... I worry about Baby Troll sometimes...
Yesterday, immediately after we'd dropped Troll off at the bus station as he was returning to the Algerian Autistic Man Camp (aka his workplace), a very chi-chi blonde, resplendent in Big Shades, and driving a little, trendy, sports car pulled out in front of us.
"I LOVE HER" screeched Baby Troll, his eyes out on stalks
"Don't be ridiculous, Baby - you don't even know her. She could be a horrid old moo"
"No, she looks lovely. She looks NICE. I bet she'd look after me. I LOVE HER"
Bear in mind here Baby Troll is not quite eight years old. Which beggars the question what on EARTH is he going to be like when he's 14? Or 18, for that matter?
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
And another one...
People who know me well will be surprised that to date there has been no mention of the whole 'Baby P' issue on these pages.
Well that's going to change now, but before I commence my rant, I'd just like to point out that things about me aren't always as transparent as they might appear. It's true that part of the reason I haven't commented on the case was because most of it was kicking off during the few months I didn't blog at the start of this year and thus my rants, such as they were, were verbal, and directed at those around me on a daily basis, rather than blogged. However, it would be more relevant to say that I didn't comment publically largely because I find the whole thing just too upsetting to think about very much. Coming from a very large, very Welsh, family (the Welsh attitude to children and family is pretty close to veneration for the uninitiated) mentally I shy away from considering the sickness of mind which would inflict the sort of pain on a child which Baby P endured. I am not exaggerating when I say to think about the issue very much would lead to quite unpleasant nightmares on my part, and I'm enough of a coward to attempt to avoid that if I can.
However, today on reading the BBC news website (surprise surprise), I discover that attention has now turned to the NHS professionals who had dealings with the child; they have received criticism for failing to pick up on Peter's injuries earlier. The BBC helpfully listed the occasions on which the child had contact with the NHS:
- Six recorded visits to hospital, two of which were to an A&E unit
- A GP saw Peter 14 times, the last of which was a week before his death.
- One visit to a specialist health service.
- Five visits made to Peter at home by health visitors
- Two recorded visits to walk-in centres
- Other contacts include mental health workers and parenting counselling service
On the face of it, it's pretty shocking, isn't it? The GP and another paediatrician have now apparently been suspended on the strength of this case (see below for my reaction to that). However, just think about it for a minute... here we have SIX different areas of expertise between which the unfortunate child was shuffled. The report itself admits there wasn't a coherent level of communication between any of them so reading between the lines, it seems each was effectively working in a vacuum, not knowing whether anybody else had noticed anything strange about Peter's injuries. And I think this is the crucial point...
These days nobody has the guts to stand up publically and say there are some parents out there who are just not fit to be parents. No, in these PC times, we have to consider those parents' 'human rights' etc etc and as a result, rather than looking the problem in the face and seeing it for what it is, we have shied away from it and created a whole raft of different 'organisations' and experts to whom to pass the buck. A&E departments, unless in cases where it is utterly impossible to ignore the nature of injuries, are far more likely to let the patients go once they've been treated and make a discreet phone call to social services/the patient's GP than they are to call anybody WHILST THE PATIENT IS IN THE HOSPITAL because they are just SCARED. Scared of the physical violence which could so be easily directed towards them once the suspected perpetrators realise what has happened. Scared they'll be seen as 'interfering', 'judgemental' or 'prejudiced' and denounced as such by the lentil-knitting PC crew who have infiltrated virtually every public institution. Scared of the potential legal action which could be directed against them and their hospital/health authority by the suspected perpetrators who, by and large, are pretty savvy as regards sniffing out the possibility of compensation and aware they have been handed the upper hand in such situations by the aforementioned lentil-knitting mob. It takes a very brave health professional these days to put their neck on the block and actually kick off about injuries they see which they find suspicious. Coupled with the fact most NHS emergency services are run off their feet most of their working day, I'm not at all surprised they didn't appear to have said very much on the occasions Peter was under their care.
After an (unsurprisingly) pretty firm, complaint from me following a particularly blatant piece of stupidity on the part of our local health visitor (a Barbie-like creature not even I can find the words to express my contempt for) I was thankfully spared much contact with health visitor services after Mini got to the toddling stage. You can imagine my thoughts on their general efficiency however... I have no doubt that some of them are genuinely excellent at their job and do no end of good. However, I am also equally sure that the vast majority are absolutely useless when it comes to doing anything more than uttering vapid statements along the lines of 'there, there, have some antidepressants and join a playgroup'. It's rather sad we have to have them at all, and I can't help but think all the authorities actually envisaged them doing when they were created was filling the vacuum left when modern society lost contact with the notion of 'extended family'. All in all, therefore, I am completely unsurprised nothing resulted from Baby P having contact with health visitors...
Looking at the rest of the list of organisations with whom Baby P had contact, brings forth many of the same thoughts. We just can't expect health professionals to voluntarily kick off about potentially abused individuals when we have simultaneously allowed a culture to develop where they are likely to cop a lot of politically-correct flak for doing so. There are, however, two exceptions to this; firstly I note mental health services were involved. Did it not occur to anybody that if the parents are perceived as needing this sort of treatment it might be a good idea to play safe vis a vis the children concerned? Oh, silly me, of course not - to do so would infringe the human rights of the mentally disturbed. Secondly, I cannot excuse the GP (whom I note has been suspended); he had more contact with the family than anybody else, he was the best placed to form an adequate assessment of the danger posed by the parents to the children, and he was the first to see many of the child's injuries. I haven't actually read any comments stemming directly from this person, but if, as I suspect, he felt hamstrung by the considerations I have outlined above, I don't think in this case he deserves any sympathy. 14 visits to him and six to A&E are way, way too many to ignore unless the child had a chronic health problem and I haven't seen anybody saying that this was thought to be the case. He should be ashamed of himself and should lose his job.
