Blue Witch

And finally

Mr BW's Nan died at 4.30am this morning.

The phone call from the care home came at 2am. We'd been expecting it, for weeks, months, years, and it wasn't the first one we've had in the last few days. Mr BW saw her yesterday afternoon and accurately predicted her demise.

She was nearly 97. Born in 1913. She was 20 before even Mi1dred was born. I doubt there will ever again be a generation who see so much change and innovation in their lifetimes.

We've all moved up a generation as she was our last remaining grandparent. And damn, she missed her telegram from Queenie. So near yet so far.

As a vet said on a R4 programme just recently, if she allowed animals to suffer the way humans have to suffer at the end of their lives, she would be prosecuted by the RSPCA. Not one of Mr BW's relatives, or my relatives, who have died, has ever gone out peacefully and painlessly. Anyone who comes canvassing on my doorstep in the next few weeks will be invited in. I am making a list. It is lengthening rapidly. Top of my list is care of the elderly and something I shall call Rights Not Fights. I just hope they sort out end of life care before I get to that stage. If not, the relevant documents are a third of the way back in the second drawer of the third filing cabinet from the left on the east wall of my Inner Coven...

I've asked Nan Mr BW to have a word with whoever runs this game we all play, about the weather. Snowing again here this morning. Given that she was sorting out errant T£$co managers who blocked her buggy's access into their store, and made disabled people's lives harder than necessary in other ways, well into her 90s, I'm sure it will be no problem at all to her.

Near misses

We usually go somewhere warmer in January/February. It takes the edge off the winter and is really the only time of year we can get away for more than a couple of days, what with the garden and assorted livestock of feathery and buzzy kinds.

For a variety of reasons, largely that we couldn't think of anywhere that we wanted to go that met our discerning criteria (hot, not mass-tourism, not 3rd world exploitation), and the fact that there weren't any cheap-enough long-haul business class flights to be found (Mr BW can't put up with me in economy for more than about four hours. so he says, and I can't sit comfortably for any longer than a couple of hours), but also because of the indeterminate remaining lifespan of Mr BW's nearly 97 year old Nan and associated family needs, we didn't get round to booking anything.

In the last couple of weeks we've realised that we have expiring Airmiles at the end of March. In a use 'em or lose 'em type way we thought about using them on Eurostar and going to Bruges. A couple of days later, Eurostar and Belgium weren't the place to be.

Earlier this week I thought about returning to somewhere not too far away that we'd been before where there is at least a temperate climate. I spent an hour or so on t'inter lookiing for flights/accommodation in Madeira. And look what's happened this weekend.

If I think of going anywhere else, I'll let you know, in case you are considering going there too, and think it might be a good idea to avoid wherever it is until after the disaster has happened.

It seems to be raining frozen raindrops on and off today. Not snow, not hail, but also not rain.

The Friday Question

You can have one, and only one, English county, Which would it be?

Having visited them all (some driven through rather quickly in a few cases), I'd always have to pick one with a goodly stretch of coast. Which does away with Shropshire and Herefordshire, that I might otherwise have picked. While I definitely prefer the coast in the south-west, having lived down there for 10 years, there are too many tourists for much of the year, and far too much rain. I like sharp pointy hills, but I like overpopulation (and especially tourists) less, so I'm going to have to settle for softer hills and say Northumberland.

Here's a map to help.

Why, just why?

Why is the floor a better place to hang things than the hanger?

Mustn't be too mean to Mr BW though, because he did get up half an hour early to get to the Lidl near where he works for 8am this morning for their Thursday specials. I was hoping for two of their nice little disc drives (320GB for £39.99 including 3 years warranty, but complete without nasty small USB plug that needs an adaptor, and with no silly security, involving another drive letter, that can't be disabled). He was first in the queue. He didn't get one. Because they had only one, and it went to a woman who seemed to know the cashier. Not a way to build customer satisfaction I feel, and, I suspect, in breach of ASA regulations.

