Small Town Scribbles

IN WHICH SCRIBBLES SOLVES THE WORLD'S ENERGY CRISIS

2009-11-10T22:28:00.002+01:00

So, it would seem that the world is running out of oil a tad quicker than we were lead to believe, yet we are still dithering about wondering whether we should go coal, nuclear or wind as if we had a few more centuries before we needed to make up our minds. At this rate we'll be building the new power stations in the dark with hand tools.

I have a better idea however. Why don't we harness the natural energy of the planet's children? Have you ever studied one? They can go on and on and on and on, with hardly much more than a bowl of coco pops, a sandwich and a few turkey dinosaurs and french fries to fuel them up.

In a futile effort to 'wear our kids out' (every parent's dream, I find) we've been taking our kids to soft play areas - huge jungles of slides, ropes and playframes - and allowed them to go mad for a few hours. But it does nothing. It hardly takes a sip of their oceanic energy reserves. They come home and they want to play bowling on the wii. Whilst Mr Scribbles and I can barely keep our eyes open during tea-time, they want to play after they've eaten, with cars, with board games, with marbles, with dolls.

They don't even need sleep. I feel myself sliding down the slip-road to the land of nod even as I read Alice in Wonderland to them in bed, but their little heads won't even stay on the pillow and they want me to read more and more and more and more.

Instead of spilling this precious natural resource in the soft play centres of the world, why aren't we harnessing it? We could build special places where the kids are wired up to energy collecting machines as they run around "playing" whilst the parents get to sit nearby reading newspapers and drinking coffee (just to keep a eye on things). These centres would be cheaper to build than coal stations, safer the nuclear power stations (as long as the kids are not fed too many E numbers), and cheaper than both. The only running costs would be supplies of Frubes and Fruit Shoots.

I can't believe no one else has thought of this before now. We can all relax and bathe in oil if we wish because we don't need it anymore.

IN WHICH SCRIBBLES BECOMES A PARENT

2009-11-06T22:54:00.002+01:00

Oh yes, I have become a parent. Our two adopted children moved into Scribbles Towers yesterday.

I have found that children are another country, both in terms of language and culture and preferred TV programmes. I suspect that there will be parenty type posts here on STS as I try to come to terms with my strange new life and I do hope that won't come as too much of a shock to you, dear, loyal, reader.

My husband and I are giving the Kerplunk a rest tonight and watching a Jackie Chan DVD whilst our new son and daughter sleep upstairs in their new bedrooms. I hope they are having sweet dreams.

More as I find the energy and the time ...

WHO PUT BELLA IN THE WYCH ELM?

2009-10-29T20:19:00.007+01:00

I love Halloween with all its pumpkiny spookiness. Later tonight I have one of the creepiest films I have ever seen lined-up to watch on DVD. It's called The Innocents and I recommend it if this Halloween you are looking for a ghosty film to watch made for grown-ups.

Other than that, if you have a spare ten minutes, perhaps you would like to read the fascinating if gruesome tale of Bella. It's a true story and the Hagley Woods and obelisk mentioned in the piece are local to me, and I can tell you the place is eerie enough in the day.

The story starts with a group of young boys finding the decomposed body of a woman in the empty hollow of a whych-elm tree whilst out poaching in the woods. Efforts are made to try and trace who the woman was, when suddenly the graffiti "who put Bella in the Witch Elm?" appears on the side of the obelisk near the woods. Then, spookily enough, the graffiti starts appearing in other places ....

Don't have nightmares!

BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FINDS

2009-10-29T19:57:00.005+01:00

Your Scribbles was excited to hear on radio 4 this morning, in context of something else, that the newspapers were full of the new finds at the Battle of Bosworth. Previous best guesses at where the battle actually took place seem to have not been far off, with a huge cache of pistol bullets and cannonballs having now been found two miles down from where the battle was generally thought to have probably occurred.

Don't know what images come to your mind of a 1485 battle, but I'm seeing bows and arrows, not gun metal. Our History has been altered somewhat.