None of this is going to bring Peter back, poor little soul. Nor in my wildest dreams do I imagine it's going to mean we are going to get an injection of common sense into the set up and a move towards telling the PC-mob where they can stuff their rights. If you talk privately to most health professionals, the police, or even social services, most of them will admit THEY think there are some people out there who just aren't fit to be parents, to use the phrase I employed earlier. But they can't actually DO anyting about it because they'll be hung out to dry for letting their middle class prejudices affect their work. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH MIDDLE-CLASS PREJUDICE? I am not suggesting for one minute there aren't abusive middle-class parents but statistically they are much smaller in number than those in 'problem families'. Middle class kids might be subjected to mental pressure as regards to doing their homework or get rickets from a too vigorous adoption of whatever trendy diet is in vogue at the time, but by and large they do not visit the doctor's surgery 14 times with injuries including a broken back. Why CAN'T children who are living in appalling conditions (and who the professionals know are statistically unlikely to lead productive, fulfilled later lives because of this poor start) be taken out of these conditions and placed with middle-class adoptive parents? (Goodness knows there are enough childless couples, or ones who just want more children around to love). Yes, there undoubtedly would be cases, where for whatever reason, the authorities got it wrong and children would be moved unjustly, but I would argue these are likely to be far smaller in number, assuming we had people with some common sense at the helm of the relevant authorities, than we that of children currently suffering.
In considering the rights of the abusive parents who gave birth to these unfortunate kids, we are forgetting the rights of those children themselves. And surely it is the children who are the most important thing - or am I missing something here?
Well that's going to change now, but before I commence my rant, I'd just like to point out that things about me aren't always as transparent as they might appear. It's true that part of the reason I haven't commented on the case was because most of it was kicking off during the few months I didn't blog at the start of this year and thus my rants, such as they were, were verbal, and directed at those around me on a daily basis, rather than blogged. However, it would be more relevant to say that I didn't comment publically largely because I find the whole thing just too upsetting to think about very much. Coming from a very large, very Welsh, family (the Welsh attitude to children and family is pretty close to veneration for the uninitiated) mentally I shy away from considering the sickness of mind which would inflict the sort of pain on a child which Baby P endured. I am not exaggerating when I say to think about the issue very much would lead to quite unpleasant nightmares on my part, and I'm enough of a coward to attempt to avoid that if I can.
However, today on reading the BBC news website (surprise surprise), I discover that attention has now turned to the NHS professionals who had dealings with the child; they have received criticism for failing to pick up on Peter's injuries earlier. The BBC helpfully listed the occasions on which the child had contact with the NHS:
- Six recorded visits to hospital, two of which were to an A&E unit
- A GP saw Peter 14 times, the last of which was a week before his death.
- One visit to a specialist health service.
- Five visits made to Peter at home by health visitors
- Two recorded visits to walk-in centres
- Other contacts include mental health workers and parenting counselling service
On the face of it, it's pretty shocking, isn't it? The GP and another paediatrician have now apparently been suspended on the strength of this case (see below for my reaction to that). However, just think about it for a minute... here we have SIX different areas of expertise between which the unfortunate child was shuffled. The report itself admits there wasn't a coherent level of communication between any of them so reading between the lines, it seems each was effectively working in a vacuum, not knowing whether anybody else had noticed anything strange about Peter's injuries. And I think this is the crucial point...
These days nobody has the guts to stand up publically and say there are some parents out there who are just not fit to be parents. No, in these PC times, we have to consider those parents' 'human rights' etc etc and as a result, rather than looking the problem in the face and seeing it for what it is, we have shied away from it and created a whole raft of different 'organisations' and experts to whom to pass the buck. A&E departments, unless in cases where it is utterly impossible to ignore the nature of injuries, are far more likely to let the patients go once they've been treated and make a discreet phone call to social services/the patient's GP than they are to call anybody WHILST THE PATIENT IS IN THE HOSPITAL because they are just SCARED. Scared of the physical violence which could so be easily directed towards them once the suspected perpetrators realise what has happened. Scared they'll be seen as 'interfering', 'judgemental' or 'prejudiced' and denounced as such by the lentil-knitting PC crew who have infiltrated virtually every public institution. Scared of the potential legal action which could be directed against them and their hospital/health authority by the suspected perpetrators who, by and large, are pretty savvy as regards sniffing out the possibility of compensation and aware they have been handed the upper hand in such situations by the aforementioned lentil-knitting mob. It takes a very brave health professional these days to put their neck on the block and actually kick off about injuries they see which they find suspicious. Coupled with the fact most NHS emergency services are run off their feet most of their working day, I'm not at all surprised they didn't appear to have said very much on the occasions Peter was under their care.
After an (unsurprisingly) pretty firm, complaint from me following a particularly blatant piece of stupidity on the part of our local health visitor (a Barbie-like creature not even I can find the words to express my contempt for) I was thankfully spared much contact with health visitor services after Mini got to the toddling stage. You can imagine my thoughts on their general efficiency however... I have no doubt that some of them are genuinely excellent at their job and do no end of good. However, I am also equally sure that the vast majority are absolutely useless when it comes to doing anything more than uttering vapid statements along the lines of 'there, there, have some antidepressants and join a playgroup'. It's rather sad we have to have them at all, and I can't help but think all the authorities actually envisaged them doing when they were created was filling the vacuum left when modern society lost contact with the notion of 'extended family'. All in all, therefore, I am completely unsurprised nothing resulted from Baby P having contact with health visitors...
Looking at the rest of the list of organisations with whom Baby P had contact, brings forth many of the same thoughts. We just can't expect health professionals to voluntarily kick off about potentially abused individuals when we have simultaneously allowed a culture to develop where they are likely to cop a lot of politically-correct flak for doing so. There are, however, two exceptions to this; firstly I note mental health services were involved. Did it not occur to anybody that if the parents are perceived as needing this sort of treatment it might be a good idea to play safe vis a vis the children concerned? Oh, silly me, of course not - to do so would infringe the human rights of the mentally disturbed. Secondly, I cannot excuse the GP (whom I note has been suspended); he had more contact with the family than anybody else, he was the best placed to form an adequate assessment of the danger posed by the parents to the children, and he was the first to see many of the child's injuries. I haven't actually read any comments stemming directly from this person, but if, as I suspect, he felt hamstrung by the considerations I have outlined above, I don't think in this case he deserves any sympathy. 14 visits to him and six to A&E are way, way too many to ignore unless the child had a chronic health problem and I haven't seen anybody saying that this was thought to be the case. He should be ashamed of himself and should lose his job.