Hmmm. No wonder I've always hated Lidl, and never usually shop there. Aldi, on the other hand, when they have limited numbers of technology items (occasionally limited, but usually 8, 20 or 50) give out tickets on the door, so first come first served.

Current list of failed technology this week: one netbook, one back-up drive, one DVD recorder/video box, one pond UV filter box, one power washer, two low energy light bulbs and one high-energy halogen bulblet, two computer mice, one battery recharger.

Only the bulbs and the recharger are exempt from Witchy contempt and excused, as they date from when we moved in here nearly 15 years ago. Oh, and there are also 2 huge, expensive, frost-proof pots containing olive trees, that weren't, and will be going back.

Always keep receipts. Always write dates of purchases (and dates of expiry of any warranties) on appliance plugs, and keep the instruction books, with receipts stapled to them, safely filed, I say. That's why they give these 3 and 5 year warranties I suspect - because most people don't. Or, if they do, they don't bother claiming on them. Me, on the other hand...

Thought for the day

I cannot divine how it happens that the man who knows the least is the most argumentative.

- Giovani della Casa

How long should stuff last?

I think the problem is, all this electronic technology stuff is just *so* unreliable.

Everyone wants 'cheap' these days, but cheap is made to a price, so components fail easily, and consequently things get sent to landfill in just over a year.

Looking at review pages on t'inter, people seem to be accepting/happy with this. I suppose most people happily go out to buy new things as it gives them an excuse to have the latest gizmos, and specs, but there are a few of us left (aren't there?) who still prefer quality over consumerism, have no-one to impress, and just want things to last.

I'm sure there must still be ways of making quality, for a price, but I don't think the manufacturers will ever do it again. Even Siemens and Miele white appliances (once considered the best, and good for 20+ years) now go wrong regularly.

Repairs cost more than new products, so what is one to do? Fill landfill? Cause huge amounts of energy to be used in the recycling process?

They don't make anything like they used to. I look at Mi1dred, now nearly 77, compared to any modern car, and see that.

Bits and bobs: calendars, seeds, infinity...

I'm very bored with computers now. Although I've added enough to my store of knowledge to have made the whole experience worthwhile. Probably. Just about. I want to know why I can set up others' computers much more easily and quickly than I can set up my own though. I guess it's a bit like housework. One can do someone else's in no time, but your own... well, that's why I have Cleaner BW. It would take me all week otherwise.

I'm now wondering how long one has to keep a calendar before it will be correct (useful) again? I can't quite get my head around the effect of leap years. It's sent my head into the same dizzy spin it went into when we watched that TV programme on infinity last week. Infinity minus infinity being 3. Or some such.

And, if you're a gardener, or prospective gardener, here's a rather good offer from Radio Times which it seems anyone (in the UK) can get their mits on. £4.45 for some seed potatoes, one of those 40 litre bag-things to grow them in, and 5 packets of assorted vegetable seeds. Just don't succumb to any of the other offers on the page as they are less good Value.

Famous last words

Yesterday I ended my tale of Microsoft-induced netbook woe with the words, "The only good thing is that all files are fully backed up."

Or so we thought.

I can mend broken people, but not broken computers, so, with some kind help from my techie friend in t'norf, and the loss of yesterday afternoon and evening, the netbook is almost back to the state it was in before Microsoft did their worst. Only nicer, because it's cleaner, faster, and uncluttered. I probably didn't need all that stuff that I'll never find again anyway. And it gives me a chance to reload the VRS, which has been malfunctioning badly in recent times.

I'm resigned to data loss now, no matter how careful I try to be.

After the hard drive failed in my main PC data storage device, a Freecom Toughdrive (14 months old) just before the FOTCR™ (that took 5 weeks to be replaced under the 2 year guarantee, pathetic), I had the main data on my netbook (double backup, for safety), so I suppose it must have been too much data in total for the backup drive to store. Mr BW is adamant that he checked it after backing up a week or so ago, and that the disc full warning only came up when he tried to doubly back up the main PC, but, as far as I know, data doesn't generally just vanish once stored on an external drive. Although with my luck with computers...