OK, BUSY STILL

2009-10-17T22:39:00.002+02:00

OK, I was a little optimistic when I thought I was going to be able to post this week. Your Scribbles is working v hard at the moment, but if she wasn't she would have mentioned the anglo saxon loot leaving Birmingham (never did get chance to see it) and the fantastic blasting of the Daily Mail over the Jane Moir article by decent conscientious Internet users.

Don't delete me! I will write again when I get the chance!

NOW, WHERE WERE WE?

2009-10-08T14:21:00.003+02:00

Sorry about that, very rude of me just to go off like that. No explanation. No goodbye. Just a static nothingness of a blog for you to stare at.

If I told you, dear reader, if you are still there, that I have been very very busy with something very very important, then maybe you can forgive me for just pissing off without a word.

I can't say what's been taking up my time yet, but as soon as I get a yes, I'll let you know what I've been up to.

Anyway, there may be posts over the next couple of weeks and so if you find yourself at a loose end, then come on over.

Meantime, I'm off to check out what you've all been up ...

SOME STUDY TELLS BRITISH PEOPLE WHAT THEY ALREADY KNOW

2009-08-10T22:10:00.003+02:00

The Guardian reports that a recent study has concluded that the British are so lazy that they are "in danger of becoming too unfit to perform rudimentary tasks", which makes laziness sound like a bad thing!

And I don't know why it took a study to pick that up; it's been perfectly obvious for some time that British people can't be arsed with most things. Glad to see Birmingham second only to Glasgow as having the most slobs - I would expect nothing less. We know what's important and it's not toned tummies.

Laziness is not so bad. Seems to me that left to their own devices most people manage to be as fit as they need to be. Currently, I need to be fit enough to walk from my car to the office, and visa versa, and sit up straight at a desk all day. I don't see the need to get the dumbbells and treadmill out for that in my spare time. I'd rather have a nap.

True, some people take unfitness to extreme levels and end up stuck in bed the size of a small elephant, having liquidized hamburgers funnelled into their mouths by Feeders, but most of us manage to be unfit within reasonable limits. Whereas fit people are always in danger of spraining an ankle or something and they also move about more doing stuff, using up more of the earth's resources. Laziness is good.

And being fit isn't even sexier than being unfit anymore. Lion Bar Ice Cream say so. The only people who find people who go to the gym really attractive are other people who go to the gym. And gay men. Leave 'em all to it I say.

THE SECRET LIVES OF CATS

2009-07-31T21:13:00.002+02:00

You might have heard about Casper the cat in Plymouth, who regularly goes for a jaunt on the number 3 service.

Mr Scribbles and I have a cat who disappears for most of the day. She's quite an independent free-spirited little Miss, and so one day I fully expect to see a piece on Midlands Today about a black and white fluffy cat who spends her days propping up the bar in the Crown and Anchor drinking Bacardi Breezers and cadging fags off people. That'll be our Betsy.

THANK YOU, MR PATCH

2009-07-31T20:58:00.002+02:00

In honour of Mr Harry Patch, Britain's last living Tommy, who died recently.

Tommy

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o'beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap; An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy how's yer soul?" But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll, The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll, O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints:
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees!

Rudyard Kipling

JULY IN BRITAIN

2009-07-16T19:59:00.003+02:00

Birmingham weather over the next four days

DAY 1: Heavy Rain Shower
DAY 2: Light Rain Shower
DAY 3: Sunny Intervals (in between the rain)
DAY 4: Light Rain Shower

Been to B&Q today 'cause I've decided to build an ark.

SWINE FLU: OH SHIT!

2009-07-16T19:35:00.005+02:00

The other week when we had a heatwave (British version, with lots of rain) I saw an expert on telly saying that he was more worried about the amount of people who would die of the heat than he was about the amount of people who would die of swine flu. Now I've just seen an expert on telly saying swine flu could be a bigger threat to national security than terrorism. Worst case scenario 30% of the population might get it, with a possible 65,000 deaths - I just hope that they don't mean all at the same time because that could mess the country up somewhat. Although, looking on the bright side, at least the traffic would be lighter.

I live in Birmingham and the bloody thing is everywhere. For once, I'm not with those who think this is media hype. The thing is so infectious from where I'm sitting the 30% figure looks an underestimation.