None of this is going to bring Peter back, poor little soul. Nor in my wildest dreams do I imagine it's going to mean we are going to get an injection of common sense into the set up and a move towards telling the PC-mob where they can stuff their rights. If you talk privately to most health professionals, the police, or even social services, most of them will admit THEY think there are some people out there who just aren't fit to be parents, to use the phrase I employed earlier. But they can't actually DO anyting about it because they'll be hung out to dry for letting their middle class prejudices affect their work. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH MIDDLE-CLASS PREJUDICE? I am not suggesting for one minute there aren't abusive middle-class parents but statistically they are much smaller in number than those in 'problem families'. Middle class kids might be subjected to mental pressure as regards to doing their homework or get rickets from a too vigorous adoption of whatever trendy diet is in vogue at the time, but by and large they do not visit the doctor's surgery 14 times with injuries including a broken back. Why CAN'T children who are living in appalling conditions (and who the professionals know are statistically unlikely to lead productive, fulfilled later lives because of this poor start) be taken out of these conditions and placed with middle-class adoptive parents? (Goodness knows there are enough childless couples, or ones who just want more children around to love). Yes, there undoubtedly would be cases, where for whatever reason, the authorities got it wrong and children would be moved unjustly, but I would argue these are likely to be far smaller in number, assuming we had people with some common sense at the helm of the relevant authorities, than we that of children currently suffering.
In considering the rights of the abusive parents who gave birth to these unfortunate kids, we are forgetting the rights of those children themselves. And surely it is the children who are the most important thing - or am I missing something here?
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
A couple of overdue rants...
Is it just me, or is everybody else sick of this flipping 'MPs' expenses' debacle?
Personally, I don't really give a tinker's cuss what public monies the little dears have been directing towards their own wallets to pay for their mucky-film hire and take-away curries - how ever much the bill comes to it would be but a drop in the ocean compared to the gazillions Comrade Brown has chucked at various banks, had the elves photocopy at the Mint or blown on bomb-dropping sprees in the Middle East. What it IS, however, evidence of, in my humble opinion, is a very nasty little facet to the English character (as if there weren't enough anyway); ie. the deep seated dislike of anybody who has more money than you do and a sort of obsessive-compulsive need to Cut Them Down To Size. Now, I have a suspicion this has its roots in the fact the English are, always have been, and always will be, essentially feudal in outlook and are thus never so happy as when they can have a good old moan about the 'toffs' they perceive as 'above' them in status whilst simultaneously dumping royally on anyone unlucky enough to be thought to be 'below' so that they Stay There. Monty Python, not for the only time, was bang on the money about that one. I could go on about this but I shall save that for another outing (there's bound to be one!). The essence of my theory is if your average Englishman finds out you earn 50p more than him per annum, your days on his Christmas Card List are numbered. (And ironically these are the people who have such a downer on Communism... beats me!)
I've lost count of how many whinges along the lines of 'MPs are paid too much anyway, it's disgusting they've been fiddling their expenses and defrauding the taxpayer' I've seen on various public fora. What this ACTUALLY means is 'MPs are paid more than ME and I'm jealous *I* haven't had the chance to put my paw in the till too'.. Because, and make no mistake about it, I would be extremely surprised if any of the Oh-So-Moral (and I regret to say largely fairly illiterate) commentators would behave any differently were THEY put in the same environment as our beloved elected leaders. You don't fool me, contributors to the BBC Have Your Say forum, oh no,...
What completely bypasses the subjective little minds of these people is the fact that in real terms, our MPs are NOT paid much money. The current salary for the average MP is £65K per annum - which moreover is taxable - ie. about the same as one might expect to get for a fairly average middle-management position. We only the pay the Prime Minister himself around £195K which is far, far, less than the MD of even a moderately-sized company could expect to receive per annum. All THIS is, I would suggest, the problem - to quote my Dear Old Dad, 'you pay peanuts, you get monkeys'. In this case monkeys of very average ability WHO WE ARE EXPECTING TO RUN THE COUNTRY. Is it any surprise, then, we are in the abject mess in which we currently find ourselves?
The trouble is, given the English need to knock down anybody climbing up the greasy pole faster than they can, there isn't an easy way out of this. Given the current furore over a few thousand quid blown on some cushions CAN YOU IMAGINE the uproar there would be if we kicked the whole bag of mediocrities currently at Westminster out and replaced them with truly excellent, innovative and imaginative, leaders - and paid them industry-equivalent salaries?? I suspect the BBC Have Your Say server would melt down in around 10 minutes under the weight of grammatically-dubious protest coming its way. The same people who have absolutely no problem with various anorexic, bipolar, junkie, chanteuses earning, say, a conservative £2m per annum for inflicting what they laughingly call 'music' on the world would have an instant cardiac at the thought of paying somebody even half that amount to run our country.
I will NEVER understand the English... and frankly, I am absolutely nauseated by the spectacle of so many MPs, shiftily shuffling their feet around, eyes downcast in the best Princess Diana tradition, SAYING SORRY for being naughty boys and girls and helping themselves to that wicked patio heater. It's just more evidence to me of their basic mediocrity and craven need to stay on the little pedestals they've clawed their way on to - I'd have FAR more respect for them if they just said 'Stuff you - I needed that patio heater, I was entitled to claim for it and I'll bloody well do so again given half the chance'. At least that would be honest.
Which brings me on to my next overdue topic of discussion... swine flu. Again, I am sick to my back teeth of listening to the endless chatter about this particular topic. According to a report made only a few hours from my writing this, there have been 4,700 cases worldwide and 61 deaths so far: my reaction? BIG BLEDDY DEAL. Sorry guys, but these figures would just not be newsworthy were the media not intent on following the dictates of their political masters and are whipping up hysteria about it in a vain attempt to divert attention from the economic situation.
So, in the best iconoclastic vein, here is an effort to restore some balance... the Angevin attempt to try to put some perspective on things:
- It is estimated that each year in the UK alone around 114,000 people die from tobacco-related diseases
- Estimates of annual alcohol-related deaths in England and Wales vary from 5,000 to 40,000.
- Since the beginning of August 2008 91,164 cases of cholera were reported in Zimbabwe alone, 4,037 of them were mortal.
- From 1967-1993, the World Health Organization has reported an annual average of 1666 cases of bubonic plague. The number of actual cases is probably much higher, given the failure of many countries to diagnose and report the plague. In America an average of 10-15 cases per year have been reported during the last few decades.
So get real guys... yes, the swine flu can, has and probably will continue to, kill people. But so do a lot of other things - AND WE HAVE A VACCINE FOR SWINE FLU. Frankly, I'd take my chances with bedding down with the dear little piggies for a week rather than try to cross the road at Hyde Park Corner during daylight hours...
