Retired and Crazy

STOP THE WORLD, I WANT TO GET OFF

2009-06-24T13:04:00.002+01:00

It has been commented to me that in "retirement" OG and I have become excessively and sometimes exhaustingly busy. Take the last three days for example. Between us we transported our favourite grandson-in-law between coaching assignments four times, took a great granddaughter to school and back three times, baby sat her sick sister for four hours, went clothes shopping with a granddaugher, took a grandson to buy his birthday present, took him swimming and drum practice, took the car in for MOT, went for a leisurely lunch with a daughter, shoehorned in visits to the dentist, hairdresser and doctors and in our free time watched a bit of Wimbledon!.

The most exhausting part was working out the logistics. This week, because of the complexity of our commitments, I actually had to compile a spreadsheet! Matters were not improved when I suddenly thought that Monday was Tuesday and turned up at the dentist a day early.

And finally…. I was sent this by DogLover. Don’t you just love it?

A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in California when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, Will you give me a calf?" Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?"

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg , Germany . Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."

"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says Bud. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car. Then Bud says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?" “You're a Congressman for the U.S. Government", says Bud. "Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"

"No guessing required." answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about how working people make a living - or about cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep. Now give me back my dog.”

SATNAV MALFUNCTION (AGAIN)

2009-06-21T17:01:00.004+01:00

I would like to state right here and now, without any contradiction, that SatNavs are not completely at home in a city. In fact last Wednesday mine got me hopeless lost in Nottingham.

“At the next roundabout take the 6th exit” she said with authority.

“What 6th exit you dumbo? There are only 4 exits. Ah well, I’ll take the last exit, which happens to be the 4th exit you illiterate bitch”

“At the next roundabout take the 4th exit”

“But that takes me back to the roundabout where you told me to take the 6th exit that doesn’t exist and got me into this mess in the first place. Are you sure about this? But, hey, you’re the expert. I’ll tell you what, I’ll ignore you and take the 3rd exit, so there!”

“Prepare to turn right, turn right now”

This takes me down a side road.

“When safe to do so, make a U turn”

“Turn left”. “But that takes me back to the original roundabout.” She was speechless. I guess she had reserved the right to remain silent.

I had now lost the will to live. An added complexity was that each roundabout had priority lanes. And have you ever noticed that men are particularly pernickety and don’t seem to take kindly to old ladies in powerful cars cutting them up at roundabouts? Bastards! I must confess that I had to use a few finger and/or hand signals and the odd poking out of the tongue movement to release the tension and get my message across.

But I digress. So … ignoring the imbecilic SatNav idiot I plough on and finally unwind myself from the two offending roundabouts. She settles down for a while until - “Prepare to bear left”. I prepare. "Bear left" I bear left. “Turn left”. Complied with. “Turn left”. Also complied with.

“Prepare to bear left”. “But we’ve done this before you silly cow”. At this point I am again committed and find myself going past the same group of businessmen that I had seen gawp at the car a couple of minutes ago on my first circuit. I slow down

Laughing and shrugging out of the window I explain “SatNav malfunction I’m afraid”

They laugh too “Thought so, where are looking for”

“Arthur Street”

Head scratching, “That’s not around here”. You ain't kidding, I'd already worked that one out! Heads together, discussion, and then suddenly “She’s driving an S6V10". Well, stop the world, it’s an S6V10! Three regular booted and suited businessmen suddenly become little boys. “That’s got a Lamborghini engine”. They mill around making boy talk and salivating. “Hey, hey, let’s get back to where it’s at – Arthur Street?” Men!

The only high point of this whole sorry saga was that OG wasn’t sitting alongside me doing his rocking, head in the hands, shouting and moaning act.

When I finally arrived home I said to OG

“Did you know that car has a Lamborghini engine?”

“No”

“No, neither did I!”

And finally … I believe that your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.

ONLY IN ENGLAND

2009-06-14T15:11:00.014+01:00

Yesterday we went to what I always think of as a typically English event, a summer fete. An event that was attended by all ages, shapes, sizes, and creeds proving to me that England is still uniquely alive and well and living in Nottingham. I sometimes become jaded thinking that everything about this Country is slowly sliding downhill, when along comes a little gem like this to thankfully prove me wrong.

And the icing on the cake was that one of our esteemed and talented grandsons was singing with his band Buff Orpington. http://www.myspace.com/chickensounds Their “slot” was sandwiched between a very elderly lady singing a medley of show songs followed by a mad rendition of a Stanley Holloway monologue “The Return of Albert" http://homepage.ntlworld.com/barnicle/stanley/words/albert comes back.htm and them came a very funny guy reciting his own poetry. Only in England!

This "Englishness" reminds me of the time OG and I were in a small village church in Surrey one Armistice Day Sunday. The place was filled with “old soldiers” prouding displaying their medals. In the middle of the service, when the congregation was at full throttle singing a rousing hymn, one of these good old boys started breathing very hard and began tilting to one side.

The service continued unabated whilst the man behind him very carefully moved his chair and gently caught him as he slithered toward the floor.