I won't, and will never, use online storage. I have a huge responsibility to the people I work with/for to keep their data secure, and unlike governmint departments and almost everyone else, I will not compromise that, particularly by floating it in cyberspace where it is open to any hacker. I never believed how easy it was to hack something until Brother BW (a world expert in software-based security) told me he could get into my bank account, and I said he couldn't. Shortly afterwards there came an email with the balance on my account, and details of the last transaction. This was probably ten years ago now, just at the beginning of online banking (which I wasn't using at the time anyway), and although times have moved on, so has the knowledge of hackers.

No wonder I like paper. Mind you, I was horrified to discover last week that Oldest Friend BW, with whom I was at school, is currently in the process of destroying, page-by-page, her diaries, kept since she was 8. She says it's liberating. I say it's madness.

She is also one of two old friends of mine, of a similar age to me, to suddenly decide to start spelling their first names in a different (odd) way. Maybe it's all part of getting to wearing purple? I shall never wear purple either. Blue Is The Colour.

Anyone got any recommendations for small, tough, external hard drives? Needs to be 250GB minimum. Probably not a Freecom either, based on recent experience.

Oh, and, in case it was the Microsoft security update conflicting with malware/spyware causing the never-ending bootup loop problem on the netbook, as some forums suggest (although I don't think it was, as I am very careful where I surf and what I open, and use Zone Alarm and AVG scan every day), has anyone got any recommended (free) spy/malware search and destroyers?

If you're running XP DON'T install the latest security update!

I am not a happy Witch this morning. As it is half term, I am a lot less busy than usual, and I had the week planned out, catching up on some paperwork, tidying up, finishing off a few UFOs (unfinished objects) and a couple of days out.

But now I find that dear Microsoft have other plans for me: they have released a duff security patch for XP (MS10-015 ), and my netbook (on which I do all my work, as it is more comfortable than sitting at a computer desk) is affected.

I never download patches as soon as they appear, I always give them a couple of days in case there is a problem, and I always look at what I'm updating first, rather than just let it carry on automatically. I also don't have my main PC set to auto-update, so that I (hopefully) always have one machine that's OK in this sort of situation.

So, the netbook is in a never-ending continuous loop of loading, that one cannot get out of by hitting F11 (Boot Menu) or F3 (recovery), or powering off and then letting it go through the disc check (it does that OK, then gets back into the same loop again). The Windows opening screen comes up, with the bottom bar rotating its little squares for perhaps 5 minutes, then a black screen with an arrow appears, and nothing else happens. I did once get into the screen that allows you to start in safe mode, but neither that, nor 'restart in last known good configuration' works.

Microsoft have provided this answer, to the problem, and there's also this, this, this, and this, but it's very complicated (far too complicated for Witches, and I don't see why I should have to pay someone - if I could find someone - to sort out a problem caused by Microsoft; Microsoft's support page in this country says you have to pay £46 for a fix from them!!!), and doesn't seem to be any good if one doesn't have the original XP discs (as netbooks don't have a CD drive, the recovery is off 'F3' but that won't respond), and one can't get to anything but a blue disc check screen or the never-ending Windows loading loop screen.

Anyone got any ideas, please? I do have an external CD drive, just not the Windows XP discs (and the ones I do have, for the main PC, are only Upgrade versions). Some of the solutions in the threads above point to malware or spyware interacting with the patch, but I'm pretty certain that the netbook is clean because I run Zone Alarm and AVG, and do a full AVG scan every day (and it was fine when it finished its scan last night) and am very, very careful what I open and where I surf. The only good thing is that all files are fully backed up (thanks to Mr BW's diligence)...

I was a chick last Easter

And this weekend I and my 11 sisters have to move to our spring pasture while the quagmire we have made up in The Coven Orchard recovers. The Stripey Buzzy Familiars are happy that they will have some peace for a couple of months. All six colonies seem to be doing well, despite the winter we've had.

The Friday Question

"I got a job with Stanley, he said I'd come in handy, and started me on Monday, so I had a bath on Sunday."