Personally, I don't really give a tinker's cuss what public monies the little dears have been directing towards their own wallets to pay for their mucky-film hire and take-away curries - how ever much the bill comes to it would be but a drop in the ocean compared to the gazillions Comrade Brown has chucked at various banks, had the elves photocopy at the Mint or blown on bomb-dropping sprees in the Middle East. What it IS, however, evidence of, in my humble opinion, is a very nasty little facet to the English character (as if there weren't enough anyway); ie. the deep seated dislike of anybody who has more money than you do and a sort of obsessive-compulsive need to Cut Them Down To Size. Now, I have a suspicion this has its roots in the fact the English are, always have been, and always will be, essentially feudal in outlook and are thus never so happy as when they can have a good old moan about the 'toffs' they perceive as 'above' them in status whilst simultaneously dumping royally on anyone unlucky enough to be thought to be 'below' so that they Stay There. Monty Python, not for the only time, was bang on the money about that one. I could go on about this but I shall save that for another outing (there's bound to be one!). The essence of my theory is if your average Englishman finds out you earn 50p more than him per annum, your days on his Christmas Card List are numbered. (And ironically these are the people who have such a downer on Communism... beats me!)
I've lost count of how many whinges along the lines of 'MPs are paid too much anyway, it's disgusting they've been fiddling their expenses and defrauding the taxpayer' I've seen on various public fora. What this ACTUALLY means is 'MPs are paid more than ME and I'm jealous *I* haven't had the chance to put my paw in the till too'.. Because, and make no mistake about it, I would be extremely surprised if any of the Oh-So-Moral (and I regret to say largely fairly illiterate) commentators would behave any differently were THEY put in the same environment as our beloved elected leaders. You don't fool me, contributors to the BBC Have Your Say forum, oh no,...
What completely bypasses the subjective little minds of these people is the fact that in real terms, our MPs are NOT paid much money. The current salary for the average MP is £65K per annum - which moreover is taxable - ie. about the same as one might expect to get for a fairly average middle-management position. We only the pay the Prime Minister himself around £195K which is far, far, less than the MD of even a moderately-sized company could expect to receive per annum. All THIS is, I would suggest, the problem - to quote my Dear Old Dad, 'you pay peanuts, you get monkeys'. In this case monkeys of very average ability WHO WE ARE EXPECTING TO RUN THE COUNTRY. Is it any surprise, then, we are in the abject mess in which we currently find ourselves?
The trouble is, given the English need to knock down anybody climbing up the greasy pole faster than they can, there isn't an easy way out of this. Given the current furore over a few thousand quid blown on some cushions CAN YOU IMAGINE the uproar there would be if we kicked the whole bag of mediocrities currently at Westminster out and replaced them with truly excellent, innovative and imaginative, leaders - and paid them industry-equivalent salaries?? I suspect the BBC Have Your Say server would melt down in around 10 minutes under the weight of grammatically-dubious protest coming its way. The same people who have absolutely no problem with various anorexic, bipolar, junkie, chanteuses earning, say, a conservative £2m per annum for inflicting what they laughingly call 'music' on the world would have an instant cardiac at the thought of paying somebody even half that amount to run our country.
I will NEVER understand the English... and frankly, I am absolutely nauseated by the spectacle of so many MPs, shiftily shuffling their feet around, eyes downcast in the best Princess Diana tradition, SAYING SORRY for being naughty boys and girls and helping themselves to that wicked patio heater. It's just more evidence to me of their basic mediocrity and craven need to stay on the little pedestals they've clawed their way on to - I'd have FAR more respect for them if they just said 'Stuff you - I needed that patio heater, I was entitled to claim for it and I'll bloody well do so again given half the chance'. At least that would be honest.
Which brings me on to my next overdue topic of discussion... swine flu. Again, I am sick to my back teeth of listening to the endless chatter about this particular topic. According to a report made only a few hours from my writing this, there have been 4,700 cases worldwide and 61 deaths so far: my reaction? BIG BLEDDY DEAL. Sorry guys, but these figures would just not be newsworthy were the media not intent on following the dictates of their political masters and are whipping up hysteria about it in a vain attempt to divert attention from the economic situation.
So, in the best iconoclastic vein, here is an effort to restore some balance... the Angevin attempt to try to put some perspective on things:
- It is estimated that each year in the UK alone around 114,000 people die from tobacco-related diseases
- Estimates of annual alcohol-related deaths in England and Wales vary from 5,000 to 40,000.
- Since the beginning of August 2008 91,164 cases of cholera were reported in Zimbabwe alone, 4,037 of them were mortal.
- From 1967-1993, the World Health Organization has reported an annual average of 1666 cases of bubonic plague. The number of actual cases is probably much higher, given the failure of many countries to diagnose and report the plague. In America an average of 10-15 cases per year have been reported during the last few decades.
So get real guys... yes, the swine flu can, has and probably will continue to, kill people. But so do a lot of other things - AND WE HAVE A VACCINE FOR SWINE FLU. Frankly, I'd take my chances with bedding down with the dear little piggies for a week rather than try to cross the road at Hyde Park Corner during daylight hours...
I really should keep my big mouth shut...
...especially about the chickens.
A few weeks ago, when indulging in the ritual sport of teasing James (who occasionally helps me with the birds) about his fondness for bantams (can't stand the things myself as a general rule - they're too small to eat, their eggs are piddly, they jump around and they make stupid noises) he made his usual pathetic attempt to justify his bizarre taste in chickens by mentioning that his ghastly little things go broody so at least that saves him collecting eggs and shoving them in incubators. "Yes, yes, yes, yes" said I blithely, "but my brahmas tend NOT to go broody - which means they keep laying and I can flog the eggs to interested punters, thereby making enough cash to cover their costs..."
THE NEXT TIME I SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT somebody please slap me. The very next day two of my wilful little madams decided there was nothing else which would fulfil them so much as sitting inside their houses on top of a bunch of eggs and repelling all boarders who tried to move them. And it's spread... I now have approaching TEN biddies in the same situation. Now, whilst broody brahma hens are immensely funny to look at - they look just like fluffy galleons in full sail, pull extremely grumpy faces and make the most hilarious outraged noises if you go near them - I was at least bang on the money when I said they don't continue to lay when they are brooding. Which means they aren't earning their keep... and there is the side issue of now *I* am the butt of James' teasing, rather than the other way around....