The service continued, with the vicar giving his sermon while the man continued to writhe on the floor making strange sounds. A while late, with the service still in full swing, two ambulance men trotted in with a stretcher, lifted him on to it and took him away. OG, being Scottish and quite volatile himself, is always very bemused but nevertheless impressed with this extreme form of English stoicism. He leant toward me and whispered in amazement “I suppose this is what makes England great”.

The next week the vicar was happy to announce that the gentleman had recovered. Only in England!

And finally …. the gene pool could use a little chlorine

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IS THIS WHAT IT HAS COME TO?

2009-06-08T13:47:00.007+01:00

Dear Mr Brown,

You say that you are not going to resign because “I am going to get on with the job that I set myself. People know I am determined and people know I work hard and people know that I am not going to allow temporary setbacks to deter me from doing what is the right thing for the country.

I am not arrogant or unwilling to listen to people but I do believe that if people look towards what needs to be done at the moment, it is to get us through this economic downturn. I think I have got the experience to do that.”

Fine words, but unfortunately, your actions don’t match these noble sentiments. If you really believe that we are only suffering “temporary setbacks” consider this.

Last June the lives of Gabriel Ferez and Laurent Bonomo, two brilliant French biochemistry graduates on a three-month course on genetic developments at Imperial College, London, were tragically bought to an end. One evening, by chance, their paths crossed Nigel Farmer and Daniel Sonnex who followed them home and tortured them for their PIN numbers, stabbing them more that 200 times before burning their bodies.

This tragedy happened as a direct result of systemic failures in the Criminal Justice System which allowed Daniel Sonnex, a dangerous psychopath who had spent all but 4 months of his adult life in prison and who had already admitted to the prison psychiatrist that he had homicidal tendancies to roam the streets.

A couple of days before the killings a Magistrates Court had baled Daniel Sonnex because the printer wasn’t working at the Probation Office to process the paperwork to hold him.

A prison psychitrist had previously downgraded his danger level to moderate and consequently the probation officer entrused with overseeing this dangerous psychopath was a rookie with only 9 months experience and a 171 case load.

The Police who, once alerted to the fact that Daniel Sonnex should be urgently detained. took two weeks to process the request and so on, and so on.

During the trial Gabriel's father Oliver Ferez told the judge that it took immense strength for him not to collapse under the strain of his grief. He said “I am finding myself for the first time in my life sitting in a criminal court and I have found it very difficult to just listen. The language barrier of course has reinforced my feeling of isolation.

A story like ours destroys you very rapidly on all levels, it destroys the family, psychologically and financially, and it is a drama at all levels. This tragedy has given me to feel disappointment, revolt, bitterness.

I might also tell you that every morning on my way to work, I cry, always at the same hour. I no longer know how to answer people when they ask how many children I have. I might tell you that I feel ashamed of laughing now. I might tell you that I look elsewhere whenever I come across the sight of a wedding, of other people's happiness because the display of their joy is like so many stab wounds to my heart.

This is now what my daily life is like, and that of Hélène and Amaury, my two other children, Gabriel's sister and brother. Their big brother is no longer here to love them and protect them.

We will remain forever inconsolable and the weight of our tears and suffering has broken our lives. No child, no individual should have to put up with such barbarity.”

No-one can possibly understand the anguish, grief and bewilderment of these two families. They probably thought that thier sons were staying in a civilized society, totally unaware that the crazy PC brigade had handed the lunatics total control of the asylum.

Mr Brown, you have been Chancellor and then Prime Minister for over a decade, and I am pleading with you to tell us why this Country is systematically being run into the ground. So much so that it has become acceptable to allow animals like this to stagger drunk and drugged up through our green and pleasant land. If it’s not your responsiblity then you had better tell us who is wrecking this County, because we need to put a stop to this madness right now.

Yours sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen

And finally.......I believe that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

THE JOYS OF SAT-NAV

2009-05-31T11:57:00.002+01:00

It doesn’t seem like a week ago that we went to the Chelsea Flower Show, the start of that quintessentially English happening known as “The Season”. And we did it in style, with “hospitality” of coffee and pastries on arrival, a three-course lunch with fine wine, afternoon tea and copious amounts of champagne, Pimms, coffee and what-have-you throughout the day.

Not for us the trauma of having to queue for the loo and a cup of tea. Oh no, we had our own private loos and waitress service in our little haven of tranquillity. Occasionally we even ventured out into the mob to marvel at the gardens and plants. That’s the way to do it. Next year I want to “do” hospitality at Henley, another event in “The Season”. Well I can dream can’t I?

Back to earth again saw me a few days later enjoying the eccentricities of a sat-nav that had directed sporty grandson-in-law and me (the driver) into a pedestrian precinct driving very slowly behind a blind man who was tap, tap, tapping his way along the middle of the road, totally unaware that we were impatiently following. You couldn’t make it up could you?

And something else that you couldn’t make up, (or wouldn’t want to!) is that one of the very ordinary village schools where sporty grandson-in-law works as a coach has to employ a very unordinary professional restrainer because some of the children are so disruptive. What on earth is happening to us? No, don’t get me started again.

