Day Two

Day one

Here we are, day one of the new Tory/tory coalition and already the unemployment figures are rising. It is amazing what can be accomplished with almost no effort at all. It was sad seeing Gordon Brown leave office yesterday but he did so with dignity and I have no doubt that before long, many people will be wishing that he was back.

Change has a way of percolating slowly through the food chain, the pain usually being felt from the bottom upwards and getting diluted as it goes up, while the benefits work the other way around. I recall a tale, perhaps apocryphal, about a tribe of South American Indians who held a particular mushroom species sacred. The reason for this was that it, when eaten produced a wonderful high and the high ranking priests were the only ones allowed to go tripping. However, many pharmaceuticals pass through the body unaltered and the high priests, no pun intended, would urinate into jars that were passed on to the lower echelons in the priesthood who would then drink the pee and experience a trip all of their own. They in turn would pee into jars that would be passed down and so on, until the lowest of the low would get to drink the pee and receieve no benefit. This is the future folks and I hope that you are higher up the ladder than I am.

Apparently Oscar was awoken this morning by his bowel movement. These eruptions can be startling and messy too, and we all hope that this sort of event is not something that we can look forward to.
It seems fitting that this should happen on election day. The polls have been open since seven and no doubt there has been a steady trickle of disenchanted folk just itching to scratch their cross on the ballot paper, before carrying on with their day, which they know will probably not change very much regardless of the outcome. I would imagine that those who have been campaigning all these weeks are having a lie in, in preparation for being up all night to find out what sort of conservative government we will have for the next five years. Whatever happens the damage will soon be done and we as a country will blunder on towards the next crisis and there will be someone else to blame; there always is.
What happened to society? What happened to personal responsibility? What happened to truth? Today there is no such thing as an accident. Someone is always to blame we are always looking for scapegoats and looking for someone other than ourselves to take the blame for whatever goes wrong in our lives. The no win no fee legal system is partly to blame of course but that in itself has grown in a place where there was room for it to grow, and no-one bothered to pull out the weed until it had seeded and spread.
Whatever the outcome tomorrow, there will be no change, at least no change that is discernable to most of us. Yes times will get tougher, money will be worth less and all of us will have to make sacrifices but the filthy rich will still get richer while the majority pay for the mistakes of the few. Oscar will still grow up in a better world than those who grew up in the thirties and forties, but in many ways he will be less well off. I hope that he learns that there is more to life than material gain, that people matter more than property, and that you do not have to follow the doctrines of others in order to live a fulfilling life.

Gardens

I am not a gardener but I potter about trying to get things to grow and usually failing miserably. When you have a garden ther seems and unwritten obligation to keep it looking like something, but unless you have the will and the ability, it is hard to keep it up. I like a nice lawn, and I work quite hard on keeping my little patch of grass healthy. I feed it and cut it regularly, trim the edges and reseed or returf the bald spots each year. It gets more attention than many ladies nether regions and yet it manages to look good for few weeks of the year only. As soon as it starts to get warm, it starts to let me down and by the end of the summer it looks like one of the less fertile areas of the Gobi desert.
This year I decided to get on top of the vegetable patches too and assiduously dug, raked and weeded them so that they would be ready to accept the seedling that I had started off in the greenhouse. Then we had to go away for a ten day period and of course it chose to be warm and sunny and when I got back, all my seedlings had died. I now have a choice - to say sod it and forget the garden this year, or to buy lots of plants from a garden centre and let them die when we go away on holiday again. The former option seems more attractive but then the whole place will become overgrown and shabby and I'll have to spend hours getting it back to a reasonably tidy shape. It all seems pretty futile and I can understand why many people cover their gardens with paving or gravel. Even that though is a lot of work and expense, and it looks pretty awful too.
I suspect that the size of the garden, along with a body that is failing will be the trigger that initiates a move, and probably away from the island that has been home since 1971. The mainland, or at least one of its inhabitants beckons and it cannot be long before the siren call has to be answered.

Change?

OScar has been here for a week and I am amazed at how much time and space he can occupy.

The media are flooded with the forthcoming election, and it is beginning to look as if the country will get the government that it deserves. This is unfortunate as the nation as a whole has yet to recover from the greediness and grasping philosophies of the last Tory government, and few can remember what they are really like.

The tory mantra this time seems to be the word "Change", and this taps into the nature of a society with a short attention span. Management and middle management seems to flourish on change for the sake of it, and everyone taking on a position feels the necessity to bring about changes regardless of need and regardless of what has gone before. Workforces get tired of seeing the same cycles repeating themselves and so become cynical; but it is the way of the world.