...at least, I suppose, he's right and I don't have the hassle of dealing with so many eggs in the incubators... grrrrr
A few weeks ago, when indulging in the ritual sport of teasing James (who occasionally helps me with the birds) about his fondness for bantams (can't stand the things myself as a general rule - they're too small to eat, their eggs are piddly, they jump around and they make stupid noises) he made his usual pathetic attempt to justify his bizarre taste in chickens by mentioning that his ghastly little things go broody so at least that saves him collecting eggs and shoving them in incubators. "Yes, yes, yes, yes" said I blithely, "but my brahmas tend NOT to go broody - which means they keep laying and I can flog the eggs to interested punters, thereby making enough cash to cover their costs..."
THE NEXT TIME I SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT somebody please slap me. The very next day two of my wilful little madams decided there was nothing else which would fulfil them so much as sitting inside their houses on top of a bunch of eggs and repelling all boarders who tried to move them. And it's spread... I now have approaching TEN biddies in the same situation. Now, whilst broody brahma hens are immensely funny to look at - they look just like fluffy galleons in full sail, pull extremely grumpy faces and make the most hilarious outraged noises if you go near them - I was at least bang on the money when I said they don't continue to lay when they are brooding. Which means they aren't earning their keep... and there is the side issue of now *I* am the butt of James' teasing, rather than the other way around....
...at least, I suppose, he's right and I don't have the hassle of dealing with so many eggs in the incubators... grrrrr
Sunday, 10 May 2009
Whew, that was some weekend...
Just as well I had a thoroughly relaxing time en seule in France for a few days, because this weekend has been a thoroughly draining emotional roller coaster.
For those of you unaware of the fact, I am involved with a small chamber choir (www.dodecantus.org.uk); but before anybody starts thinking we skip around singing piddly little madrigals and more of the same sort of navel-gazing musical self- indulgence, let me disabuse you. Dodecantus, from its inception, has always striven to be 'different' - we put on things which even large choral societies would think twice about. And by some miracle 99% of the time we manage to pull it off, possibly the prime example of this being our rendition of Poulenc's Stabat Mater which, for the uninitiated, is a hideously difficult piece of music. We are, to our knowledge, the only chamber choir to ever even think about doing it and so far, thankfully, we have had rave reviews at every outing.
Anyway, to get back to the point, this Friday and Saturday saw us presenting our Spring programme, which in the general scheme of things tends to focus on music lifted from the more serious side of the spectrum. On this occasion we sang seven items from the Rachmaninov Vespers, a cantata by Karl Jenkins (Dewi Sant) and four anthems (Mathias' Let the People Praise Thee, O God, Bainton's And I Saw a New Heaven , Walton's Set me as a Seal and that old warhorse of the English choral repertoire, Parry's I Was Glad, for those who are interested). I admit to a certain amount of quiet back-patting when several members of the audience who hadn't been to one of our concerts before confessed when they saw only 15 singers trot out at the start they wondered whether they should have come, as there is nothing worse than sitting in a seat squirming in embarrassment as you watch people make fools of themselves on stage, but they were completely won over before we'd even finished the first number. We were indeed in good form, and I think last night in particular was one of the best performances we have ever given.
Which is especially good, because it was our conductor's last concert leading us; unfortunately he's had to bow to work pressure following a promotion and we were the sacrifice. Now, in the almost-three-year period of Martin's rule, it's the nature of the beast that it hasn't always been sweetness and light - musicians being what they are, there's been a certain amount of whinging and griping along the way from all parties. However, in the course of the evening, it was really brought home to me, both from the comments our members were making, and from observations from the audience, just how much of a team effort this choir is; and how much Martin has contributed to that team effort. In giving my farewell post-singing thanks I don't think there was a dry eye in the house, nor at the traditional expedition to the curry-house-opposite-the-church after the concert did the atmosphere alter. It really struck home to me how much the choir means to so many of the membership - we've all made it our 'second family' and just the sheer joy of making a harmonious (well, OK, 'MOSTLY harmonious'!) noise once a week has so enriched us all.
All of which has really made the headache of finding our next conductor more intense... Martin's successor will have to be exceptional... watch this space!
For those of you unaware of the fact, I am involved with a small chamber choir (www.dodecantus.org.uk); but before anybody starts thinking we skip around singing piddly little madrigals and more of the same sort of navel-gazing musical self- indulgence, let me disabuse you. Dodecantus, from its inception, has always striven to be 'different' - we put on things which even large choral societies would think twice about. And by some miracle 99% of the time we manage to pull it off, possibly the prime example of this being our rendition of Poulenc's Stabat Mater which, for the uninitiated, is a hideously difficult piece of music. We are, to our knowledge, the only chamber choir to ever even think about doing it and so far, thankfully, we have had rave reviews at every outing.
Anyway, to get back to the point, this Friday and Saturday saw us presenting our Spring programme, which in the general scheme of things tends to focus on music lifted from the more serious side of the spectrum. On this occasion we sang seven items from the Rachmaninov Vespers, a cantata by Karl Jenkins (Dewi Sant) and four anthems (Mathias' Let the People Praise Thee, O God, Bainton's And I Saw a New Heaven , Walton's Set me as a Seal and that old warhorse of the English choral repertoire, Parry's I Was Glad, for those who are interested). I admit to a certain amount of quiet back-patting when several members of the audience who hadn't been to one of our concerts before confessed when they saw only 15 singers trot out at the start they wondered whether they should have come, as there is nothing worse than sitting in a seat squirming in embarrassment as you watch people make fools of themselves on stage, but they were completely won over before we'd even finished the first number. We were indeed in good form, and I think last night in particular was one of the best performances we have ever given.
Which is especially good, because it was our conductor's last concert leading us; unfortunately he's had to bow to work pressure following a promotion and we were the sacrifice. Now, in the almost-three-year period of Martin's rule, it's the nature of the beast that it hasn't always been sweetness and light - musicians being what they are, there's been a certain amount of whinging and griping along the way from all parties. However, in the course of the evening, it was really brought home to me, both from the comments our members were making, and from observations from the audience, just how much of a team effort this choir is; and how much Martin has contributed to that team effort. In giving my farewell post-singing thanks I don't think there was a dry eye in the house, nor at the traditional expedition to the curry-house-opposite-the-church after the concert did the atmosphere alter. It really struck home to me how much the choir means to so many of the membership - we've all made it our 'second family' and just the sheer joy of making a harmonious (well, OK, 'MOSTLY harmonious'!) noise once a week has so enriched us all.