So - Gordon Brown wants MPs to agree to a legally binding code of conduct as part of a plan to "clean-up" Parliament. Clean up Parliament? Ha, bloody, ha. Like he didn't create, condone and cause the problem in the first place!

And finally … the original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.

OK, THE LAST FINAL, FINAL SAY

2009-05-25T13:07:00.003+01:00

Don't ask me why, but this mornings lastest exepenses scandal revalation really made me madder than most. It was the fact that MP's, apparently, are allowed to claim accountancy and legal fees for their own personal tax affairs.

The way that is works in the "real world" that I inhabit is that we pay an accounant to submit our company's tax returns and we occasionally have to pay for legal advice, both legitimate business expenses.

However, I pay an accountant to submit my own returns out of my own money. I do this for one reason. I don't use my company's money as my own personal money pit and if I did it would be treated as income and taxed. Are MP's being taxed? I doubt it.

But, there are some good things happening in the world. I liked the story of the old lady of 109 who complained to the Queen that in all the birthday cards she had received since she reached the ripe old age of 100 the Queen has been wearing the same yellow dress. So, Prince William stopped by to apologise for his granny and promised that in future she would change her outfit. Ah!

MY FINAL WORD ON PATHETIC POLITICIANS

2009-05-22T09:05:00.005+01:00

Five surgeons from big cities are discussing who makes the best patients to operate on.

The first surgeon, from New York, says, "I like to see accountants on my operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered."

The second, from Chicago , responds, "Yeah, but you should try electricians! everything inside them is colour coded."

The third surgeon, from Dallas , says, "No, I really think librarians are the best, everything inside them is in alphabetical order"

The fourth surgeon, from Los Angeles chimes in: "You know, I like construction workers... Those guys always under stand when you have a few parts left over."

But the fifth surgeon, from Washington, DC shut them all up when he observed: "You're all wrong.................. politicians are the easiest to operate on. There's no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains and no spine, and the head and the ass are interchangeable.

....and while I'm in a pissy mood - on to the NHS and the EMERGECY follow up of OG's suspected TIA (aka migraine). He received an appointment for the promised doppler scan and as instructed presented himself at the designated clinic to be told that the doctor was running 2 hours late. As instructed OG re-presented himself again two hours later, saw the doctor, who looked at the brain scan, scratched his head and said he that the result was not conclusive he would need to have another one. I asked OG "What about the doppler then?" "Oh, I forgot to ask". Right!

This Monday he received an appointment letter to see the doctor again on 9th June and the next day an appointment for a HEART scan on the 15th June. OG already has an appointment to see his cancer surgeon on 15th June so he 'phoned, as instructed, to say he couldn't keep the appointment for the HEART scan and another appointment was re-arranged for 27th JULY. Are you with me so far? So......on 9th June he will see the doctor to discuss the brain scan than hasn't been arranged and on 27th July will go for a HEART scan that hasn't been requested. In the meantime, when do they propose to do the doppler?

I've got a good plan, lets pour more of our borrowed money into this black hole of a money pit!

And finally ... never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative.

SAME OLD, SAME OLD

2009-05-18T16:09:00.001+01:00

Oliver Cromwell's Speech on the Dissolution of the Long Parliament
Given to the House of Commons 20 April 1653

It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money.

Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter'd your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth?

Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil'd this sacred place, and turn'd the Lord's temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress'd, are yourselves gone!

So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the name of God, go!

MOOD RING

2009-05-16T14:53:00.004+01:00

My husband, being unhappy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods.

We've discovered that when I'm in a good mood it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his fuc*ing forehead.

Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond.

And finally ..... there are two theories to arguing with a woman - neither one works.

DOCTOR, MY BRAIN HURTS

2009-05-14T06:38:00.006+01:00

"Ann"
"What?"
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs"
"You'll have to come down"
Shit, I was 15 minutes of swearing my way through a call centre maze and was just about to speak to a human being.
"What is it?"
"Come down"
Very ungraciously I stomped my way down the stairs. He was sitting on a chair looking dreadful.
"I need help".
Suddenly all my caring and practical instincts kicked in - big time!
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, I can't use my arm". Then his leg went numb, the side of his face dropped and he started slurring his speech. The TV infomercial of the man having a stroke flashed into my mind and I bundled him into the car, mind racing - doctors or hospital -which? I plumped for the doctor because it's nearest.

To cut a long story short, we were immediately seen by the doctor who, on examing him, 'phoned the hospital to get him admitted. The 'phone was answered but put down again. After several minutes the doctor said "I can hear them speaking, but them seem to have laid the 'phone down on the desk" She re-dialed but because they had the 'phone off the hook the line was busy.
Tongue in cheek I said "Good job it's not an emergency then!"
She laughed nervously, "It IS an emergency"
"Look, why don't you hold on for them and I'll drive him over there now"
"Good idea, go straight there and if he gets worse on the journey stop the car and call an ambulance".