A worrying statistic is that almost 50% of the population are below average intelligence and it is this group that are most likely to be persuaded to vote in the direction that the tabloids lead them. Unfortunately most people cannot remember what a tory government is like and that is a great pity as we are likely to find out once again to the cost of most of us and the benefit of the few.

Fortuanately Oscar is oblivious to all of this and as yet unable to stand on his own feet. With his mother to cater for all his needs that is fine for now, but in the future he will need to change that. Woe betide anyone who cannot.

Mistakes

We all make mistakes, and some learn from them. Clearly women all over the world have been making a huge one in dressing immodestly, and therefore, causing earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. According to learned Islamic clerics they should desist immediately so that the Earth can settle down. These people expect to be taken seriously?

Yesterday I lost concentration for a while and made a mistake that caused me a great deal of regret for a couple of hours. I have no excuse, I should have seen it coming but I didn't think about it at all until the damage was done, however I am pretty sure that I won't do it again.

I had spent some time in the garden and realised that in my recent prolonged absence, I had lost most of my seedlings. Now i don't grow much but I do like Chilli peppers and so decided to deseed a fresh one and try once again. I am a hands on type of person and so I split the tiny red chilli by hand and separated out the seeds to dry them. Then the phone rand and I dashed off to answer it. That was the distractor, and once I'd done there I went to the loo. That was the error. I had no sooner finished and washed my hands when i realised that I had done those things in the wrong order. Part of me began to burn-intensely and all I could do was thrust it under the cold tap. It didn't help, the stuff must have been absorbed into the skin and the pain was horrible, all i could do was squirm and curse my stupidity. I dashed around the house hoping that a frenzy of activity might distract me. Believe me when that part of you is on fire there is nothing that can distract from it, and so I suffered in a silent scream for the rest of the afternoon.

So lesson learned and contrary to common wisdom, it is best to wash your hands BEFORE going for a pee.

Another phase

It is tempting to make this an Oscar appreciation page, but I know how boring other people's children can be and so will resist. These have been a strange few weeks however and getting back to normality will take a while, especially as we are now in the silly season of a general election.

It would seem that this will be no ordinary election as the populace seems to hold most politicians with little respect and some with a real hatred. Nothing is cut and dried and at the moment it looks as if there are three horses in the race rather than just the usual two old nags. The rise of the Lib Dems may seem refreshing to some, but the real danger is that apathy will win the day and a very low turnout at the polling booths could be a disaster. Support for the far right is on the increase and it is likely that these pernicious little bands will rally a great deal of support. We shall see in due course, I just hope that we don't end up with the government that we deserve.

Seasons

Having spent a few days meeting and getting to know Oscar has been wonderful. I have never really been one for other people's babies but I must say that seeing him was something very special.
Returning home was difficult but necessary, and his arrival has been made more poignant by the news of my Mother's death. She died last night, taken finally by pneumonia after a long struggle with emphysema, the price of a lifetime of smoking. I don't feel sadness, just a sense of relief as her suffering has been long and terrible. If there is a sadness, then it is that she didn't get to meet Oscar, though she did live long enough to be aware of his birth, and to know that she has become a great grandmother even if she could never enjoy that. I guess that now I am an orphan - Goodbye Mum - be at peace.

Welcome George

Last evening, just as I got to the pub to start the quiz, the news of George's birth arrived. He weighed in at 9lb 1oz and mother and child are doing well. He has been called Oscar Bailey Lander and this is quite spooky. As you might have already read, I used the name George as a matter of convenience, and unbeknown to me, that was also what my daughter had taken to calling him. What is more, the name Bailey was taken from her favourite movie, It's a Wonderful Life, the central character being George Bailey. How weird is that? I may have to think a little on this before writing more. Welcome to the world Oscar Bailey, may it be a better place having you in it!

Come on George

George seems to be either too lazy, too comfortable or too lost to find the way out. Maybe today will be the day, I do hope so for his mother's sake.
Uncertainty is a bit of a mixed blessing. It can be nice to be surprised, but it is a great convenience to know in advance when an event is likely to take place. Apart from anything else it makes planning a lot easier. I know, I don't have much to think about, let alone plan, and what I do on a day to day basis has little impact upon anyone else and even less on the world in general, but even I have commitments of sorts. I am having to prepare my monday night pub quiz well in advance and having to leave it with the barman in case I cannot be there. He doesn't like doing it one little bit but then he shouldn't worry as if I am not there, a whole team will be missing and that means it probably won't run anyhow and would it really matter? However I see it as something that I have to do, at least for the forseeable future.
Anyway George, I do hope that you make an appearance soon so that some semblance of normality, albeit a new type, can return to family life.