All of which has really made the headache of finding our next conductor more intense... Martin's successor will have to be exceptional... watch this space!
Friday, 24 April 2009
I really, really should NOT...
... look at the BBC news website when I've got a lot of things to do. It's asking for trouble, frankly, because I invariably find something to rant about; ranting leads to blogging; and blogging leads to more cups of tea and then a frantic rush around as I try to catch up on all the things I should have been doing during the time I've spent at the keyboard...
BUT... I never learn, and this morning found me innocently logging on whilst downing my second pint of tea with the thought 'I'll just see what's been going on in the world before I load the dishwasher again'. BIG MISTAKE - because the following caught my eye
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/8015981.stm
For those who can't access this link, it's about a 50 year old, Janet, who has spent over £12,000 on cosmetic surgery so she can look like her 29 year old daughter, Jane. Now, people who are familiar with my thoughts on this sort of thing can just imagine the mounting rage as I read the article and watched the video of this inane pair. It is just so WRONG on so many levels... and is really an extension of my rant about Susan Boyle earlier on this month. My observations can be summed up briefly as:
1. Compare the way Janet look now with the photograph in the clip of her on the blue sofa. Does she really think she looks better now? If she does, she is delusional - I think most people would agree picture of the happy, smiling, GENUINE woman on the sofa is a lot more attractive than the strutting, plastic Barbie of a creature she is now.
2. Who does she think she is fooling? She does NOT look one day under her real age of 50, despite what the people in the street say on camera - and the embarrassed squirming of the latter should indicate to Janet they are trying to be kind to her rather than be honest. She does NOT look like her daughter's sister. What she actually looks like is a 50 year old with an inability to face up to the fact she IS 50. Oh, and who possesses an unfortunate love affair with the peroxide bottle.
3. Why on earth does she feel the need to go partying with her DAUGHTER? Why on earth does her daughter tolerate this? Are the pair of them really so devoid of friends that they have cling together in this rather parasitic manner? Before anybody starts, I'm not suggesting I think people should only have friends from their own age group - I think it's healthy to have friends of all ages from a variety of different backgrounds - nor do I think it's wrong parents should spend time with their grown up children. However, and perhaps this is just me and my old-fashioned attitude, I think the spectacle of a 50 year old going clubbing is inherently undignified and indicates a complete lack of maturity on Janet's part. What is so wrong with facing facts and acknowledging you are going to cut a vaguely ridiculous figure if you continue to do the things you did 20 years earlier? 'Let go, accept you've moved on to another phase in life and take on the new and exciting challenges that come with it, rather than desperately try to cling on to the past' would, I suggest be a far more productive attitude for Janet to adopt.
4. It's notable that when Janet went through a bad patch and 'lost confidence' as she puts it (I suspect through a messy divorce for which she has my understanding and consummate sympathy) she didn't pick herself up by improving herself mentally through, for example, going back to college or learning something new. No, she headed for the plastic surgeon. Speaks volumes about her values, doesn't it?
5. It's also notable that her daughter Jane's reaction was 'It's dangerous' rather than 'Stop copying me and go out and get your own style which suits YOU'. Which speaks volumes about the mental capacity of Jane.
I am not only angry about this article I am saddened by it. To me, it's yet another episode which proves what thoroughly shallow attitudes are now prevalent: this is a 50 year old woman mutilating herself to try to fulfil what we have as a society come to expect from women. These days it's NOT OK to reach 50 with a few extra pounds, a few wrinkles around the eyes and an acknowledgement that gravity is doing its worst on the rest of your body; oh no, we all have to look half-starved, pumped up and (literally) botoxed up to the eyeballs to get any sort of respect.
Or, looking more closely, DO women in fact get this respect following this path? I'm not sure. Janet and Jane acknowledge they get 'stared at' when they go out, which doesn't seem very respectful to me. A discussion of how well a woman has aged usually includes some speculation regarding how much 'work' she's had done on herself; which again, doesn't ring of esteem for that woman somehow. Now, I'm not against any woman trying to make the best of herself; in fact I think it's a mark of respect to those with whom you have to interact to look presentable and as if you've 'made an effort'. But again, it's necessary to do things in moderation - thinking it's OK to spend £12,000 to make yourself look like Barbie goes well beyond that line and I'd put money on Janet deep down still feeling the same insecurity she did pre-surgery and returning to the operating table in the future to have a few more things done to herself which she will tell herself will 'boost her self confidence'.
I think it's also an interesting point that these are two WOMEN... I don't see any articles about 50 year old blokes spending thousands to make them look more like their sons. Which speaks volumes about how society still places more importance on how a woman looks than it does on anything else about her; whilst it's Ok for a bloke to age gracefully a woman seemingly has to do anything possible to remain looking like a 30 year old. It's pathetic, it's unfair, it's a thorough waste and it's just WRONG.
In my opinion it's a shame Janet didn't, as I said earlier, take the opportunity to learn some new skills or try taking on a challenge which involved using her brain. Ultimately, all the work she's had done on her body will either need to be re-done, or jigged around if she still wants to look like Barbie when she's 60, whereas any knowledge she could have gained would have been hers forever. Perhaps that would have been in the long run make more of an impact on her self confidence? OH, silly me, I forget - this is England where any attempt to get yourself a decent education as regarded as way down the list of desireable activities when compared with issues such as looking like Jordan, or going out at the weekend and getting so plastered you can't stand up.
I'll say it before and I'll say it again.. if we want to have a nation which isn't forcing its womenfolk to shuttle between the plastic surgeon to try to vainly turn the clock back and the shrink when their attempts fail and they don't have the mental resources to deal with that failure, we need to change our attitude with regard to what we think is important. Susan Boyle eventually got some respect, despite her looks, because she spent her time developing a talent which had nothing to do with her appearance; I don't see Janet getting anything like that respect any time soon because all she's concentrated on is her appearance. The day the English stop using the word 'clever' as an insult will be the day the country has started to correct the imbalance between the attention it pays to rubbish and the consideration it gives to the things which really matter. Unfortunately, the pigs are cleared and ready for take off on that one...