Well, OG, being OG, insisted that we call into the house to pick up various bits and bobs that he needed to take with him.

To cut a long story short (again) by the time we got to the hospital he was displaying all signs of the episode being a migraine but they fast tracked him, did a brain scan and a blood test, found he didn't have a brain but the blood tests were fine and after an afternoon of him sleeping and me eating my way out of the problem we were allowed home in time for tea. Too much excitement for two Senior Citizens.

As my friend JeanGenius would say "Another Ho! Hum! day in paradise".

CHELSEA FLOWER SHOW HERE WE COME

2009-05-10T08:50:00.006+01:00

OG just reminded me of the day that I was about leave to spend summer in the Alps. He was working on my daughter's swimming pool that day. To help me cope with impending retirement I started writing this blog and had jokingly called my co-workers "the bloodless bottom line committee". Before setting off I called into the office to make sure everything was OK to be met by a maelstrom of PMS women wailing and gnashing their teeth. I had disrepected them. I couldn't believe it. Humour, joke, but they wouldn't be pursuaded. I dash over to consult with a muddy OG. I said I had better not go, he said "nonsense, leave it to me". He calmed things down alright by reminding them that I'm insane and shouldn't be taken seriously. Job done.

Perversly, since this happened and they understand how the blog works they complain that I never write about them. OG said that they missed their opportunity for fame. Oh we do have fun in our office and the crazy thing is that all these years later I am still not completely retired! That'll learn 'em.

But that was then and this is now. In a couple of weeks I go to the Chelsea Flower Show with OG's first wife, their daughter and my mad mate JeanGenius whose claim to fame is that she was the youngest female officer in the Royal Navy. An odd assortment of people you might think and you would be right. The thing that we have in common is that we all enjoy badmouthing OG and appreciate a good drink. So on May 23rd we take the train up to London for a VIP day out. My step-daughter read that it would be best to take a cagoule but I said "if it rains I ain't going to step outside that VIP marquee for anyone, just pour me another drink". Should be fun.

And finally ... solution to the Global Financial Crisis?

It is August. In a small town on the South Coast of France, holiday season is in full swing, but it is raining so there is not too much business happening. Everyone is heavily in debt. Luckily, a rich Russian tourist arrives in the foyer of the small local hotel. He asks for a room and puts a Euro100 note on the reception counter, takes a key and goes to inspect the room located up the stairs on the third floor.

The hotel owner takes the banknote in hurry and rushes to his meat supplier to whom he owes E100.

The butcher takes the money and races to his wholesale supplier to pay his debt.

The wholesaler rushes to the farmer to pay E100 for pigs he purchased some time ago.

The farmer triumphantly gives the E100 note to a local prostitute who gave him her services on credit.

The prostitute goes quickly to the hotel, as she owed the hotel for her hourly room use to entertain clients.

At that moment, the rich Russian is coming down to reception and informs the hotel owner that the proposed room is unsatisfactory and takes his E100 back and departs.

There was no profit or income. But everyone no longer has any debt and the small town people look optimistically towards their future.

COULD THIS BE THE SOLUTION TO THE Global Financial Crisis? Or, is there a catch here ?!!

ANY ROOM AT THE INN FOR A CHICKEN?

2009-04-26T08:11:00.008+01:00

Eddie (http://cloudsandsilverylinings.com) perversely awarded me the Zombie Chicken Award with the proviso that I shared it with five friends. The friends that I have invited to the feast are:

Reluctantmemsahib (http://reluctantmemsahib.wordpress.com/)because she did say that if I cooked Sunday Lunch with all the trimmings she would come on over.

David (http://david-mcmahon.blogspot.com/)also said he would come, but didn’t show up either.

So these two guests can have a measly wing each because they let my delicious meal go cold last time around.

The following two guests can have a leg each.

Sarah, (http://sarah-storms.blogspot.com/) because after reading her blog I know that she can work wonders with her delicious cooking.

Anne, (http://sjanne.blogspot.com/) because she is trying to sell her house, is totally stressed out and needs a little TLC.

And the breast must go to Sandi (http://sandimcbride.blogspot.com/) because she has been very poorly and needs the nourishment and TLC. Maybe Mac could make some chicken soup?

Now that we are all stuffed to the gunnels I will bore you with an after dinner speech. This is actually very funny and absolutely true.

One of our sales team called a hotel and the conversation went like this

"Hello, can I speak to Mr Wood please?

"Mr Wood ? "

"Yes, Mr Wood - is he there?"

"Do you know his collar number? "

“Collar number! No I don't (putting on an authorative voice) can you just put me through to him please?"

"Putting you through now"

"Hello, can I help you?

"Yes, is Mr Wood there please?”

"Who wants him?"

"My name is Kim and I’m calling from Infotel - is he there? "

"Sorry, which organisation? "

"Infotel. Is he there? "

"We do have a Mr Wood, but do you realise that you are calling Dorset CID Headquarters? How did you get this secure direct line number? What exactly is the nature of your call?”