I do wish however that the media would stop saying in such comforting tones that the only people dying from swine flu are the ones with underlying health conditions. I shouldn't imagine that's of much comfort to people with underlying health conditions.

HEATWAVE REPORT

2009-07-02T00:33:00.003+02:00

Until today, the heatwave was pretty crap here in Birmingham. The weather succeeded in being very wet, dull and muggy, which is all the bad stuff about a heatwave with none of the good. It is very odd to drive to work in fog and then have to run to the office from the car being pelted with rain harder than pebbles and hotter than my morning shower.

Today was an improvement. It was actually sunny and it was heartening to see sunrays bounce off those cars - my office overlooks a carpark, which is alright, but I'd prefer a lake or the ocean maybe. I didn't actually get to experience the sun until I got home at 6pm. It's a very sad thing only to get to look at sunlight and not actually be in it.

I note that the year Wimbledon gets a rain-proof roof-thingy, it turns out to be hot and sunny. Ha! Weather has sense of humour.

WE'RE HAVING A HEATWAVE!

2009-06-29T11:00:00.004+02:00

Seriously! Britain is going to string together several days of hot weather this week!

Broken up with a bit of rain and stuff.

Reported in the Guardian here with a headline about a teenager being struck by lightening, which is not the first thing that springs to mind when thinking about a heatwave, but it'll do.

To celebrate (the hot weather, not the lightening strike) here's the Muppets singing Tropical Heatwave.

HADLEY FREEMAN v MICHAEL JACKSON

2009-06-26T21:55:00.009+02:00

Hadley Freeman tries to make a case for why we shouldn't show collective grief about the death of Michael Jackson, because such a thing just leads to "false emotion".

Poor love, she can't differentiate between how people might genuinely feel about the death of a uniquely talented global superstar, and how the media will report it. But not to worry - I think we can learn something from her poorly argued and ill-timed article just the same.

As Hadley is so very scornful of "collective grief", I think that when she shuffles off her mortal coil we should take every care not to do anything that could lead us to this same "false emotion".

I think, when that Big Event happens, that the radio, TV stations and newspapers the world over should just ignore Hadley Freeman's sad passing. I don't think we should give her death any newspaper headlines. I don't think we should spontaneously collect in small groups and chant together her many unforgettable newspaper musings. Radio stations should not devote hours to her talent. We should not make any tributes to her on social networking sites. It would all just be so false, wouldn't it?

Much as I am sure the planet will heave with grief over her loss, I don't think we should get hysterical because clearly she would not want us to.

Certainly, any obituary written should not mention her genius. She did, after all, shag Piers Morgan* and so any celebration of her astounding talent for writing bits of irrelevant stuff in an on-line newspaper would seem a little strange, if not dishonest.

No, I really think that when Hadley Freeman passes away, we should just forget her.**

* No she didn't. Hadley Freeman has never even met Piers Morgan.
** On reflection, bit harsh. Now that I know she didn't shag Piers Morgan she should definitely get an obituary in the broadsheets.

MICHAEL JACKSON: WHAT A TALENT

2009-06-26T21:21:00.004+02:00

Performing Billie Jean, live, 1983

R.I.P.

IRAN

2009-06-22T00:55:00.001+02:00

If anybody is still bleating on about lack of civil liberties in the UK, then Scribbles would like them to look at what is happening in Iran and shut the fuck up.

TERMINATOR SALVATION: THE WORLD IN 2018

2009-06-22T00:02:00.002+02:00

Scribbles is heartened to be able to report that in post-apocalyptic 2018, women still wear make-up and have long glossy hair. It is good to know that Frizz Ease survives nuclear blasts. I think it's important to keep some standards, even if you're losing the desperate fight against a global war to prevent the termination of the human race.

Also, in 2018 people no longer swear. Not even when a great big bloody scary terminating machine creeps up and scares the shit out of you. In a world where humans are crushed, enslaved, hunted down and made to live like rats in sewers, nobody utters a single "fuck". This is progress of sorts, I would say.

GONE WITH THE RAIN

2009-06-10T22:14:00.004+02:00

I had no time to record it on this blog, but I would like to mention for the benefit of readers who do not live in the UK, that for four days (count 'em! Four!) last week the sun absolutely beat it down in the UK and the British experienced a spell of continuous natural heat. For at least three of those days I didn't even think twice about taking a coat out with me. I had to put on sun cream. I was so proud. Britain could still do weather with the best of 'em!