Oh ps - I don't suppose it will make any difference but whoever is posting their ads here, please don't!

Still waiting

Well George resolutely remains in a cosy and warm place, and who can blame him/her? Reality will arrive soon enough and the process of living and carving a niche in the world will begin. Perhaps George has been sensibly waiting for the weather to improve and today the sun is shining again and no doubt the temperatures are beginning to climb towards a seasonably acceptable level.
It isn't just George that is late, everything seems to be on hold at the moment. Spring flowers are late, the frog mating fest was late and the usual upsurge in insect life has been delayed. It is as if the natural world is holding its breath and waiting for the instruction to start. We have got used to a succession of mild winters and early springs I guess and also lost the ability to wait. Today's world is about immediacy; everything has to be here and now and the quality of patience is fading from our lives. No-one seems prepared to wait anymore, and that is a shame as quite often the wait and the anticipation is more rewarding than the actuality.
I believe that I am a very patient person. I learned patience in my childhood, there was little choice, and also through a career in the classroom, though I have to admit that it was stretched a little there from time to time. To teach patience to children is difficult, especially today, but I believe that to do so is to give them a gift that they will one day appreciate.

Waiting

I am awaiting the arrival of my first grandchild. He/she was due on saturday, but as is common with these things, the due date and the day of arrival did not co-incide. It is a strange feeling waiting for the appearance of a stranger that is likely to bring about changes in ones life and I find myself thinking about his/her future and what it might have in store.
So many children come into the world each day and the path that lies before each and every one of them is a lottery. Many are born into terrible situations, even in so called civilised countries like those in the west, while others have every advantage known to man. I suspect that George, I'll call it George for now as that is a pretty unisex name, will have a great start in life, with a beautiful home, loving parents and hopefully, the support of the rest of the family.
Even so George faces a hazardous and unpredictable future in which a tiny decision can make so much difference to the rest of the life that they face. Many hazards are beyond anyone's control and the future of human life as always remains in the balance. It seems that humanity must make some choices soon in order that we as a species can continue to evolve and make all of our lives better. George will be born in a world that lies on the brink of major changes and I can only hope that those changes will be positive and that one day George can make a contribution to it.
I am unlikely to see George grow up and can probably make very little difference to his/her life. I will plant a tree for George on the day of the birth and maybe one day George will look at the tree and see it as my substitute for a prayer on his/her behalf.

I'll drink to that

British pubs are closing at the rate of nearly 40 a week, or was that a day? It is no surprise though as landlords (and ladies) are being squeezed buy heavy taxation from the government, hyped costs from the big businesses who own the breweries and suppliers, massive rates applied by local authorities and on top of all this the recession that is crippling all but the bankers who caused it.
The pub is a part of the social network. A place to meet people from the locality, to talk , to argue and to find out what is going on in the world. For some people it is a lifeline, and it may be the only place they can go to find company without the need for an invisible friend.
I run a pub quiz. This was instigated on a monday night in an attempt to draw in punters on the quietest night of the week, and sometimes it works. Last night there were just the two teams however, a total of 12 people, all of whom of course bought drinks at the bar. Had we not been there there were 6 others in the pub and by the end of the evening that was down to two. The landlady is of course worried for the future.
I maintain that village pubs in particular are worth saving and it is time that the community realised how important these little gems can be. It seems that churches can generate huge amount to rescue their crumbling fabrics and are often the recipients of lottery grants to keep these edifices growing and yet the numbers of sheep that heed their shepherd on a regular basis is waning.
I will assert that many pub communities actually do more good in the community than some of the churches, and should therefore be elevated to a higher status, or at least given the same tax consideration that the churches get.
We need the pubs. They add colour and variety to our towns and villages and the big advantage they have over the church is that pubs do not have pulpits.

just a thought

On the fringe

Schools are being told that it may be illegal to enforce the wearing of skirts by girls on the grounds that it may discriminate against transexuals. Do the people that make these decisions believe that transexuals are not going to be discriminated against for other reasons? We are all subject to discrimination and have to learn to live with it. People are people and all have their prejudices. I confess to being prejudiced against those with extreme right wing views and those at the other end of the spectrum. I am prejudiced against those who worship stupidity and see it as a badge of honour, and those who put religions in front of their regard for fellow human beings.
I am discriminated against all of the time, on the basis of my age, my gender and probably the way that I dress and the opinions that I hold. It is all part of living in a society, or in my case on the fringe of society.
I was wondering how far t his PC madness can go, perhaps the following could become illegal in the future

Taking driving licences away from blind people or alcoholics.
Locking prisoners in their cells without a bedtime story.
Giving kids homework
Not giving unemployment benefit to those in work.
Speeding fines
Maths tests
The list is endless - unless we wake up and realise that all of this is just a terrible dream!