"Sorry, I thought that I was calling to place bookings into the Cumberland Hotel in Bournemouth”

"Oh right, well we do have some lovely little basic rooms downstairs, not en-suite you understand, but small and compact with a nice clean thick blanket and a bell to call for service”

It’s great when someone has a sense of humour isn’t it?

And finally …. These two scoundrels are the oldest and youngest boys in my life.

THE WORLD ON THE BRINK

2009-04-10T15:56:00.007+01:00

Yesterday I read in a business magazines that according to US Democratic Representative Kanjorski at 11 am on the 18th September there was a $440 billion electronic drawn-down of money market accounts in the US. The US Treasury had to pump $550 billion into the system, close down the money accounts and announce a guarantee of $250,000 per account to stem the tide. It was estimated that had they not acted swiftly by 2 pm $5.5 trillion would have been drawn out, collapsing the entire economy of the US, followed by the world economy within 24 hours. According to him it would have been the end of the economic and political system as we know it. My guess is that the Lehman Bank collapse on 16th acted as the catalyst. This must have been the financial equivalent of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Whew!!

Now back to “normal” stuff. This week our Investors in People renewal took place. As our reviewer had previously been made aware of my own particular succession planning strategy, i.e. slide off to Switzerland and other foreign parts, basically leaving “the team” to get on with things, she made this one of the focuses points of the visit. She asked everyone how the process was going and the consensus was that things are not better or worse, just different. Job done then!

Thankfully, we passed with flying colours again. She also added that after recently visiting a major supermarket chain to review their Investors in People status, in her opinion our planning, training and delivery procedures and processes are more effective than theirs. In fact she was impressed with the way we value our staff.

And the real “normal, normal” stuff. Our little ones perpetuating the ancient art of climbing trees. Now that's real life. Arn't they delightful?

And finally …. I believe that the happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything.

WE NEED A BIGGER KITCHEN

2009-04-05T09:35:00.004+01:00

"Do you like me?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I spend my life with you and it would be nice to know that I was liked"

I was thinking that maybe I should be paying more attention to this man until a couple of hours later when, dodging around the kitchen trying not to get in each other's way, me cooking sunday roast for the family and him making one cup of coffee for himself, I "politely" point out that perhaps I should take priority in this situation. He growled back:

"Name me one person in the world that would put up with you"

Now in my opinion that was totally uncalled for.

"Name one person in the world that I would WANT to put up with me?"

"You are just trying to wriggle out of the question"

There are some questions that just don't have an answer aren't there?

And finally .... Be careful reading the fine print. There's no way you're going to like it.

OH! HOW WE LAUGHED

2009-04-03T09:36:00.006+01:00

My daughter read the blog yesterday and said with a big cheesy grin "so your life is busy now is it?" "yes, why?" " your hairdresser just 'phoned, you forgot your appointment" "shit!".

That wasn't the end of it. I was entrusted with the awsome responsibility of babysitting my 2 month old greatgrandson and collecting his two sisters from school. Whenever I go to pick the girls up from school they whinge on about going to the park with their school friends and having one of my rare warm fuzzy maternal moments I decided to treat them and gave in to their demand while I sat in the back of the car to feed Noah

It was all very pleasant, I could see the girls playing away happily with their friends while I listened to the satisfying sound of baby guzzling away. All was well with the world.

The girls played for 45 minutes. Noah had satisfied himself, burped for England and was now ready to sleep. Time to go. Ah! The back door childlock was on. I was trapped in the car. "Not to worry" I thought "just put Noah in his car seat and climb into the front, job done!" forgetting that ancient bones just don't comply like they used to. No movement, no compromise and no way could I clamber into the front.

"OK," I thought "DON'T PANIC. Just knock on the window and get the girls attention". Now, our daughter calls this car "the beast" (Barrack Obama copied us!). It is called the beast because it is big with blacked out windows. So - get the picture. There's me trying to attract attention but no-one can see me through these wretched obscured windows! ....and the girls still played happily away!

A bit of head scratching later and I come up with a solution. Reach over and open the electric window. Window doesn't open! Why? More head scratching. Ah! Maybe the engine has to be running. At last, the window glides down to reveal one worried little girl peering through. "Are you alright Nanny" "Oh Elise, am I glad to see you, can you open the door please, the child lock is on". Whew, freedom at last.

Oh how we laughed together to think that Nanny had been trapped in the car for 15 minutes until Elise made the earth shattering discovery that the other back door was not on child lock! I hadn't been trapped after all. The girls thought this was hillarious. Silly Nanny! I joined in the good fun, but secretly I had lost my warm fuzzy maternal sense of humour. I was laughing on the outside but inside I was as pissed as hell with myself.

And finally .... Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

BUSY DOING NOTHING

2009-04-02T09:13:00.005+01:00

Again I ask myself the question, why do I write this guff? I guess the original answer would have been that I was aware all the while I was heavily involved in the day to day running of the business I was impeading the growth and experience of the next generation of leaders. For the sake of continuity and success it was crutial that they took decisions without looking over their shoulder to see if I would veto their ideas. (The "grown ups" call it succession planning). It was a very painful process for all of us because the business is my passion and I didn't quite know what else to do with myself so I kept showing up, misbehaving and interfering.

