Blue Witch

Oh rubbish

Despite not having seen or heard anything 'official', the amount of rubbish littering the lanes around here makes me think that keeping the countryside clean is not high on the local councils' priority list in these times.

I often walk a few hundred yards down the lane just to pick up the litter. There's a 24-hour drive-through (one free advert here in a week is enough) about 5 or 6 miles from here, and that seems to be just the time it takes the young drivers to eat, open window, and fling. I just wish that other people who went out walking (eg with dogs) would do their bit to clear up too. It's not hard! I can't walk past litter and leave it (areas of high concentration aside - and then I often ring the appropriate local council to alert them to their legal responsibilities).

There's a family with eight kids who live about a mile away, and they often walk up and down the lanes during the day. It's called homeschooling I believe, but I do wish that that extended to nutrition, and environmental studies. Eating crisps and chocolate bars and then dropping the wrappers just doesn't fit with my understanding of the whole homeschooling concept.

I've never understood how people can drop litter. Do they not think of the repercussions? Or do they not care? I've been known to chase a piece of accidentally-dropped,or blown-out-of-my-hands litter hundreds of yards to ensure that it's not left to become an eye-sore or death-trap for wildlife. I also take recyclables home, to put in the recycle bin, when there's only a general bin available in a street.

Has anyone else noticed increased litter around where they are?

Bits and pieces

Gone are the days when I wrote a blog post then thought about the rest of the day. A troughful of lasagne (to creatively use up some bits and pieces from the fridge), and the preparation of some hen food, required my attention first. And some tidying up, reading, filing, phone calls, and moving around of money to minimise bank profits.

Small things please me: our newest maran appears to be laying the most amazingly dark dark chocolate brown eggs. We've had dark eggs before from marans, but not this dark. I know they get lighter as they lay more, but this is exceptional. It makes me want to just put one on my desk and look at it all day. As I said, small things please me.

Mr BW enjoyed another day of clanging on Saturday, while I rotated. Or rather, attended the AGM and sighed at the inability of such wonderfully creative people to understand simple finance. After I filled a sheet of paper with figures to demonstrate in a simple way the point I was trying to make, it was reluctantly agreed that I was right, a decision was amended, and I was left with yet more proof of why the country is in the state it is. Surely the key to happiness is having finances sorted? It really doesn't take much, and I really don't have any magical skills in that sphere. Just some common sense and a basic understanding of number and compound interest. I am more and more convinced that if people had better money management skills there would be fewer mental health problems.

Yesterday we made up new b33 frames for the forthcoming season, until we ran out of foundation. That was quite a few. I can nearly bang small nails in reliably, without bending them or causing them to sheer them off, now. By the next time we make them I'll have lost the skill again, no doubt.

Google is changing its privacy policies on 1st March, FaceBook is adding timelines and selling your data to the highest bidders, and I still can't fathom how Twitter funds itself. Maybe they're doing a LinkedIn - they collected and waited, and now charge largish companies £60,000 a year for some sort of basic recruitment service. Who knows? I'm just glad I'm not part of any of it. Paranoid, me? The future will reveal all.

A question for the technologically advanced: if I want to take an image and reduce it to stripes of its constituent colours (with the size of each stripe proportionally representing the original colour use), how could I do it? I think that there should be a way, but I can't think how, and I've failed to find any information online. I can find this sort of site, which extracts the colours, but not proportionally.

The Friday Question supplemental. On Saturday.

McDonald's served 1,300,000,000 customers in the UK last year, 100,000,000 more than in 2010.

The company attributed the rise in diner numbers to longer opening hours and, "...winning over budget-conscious families and commuters looking for a cheap coffee" and that, "...consumers have embraced fast food during the economic downturn."

On average each Briton ate 21 times at a McDonald's in 2011, these figures suggest.

Who's eating mine?

The Friday Question

Do you know your National Insurance Number (social security number for those not in the UK) off by heart?

Higher order money-saving tips (those money-saving TV programmes will catch up with me one day...)

Why do companies use ink that fades on sales receipts?

Are they in cahoots with the companies that offer extended warranties (free or otherwise) that require original receipts ("no photocopies allowed") for any claim?

And/or with insurance companies who require proof of ownership of everything (no matter how small) for all claims these days?