Contrasts

This weekend, for reasons that I will not go into, I saw The Brits Awards and also the BAFTAs. I am not a fan of either show, though I do believe in praising achievement, as long as that achievement has been the result of effort rather than circumstance.
We seem to have evolved a culture where the concept of praising achievement has been taken to silly extremes. I some schools children may be rewarded for just turning up, and others for managing to behave in a civilised way. Others who do this as a matter of course, receive nothing other than confusing messages.

Anyhow, the two "ceremonies" were fascinating in the sheer contrast that they demonstrated. On one hand we had a slick, well presented and civilised display of talent, with intelligent people being given well deserved accolades for, in some cases, years of work, honing their craft to the highest of levels. And then there were the Brit awards.

Ok I know that I am a grumpy old git, as my son likes to remind me, but there was a time when Britain produced a plethora of talented young people who could outshine the rest of the world when it came to pop music. There was little of that talent on display this year. The most memorable talent was an American and the rest, bland, ordinary and unoriginal.

All that we can seem to offer is surface. We have pretty boy bands who sing reasonably but are utterly dull unless you happen to be a twelve year old girl, sexy girl bands who appeal to most men until they start to sing, and the rest seems to be Hiphop, a brand of sound that seems to me incomprehensible and of no worth whatever. Britpop is in a sorry state, and like all aspects of modern culture becoming dominated by women. It is a shame as there are many talented bands out there, producing new and original stuff, but alas they do not fit the moulds that the likes of Simon Cowell produce. The only saving grace is that the average act these days has the life expectancy of a mayfly.

An unpleasant experience

I have an old lady friend who I visit from time to time. We drink tea and laugh a lot, she talks about her childhood and some of her happier times, and if necessary I do odd jobs for her. Like many older people she gets into a state of panic very easily and I have told her over and over again to call if she needs help. She is reluctant to do so and so yesterday afternoon as I was settling down to a post lunch doze, she called, and I knew that she was panicking.
When I got there, she was indeed at her wits end. Something had got into her fireplace and was making a great deal of noise. Now this is an old large Edwardian fireplace that has been fitted with a gas fire of considerable vintage. It is sealed in with a sheet metal screen that is screwed into the fabric of the fireplace and the fire itself sealed in with gaffer tape. The whole thing was moving and it sounded as if some large beast was fighting to get out. The sheet metal bulged outwards and bits and pieces were clearly cascading down the chimney.
I ushered Liz very slowly out of the room, not wanting her to be there when whatever it was was released, made her a cup of tea and proceeded to dismantle the arrangement that had lain their untouched for decades. Of course the screws were corroded in and could not be budged and so I eased the fire away from the chimney, disengaging it from its flue and from the heavy duty tape that held it in place. While this was going on the occupant of the dark space behind had fallen silent. Beneath the fire was a hole that led into the cellars below. What on Earth could have come up? However that thought was dispelled when I realised that there was no connection between that hole and whatever lay beyond. Unable to free the sheet metal barrier I could only thrust my hand through the flue to investigate what had been making the noise and that hole wasn't very big. Tentatively I groped around in the dark, half expecting to be bitten or dragged screaming into oblivion - I watch too many bad movies! Nothing! Whatever it was had moved out of reach.
I found a walking stick near to the front door and returned - thrust said stick up aforementioned chimney and waggled it around. Mayhem in the chimney resumed as the trapped beast sprang back into action and I caught my first glimpse. A large and very scared Wood Pigeon was struggling to get back up the sooty passage that it had come in by and was hopelessly failing. Almost as scared as it was, I resumed my attempts at grabbing it, grasping it's tail firmly I endeavoured to release it from its prison. I succeeded with the tail but alas it had become detached from the poor bird in the struggle and i was left with a large handful of warm feathers. There was now less of the bird to struggle and the poor thing flapped and floundered while i tried to grab it by something else. I found a wing and eased it from the hole, most of the wing feathers came out in my hand an the now dismembered bird escaped into the room in a cloud of feathers. On all fours I chase it around the room, under chairs and around furniture, under curtains and over sofas until the petrified beast ran out of will to live and I grasped it with both hands. I could feel its heart pounding in my grip and see the fear its eyes. I couldn't bring myself to wring its neck and so released it outside the back door. To my amazement it flew away. I still don't know how it managed that with no tail and one and a half wings. No aircraft could have achieved that I am sure.
I returned to the room of carnage, picked up the feathers and reassembled the fire, feeling quite shaken by the plucking of a live bird and feeling very bad about the pain that I must have inflicted.
The consolation of course was that Liz was back in posession of her peace of mind and that should the pigeon meet a swift end in the jaws of a fox, it will be preferable to a long death in a fireplace.

