things when I feel that they need changing. For me, doing something on the same day as lots of other people, just because convention says so, would be a sure-fire route to failure.

Which grouse today?

Ip, dip, BW Blue, who's it, not you.

Not why the FOTCR™ decorations in Local Small Town won't be taken down for another two weeks because the only person insured to use the necessary equipment to so do has been allowed to go on leave. The superstitious in the town are up in arms. Ooops, did that one anyway.

Ip, dip, BW Blue, who's it, not you.

Not the incompetence of various companies then, or the time taken for some to reply to letters. No, those are a bit too specific and would anyway identify me if I wrote about them. Good job not them then.

Ip, dip, BW Blue, who's it, not you.

Hmmm. Maybe best not. I think I know why the government is in the mess it is now though.

So, OK, I'll go with a comparatively safe one.

Whatever has happened to capital letters for proper nouns?

Many big companies now use all lower case for their company names (and even for employees' names and job titles on their business cards I've noticed). Many programmes on TV now put up presenters' and interviewees' names and designations without capital letters. Poster adverts are often lacking necessary large letters.

Is it the creeping internet effect? Perhaps people have been so brainwashed that YOU CAN'T USE CAPITAL LETTERS ON THE INTERNET BECAUSE IT'S LIKE SHOUTING that they have mistakenly extrapolated the concept to other areas?

Or is it that people thse days are so unsure what a proper noun actually is that they don't use them so they can't be wrong? A bit like most people's approach to apostrophes?

I was talking to the headteacher of one of the schools where I advise earlier. She was asking me what I thought of the double standard whereby the government's Department for Children, Schools and Families (the Education Department for the overseas reader, or those who haven't been able to keep up with today's name for them) refer to themself in written communications and on their website as 'dcsf' but penalise children who do not use capital letters for proper nouns in their SATs tests. That had also not escaped my Witchy Radar, and we've composed a letter for her to send to Ed Balls-Up, with a copy to, well, lots of places. Let's see if anyone spots any published versions (any broadsheet readers/Daily Wailers?). I can't wait to see the official response.

But, I shall continue to use capital letters correctly, in all written communciations, in all formats. Sorry if you don't care to join me.
(And don't think it would be funny to comment all in lower case, because it wouldn't be, OK? ;))

Misunderstanding

Having contributed hugely to the current financial situation in this country, The Media now seem to be cashing in again.

This time with wall-to-wall (or maybe screen-to-screen might be more appropriate?) trash-journalism programming about people in debt. I keep seeing pleas from production companies for people to take part in such shows. Or rather, tell the world how irresponsible they've been. But not in those terms. They will always be seen abdicating all sense of personal responsibility, and blaming the bank or credit card company who begged them to take an account in the first place.

I try to be sympathetic to people in debt, I really do. But most of the time I can't just listen to their bleatings and make soothing noises like most people do, so I try to educate them in understanding the basic fundamentals.

For much of last year I attempted to improve my physical condition in a way that is possible for me, within the limitations of what I am advised/able to undertake. Swimming wasn't working well enough to maintain my muscle tone, and was causing me enormous neck and shoulder problems, despite using a snorkel and mask.

So I started on an exercise programme based on machine manipulation. 30 minutes per weekday (5 minutes on each of six pieces of apparatus that do the work for you) resulted in a huge improvement in my physical well-being, and an inch loss of 26.75 inches (66cm) over ten body points, between March and October when I became too physically unwell to continue with it on a daily basis. I've just gone back to it for the month before we go to Sledge Island, and am horrified to find that in the 8 weeks I didn't go, I have regained 12.75 inches (32cm). At no point have I lost weight: that wasn't the intention, I'm only concerned with keeping muscle tone.

This just proves what I have always maintained about exercise: if you start then stop you end up in a worse place than you were before you began. It happened to me in my early 20s after I'd stopped being a county/country level athlete back in my teens, and I can't think of anyone I know who hasn't been similalry inflicted. There is sound physiological evidence for why this happens, but I'm not going into that now, as that wasn't the point of telling you about this.