An acquaintance just phoned to ask my advice: a tree fell on their shed in the recent gales, causing over £6,000 of damage to various garden tools, bicycles, and garden items. The insurance company has rejected the major part of the claim (for a ride-on mower) as the original receipt is now illegible after a couple of years. Worse still, they use cash to pay for things rather than credit cards (so that's at least 1% of their annual spending that they don't get returned to them), so don't even have a credit card bill as alternative proof of purchase (as I had to resort to, for my extended warranty by paying with credit card claim, from the credit card company, on my 20 month old camera recently - oh how good it felt to get something back from them for a change).

I always photocopy receipts for large items, in case of fading, then staple both the copy and the original inside the front cover of the manual and file it away. If it's an electrical item (most large purchases tend to be) I also put a label on the plug with the date of purchase and number of years warranty. Time goes on so quickly and it's easier to look at the plug date rather than hunt for the manual and purchase receipt if something goes wrong. We can then easily make a quick decision about claim, repair, or replace.

But, I think I'm also going to start a book of larger purchases as an all-in-one-place record. I might do it chronologically, or I might do it room by room. Columns for item, price paid, place purchased, type of payment. I might even put the receipt number on it, if it has one. Mummy Mr BW has just such a book; she's had it since she got married (I think), and it makes fascinating reading. The old tips are the best.

More and more I like paper records (got to fill all that space created by my ongoing decluttering exercise, after all - stop sighing Mr BW ;)). But, for those who like computer-based systems, a spreadsheet with attached receipt scans would work too I suppose. Provided the data isn't on the PC/laptop that gets nicked or burnt if the worst comes to the worst, so that one needs the data to make an insurance claim...

Thought for the day

We would be happier with what we have if we weren't so unhappy about what we don't have.

- Frank A. Clark

Wailing

I love slow news days. It gives the breath of life to non-stories, or stupid stories.

But, today's offering from BBC Breakfast is sadly worrying.

Those mumsies who prefer the internet to their babies frequent 'mumsnet' ("The reason my referral rate for delayed speech and language development has risen every year for the past ten years," according to a very experienced Senior Speech and Language Therapist of my acquaintance) have decided that it isn't fair that LOCOG decree that every child going to the Olympics must have its own ticket and therefore seat. "What," they hormonally scream in a sleep-deprived manner, "happens to the family who got tickets and then mummy got pregnant? They're not allowed to take in babes in arms!" (And I fully expect there to be a "It's against the human rights of babies, we're going to challenge that in the European Court!" line to be added to their complaint if LOCOG don't change its mind (unless Dave gets his way today)).

A jolly good thing. A huge event in potentially hot sun is not the place to take any child under the age of probably five or six, and only then if they could be relied on to be seen and not heard. Well, OK, they can cheer, but only when it's appropriate.

Imagine that you'd paid £100 for a ticket. Would you like to sit next to someone with just one seat, but also one baby, one changing bag, one pushchair, and assorted other paraphernalia? No, me neither. I don't know about Ban the Bomb: Ban the Baby, from events like that. It's just selfish to want to take babies and toddlers to such an event. Selfish both from the point of view of the other spectators, and from that of the children themselves.

And if 'babes in arms' do end up being allowed to attend, let's not resort to buying them a cutesy cuddly fluffy mascot toy in an attempt to stop their WWWWWAAAAAHHHHHing.

Despite the supply contract being given to a UK firm, they're actually being made in China. In factories with the same lack of regard for workers as the i-Factory, where workers recently had to resort to threatening mass suicide in an attempt to get what they'd previously been promised (on which subject, great article here about why it's never worth fighting with fanboys).

I guess Apple fanaticism is a bit like baby fanaticism. You tend not to want either until you have one, and then you can somehow selfishly overlook the deleterious effects that their creation and maintenance have on other people.

Flying on

Mr BW has kindly restored colour harmony to The Inner Coven with a second coat of specially-mixed paint over the offending off-tone hue. Or maybe that should be off-hue tone. A shady subject. The fact that paint-mixing centres have the technology to recreate almost any shade of yesteryear suggests to me that I am not the only one who is set in my colours.