*pauses while those of a certain age work that out*

I've written before (6 years ago - ah, the good old days of blogging) about my liking of lyrics laden with layered hidden meanings. But, I also like nonsense lyrics, such as those from Squeeze's Up The Junction above. As an aside, I heard that for the first time in ages the other day, and realised that there is a continuity error in this tale (in which a couple meet, get pregnant, have the baby, and split up amidst alcohol-fuelled escapism, in just under three minutes flat), that I hadn't noticed before: anyone else ever spotted it?

Today, the Friday Question is - what's your favourite nonsense lyric?

More snow.

Bored with snow now.

9 months later

We have a spiral bound book, in which we write things that need to be done: a column for Mr BW, a column for me, and a column for jobs that need both of us. It saves remembering, and endless notes, or nagging, or forgetting something important. When Mr BW is bored, he looks in the book, chooses a job, and does it. Magic.

As we do the noted-down tasks, we cross them off, with one line, so we can still see them, as it very satisfying to look back on. If we do something large that's not on the list, we write it on, so we can cross it off and feel satisfied. Actually, that 'we' should say, 'me' ;)

The danger of living in an older house, with large garden and livestock is that you can spend all your time doing odd things and never feel as if you've accomplished anything. So this system neatly solves that.

Every couple of weeks or so, I re-write the page, carrying forward the jobs that haven't been crossed off. Mostly my column then.

One job, that has been on there for 9 months now, carried forward umpteen times, is to finish the cover for the piece of foam I bought 9 months ago, for the top of the dirty washing blanket box we had made for the bedroom when we redecorated last easter.

I've finally done it, from all the odd stripes of p@tchwork I've done over the past year or so.

Here it is flat:

And here it is in situ, assembled, with ends inserted, and velcro fastening down the long edge to allow for easy washing.
It's double sided (to allow for turning before easy washing):

Finished, it measures 4 foot by 20 inches (120cm by 50cm). Every point is perfect too :)

And Mr BW hasn't been slacking off in the craft department either. Here's his latest 5tained g1a55 creation: our annual Northumber1and autumn retreat. He's made a pair actually, the other one for the couple who run the farm.

Selling England by the pound

At last I've remembered to add in the original source for the Friday Question on handedness and cinema seating from a couple of weeks ago. Here, if you're interested. Spot the shortcomings.

Why is the UK turning into one huge pound shop?

You go into any supermarket, and seemingly everything is being sold at £1, or 3 for £2, or 2 for £3. In search of the polar bear ice cream Mr BW was craving last Friday (he's not usually allowed, but these are stressful times), finding the freezers in the better class places bare, I braved the lines of smoking unemployed and screaming brats outside Iceland and ventured inside. First time since it metamorphed from Woolworth's *stifles a sob*. No polar bear ice cream (unsurprisingly in hindsight), but freezers upon freezers full of cardboard packages of pizza, stodge, frozen roast potatoes, chips, cakes, stodge, ready meals full of additives and not much of nutritional goodness, and cheap meat products mostly made from MRM.

Iceland didn't used to be that bad, and I was shocked, shocked, shocked. And almost everything was a multiple of a pound. Do they think the people who shop and/or work there are too dim to understand anything but whole numbers? They certainly can't be healthy, if that's the main source of their food.

Mr BW says that it's probably just the 99p price tags being rounded up, to make a change, but I think it's far more widespread than that. Have you noticed?

The mystery of the unshrivelling contact lenses and the black letterbox

Well, actually, two separate mysteries.

Last week I found what appeared to be a soft contact lens on the carpet. Which was strange because it wasn't one of mine, and I couldn't think who else might have been in the house who uses contact lenses who'd have lost one, let alone lost one and not said anything. While I was out visiting one of the country's most expensive public schools last Thursday (where the students couldn't be bothered to hold doors for those following them through and dropped crisp bags on the floor which a teacher then picked up, while some of the older male staff wafted around in academic gowns and had their tea and coffee poured and brought to them while they read the newspapers in the staff room at break time), Cleaner BW found another one.