The place I go to opened about a year ago, and is owned and run by a lovely lady about my age. She staffs it, together with a couple of her friends and her 24 year old daughter. The clientele are largely vastly overweight ladies (many of them young mums, or local shop and factory workers) many of whom wouldn't be able to exercise in any other way, but there are a smattering of people like me with various physical conditions that prohibit normal gym-type exercise, and some older ladies with disabilities or recovering from surgery. Probably three quarters of them have no post-16 education, and of those a goodly proportion probably have no formal qualifications at all (I hope that was nicely put? ;)), but there are a few teachers and teacher assistants who come in after school, and a few nurses and other paramedics. Because I go in at various different times, depending on what fits in with other things I'm doing, I probably know a good half to two-thrids of the people who go there.

The owner is a larger-than-life fun-loving person, and, encouraged by her enthusiasm, everyone who goes along is constantly chatting and laughing. Even though I have to spend 30 minutes a day biting my tongue so I don't accidentally correct their use of English, or their knowledge/understanding of almost everything, I have learnt an awful lot about what makes the 'working classes' tick and why people can't manage their finances.

I've distilled a few tips along the way, mind, usually in a humorous and light-hearted way, and have unwittingly gained reknown as the person who can help with answers to almost any problem, or, at least, help people find their own way through mazes. Given that's my profession and vocation, I can't turn it off just because they're not my paying clients. Many of the mums now have a much better understanding of the local education system, and are able to question and challenge in an informed way when they have concerns. I've also been distilling nutritional and cheap home-cooking advice, and got many of them shopping for fruit and veg at the local market, and in Aldis, thinking about waste and recycling in new ways, and understanding how large companies operate, and why. One has even been inspired to get an allotment, and has asked me when I'm going to be exercising so she can come at the same time and discuss her planting plans with me!

I didn't appreciate how much many of them valued me until the FOTCR™ when one lady found her way to The Coven in the dark, with a thank-you gift for me (the best sort - gluggable and red), and last week, on returning after 8 weeks away, two ladies I didn't know very well hugged me and thanked me for the financial help I gave them before which had made a real difference to their lives.

I'm always hearing about things from people there that would make great blog posts, but I haven't ever used the material before because I suspect it would come across as if I were mocking their lack of education and understanding, and I'm not; I just feel desperate that they are in their current states because they often feel powerless and are under-informed and often misled by marketing and the draw of consumerism. I don't think the plethera of money-education programmes on TV help many of them much either - they get hold of part of an idea, then get disheartened when it doesn't work for them as they didn't fully understand the concept.

And finally.... I'm getting to the point, well done if you've made it this far!

Yesterday I heard quite the worst piece of misunderstanding of the financial world I've ever heard. There was a room full of people and only one other person (other than me and the person telling the story) understood why what was said was incorrect.

Here's the scenario:

A lady's daughter in her mid-twenties has just split up with her boyfriend of two years. 4 months after getting together, in early summer 2007, when the property market was booming and banks were lending on mortgages at 110% of salary multiples, or against very small deposits, they bought a very small new-build two-bedroom flat together, in a rough part of town, for £153,000. They put down a £3,000 deposit. They have an interest-only mortgage, and nothing in place to reapay the capital at the end of the 30-year mortgage loan term. Their joint income, before tax, is £30,000 (yes, that's a five times joint salary multiple they were given!!!)

The current valuation on the house is £133,000; or £20,000 less than they paid for it 20 months ago. The outstanding mortgage amount is now £153,000 as fees etc have been added to the initial advance amount, and, with an interest-only mortgage, they haven't paid off any of the capital.

They clearly can't sell the flat, and they have agreed they can't go on living together. He has agreed to move out, and she intends to get a lodger to enable her to continue to pay the mortgage.

Now, here's the shocking bit.

He wants to be free of the mortgage, and suggested to her that she should buy him out.