Paint fumes are one of the myriad of chemically things that badly affect me, and, despite windows being opened (thank goodness for the ongoing mild winter) I'm coughing, sore-throated, and tight-chested.

We nearly had another disaster on this decluttering project when the new made-to-measure vertical blind slats turned out to be a few millimetres too long. The drop of that window is 98.4cm, and blinds are made 1cm shorter than the provided drop measurement, which can only be given to the nearest centimetre. Given that the bathroom blind ordered form the same company turned out to be 2cm shorter than ideal, I thought that giving 99cm as the drop would work perfectly. Wrong.

Luckily, removal of the clip-on / clip-off bracket and drilling a couple of holes through the metal top-rail solved the problem and the blind is now the exact perfect length.

Changing the subject, I know enough people who work within the public sector to know that there is little (if any) "joined-up-thinking" between departments. I've heard it mentioned several times in recent weeks on various radio and TV programmes - including by senior governmint ministers.

Something I've never understood, when travelling by air, is how about half the people on any plane originating form Gatwick, Heathrow or Stansted have had to travel down from the north. If you chat to people around you, or are like me and can't block out conversations around you, however much you might like to, they complain bitterly about their many-houred onward travel before they get home. It amazes me how many people get off long-haul flights and then drive themselves (and often family members) home up northwards motorways for many hours. Do-able if you've flown business or first class and had some sleep, but, who sleeps in economy? Major safety implications there.

Why then, are we talking about airports in the Thames Estuary as an alternative to increasing runway numbers at the London airports? Why do we need to increase airport capacity in the south-east?

Why not increase airport capacity in other areas?

This would stop many people having to spend many hours travelling south before flying, and increase the options for people from other areas: with HS2 recently given the green light, phase one, between London and Birmingham, should be running by 2026, and that will be followed by a second phase of the Y-shaped route reaching Manchester and Leeds by about 2033.

Airport expansion at regional airports would give *huge* boosts to northern economies: jobs, housing, community support services (infrastructure, health, education, retail etc etc), and improved international transport options would make relocating from the over-crowded south-east to run-down areas of the north (with cheaper property and labour costs) much more attractive to large global companies.

Currently, 74% of all visitor arrivals in the UK are at London airports. I cannot imagine that all of those 74% want to arrive in the London area, or could not more conveniently arrive in other places.

Is there something I'm missing here?

Or is this idea just too obvious for successive governmints to have considered? Another example of the lack of joined-up thinking between departments of the public sector that I mentioned above? Perhaps it's been considered and I've missed it?

I'd love to see some figures about UK town of origin of air travel compared to airport travelled from, to support my suggestion, but, despite having been stopped and asked this on several occasions at airports, I can't find the data.

I can sing a rainbow

The trouble with being a colour-freak is that you only like certain colour combinations.

You frequently inwardly shudder while admiring others' work. Particularly the Patchy Ladies, who I'm convinced haven't ever had a lesson in colour theory between them. Beautiful work, but a tone out here, a hue out there, and a better colour that could have been used somewhere else, to better effect. "Oh that's beautiful, look at the precision of your points!" comes out of my mouth, while, "Oh gawd, *why* did you have to use that shade of pink with that shade of green, and *why* introduce a pastel colour for the border, it just doesn't work..." goes through my mind.

You haven't yet made a mistake in choosing the colours to paint the walls of your interiors... and you have an elephant memory for the colours you used last time you redecorated. Because you are a sad person, and don't want to change them when you redecorate.

Except that, when Cognitive Decline™ strikes, you don't remember quite as well as you used to.

And you only remember when Mr BW has spent half of the afternoon painting half of the extremely weird-shaped ceiling of your Inner Coven (think dormer roof, and a truncated opposite roof slant, and add a few twists and turns).

Natural Linen is NOT Natural Hessian.

Bugger.

Given that the new made-to-measure blind (Honey I Shrunk the Curtains which should have been dry cleaned but got put in the washing machine - they were 16) was chosen with Natural Linen in mind, and that you are a colour freak, there could be a problem brewing.

Tomorrow's light will tell... I love Mr BW lots, and I really don't want to make him extra work, but I can't cope with colours not being just right.