But, neither of them has shrivelled up, so I can only assume they are contact lens imposters: right shape, right curvature, right sort of plastic, but non-shrivelling after 6 days. I suppose they must have come out of some sort of packaging, but again, I have no idea what.

This afternoon I needed some pharmacy oddments and, it being bitterly cold and spitting with snow, and me being at the opposite end of town to the places I usually frequent, I went into a small independent that always looks rather dingy. My purchases came to £6.27, and I paid with a £10 note and the odd 27p, so that I wouldn't have a purse full of change.

The teenage assistant handed me £3.90 back, rather than the £4 I was due. I stood and stared at the change in my hand, and pointed out that £10.27 minus £6.27 was £4, and she'd got the change wrong. She then proceeded to tell me that I'd only give her 17p, so the change was right. On asking why she thought I'd given her 17p, when the odd amount was 27p, she shrugged and said, "People do strange things!" Not liking the implication that I was either a liar or stupid, or both, and being absolutely sure that I had given her a 20p, a 5p and a 2p, I suggested, politely, that maybe she should have queried the amount of the odd coins I'd given her, and that I would like 4 pound coins as my correct change.

"Well, if you're going to be like that, I'll go and do a till audit then, if you're right, you can have your extra 10p." I stood my ground. "How long will it take to do a till audit? And how can you be sure that you haven't already given someone else incorrect change, so that the till is accurate? We're not talking about £10 here, we're talking about 10p." The older woman assistant standing nearby, who, up until then had said nothing, said, "Oh give her the bloody 10p Nisha!" Nisha gave me 10p, I put all the coins down on the counter. "I'll have four pound coins please Nisha, as I intended." Needless to say I got them, and she got a very hard BW hard stare. Such attitude from one so young.

I was very, very tempted to say, "If you took that bloody stupid black letterbox off your face, you might stand some chance of seeing what you are doing!" As I walked out I saw the name on the door and realised that it was the same place where Good Friend BW told me she had had a problem with a mis-dispensed prescription last week, and, the young assistant, rather than apologising profusely for Good Friend BW's wasted time and return journey, had accused her of having taken some tablets out of the packet and switched them for some others (that she'd never been prescribed, so obviously had no access to) herself.

Why do people in small independent shops lose customers over such stupid things?

Thought for the day

The secret of success is constancy of purpose.

- Benjamin Disraeli

Formspring, Me?

With an academic background like mine, an inexhaustible thirst for factual knowledge and propensity for spotting interconnectivities (that others usually miss), within my areas of interest, and an enquiringly creative mind that can't say yes or no without asking why? umpteen times first, I've always been unnaturally fascinated by the reasons for everything. I want to know what lies behind everything. What makes social systems and the people who exist within them, tick, and, particularly, what makes them trick.

I am sometimes accused of being cynical, but, as I always reply, cynics are rarely disappointed, and it takes a lot of research to be a well-informed cynic. Cynics do have to try hard not to say, "Told you so!" some time down the line, though, when the rest of the world finally catches up with the information or analysis that drove the original assertion that was deemed cynical.

A few years ago now, Mr BW did several years of OU MBA stuff on business managment, and shortly after moved role and found himself heading up c0mmunications, in its broadest sense, within a multi-national company. He doesn't have a background in market1ng or PR, but, he's a very fast learner. This new world increasingly opened his, and my, eyes to the way in which the world really runs. Or rather, is manipulated, and coerced. And a few more similar adjectives.

All my worst expectations and assumptions about huge corporation, media and government manipulation of our world were not only confirmed, they were added to, a million fold (and I exaggerate not).

Sometimes I come out with a comment about a news story that most people I know would think was very cynical. And then Mr BW drops in a fact or two about how the press release has been constructed, or the pre-media briefing of the company spokesman has been handled to get acrosss whatever message the company (rather than the interviewer's) question wants. And another layer is spread onto my already deep bed of conspiracy theories.

Free will? In today's world? Don't be silly.