I tried researching the ancesters and did quite well for a while. In fact I still go back to it from time to time but I have quite a short attention span, it's a very lonely pursuit and I am happiest around people. I tried travelling, which was good, but I wouldn't want to spend my life doing it, I looked for a hobby and couldn't find one and then I decided to write about my struggles with myself. And guess what? Things changed.

At first the people around me were not sure if they approved, but as time went on they became more comfortable with it and, indeed, some became avid readers. So that was good. I could vent my feelings into the ether, it gave me a discipline, it gave me a reason for getting up in the morning and bought with it the added benefit of new friendships.

Then OG got cancer. This was a tricky one. Should I write about it or not? OG asked me to because he didn't want to talk about it himself and it meant that people weren't continually asking him how he was. So this is what I did and continue to do. When I write about him I always seek his approval, even when I snark! We both love the snark bits best!

It has been a strange journey. I believe that my absence from the office bought the desired results. My fellow directors are now stronger and more experienced and I am still around if they need my input, which they occasionaly do (but I suspect more out of respect than need, which is as it should be!).

I have almost come the full circle now. I have gone from having time on my hands to being extremely busy, but busy doing different stuff. I help out with my new baby great grandson and all the other great grandchildren and grandchildren, I sometimes "do lunch", I am chief adviser, designer and occasionally clearer upper for OG's house renovations, and my colleagues have graciously allow me to retain a desk on the mezzanine floor from which I survey my empire. I say, "graciously allow me" - for that read they wouldn't dare stop me! I still have teeth!!

Although I only speak for myself here I should say that OG is making his own journey in this process, part of which is to immerse himself in the renovations and he is, after all, much better at finding way to do nothing than I am!

And finally .. I believe that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A YEAR MAKES

2009-03-23T12:46:00.007Z

This time last year OG was recovering from major surgery to remove and reconstruct his bladder. The good news was that the operation was a success and there was no discernable trace of cancer in his major organs but the bad news was that of 6 lymph nodes analysed, 2 were found to be cancerous. It was an emotional roller coaster.

He then went on a coarse of chemo which made him so ill that Spring and Summer were virtually written off. His weight dropped dramatically and he was very, very poorly. But in the autumn he bounced back again and here he is still fit and well today to tell the tale. Amazing. We do know that he is not entirely out of the woods yet, but each day is a minor miracle to be enjoyed and cherished because this time last year we were in despair.

Yesterday afternoon, Mothering Sunday, we had been invited to spend with the family at our daughter’s house. The little ones had a great time in the swimming pool while the adults indulged their passion for eating and drinking. I have a reputation for never getting drunk, but yesterday that reputation was ruined. BUT I didn’t insult anyone, so I guess that was a bonus.

Before we went to the pool party I read of an interesting concept in education that may be worth watching. In this country there has been a move to upgrade the fabric of the educational establishments but we still have pupils leaving school poorly educated without being able read or write.

In Sweden they have decided that an excellent building is not as important as excellent teaching and they are developing a website portal with all lesson plans covering the national curriculum available for teachers and pupils to download. This means that instead of teachers having to spend many hours constructing their own teaching plans they can now spend the time more profitably in mentoring and coaching pupils.

The average teacher spends 17 hours actually teaching, but using this method this can be increased to 27 hour. They have 50-minute meetings with each pupil to work out the best way to access this buffet of learning to meet individual learning abilities and set goals, with some more suited to study periods and some to more traditional workshop learning. During the week one-to-one meetings take place to assess progress. Pupils also attend university style lectures.

Anything that makes learning interesting has to be worth trying

And finally… a hangover is the wrath of grapes.

THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK

2009-03-13T12:15:00.005Z

Propped up in bed, drinking our first cup of coffee of the day we learned this fascinating fact. First, we were informed, we had blogging, then we had twittering and now we have snarking. Snarking, the reporter explained, is to make derogatory comments about something or someone (normally a celebrity), in a blog.

The news item then went on to tell us that a model is sueing a snarker in New York. On hearing this OG announced to the TV "my wife snarkes me" and to me "can I sue you?" " sure you can darling, just make sure you find another sucker to love, cherish and obey you first"

My first snark today is to ask why on earth the BBC is wasting my hard earned licence fee money reporting this inane piece of s..t and passing it off as news?

Material for my second snark awaited we when I opened my emails. DogLover had sent me this jolly little ditty.

Gordon Brown is my shepherd, I shall not work.
He leadeth me beside the still factories.
He restoreth my faith in the Conservative Party.
He guideth me in the path of unemployment.
Yea, though I wait for my dole,
I own the bank that refuses me.

Brown has anointed my income with taxes,
my expenses runneth over my income,
surely, poverty and hard living will follow me all the days of his term.
From henceforth we will live all the days
of our lives in a rented home with an overseas landlord.