The Friday Question

"Why do children tell so many lies these days BW?" asked the mother of a child I once taught, when I bumped into her in town the other day. Said child was now a lanky spotty teenager and, she said, if she managed to extract a grunt from him it was usually a half-truth, if not a downright lie.

"It's because the world we live in is full of lies and deception, so they haven't internalised the concepts of reality, let alone truth," I replied.

I didn't say what I was thinking: that if she'd spent more time doing things with him and his sister rather than touting them around various activities, and then letting them "flop and chill" on electronic toys to "recover", then she might not be having quite the problem she was now. This was the child who was playing Grand Theft Auto into the early hours at 9 years old after all.

She looked puzzled. I explained how today's world bombards us with advertisments, and enticements to spend spend spend and consume consume consume. Advertisments and enticements carrying dubious claims and promises that marketing departments have spent hours concocting. A world which often substantiates its claims with statistics that are completely convincing to those with limited grasp of numbers and no background in research (Null hypothesis? Probability level? Sample size and selection? What are those?).

I thought again of this conversation this morning when I surveyed the contents of my salespeople's inbox. I sort incoming mail into about 20 different mail boxes, otherwise I would be overwhelmed. Occasionally I glance at the contents of the largest box - stuff sent by hopeful companies I've bought from previously (I use a dedicated email address for online purchases so that unwanted follow-ups can be filtered).

We have had many calls over the last few weeks asking when we will be having our Winter Sale. As many of you will know, it finished on 12th December 2011.

So, we have decided to have another online opportunity for UK b33keepers to purchase our sale h1ve parts, frames, foundation and some accessories. The Sale will begin at 10.00am on Saturday 28th January and finish at 5.00pm on Tuesday 31st January.

We've had such a fantastic response to our winter offer of 10% off all fabrics that we've decided to extend the sale by another ten days, and to offer 15% off!

We've accidentally overstocked on [brand name] paints, and have decided to let you benefit from our mistake - buy three get one free! This generous offer won't be around for long, so order now while stocks last!

Nothing like pretending that you're acting out of the goodness of your commercial heart, rather than desperation in a bleak market, is there?

What other examples of this sort of thing have you spotted?

Two slices of bread and a packet of crisps please

In the National Railway Museum in York (which we visited back in November) there is a wonderful collection of old railway posters, official pamphlets and publicity material.

All available as someone kept them when others wanted to throw them out. And yes, that might be a reference to the decluttering in The Inner Coven. Which now contains half the paper it did a week or so ago. Lots of things that others may have enjoyed in the future are now on their way to pulping. Still, I can't be the world's curator. Or so I keep telling myself. I've found that it's easier just to put something in the recycling bag (itself an empty hen food bag) rather than to start looking through it.

As one of the first commercial (shop) sandwich makers in the UK (what a claim to fame... I've mentioned before that I had a job when a university student making sandwiches for M&S at Oxford Circus at the time the company were just beginning to experiment with the concept), this amused me:

How to make the perfect BW (oops) BR sandwich:

Is anyone else amused by the descriptions on packets of purchased sandwiches these days? Not being able to eat bread (and being frugal at heart), I don't ever buy sandwiches, but I do look at the packaging sometimes, just to giggle at the flowery redundant consumeristic language.

Consumer Witch strikes again

Main landline: Rring rrring *displays 0800- number*

BW: [Thinks]: Ah, a cold caller, lovely, I could do with some fun *stirs chilli for dinner and pops it into the bottom of the Aga before picking up the phone just before the answerphone does*

BW: [slowly, in best phone voice] Hello, Blue Witch speaking.

Main landline: [pauses, clicks] Err, hello, this is Paul calling for, erm, erm, Mrs BW, can I speak to Mrs BW?

BW: You are, as I said quite clearly when I picked up the phone, but you wouldn't have heard that as you're in a call centre which is running auto-calling. A call centre which clearly doesn't adhere to the code of practice of the Telephone Preference Scheme as you've called me.

Paul: I'm calling from [name of The Coven electricity supplier].

BW: Yes, and I've told your people before that I don't take sales calls. Moreover, if you are calling on this number you have also broken the Data Protection Act as I only ever give this number to utility companies when there is a problem with my service, and then only as a contact for that occasion only. I always make that very clear. This number should not be on your database. And you should not be calling it.

Paul: Anyways, I'm calling to tell you about our superb offer on landline prices.