BUT... I never learn, and this morning found me innocently logging on whilst downing my second pint of tea with the thought 'I'll just see what's been going on in the world before I load the dishwasher again'. BIG MISTAKE - because the following caught my eye
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/8015981.stm
For those who can't access this link, it's about a 50 year old, Janet, who has spent over £12,000 on cosmetic surgery so she can look like her 29 year old daughter, Jane. Now, people who are familiar with my thoughts on this sort of thing can just imagine the mounting rage as I read the article and watched the video of this inane pair. It is just so WRONG on so many levels... and is really an extension of my rant about Susan Boyle earlier on this month. My observations can be summed up briefly as:
1. Compare the way Janet look now with the photograph in the clip of her on the blue sofa. Does she really think she looks better now? If she does, she is delusional - I think most people would agree picture of the happy, smiling, GENUINE woman on the sofa is a lot more attractive than the strutting, plastic Barbie of a creature she is now.
2. Who does she think she is fooling? She does NOT look one day under her real age of 50, despite what the people in the street say on camera - and the embarrassed squirming of the latter should indicate to Janet they are trying to be kind to her rather than be honest. She does NOT look like her daughter's sister. What she actually looks like is a 50 year old with an inability to face up to the fact she IS 50. Oh, and who possesses an unfortunate love affair with the peroxide bottle.
3. Why on earth does she feel the need to go partying with her DAUGHTER? Why on earth does her daughter tolerate this? Are the pair of them really so devoid of friends that they have cling together in this rather parasitic manner? Before anybody starts, I'm not suggesting I think people should only have friends from their own age group - I think it's healthy to have friends of all ages from a variety of different backgrounds - nor do I think it's wrong parents should spend time with their grown up children. However, and perhaps this is just me and my old-fashioned attitude, I think the spectacle of a 50 year old going clubbing is inherently undignified and indicates a complete lack of maturity on Janet's part. What is so wrong with facing facts and acknowledging you are going to cut a vaguely ridiculous figure if you continue to do the things you did 20 years earlier? 'Let go, accept you've moved on to another phase in life and take on the new and exciting challenges that come with it, rather than desperately try to cling on to the past' would, I suggest be a far more productive attitude for Janet to adopt.
4. It's notable that when Janet went through a bad patch and 'lost confidence' as she puts it (I suspect through a messy divorce for which she has my understanding and consummate sympathy) she didn't pick herself up by improving herself mentally through, for example, going back to college or learning something new. No, she headed for the plastic surgeon. Speaks volumes about her values, doesn't it?
5. It's also notable that her daughter Jane's reaction was 'It's dangerous' rather than 'Stop copying me and go out and get your own style which suits YOU'. Which speaks volumes about the mental capacity of Jane.
I am not only angry about this article I am saddened by it. To me, it's yet another episode which proves what thoroughly shallow attitudes are now prevalent: this is a 50 year old woman mutilating herself to try to fulfil what we have as a society come to expect from women. These days it's NOT OK to reach 50 with a few extra pounds, a few wrinkles around the eyes and an acknowledgement that gravity is doing its worst on the rest of your body; oh no, we all have to look half-starved, pumped up and (literally) botoxed up to the eyeballs to get any sort of respect.
Or, looking more closely, DO women in fact get this respect following this path? I'm not sure. Janet and Jane acknowledge they get 'stared at' when they go out, which doesn't seem very respectful to me. A discussion of how well a woman has aged usually includes some speculation regarding how much 'work' she's had done on herself; which again, doesn't ring of esteem for that woman somehow. Now, I'm not against any woman trying to make the best of herself; in fact I think it's a mark of respect to those with whom you have to interact to look presentable and as if you've 'made an effort'. But again, it's necessary to do things in moderation - thinking it's OK to spend £12,000 to make yourself look like Barbie goes well beyond that line and I'd put money on Janet deep down still feeling the same insecurity she did pre-surgery and returning to the operating table in the future to have a few more things done to herself which she will tell herself will 'boost her self confidence'.
I think it's also an interesting point that these are two WOMEN... I don't see any articles about 50 year old blokes spending thousands to make them look more like their sons. Which speaks volumes about how society still places more importance on how a woman looks than it does on anything else about her; whilst it's Ok for a bloke to age gracefully a woman seemingly has to do anything possible to remain looking like a 30 year old. It's pathetic, it's unfair, it's a thorough waste and it's just WRONG.
In my opinion it's a shame Janet didn't, as I said earlier, take the opportunity to learn some new skills or try taking on a challenge which involved using her brain. Ultimately, all the work she's had done on her body will either need to be re-done, or jigged around if she still wants to look like Barbie when she's 60, whereas any knowledge she could have gained would have been hers forever. Perhaps that would have been in the long run make more of an impact on her self confidence? OH, silly me, I forget - this is England where any attempt to get yourself a decent education as regarded as way down the list of desireable activities when compared with issues such as looking like Jordan, or going out at the weekend and getting so plastered you can't stand up.
I'll say it before and I'll say it again.. if we want to have a nation which isn't forcing its womenfolk to shuttle between the plastic surgeon to try to vainly turn the clock back and the shrink when their attempts fail and they don't have the mental resources to deal with that failure, we need to change our attitude with regard to what we think is important. Susan Boyle eventually got some respect, despite her looks, because she spent her time developing a talent which had nothing to do with her appearance; I don't see Janet getting anything like that respect any time soon because all she's concentrated on is her appearance. The day the English stop using the word 'clever' as an insult will be the day the country has started to correct the imbalance between the attention it pays to rubbish and the consideration it gives to the things which really matter. Unfortunately, the pigs are cleared and ready for take off on that one...
Thursday, 23 April 2009
Troll and quilting #2...
...A somewhat shorter expression of puzzlement and frustration than was the epic #1!
I long ago came to the conclusion there are Some Things Which Troll Is Incapable Of Understanding about my various hobbies, and I suppose I should just accept that and leave the whole issue be. However, there's a little bit of me which has hope and still thinks EITHER he just doesn't WANT to understand (in which case I should just give up trying to explain things) OR he is truly baffled and if I just found the right way to put it, he would have a Road to Damascus experience and stop bugging me asking questions such as 'is it really necessary to get x..?' when x is an absolutely crucial part of a project and he should know this as I've already told him the same thing six times with regard to six previous projects.