I am glad I am British,
I am glad I am free.
But I wish I were a dog
and Brown was a tree.

Am I now officially a snarker! ?

MONEY? WHERE'S YOUR WHEELBARROW?

2009-03-11T11:09:00.006Z

This was emailed to me by one of my daughters.
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1625&Itemid=74. Thanks Tracie, I know it's a send up, but I couldn't have put it better myself. I have actually been saying to OG that the PC crap is getting to feel like Nazi Germany/communist Russia must have felt. Paranoia fuelled by the fear of family, friends and neighbours reporting "inappropriate" behaviour to the authorities. The Carol Thatcher golliwog incident being a good example. And now I am going to stop ranting. Promise! Well, for today anyway!!

And finally ... I believe that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE

2009-03-08T10:53:00.005Z

In Belfast on 10th August 1976 a terrorist, trying to escape pursuers, lost control of his car and plowed into a woman and three children. All of the children were killed. A woman living nearby heard the impact and when she saw the carnage vowed that this slaughter of innocents had to stop. Enough was enough

She went knocking on doors begging and pleading with people to put an end to this violence once and for all. Her appeal found a ready response. More and more people rallied to her call. One of the first to do so was an aunt of the three children.

These two women went on to form the Northern Ireland Peace Movement and in 1976 they received a Nobel Peace Prize. http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1976/press.html

Their names are Betty Williams and Mairead Corrigan but unfotunately in the ensuing years they were discredited http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/northern_ireland/4781091.stm .

I mention all this for three reasons.

1. Here we are, 32 years later, still listening to news of two soldiers killed and four injured in a cowardly attack in Northern Ireland last night.

2. A new political party has been formed http://www.newparty.co.uk/policy/ for the express porpose of shining a light into the murky world of British politics. How long will it be before the founders of this party are also discredited and personally vilified? This is a British sickness that has to stop.

3. Watching Peter Mandelson on the Andrew Marr show this morning smuggly reassuring us all that the British Government will resolve the global crisis and ensure that the international banking system is made more transparent makes me dispair.

Whenever will we learn. http://www.arlo.net/resources/lyrics/flowers-gone.shtml

THEY CALL ME MELLOW YELLOW

2009-03-04T10:06:00.006Z

There are some very interesting people out there in the blog-sphere and I would like to pass this Smile Award, kindly given to me by http://sarah-storms.blogspot.com/, on to some of them.

So ….here are a sample of the many, many blogs that make me smile, and sometimes even cry. Enjoy.

http://houseoflime.blogspot.com/
http://welshcartoons.blogspot.com/
http://eddybluelights.blogspot.com/
http://lifewiththreedogs.blogspot.com/
http://mothersplaceisinthewrong.blogspot.com/
http://sandimcbride.blogspot.com/

As for me, I am having and “interesting” day with my “interesting” husband.

Today he is clearing our sitting room of “stuff” so that he can rip it to pieces. Here are a couple of “before” pictures. He is moving the fireplace to where the French doors are, putting in a new window where the fireplace is, fit patio doors where the window is, take down two columns that used to support the stairs and take down the beams. Whew! No wonder he gets grumpy! OG = Old Grumpy – geddit?

OG just tried to apologise for being snappy earlier and I said “Don’t mellow me out, I’m just telling everyone what a bastard you are”.

And finally … my husband and I may divorce over religious differences. He thinks he’s God and I know that he isn’t.

IT'LL BE ALL WHITE ON THE NIGHT

2009-02-24T08:49:00.010Z

“What are you thinking?”

“I feel a blog coming on”

“Oh very good, while you are writing it why don’t you wear my cowboy hat?”.

Now that, as they say, is another story!

OG is progressing with the renovation work.

The laundry room is now complete and the mezzanine sitting room is waiting for a new carpet to be fitted. Yes, that IS an enormous TV and I must admit that it is my fault. I am normally the sensible one of this outfit, but when we went shopping I couldn’t resist this bargain. It will eventually live in our newly renovated sitting room (renovations to start imminently) where it will reign supreme. Meanwhile it can content itself by dominating this smaller space.

OG has now moved on to demolishing a chimney. That night he complained of feeling tired!

A few nights ago he asked

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you!"

"Why?".

Now that was a tough one and anyone that knows OG will understand why. He is such an unusual man. Maybe that's what I should say "Because you're an unusual man". Would that satiisfy him I wonder? Probably not. Mmmm - this is more difficult that it seems!

To give a graphic explanation of what I mean one of our ex-employees who became a great friend put on face book that the wisest man he knows is an alcoholic, dyslexic, builder. This, my friends, is OG. Unusual. Although to be honest Ashley's discription of him is slightly wrong. He is a recovering alcolohic. Hasn't touched a drop for over 35 years.

And finally ..... a good time to keep your mouth shut is before you put your foot in it!

MY BRAIN HURTS

2009-02-12T11:39:00.004Z

Today, like most of us, my mind is occupied with thoughts of treacherous bankers and politicians.