When you put this sort of knowledge and background together with what people in your circle of acquaintances tell you happens within their industries, the world suddenly becomes much less comprenensible, within any terms of reference at all.

As I result I now trust almost no-one and almost nothing. That isn't a problem to me; it's actually a very useful skill.

I am endlessly fascinated by social networking. I have no desire whatsoever to particpate (other than here, where it's on my terms, at my convenience), but I am an endless watcher and theoriser. Not of the content (I'm not a stalker, although I probably know far more about some of you than you realise, or would like me to, if you thought about it), but of the motivation, and of the way it is changing interaction, and society as it existed pre-internet and pre-mobile telephony and pre-24 hour world.

So, when the Formspring Formomenon started appearing earlier this week, I immediately wondered, hmmmm, there's no advertising, so exactly what is the motivation of whoever's put it together?

My initial thoughts were that it was a data-collection exercise for someone's PhD, but further investigation revealed that it seemed to be much bigger than that.

I wonder how many people who've signed up for this semingly innocent bit of fun have read the (lengthy) T&Cs? Actually, I also wonder how many people have signed up, but I don't think there's any way of finding that out yet.

For example,

"By submitting content through the formspring.me service, you grant formspring.me a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to use, copy, reproduce, process, adapt, modify, publish, transmit, display and distribute such content in any and all media or distribution methods. Such additional uses by formspring.me, or other companies, organizations or individuals who partner with formspring.me, may be made with no compensation paid to you with respect to the content that you submit, post, transmit or otherwise make available through the formspring.me service."

In this world, 'services' like Formspring are not provided for free from the kindness of someone's heart.

There are 'plans' for all this data that people are busily giving away for free, methinks. Otherwise, why write T&Cs like this?

It may not be a concern for people using it anonymously, but, for those busily giving away personal data who are identifiable, and less circumspect, I hope it doesn't come back to haunt them.

Always remember, just because you are paranoid, doesn't mean they're not all out to get you :)

The Friday Question

Oh how I long to be able to throw open the windows and get some fresh air into the house without letting all the warm air out, and to be able to dry the washing on the line outside, rather than on the airer inside. I did see people with their windows open in the brief sunny spell last Saturday afternoon, but we were out nearly getting killed in Mi1dred then, so missed the opportunity.

Talking of cars brings me neatly to today's Friday Question:

How many cars have you owned (ie that have been registered in your name with DVLA or the appropriate authority in your country) in your life?

In the 25 years I've owned my own cars, I've only had 4 (which I only count as 3).

Bright BW Blue Mini 1000 (September 1985 - September 1988, 3 years old at purchase), BW Blue Peugeot 205 (September 1988- September 2001, new at purchase), very bright BW Blue Peugeot 206 (March - November 2000, new at purchase: caught fire in a flood when 30 weeks old, never liked it because the garage wouldn't let me choose its number plate), dark metallic blue (but only because I needed a replacement vehicle immediately and it was the only colour, other than solid red, available) Peugeot 206 (November 2000 - present, new at purchase).

I wish I could have the 205 back. I loved that car. It did nearly 180,000 (or was it 190,000? Or maybe 170,000?) miles and was still good for a lot more, although showed signs of getting increasingly expensive to maintain. We still sold it for £575, and the young lad who bought it got a speeding ticket from the speed camera outside where Mr BW works, the week after we sold it to him. Luckily I checked the date before shouting at Mr BW.

They don't make cars like any of those any more, unfortunately.

How many cars have you owned (ie that have been registered in your name with DVLA or the appropriate authority in your country) in your life?

And, because I've been wondering (I do wonder about odd things, but you know that by now), does anyone know what's going to happen to how registration plates are formed from the September 2011 issue? Taking the current form of '5' for half way through the year, and the last letter of the year date, that will bring us back to a '51' number sequence between the letter strings, which would be the same as the first issue of this new format in September 2001, so therefore unlikely I'd think.

Thought for the day

Too often we underestimate how quickly our feelings are going to change because we underestimate our ability to change them.