The whole incomprehension thing really kicks in with regard to the issue of which materials I need to do a quilt from start to finish... this is a very vexed question which causes endless debate at Chateau Angevin. To the extent at times I'm actually tempted to put together a laminated 'We've been here before and because I can't be bothered repeating myself this is the information you need to know before you start pestering me and asking dumb questions AGAIN' sheet I can just pull out of the drawer and hand over when the time comes... Which it will.... sigh. From my perspective none of this is rocket science, but it seems beyond Troll.
For the ininitiated, and just to check with my readership I'm not going completely mad here and it IS indeed as simple as I think it is, these are the components of a quilt:
1. The 'quilt top'. What most people would recognise as and call 'a patchwork quilt'. This is the bit for which you cut up big pieces of fabric into smaller pieces in various shapes and sew them back together to make patterns. Or if you are an 'art quilter' put together something more random which you can give a pretentious title to give yourself a bit more credibility with your trendy arty mates.
2. The 'wadding' or 'batting'. This is a layer of soft cuddly material, which sits under the quilt top. It can be cotton, wool, silk, even cashmere, but at Chateau Angevin, it is NEVER, ever polyester. This is what makes the finished quilt warm and gives it a padded look.
3. The 'backing'. This is a big piece of fabric you put behind the batting so the batting is entirely covered by the quilt top on one side and the backing on the other. This is the biggest problem element for me, because in the UK there are a pathetically small number of places which do extra wide pieces of material you can use for this.. I usually have to order the things from the States and ask the vendors to think up inventive ways of describing the item in order to fox the muppets at Customs and Excise.
What gives a quilt a 'quilted' look is the fact you stitch through all three layers partly to hold them together securely and partly to give a bit more texture. How you stitch through it is also an interesting problem - you can either do the whole lot on the machine, or layer the three elements in a quilting frame of some sort, which holds them tight so you can hand stitch the quilting stitches. A lot of quilters use the opportunity to stitch in pretty patterns which give the whole project another dimension. When all the quilting stitches have been put in, most people get a big long piece of fabric and sew it all around the raw edges of the three layers to make a nice, finished binding. (In Wales the tradition is just to turn the edges of the top and backing under so you butt them together and stitch them closed, but then, you knew us Welsh HAD to be different, didn't you?).
Now none of that is hard to understand is it? Yet, when faced with these simple facts every time I attempt to clear the expenditure with Troll before I go to the shop or order one of the components online, you would swear I was either talking Vulcan or trying to extract the Meaning of Life from the man. A man, moreover, who managed to blag his way into Cambridge for his first degree and Durham for his masters, so such piddly little things as quilting materials should be a matter of a nanosecond's perusal before comprehension is established. Ohhhh nooooo....
Which leaves me thinking is it just me? Is it just Troll? Do other people have difficulty getting the essentials of their pasttimes over to others, or have trouble making that information stick in the brains of the said others for more than about 5 minutes???
I long ago came to the conclusion there are Some Things Which Troll Is Incapable Of Understanding about my various hobbies, and I suppose I should just accept that and leave the whole issue be. However, there's a little bit of me which has hope and still thinks EITHER he just doesn't WANT to understand (in which case I should just give up trying to explain things) OR he is truly baffled and if I just found the right way to put it, he would have a Road to Damascus experience and stop bugging me asking questions such as 'is it really necessary to get x..?' when x is an absolutely crucial part of a project and he should know this as I've already told him the same thing six times with regard to six previous projects.
The whole incomprehension thing really kicks in with regard to the issue of which materials I need to do a quilt from start to finish... this is a very vexed question which causes endless debate at Chateau Angevin. To the extent at times I'm actually tempted to put together a laminated 'We've been here before and because I can't be bothered repeating myself this is the information you need to know before you start pestering me and asking dumb questions AGAIN' sheet I can just pull out of the drawer and hand over when the time comes... Which it will.... sigh. From my perspective none of this is rocket science, but it seems beyond Troll.
For the ininitiated, and just to check with my readership I'm not going completely mad here and it IS indeed as simple as I think it is, these are the components of a quilt:
1. The 'quilt top'. What most people would recognise as and call 'a patchwork quilt'. This is the bit for which you cut up big pieces of fabric into smaller pieces in various shapes and sew them back together to make patterns. Or if you are an 'art quilter' put together something more random which you can give a pretentious title to give yourself a bit more credibility with your trendy arty mates.
2. The 'wadding' or 'batting'. This is a layer of soft cuddly material, which sits under the quilt top. It can be cotton, wool, silk, even cashmere, but at Chateau Angevin, it is NEVER, ever polyester. This is what makes the finished quilt warm and gives it a padded look.
3. The 'backing'. This is a big piece of fabric you put behind the batting so the batting is entirely covered by the quilt top on one side and the backing on the other. This is the biggest problem element for me, because in the UK there are a pathetically small number of places which do extra wide pieces of material you can use for this.. I usually have to order the things from the States and ask the vendors to think up inventive ways of describing the item in order to fox the muppets at Customs and Excise.
What gives a quilt a 'quilted' look is the fact you stitch through all three layers partly to hold them together securely and partly to give a bit more texture. How you stitch through it is also an interesting problem - you can either do the whole lot on the machine, or layer the three elements in a quilting frame of some sort, which holds them tight so you can hand stitch the quilting stitches. A lot of quilters use the opportunity to stitch in pretty patterns which give the whole project another dimension. When all the quilting stitches have been put in, most people get a big long piece of fabric and sew it all around the raw edges of the three layers to make a nice, finished binding. (In Wales the tradition is just to turn the edges of the top and backing under so you butt them together and stitch them closed, but then, you knew us Welsh HAD to be different, didn't you?).
Now none of that is hard to understand is it? Yet, when faced with these simple facts every time I attempt to clear the expenditure with Troll before I go to the shop or order one of the components online, you would swear I was either talking Vulcan or trying to extract the Meaning of Life from the man. A man, moreover, who managed to blag his way into Cambridge for his first degree and Durham for his masters, so such piddly little things as quilting materials should be a matter of a nanosecond's perusal before comprehension is established. Ohhhh nooooo....
Which leaves me thinking is it just me? Is it just Troll? Do other people have difficulty getting the essentials of their pasttimes over to others, or have trouble making that information stick in the brains of the said others for more than about 5 minutes???
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