Since then of course it has pissed it down non stop. And it's going to carry on pissing it down for the next week. The electric heaters have gone back on in the office and I am back to wearing jumpers and my long waterproof coat with convenient hood.

I've noticed that it is psychological painful to have to wear winter clothes at this time of year. I yearn to put the sandals on and don pretty tops. I yearn. Like a horse tied up in a stall who wants to be let free to frolic in the fields, all my natural instincts are being thwarted. Whatever it is inside that makes me feel like a woman, it's not having its needs met.

Which reminds me of the article that Julie Bindle wrote in the Guardian recently, my first brush with makeup, in which she states, "I became a lesbian aged 15 and therefore have never experienced the "need" to dress for boys or men." I don't know which puzzles me more, the bit were she "became" a lesbian like it was nothing more than choice, or the bit where she suggests that makeup is merely about women wanting to please the boys.

I wonder if those women in Afghanistan who, at risk of being beaten if discovered, wore makeup under their burkas, knew that they were doing it for the men?

I also wonder if male heterosexual cross-dressers know that too? Those men who risk ridicule, and quite possibly their life as they know it, to fulfill a need to put on wigs and wear high heels and dresses, and cover their face in slap? Do they know they do it for other men?

No! The need to express femininity by painting the face in chemicals and staggering about it uncomfortable but fashionable clothes is something very sacred that sits deep in the female (and sometimes the male) physche. It may very well have its evolutionary beginnings in the need to attract a mate and get a shag in order to procreate, but it remains one of the basic instincts rather than some superficial and superfluous need by modern day women to please their masters.

I dare say I do not speak for all women. Not every woman needs to express of feminine side, but those of us who do know that something like a dress offers the promise of a life that is deliciously removed from the pressures of every day, the repetitiveness of routine, the need to be somewhere, do something, that makes up so much of our time, and transports you instead to something far more enjoyable and gracious. It allows you to dream, to slow down - to be girlish, even.

I want to dream! I need my dress fix God damn it! Red lipstick can only fulfill a girl's needs so far!

As God is my witness, as God is my witness I'm going to live through this rain and when it's all over, I'll never wear jumpers again this summer! If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill! As God is my witness, I will wear a dress this summer.

After all, tomorrow is another day. And it might be sunny.

LABOUR AND THE PHANTOM PHONE CALL

2009-06-10T20:54:00.005+02:00

I was cooking tea the other evening (gnocchi in ricotta and spinach, as you ask) when the phone rang. When I answered it was a recorded message of a soap actress telling me how important it was that I cast my vote for Labour in the forthcoming European elections.

I was a bit spooked to be honest, not because of the message, but because I was thinking it was a bit weird receiving a phone call from someone who I was pretty sure had died. I kept thinking how hearing a voice from beyond the grave was slightly blotting out the message about voting.

Anyway, right at the end of the call, I realised I was listening to the woman who used to play Vera Duckworth in Coronation Street, and it was her character that had died, not the actress. And anyway, I had mixed her up with Wendy Craig, who used to play Pauline Fowler in Eastenders, who had died of cancer around the same time as Jade Goody. The Pauline Fowler character had also died.

There was a certain synergy with the confusion I felt over that call with how I feel about Labour these days. I'm listening to Labour but I can't work out who they are or whether they are still alive.

I always thought Labour would regret getting rid of Blair, but even I couldn't have guessed just how much. Downing Street just hasn't been working under Brown's leadership, we've lost the narrative arch of policy and the press run rings around us. This is Brown's fault. All his fault. Yes, he has had the downturn in the economy to contend with, but Blair kicked off two wars and still managed to set all the agendas. Brown treats his back benchers like rags to polish his ego, making them do things like vote for indefensible counter terrorism bill with its inexplicable and shameful 42 day detention plan, and he has revenge attacks, briefing against talented Ministers and damaging the party because he's been personally affronted by them in some way. Or because they don't have penises, one or the other.