Over the past five years the FSA repeatedly warned that the economy was dangerously overheating. As we now know Sir James Crosby head of HBOS was made aware of the dangers to his own bank by both the FSA and Paul Moore, the HBOS Head of Group Regulatory Risk. Did he take heed of the warnings? No, he sacked Paul Moore!

Prime Minister Gordon Brown said the Treasury was not made aware of the FSA's communications with HBOS. "There were probably 20 or 30 similar discussions going on with other institutions at the time," he said. Well that's alright then, so is this him admitting that he knew 20 or 30 other institutions had been warned too!!!

These unheeded warnings came to fruition, HBOS was one of the banks that had to be massively bailed out and Sir James Crosby resigned. We all said a collective “good riddance”. But hang on a minute – why did Gordon Brown then appoint him deputy chairman of City watchdog, the Financial Services Authority? Is there something I’m missing here?

And how can Gordon Brown possibly claim that this recession could not have been predicted? As I have said many times before, I’m just a simple woman trying to live my life honestly. I love my family, respect my colleagues and am very loyal to my Country. Even I predicted that this would happened.

As we speak the banks are still up to the same old tricks. The big banks are currently offering a raft of “Guaranteed” bonds. High interest, no income, no transparency and gobbledy-gook small print. Despite being advertised as “Guaranteed” the only guarantees they offer are minimum risk with maximum earnings to the bank and maximum risk with minimum earnings to the punter.

And while I’m ranting. How is this going to work?

Take a Country, any Country, with good citizens willing to place their lives and trust in the stewardship of their leaders. Watch these “leaders” rip the heart out of its economy until most businesses either have to implement severe cutbacks or go bust and unemployment spirals out of control putting the good people in fear of their very existence.

At the same time pile Pollyanna tax money into the already overpaid and overstaffed NHS, build new schools for illiterate, innumerate children to be taught by untalented, uninspired teachers, increase the already sickeningly high numbers of disheartened, demoralised and totally unhelpful public sector workers, council workers, Whitehall mandarins, dream up new harebrained Government backed schemes, government reviews, public awareness PC infomercials etc.

This silly old woman thinks “ummm? tax payers are getting a bit thin on the ground here, how are these mad schemes and top heavy public service sector jobs going to be funded?” As I say, maybe I’m missing something here.

And finally …. I smile because I don't know what the hell is going on.

OF ALL THE BARS IN ALL THE WORLD

2009-02-06T08:21:00.003Z

One of my colleagues at the office collared me a couple of days ago.

"I was talking to my ex's nephew on facebook last night" (There goes that old facebook thing again!) "he's working in the French Alps and I asked him if he knew Vinnie. He said "Vinnie the chef? Yes I know Vinnie, he lives near me"".

"It can't be the same Vinnie surely. What's his name"

"Sam"

"OK, I'll ask Vinnie next time I speak to him".

As I was leaving the office I asked SallyAnn to write his name down for me (old memory isn't what is was you know). As she was writing it down my mobile rang. It was Vinnie! Scary!!

"Hi, Vin, we were just talking about you. Do you know Sam?"

"Yes, that's why I'm ringing. He's standing right beside me. He is a chef at the bar I drink in."

How's that for a co-incidence?

Isn't this image perfect? Noah is now 2 weeks old whereas Sporty Dad is 1308 weeks old. Question. Which one is the baby? Noah is a wonderfully behaved, in fact he sleeps so much that I have trouble visiting when he is awake! On the other hand Sporty Dad is not so well behaved and is always awake when I visit. Only kidding Sporty Dad, you are perfect too.

GIGGLE, GIGGLE ALL THE WAY

2009-01-25T09:25:00.002Z

There were two things at the top of my giggle-o-meter this week.

First giggle. My esteemed colleague had devised a sales promotion to “encourage” the telesales team to get their fingers out (as it where).

Each sale entitled the seller to select a sealed envelope inside of which was either a £10 voucher or an inspirational word.

“I would prefer to win an inspirational word. Why don’t you just tell us what they are now?”

“Then you wouldn’t have a reason for wanting to win”

“Oh that’s mean”

“OK then, I’ll give you one inspirational word – P45!” Brilliant, or what?

Second giggle. Watching Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire with OG last night I said

“She reminds me of Jean”

“Anneka Rice?"

“No, Penny Smith!”

“She’s nothing like Jean, Anika Rice is animated”

“So is Penny Smith”

“But nothing like Anika Rice”

At this stage I decided to drop out of this silly conversation. After a while OG pipes up “Don’t go in a mood just because you’re wrong”

“Wrong, wrong, how can you say I’m wrong? MY conversation, she reminds ME of Jean, how can that be wrong?”

Now we are both in a mood.

Immediately after this exchange of unfriendly fire I had a conversation with my grandson Morgan (the City economist). He relayed a conversation he had had with Vinnie recently when they both agreed that their granddad was one of the wisest men they knew. He said he always seemed to know the right things to say and the right advice to give. Are we talking about the same man here?

And finally …. I believe that just because two people argue it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue it doesn't mean they do love each other.