BW: Do you have learning difficulties?

Paul: Erm... no... erm... why?

BW: Because a lifetime of working with people who have tells me that they tend not to always understand what I say very well, but, as you assure me that you haven't, then I'll have to assume you deliberately failed to hear what I said.

Paul: Oh... but this is a really good deal, it's so good that I've even switched to it myself.

BW: Trust me, it isn't a good deal. And if you really have switched to it, then you could have been wrong in your answer to my previous question.

Paul: Pardon?

BW: Both my landlines are on the best possible deal: pay for line rental a year ahead, and then only use over-ride call providers (at 5p per landline call) for calls.

Paul: How much is that then?

BW: £120 for the BT one, £114 for the TalkTalk one. Each saves around half its cost per year by you paying up front.

Paul: Wow, that's way better than our offer!

BW: As I said at the outset. Now, off you go, and do do your research before believing what's written on your carefully-prepared by your scum-bag marketing department script in future.

Paul: Oh god, I've only just changed and I think it was a two year contract!

BW: And can you go on conning other people now? I couldn't...

Paul: I hate this bloody job!

*******************************

And, further to one of the comments under my last post, Verity clearly has developed Witchy Powers: Radio 4 at 12.30pm today - a half-hour Face the Facts programme about crime on cruise ships. Scary listening. I had no idea.

Thanks too for the ideas for the Nice Ladies Show Exhibit. We managed to come up with two excellent ways of staging, one for each theme, but couldn't come up with good-enough connected ideas for the items required, so I suspect I've got 30-odd more hours than I expected this summer. Excellent.

No Wikipedia today, thanks to the nutters in America. Hard to believe that Wikipedia hasn't been with us for more than... what, eight, nine years? I can't remember, and it's not around to ask! Yes, yes, other sources are available (and there are ways around, if you can be bothered to fiddle, or use a mobile device, but...

The internet is threatened so the people who control the presentation of information take action by blacking out? I'm not quite sure about that. Some internety companies are just too powerful now. And will get more powerful the more the social media bods give away their personal information. I doubt that was what Tim Berners-Lee had in mind when he invented it.

Monday Monday

Anyone for a cruise? Lots going cheap I understand...

Personally I can't think of anything worse than being locked in a closed environment with thousands of other people, with bright lights and extraneous noise, fed over-rich food and made to sit on tables with other people, at set times, and forced to buy over-priced alcohol, and give tips irrespective of standard of service, having to change outfits several times a day and wear a dress (and make up) for dinner, and only being allowed ashore in commercial meccas where consumerism is the god. I think I would rather spend two weeks in a prison than on a cruise ship.

Something that came up today amazed me... how would you multipy a number by 4? For example (as the method might vary according to the number), 64, or 224? No right and wrong answers, I'm just interested.

And finally, what will the world be like in 100 years time? Depressing reading. Please stop breeding folks. It always amuses me that some of the people I know who claim to be greenest have more than the replacement number of children for themselves.

The Friday Question

Strange week.

Nothing much happening here, except that Mr BW got taken to lunch at The Ivy and still managed a huge pasta dinner five hours later (and spotted two minor 'celbs', so minor that I've forgotten who they were), and then went to France for a few days. I bumbled about doing not much. Trying to declutter but failing miserably as the old objets I so love are the result of past people not decluttering. Had they decluttered the way their contemporaries did, I would not be able to enjoy ancient objets now. And I feel that I should do my bit for future people like me who will like today's objets tomorrow. If you see what I mean... Mr BW doesn't; he reckons it's an excuse for inaction and hoarding. He doesn't understand.

But, one of those weeks where three people we know have died (and several others are in hospital for serious surgery, or awaiting investigation of recurring serious conditions).

No family members dead, fortunately, but the wife of one of Mr BW's colleagues (early thirties, two small children), and one of the first Nice Ladies to befriend me when we moved here in 1995 (a bubbly, enthusiastic, and efficient person who I liked very much) died unexpectedly, and so far inexplicably (although I think three 'nurses' who continued to chat, gossip, play on their phones and on the computer when her husband told them repeatedly that his wife seemed very unwell when he visited the evening before she was due to be discharged the next morning will be facing professional negligence charges, not that that will bring her back, but it might stop another person dying in similar appalling circumstances), 24 hours after not-major keyhole surgery. Only late 60s. I am totally in shock. I really cannot believe that this could have happened, in this day and age. Except that I can, given the hospital in which it happened. I've been plucking up the courage to go and see her husband (who I know well) all morning. What does one say in such circumstances?