And yet, you know, I don't think Labour is dead. There is still something about Brown that makes me want to believe. I am still willing him to break out of the Gang of Knobs who have surrounded him since he became PM and start to listen to the party members and begin to trust his instinct. I can't believe he thought it felt right to do a Youtube shoot, I can't. He's a good man, he just fell in with the wrong crowd. The spirit of Labour is still there, it just needs the PM to be the man we all know he can be and stop freaking grinning.

I choose to believe at the moment then that Brown's Labour Party is not merely a phantom party that died on Blair's departure, but alive and working. Brown and Co had better start to make themselves look solid soon though because people can't vote for a party that isn't there - as the European elections have taught us.

STAR TREK: REBOOTED

2009-05-27T22:04:00.003+02:00

Saw the new Star Trek film. Do like a good bit of sci fi. Thought was most excellent film. I have never been in space and watched space ship battles, but I feel like I have because it all looked so believable. Space has never looked so cold and beautiful and deadly. It was like watching moving art.

The spirit of the film however is in the tradition of Start Trek, examining moral dilemmas but with a twinkle in its eye. I perhaps could have done without the Scotty-in-the-water-tube scene, but otherwise the humour was subtle and unannounced.

The new James T Kirk was a little pervy, but then he is still a baby. Scribbles sincerely hopes he moves quickly in future films towards the William Shatner's James, although she's worried no one can quite do confidant-affability-with-a-knowing-and-sexy-smile quite like our Bill.

The screen however absolutely belonged to the new Spock. It lurved him. The fight inside Spock between his human passions and his Vulcan rationality was deftly conveyed here and there with an understated body posture or flash of an eye. He managed to be sexier than James T Kirk, which I'm guessing is something you wouldn't be able to imagine until you've see the film.

All the pieces are now in place. Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and Simon Pegg doing us Brits proud as Scotty. Star Trek polished up and ready to boldy go blah blah blah ...

DEATH AND SUMMER

2009-05-25T20:29:00.003+02:00

Summer is on its way I see.

I can tell this not just because it was so hot this weekend I was painting garden furniture wearing pants and a t-shirt, but also because the TV News is full of stories about skin cancer and people drowning in pools.

IN WHICH SCRIBBLES EXPRESSES HER FAITH IN THE BRITISH PEOPLE

2009-05-17T14:29:00.003+02:00

Scribbles is depressed. The MPs' expenses issue at first seemed an overblown story about MPs claiming for minor items like plugs, then it became a laugh-out-loud tale of Tory elitism, and then ... then it got serious.

There has obviously been a culture in Westminster of claiming expenses not just for due recompense, but as a way to make money. I say "obviously", because such practices have been duplicated amongst MPs and gained names such as "flipping".

The fact that Westminster fought to not have to reveal this information really puts paid to any argument that MPs did not know that they were doing anything wrong. It wasn't the 'system' that was the problem, it was the way they were using it.

I should say at this point of course that not every MP has been engaging in these practices or misusing tax payers money. Good for them. Unfortunately the list of MPs who, if not exactly engaging in dodgy practices, have taken the piss, is getting longer by the day. Enough for Westminster's authority to be thoroughly compromised.

Given that most of us operating under the will of Westminster have been enduring the worries that a downturn in the economy have brought, the story that our Lords and Masters have obviously been making hay with our money has lead to some speculation that we might go all go crazy and start running around the country breaking things.

Here for instance:

"The tumbrils are not quite rolling up Whitehall, but MPs now fear the politics of the lynch mob. Bricks were thrown through the constituency office windows of Julie Kirkbride: politicians' wives face abuse in the street; and police are protecting the home of Scunthorpe MP Elliot Morley after revelations that he claimed £16,000 against a mortgage he had already paid off. Voters, says Labour veteran Diane Abbott, want "dead MPs hanging from lamp-posts". Even one of the government's steadiest performers, Margaret Beckett, was booed by the audience on last week's Question Time.

Among ministers, there is now a genuine fear of public disorder. Meltdown, an anarchist collective involved in the G20 protests, is organising an "overthrow the government" day in June, arguing that it is time to move beyond targeting bankers. "The last time it felt like this was probably just before the poll tax riots," recalls one Labour aide."