He suggested that she should give him £76,500 (half the mortgage amount owing) and he'd sign over his share of the flat to her. He even offered to pay the legal costs.

When she tried to explain that actually, they didn't have £153,000, but a £20,000 negative equity debt, on top of a £153,000 debt to the mortgage lender, he relented and said, "OK, I'll sign my share over to you if you just give me the £10,000 that is my share of the £20,000."

No-one could get him to understand that actually he'd have to give her £10,000.

I've met the young man in question. He doesn't come across as dim.

I am still totally flabbergasted by this misunderstanding, and by the fact that eight other people also didn't understand why he was wrong in his assumptions.

If this is the average level of understanding of the finances of home loans, it certainly explains a lot, doesn't it?

Icy Cold

It's going to be a good year for spells, I can sense it already.

Firstly, my spell for some cold weather to help the garden. Minus 7.6 degrees C last night (on a temperature sensor in a sheltered place under the house eaves), still -3.6 at 8.30am and -2.4 even now at half past nine. The coldest night so far.

And secondly, I admired NiC's fabulous photo of ice a couple of days ago, and commented that, "I've never tried photographing ice. Water yes, lots, ice no. No idea why I've never thought of it. But, having seen your superb image, I might just leave it that way..." I must have accidentally isssued an Auto-Spell Order.

One afternoon last week we had a power cut. Or, rather, we thought we had a power cut, but then realised that it was unlikely the lights still worked but the sockets didn't. Our swish new fuse board, fitted when we had the extension, has an inbuilt RCD device on the sockets (I think they all have to now actually, because Nanny knows that lots of people use garden and power tools without RCDs so get electrocuted, so has decreed that all of us must be protected against the stupidity of some of us - personally I think that Darwin should apply as the future gene pool would be better off without the idiots, but... ;)), and, after a bit of good guesswork based on past expereince, and the plugging and unplugging of a few devices, we tracked it down to one of the two pond pumps malfunctioning. Since then, the poor Fishy Swimmer Familiars have been without oxygenation (not a problem in this weather) and filtration (which could become more of a problem).

On Sunday, Mr BW knocked on the kitchen window, where I was busy cleaning something, and held this up:

Without the pumps running the fountains there is no constant water movement in the pond, so part of the surface had frozen, incorporating some pond weed. Close-up it looks very Chinese Painting-y in style, don't you think?

Now, it's quite a large, thin and deep pond, and we need meaty pumps to produce the filtration and fountain height we desire. If I recall correctly (and Value Witches tend to recall this sort of expenditure accurately) the last set cost nearly £700. That was probably 5 years ago now. While Mr BW reckons he can fix the problem, I reckon that the risk of the pump malfunctioning and taking out the downstairs socket ring again (this also runs the fridges and freezers), perhaps while we're away some time, is too great. The value of the fish in the pond also far exceeds the cost of a new pump(s) (they have grown from cheap tiddlers ten years ago - two for a fiver 3" koi or twelve for a tenner 4" goldfish - into huge vastly-expensive-to-replace mature fish).

I therefore started doing a bit of research into new pumps.

And I've *finally* discovered where all our electricity usage is coming from. In all my Witchy calculations and investigations to reduce our energy consumption, I just never thought that one pond would use more electricity than the entirety of the rest of our consumption.

With two pumps, a UV filter and extra airballs, it's using over 200W per hour. Over 4kWh per day (I have a horrible idea that I remember a comments-box discussion at some point long ago about how what I believed about energy consumption in this context was incorrect, but I don't recall *what* it was so please correct me if I'm wrong).

Despite being on the second-best E7 tariff available in this part of country at present (I'm watching the new best, first:utility carefully for a few months before deciding whether to change to it as there's currently a one-off £99 charge for the smart meter, and I know there is a government directive that all homes will be provided with them for free in the next few years), I reckon that's about 50p a day or nearly £200 a year.