On the subject of Nice Ladies, I shouldn't have done such a good job with the FOTCR™ tree project as I've now been asked to mastermind the summer regional show project. Problem being, I am distinctly lukewarm about it, and need some creative ideas that step beyond the obvious. Hopefully before Tuesday. Question in the comments box to avoid Mr Google's goggling.

Weather changing from mildest for umpteen years to normal for the time of year imminently. From ten to minus four at night apparently. That's going to be a shock for all the spring bulbs that have put in an unseasonally early appearance.

January, sick and tired, you've been hanging on me

It's three weeks today since I last went food shopping, give or take the odd few pints of milk.

We now need milk again, and yoghurt, although that could be stretched another couple of days if we eat the month past its date unopened natural yoghurt instead of giving it to the hens. And, we could probably still feed (at least) 200 (or survive another few weeks) on what's left in the freezers and cupboards. As long as they (we) weren't too fussy about the permutations.

I've just proved that if we had a house cow we could be self-sufficient. As I always suspected.

I hate January.

Especially when it's mild and grey.

I can't find any motivation, although I have been reading fiction for the first time in yonks... this series of books. Not terribly well-written (although that is part of the charm), certainly not demanding, and probably not of interest to anyone who hasn't taught in a small rural school 30 years ago, but it's made me remember all sorts of things I didn't know I still knew. And, as a test, I tried writing down the names of the 38 six and seven year olds in my first proper class. I managed it! Given that I can't remember the names of all 15 of my Patchy Ladies, I have further evidence for my suspected cognitive decline. It occurred to me that they'd all be in their early thirties now. The first Pupils BW, not the Patchy Ladies, I hasten to add. Like some of my readers. Ahem. I suddenly feel very old.

I don't want to go shopping.

I was going to go before I met up with the Patchy Ladies this morning. But I've bumbled around and now won't have time. So I'll have to go late afternoon. Or tomorrow. Mr BW's gone off to France on business so I can eat anything I like. Maybe I'll wait until next week.

Thought for the day

Time you enjoyed wasting is not wasted time.

- T. S. Elliot

The Friday Question

What's the first website you check every day?

Mine's the bank, because I run our current account at one bank (who only give 0.25% on instantly accessible savings) by transferring money from another bank who pay 3% by Faster Payment. I could use the second bank for day-to-day transactions, but I choose not to as their customer service is too appalling, and one cannot be certain when they will send bill payments. Beat the bankers at their own game in every little way, I say. Although one could say that losing over 2% to inflation per year, while the banks charge double digit interest rates to borrowers who they are lending savers' money, isn't a great win...

Oh - and - did you know about the new EU directive on speed of electronic payments? At last, the EU does something sensible, in consumers' interest, and banks have to stop profiteering by holding money in their systems for no good reason. Electronic money transfer payments (including high value, and payments to credit cards, which have been notoriously unecessarily delayed previously) now have to go through within one working day within the EU. Now, let's see who complies.

What's the first website you check every day?

It's true...

...those of us over 45 are officially in cognitive decline. I've noticed it personally, and have been telling everyone I know this for the past six months. Previous research has suggested that the onset of decline only starts after 60. It's not just me! I am vindicated! (And well done to the reader who reassuringly/perceptively pointed out to me that I was likely to be noticing more than others due to my professional background/experience in this area, also vindicated).

Now let's see what the media do with this info... let's start by thinking about the fact that we're now all working to 67/68 before we can get a state pension, and that most of the jobs a 67/68 year old will be able to do won't be those involving physical skills. Ah, great times ahead.

Wind wind go away come again another day (but not for a while)

When will this wind blow itself out? I've never known anything like it. The hens don't know what to do with themselves. Everywhere I've been there are roads closed due to fallen down trees. Apparently men with chainsaws are at a premium. I did consider being a woman with a chainsaw, briefly, but then I remembered how much I like my limbs, and the point on my hat.