But do you know what? I think this is projection. I think that Westminster has been a hell-hole of tension this last week and that MPs think that we are feeling it like they are. Oh, we are feeling it alright, but not in the same way they are. They are the ones who are spending their days tensely listening for footsteps along the corridor, they are the ones whose careers and reputations are on the line. They are the ones who are feeling the full weight of their misdeeds, even if we suspect that they don't feel the full guilt of it. Meanwhile, the rest of us mere mortals have our own lives to be getting on with.

I don't think that the European elections will be nearly as bad as people are saying they will be - in terms of people voting for far-right parties anyway. I simply do not believe there are enough people in this country ignorant or nasty enough to vote for parties like the BNP out of spite to make any kind of significant difference. I don't think this will bring down politics as we know it in the UK and any suggestion that it will reflects the hysteria in Westminster better than it predicts the forthcoming actions of the people.

There is nothing for it but for each and every MP to search their souls, take the public mood to heart, and never do anything like this to us again.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!

2009-05-10T00:21:00.004+02:00

Can't take no more of this.

I am really sorry that this country obviously has enough sad and bitter people in it for the Media to realise that what Barbara Follett spends her expenses on can be made into headline news, but I couldn't give a flying jacuzzi. And as long as the media keep presenting MP's expenses as an evil one notch down from genocide then I will continue not to give a flying jacuzzi.

Why has The News got to be like this? Why? What happened to presenting facts? Imparting information in an impartial way? Why do TV newsreaders feel they have to coat these stories in 'outrage' and 'anger'. How many times do they have to start off a piece saying "There is growing anger tonight ...". What growing anger? From whom? From where?

We are being told there is 'anger' tonight because the TV News know that their mostly dumb-downed audience will understand this as an instruction to feel the 'anger' they talk about. And if there really is anger on all those Internet message boards and those e-mails to ITV, well that makes it an EVEN BIGGER STORY and so they can just go on and on and on and on and on until they all pee themselves with glee.

Byt then even the Guardian makes it headlines news over and above the extraordinary events in Pakistan.

Well, just so it is absolutely clear, the only anger I feel about this non-story is aimed at the quality of TV News in this county.

NOT IN MY NAME, you bunch of inhuman, dead-eyed, auto-queue reading bores.

UPDATE:
I take it all back! Things just got hilarious. Tories claiming expenses for clearing out their moats and hanging chandeliers in their "main manor house". Haven't been able to stop laughing all day.

SWINE FLU: WHAT TO DO

2009-05-05T17:58:00.005+02:00

Here's the leaflet that will be coming through all of our doors soon, giving us information about swine flu.

Scribbles hates to express a lack of faith in her fellow country people, but she can tell you now what most Britons will do from the moment they feel a sneeze coming on:

ONE: Turn up to work and make a big thing about snotting into tissues, just so that everyone gets to know what a brave little soldier they are for coming into work ill. Spread illness amongst colleagues.

TWO Within an hour of being in work book an emergency appointment with their GP to ask for antibiotics.

THREE Take time off work, and only come back when there is a workmate's birthday drinks thing on that they don't want to be left out of.

HAIR UPDATE

2009-05-04T21:08:00.003+02:00

I know how you like to know what is happening with my hair, and so just to let you know I have had it cut very very short. And I've stopped dying it for the first time since I was thirteen years old. Turns out my natural hair colour is a light brown with shades of mahogany.

I feel oddly vulnerable leaving my hair its natural colour. Like I'm doing something wrong and inviting ridicule upon myself. And yet having it so short feels right, like it's how it was always meant to be. Like I'm returning to my natural state. But I haven't had my hair this short since I was about six months old, so it's not like I have ever been used to it.

Length of hair is very symbolic, is it not? It's pretty much the embodiment of feminism in a woman and hippy-slackerishness in a man. Yet, I don't feel less feminine at all with short hair and I haven't noticed anyone relating to me any differently. But then, not many people ever related to me as a woman much before, if you know what I mean. People generally interact with me for my usefulness or entertainment value. But maybe that's more to do with the fact that I'm an old married woman. Or ugly. Or maybe I smell and no one has ever told me.

Anyway, short natural hair it is for a while.