Given that our total electricity bills for the whole year are covered by a £36 a month direct debit (ie £432 a year), our Fishy Swimmer Familiars have a lot to answer for. The worst thing is, there seems to be nothing I can do about this. To do the job we need, the pumps have to use the power they do, 24 hours a day. I guess we could always fry the fish and fill the pond with concrete?

On the subject of direct debits (sadly the only way of getting the very best utility tariffs these days), are your company stealing from you? Ours recently tried to up our direct debit from £36 a month (which covers our usage, but in arrears, as it would if we were to pay at the end of a quarter, which they don't seem like much) to £143 a month. I keep reading about utility companies trying to improve their cashflow by 'borrowing' from unwitting consumers, and if I hadn't been on the ball, we could easily have been helping them out. It wasn't a problem to sort out - one phone call, and a try at an excuse form them: "Oh, a colleague must have pressed the wrong button when changing you from your expiring price fix to your new choice of tariff!" and it was all sorted, but, if I were an OAP or had less time to check up on things, I might not have realised.

Thought for the day

I vastly disagree with the idea that a media-led/perpetuated culture is either healthy or desirable.

- BW

(on the potential damaging power of the (ta)blog)

The white stuff

Why did it leave snowing until the day when many people go back to work or school?

Thought for the day

In the business world, the rearview mirror is always clearer than the windshield.

- Warren Buffett

Now We Are Six

According to Professor Chris Bishop, who gave this year's excellent Royal Institution Christmas Lectures (sorry, forgot to tip you off about them like I usually do - hope you caught them, but if you missed them they're available here for another 3 weeks) ((an exampleof a fascinating fact from the series: The ever-increasing power of computers is explained by Moore’s Law. In 1965 the founder of computing giant Intel, Gordon E. Moore, noticed that the number of transistors that can be placed on a computer chip doubles roughly every two years. Amazingly, this means that computers made two years from now will have as much processing power as every computer ever made in the past.)) there are currently three web pages for each person on the planet. Even considering that he said that only a quarter of the Earth's population have internet access, meaning, I calculate, that each connected person behaving equally should have created twelve pages, I think I've outdone my share.

Sorry.

While sluggishly and unwillingly decluttering over the past few days (to please Mr BW), I've been wondering, on and off, about what to write for a blogday post. I still didn't know when I started writing this. But, as ever, the Power of Halfway Down the Stairs Through the Blogpost came to my rescue.

While looking for an illustration for this post I clicked on a link, within a blog, to an article by Drs. Fernette and Brock Eidestumbled, written nearly 4 years ago, that I'd not seen before.

This posits that the benefits of blogging are:

1. "Blogs can promote active & critical thinking
2. Blogging can be a powerful promoter of creative, intuitive and associational thinking
3. Blogs promote analogical thinking
4. Blogging is a powerful medium for increasing access and exposure to quality information
5. Blogging combines the best of solitary reflection & social interaction"

And concludes, "...it looks as if blogging will be very good for our brains. It holds enormous potential in education, and it could take societal communication and creative exchange onto a whole new level."

Sadly, I think blogging got derailed, in most - but fortunately not all - quarters, somewhere along the way. A combination of Web 2.0 (a term only 'invented' in 2004) and media/corporate hijacking for their own purposes, I think.

But, I like to think that there are still some little dusty corners, less-visited than previously undoubtedly, where the five benefits still persist. Blogging seems to keep my brain ticking over. Just. I just wish that more of the people who've been inspirational to me over the past 6 years hadn't jumped the ride.

So, after six years, what to say?

Thanks for visiting for however long you've been visiting, and for your contributions, whether they be silent, just here, or elsewhere too.

For my Blogday present, could you please say how long yoiu've been visiting, even if you don't normally comment, or even if today is your fist visit? (just put any old email address in the comments box form, it's not fussy, and, if you're not used to my overloaded comment system, don't worry if you get a 'this page cannot be displayed' message, it almost certainly will appear, because, well, because I've done a spell, see :)).