- Daniel Gilbert

Thought for the day

The best way to get approval is not to need it. Don't try to stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether. Never compare your inside with somebody else's outside. The more talented somebody is, the less they need the props.

- Hugh MacLeod

When enough is enough

I've probably posted this before, I don't recall now. I'm sure that many of you will have read it elsewhere anyway, but, as I've just dug it out to send to an acquaintance, I'll post it again.

It's one of my favourite motivational tales, and. the reason why, depsite the opportunity being there, and despite having all the skills (or access to them from Mr BW) I don't run a successful large company, employing many other people, and making lots of money.

I just wish that more people would understand what it means, without having to learn the hard way.

The Greek Fisherman

A boat docked in a tiny Greek village. An American tourist complimented the Greek fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

“Not very long,� answered the Greek.

“But then, why didn’t you stay out longer and catch more?� asked the American.

The Greek explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?�

“I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings I go into the village to see my friends, dance a little, play the bouzouki, and sing a few songs. I have a full life.�

The American interrupted, “I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you.�

"You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middleman, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Athens, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge enterprise.�

“How long would that take?� asked the Greek.

“Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years,� replied the American.

“And after that?�

“Afterwards? That’s when it gets really interesting,� answered the American, laughing. When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!�

“Millions? Really? And after that?�

“After that you’ll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your grandchildren, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife, and spend your evenings singing, dancing and playing the bouzouki with your friends.�

- Author unknown

Thought for the day

Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That’s why it’s a comfort to go hand in hand.

- Emily Kimbrough

Vision On

The Borrowers have returned my close-work glasses. Finally. after 35 days.

I think the prospect of the potential for Super-Strength Witchy Spells on today's momentous date must have scared them into putting them in a place they knew I coulnd't have looked. That is, on the top of the files in the third drawer of a four-drawer filing cabinet that was unopenable because the 4th drawer had spectacularly derailed, and disintegrated its metal runners. Because I wailed repeatedly that I wouldn't be able to replace it with the same model as its no longer made, so I'd have a non-matching set of seven, which offends my sense of order, Mr BW finally had enough and mended it last weekend, with judicious use of Dremmel, vice, bending, and reseating. Well, I suspect that's what he did, I didn't actually see.

In celebration of the return of vision (I now know how my older friends feel when they have their cataracts removed), I spent yesterday afternoon finishing off and sewing together various bits of p@tchw0rk that I've made over the past eighteen months, into a cover for the foam top for the blanket box that we use as a laundry bin in the bedroom, that we had made last April (separate compartments for whites, coloureds, and empty hangers when we take things out of the wardrobe to wear; saves hours of sorting every year).

No pictures yet, as I haven't finished it because medical crises with Grandmother Mr BW (nearly 97) and muddled messages from care homes and Mummy Mr BW, led to Mr BW spending half the afternoon dashing around the county trying to sort out why a locum weekend doctor, who wouldn't deign to go to the care home to see Grandmother BW, could direct that she was sent to hospital against the wishes stated in her Care Plan.

Anyway, Mr BW sorted it all out, and, having signed away his life on a disclaimer form, she is still ensconced in her normal place of residence, for the time being at least. The level of care is undoubtedly better there than in the dreadful geriatric medical ward at the local/regional hospital anyway, and all the nurses are fully qualified and experienced in geriatric care, so why move her to a strange and frightening environment, when there's nothing that can be done anyway? End of life care in this country is a complete mess. I dread to think of the suffering that those without advocates go through. I've decided I'd better cultivate some younger (informed and assertive) friends, to be on the safe side. I now see why I'm so in demand amongst The Older Set :)

While sewing yesterday afternoon, I heard a programme on Radio 4 that perfectly summed up my impressions, and past direct knowedge, of the phamaceutical industry, and the unethical pratices of marketing and research that drive it. There is interesting comparative evidence for US and UK practices too. File On 4 is available to listen again for the next 6 days, or as a podcast, and will probably be available as a transcript in the near future. Be afraid, be very afraid. But do listen to it.