Today we have had wind, hail, wind, sun, wind, torrential rain (bashing on the windows on all four sides of the house at once), wind, greyness, wind, and more wind. Oh, and, a bit more wind.

Still, at least it's not cold. Ten-ish degrees C.

Yesterday we had no water for several hours. The wind apparently caused a burst pipe underground (yes, that's what I thought) a mile down the lane, and this morning early and this afternoon earlier we had power cuts. Minutes the first time, two hours the second time.

Still, it could be worse: there are five very tall poplar trees opposite. There were six, but one fell down in The Great Storm of 1987. Tempt fate, me? ;) I was living in south Somerset in 1987, where damage was severe, and I managed to sleep right through the storm, but last night kept us awake, and it hasn't got much better since. As it's getting dark it seems to be speeding up again.

How is it where you are?

Nine nine nine

Has everyone finished reviewing last year and previewing this year yet?
Is it safe to come out again?

I'm nine blog years old. Today.

Where did all that time go?

Not many of my original blog buddies left blogging now, sadly. Blogging's not what it was, and I miss those heady early days. I really should get round to doing something about updating the sidebar, but the whole lot is just too precarious. Like most things, I find it's best to leave well alone if it ain't broke.

Where did the ten days of the FOTCR™ holiday go? We went out on two days only, and had a visitor on one afternoon. Very unsociable, us. The rest of the time flew by, and we weren't sitting around either.

Which leads me neatly onto my 9 Witchy Best Money Saving Tips (9 tips, 9th blogday, see?):

Best money saving tip: grow, create, and fix. Then you don't need to (/have time to) go out and spend (/need to spend).

Second best money saving tip: learn what's important and what isn't, and let what isn't go. This applies to things and to people: it's amazing the positive effect that withdrawing quietly from past-their-sell-by-date relationships or unwanted, unrewarding responsibilities can have on you.

Third best money saving tip: pay off your mortgage, by whatever means you can: it's the only way to liberation.

Fourth best money-saving tip: don't have kids and don't eat dead animals.

Fifth best money-saving tip: don't be a fashion, gadget, or product victim. If you find something you like, at a good price, buy two and put one in store: next time you need one, it won't be as well made, if it's made at all. Bulk buy when things you use are on offer, if you can afford it. And don't discount Aldi.

Sixth best money-saving tip: don't buy it if you can borrow it or make it - trade skills with friends and use your library.

Seventh best money-saving tip: never leave the house without a bottle of liquid to drink: just £2 spent on drinks out every day is well over £700 a year (ditto spending on everything else of low value but high frequency, such as newspapers, magazines, sandwiches, sweets).

Eighth best money saving tip: get a cashback credit card and use it for absolutely everything. For every pound you spend you get (at least, depending on which one you choose) a penny back. And they soon add up. Choose your card wisely, and you get all sorts of free associated benefits: event cancellation, extended warranties, travel insurance etc. BUT, unless it has a 0% on purchases offer, never, ever, leave a balance outstanding on a credit card, and always set up a direct debit to pay at least the minimum payment to avoid late payment charges and black marks on your credit file.

Ninth best money-saving tip: no matter how little you have coming in, always make sure you save something every month. As a Charles Dickens character said, "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pound ought and six, result misery."

Actually, just thinking, I've changed my mind (but I'm not going to rewrite them all now, I'm making this up as I go along, no thought at all, probably obviously), the most important thing is definitely to make sure you live with someone who shares your values and beliefs, especially about money and its uses and abuses and comparative importance.

Has anyone else noticed how much less food they eat as they get older? Mr BW decreed (I hasten to add, for the sake of our waistlines rather than our expenditure) that we could only have two meals a day during the festive period, and we seem to have lots left, despite not having bought that much in the first place. Apart from milk, I won't need to have gone shopping between 20th December and next week (excellent grammar on your blogday BW ;)). And, had we had the room in the freezer that we now do (having had a good clear out and hen feast), I wouldn't even have to go out for that. Given that I hate shopping, that is an extremely good thing.

I keep seeing men who look like Amish (ie beard no moustache)... is this a new trend?

Our long-term Money Saving Ways seem to have become remarkably trendy recently. I need a new strapline for my blogday...