Pie in the sky

I am well aware that what I think may well be completely wrong, and that others hold completely opposite viewpoints that probably have the same validity or otherwise. It would be a duller world if we all thought the same.
We are running towards a general election and the two contending parties are squaring up to each other and beginning to show traces of their true colours, though I don't suppose what they say between now and whenever the election happens, will make much difference to the outcome.
We as a nation are in a financial mess, and have been put there by mistakes made by a greed that is inherent within our society. Everyone seems to want something for nothing, and the banking world took things into their own hands, attempted to make a few too many fast bucks and now we all have to pay for what they have done. The bankers however continue to recieve their huge bonuses, and will receive unending support from the conservatives on both sides of the house. Budgets are being designed and ways of clawing back the bankers losses from the rest of us are being proposed on one hand and rejected by the other. The current government want to increase taxes, especially on the wealthy, while their opponents prefer to rob the poor and keep them in their places, forcing the elderly to sell their homes in order to fund their care in later life. This will of course remove the last incentive to invest one's earnings in property as those without houses to sell will be looked after anyhow, and those recipients of big bonuses will have cash to spare.
Voting at the next election will make little difference to most of us however. Only the wealthy can gain from a new Tory government and almost no-one can gain from maintaining the status quo. Surely we should consider the end of party politics, and strive to elect a government that represents the interests of us all.

Coming and going

People come into and leave our lives all of the time. I have been lucky enough to have met a large number of wonderful people, most of whom have sat before me in classrooms. Of course not all of them were in any way close and our relationship was both fleeting and professional, but nevertheless our lives did brush for an instant in time and we may have learned a little from each other.
As we grow from infant to child and from child to adult it is probable that more come into our lives than leave; I can still remember becoming aware of the finite nature of existence when just a boy, and being told of the demise of an elderly neighbour who i was quite fond of. The memory is crystal clear and the profound nature of that realisation represented a real turning point in my consciousness. He had gone. Forever. The end. Even then I had no belief in afterlives; those concepts are there to comfort those who fear death and cannot handle not being here. A hundred years ago, none of us were here. We did not exist by any definition of the word and in another hundred years we will be in the same state and the world will have moved on.
I am at the stage when few people come into my life, and those that do are often not welcome. Many people that I have cared about have gone; some have died and others simply gone along different pathways. Just a select few remain and those I value beyond material things.
I am not easy company, and do not make friends at all well anymore. I share my mind with very few and my feelings with less, and guess that makes me at best self centred. I rue some of my past and some of the friends that I have lost and have learned much about trust, and feel that on days like today, that I have changed little over the years. I am self contained to a great extent and realise that I will probably never feel fulfilled, but that is true of most people so there is no cause for complaint.
In just over a month my daughter is expecting her first child and I am looking forward to meeting someone new. I hope that this new life will be one filled with good things, but mainly that he or she will, when she gets to my age feel a sense of accomplishment and that their life has been well lived. Good luck little one, you will need it.

a short rant

So our first Asian Judge has proclaimed that Sikh children should be allowed to wear their ceremonial daggers to school. The claim that no Sikh child has been involved in knife crime strikes me as being rather irrelevant, and surely it is time that such ludicrous claims should be dealt with unsympathetically. It seems that as long as you can tie in a behaviour or a habit to a religion then every one else is scared witless to challenge it. Sikhs have no more right to carry knives in public than anyone else and they should be stopped from doing so, because it is the law of the land. We are not a Sikh society; sick perhaps, but thankfully we are not yet ruled by any religious sect.
In the same day's news we hear of a sixteen year old girl, buried alive by her father for talking to boys. Where were her rights? Once again we see that religion is not about peace and goodwill to one's fellow man; it is about bowing to the will of an idea or to another human being who expounds upon that idea. When oh when will people wake up to the true source of evil in this world?