The Friday Question

I've only just realised that it's Friday, such has been the speed at which time has zipped past this week.

No idea where it went, except that we've been busy crossing jobs off The Lists, a friend of Mr BW's came round on Monday afternoon, we spent 2 hours in the optician's today (Mr BW didn't believe me when I warned him how long it takes them to sort me out), and we went out in Mi1dred to meet up with some of her friends yesterday. I ended up (unwillingly, by default, because the person ahead of us, who wasn't even in a Mi1dred, decided to break the club rules, reiterated, in church, just before we set out, and sped off into the distance) leading a group of about 25 of them through the narrow twisty lanes near The Coven - where we happened to end up - from memory (quite a feat as there are hundreds of lanes and no road signs)((but don't ask me why I did it from memory and didn't use either the 1:25,000 OS map, or the sat nav we had with us in Mi1dred)), because the 2 pages of A4 instructions we were given didn't work, and I didn't think Mi1dred's friends and owners would like a straight-line-down-a-busy-main-road drive, which seemed to be the only alternative.

And then I had quite the worst meal I have ever had in a pub, served by arguably the most rude and objectionable publicans on this planet (even the usually mild-mannered comedian of the group, who gets on with everyone, and, if his stories are to be believed, spends every lunchtime in pubs, said so), for whom everything was too much trouble, including manners. I had booked vegetarian and wheat free, and Mr BW had checked the day before that they had remembered, which they claimed they had.

So - starter, served 50 minutes after arriving (and the group meal for 60-odd was booked 3 months ahead, and they were given everyone's menu choices a month ago, so it wasn't a surprise to them): garlic mushrooms: 7 small button mushrooms, swimming in at least an ounce of melted butter, in a soup bowl, with a dollop of 'lazy garlic' from a jar on one of them and 20 flakes of (old and discoloured) dried parsley sprinkled on top. Served with two 1cm rounds of, yes, you've guessed it, white baguette (not much wheat in that after all), served with, yes, more butter.

Then, main course, served 1 hour 40 minutes after arriving. The vegetables (which arrived in a dish 5 mnutes after the mains) were the only good thing: boiled new-ish potatoes, and crunchy, not overcooked cabbage, carrots and cauliflower (they seemed to have run out of butter by then, luckily) but I could have done without the barely luke-warm yellow pepper, halved, boiled (I think) and stuffed with re-heated (from about 4 days before judging by the musty tang) mashed potato with half an over-grilled tomato perched on top. Truly revolting. Mr BW had cannelloni stuffed with what looked like Campbell's condensed tomato soup (do they still make that?).

And pudding? No, we didn't bother.

The draught Strongbow tasted as if it had been watered down by about half, and was totally flat. Other people were complaining that they had to pay before their glasses were filled with their beverage of choice. My fork had bits of old food stuck on it. The (supposedly clean) glasses behind the bar were all smeary.

With probably close to 80 people packed into the place and only 4 staff, 2 of whom were also working in the kitchen, and given that it was the NY meeting of the Mi1dred Club, and everyone was trying to have a good time, even I didn't complain, largely because there wasn't anyone to complain to anyway. I have a suspicion that the old chap behind the bar was the owner and the miserable rude Scots woman with her white hair ridiculously arranged in two bunches right on the top of her head taking issuing orders and slapping/slopping food down, his wife, so all I'd have got was an argument.

Pick your battles, I always say. Besides, there is more than one way of getting revenge ;)

Pubs are going bust right left and centre. Given that that pub is in the middle of nowhere, with no local or passing trade, I don't rate their chances of being open this time next year. Mummy Mr BW says that she thinks the owners haven't been there long. Their website is one page with a picture of the pub - with dead-looking hanging baskets, which really says it all. Mr BW used to take visitors there from work occasionally - not any longer. I know lots of People Who Lunch - not there any longer. I can't imagine that many of the other Mi1dred Club members will ever go there, or recommend it to others, again.

What's the worst meal out you've ever had?