This & That

Our house guests might have departed but reminders of them remain; I used my clothes brush to remove an entire fistful of fur from the arm chair in the sitting room and every time I sneeze at night previously invisible hairs rise off the bedspread in a cloud. A freshly washed, ironed and clothes brushed pair of navy suit trousers still covered in white hairs. Stray pieces of litter behind the wine boxes in the hallway, a remnant of Louis' over excited digging; a discarded biscuit behind the bin in the kitchen.

Our feline house guests may have departed but it was a busy weekend for human ones. A quiet roast dinner on Friday evening with BestFriend turned into her sleeping over on the sofa. We spent a companionable Saturday morning cleaning and turning chicken bones into stock before she departed for some flat hunting mid afternoon. As one guest left another arrived, this time for a dinner party we hosted in honour of a university friend leaving to join his girlfriend in Stockholm at the end of the month. M cooked a beautiful if time consuming beef in borollo dish. Sunday saw him turn the stock from Saturday into demi-glas which has now been frozen in an ice cube tray - the basis for many more lovely meals in the future. Another dinner on Sunday, this time at someone else's house and an opportunity for M to finish watching The Wire in preparation for the delivery of the OC (series 4) this week. Tonight M is watching football and I shall be hiding in the bedroom for The Apprentice followed by as much OC as I can fit in before bed.

House Guests

They departed last night, our guests Louis and David. They came for the weekend whilst their parents were abroad and spent the weekend playing games, causing trouble, sleeping and eating. Like 'proud parents' ('PP') M and I spent evenings entertaining them and taking photographs of them snuggled up together angelically or fighting in the middle of the floor. Even at such a young age both had distinct personalities: Louis settled down very quickly and thought most activities to be a great game whereas David remained resolutely grumpy and stand-offish. Make the most of a weekend away, not him.

Much as I enjoyed being a PP, I was rather pleased to have an unbroken nights sleep last night. No more drifting off to sleep hoping that they were still alive, no more awakening suddenly as one of them climbed onto the bed, no more lying there in the dark as they chased each other up and down the sitting room engaged in some form of horseplay which invariably ended up with them fighting each other. No more crying outside the bathroom door as I got ready for work, not allowing them inside as they jumped straight into the shower and started trying to lick all the bottles before padding wet paw prints up and down the hall.

There were many touching moments in the weekend as well as the outright comical, like finding Louis down the back of the bedside table snuggled into a ball in a space which looked far too small for him and having to get him out again somehow. Or both of them standing on their back paws trying to reach up to the glasses of water on a table. Or finding them both curled up on a pile of shoes on the floor underneath our clothes rail. They also both had a habit of sneaking under the duvet during the early morning hours, so I often awakened to find one of them curled up sleeping in the crook of my knees. So it was with mixed emotions that I packed up their food and bowls, emptied their tray one last time and watched with horror as just before their parents came to collect them Louis coughed up a fur ball and was sick on the floor.

Overheard at lunchtime...

On trying to ingratiate oneself with the partners of a law firm: "I attended University of Columbia, before that the Spence School. Of course, I was at school with Gwyneth Paltrow. I'm a year older than her." "Are you friends with her then?" "We see each other at Spence School functions...could get her as a client. Their marriage is good though. He, Chris Martin, is really down to earth...cares for the kids". "Well, I'll certainly bring it up at the next partners meeting."

On finding adult children too needy: "He rang me when we were on holiday to say that he'd punctured the fridge with a knife whilst he was defrosting it, and what should he do? We can't even go away by ourselves without them ringing up. The other one rang from her honeymoon in the Maldives to say that she was worried she was depressed. She doesn't know the meaning of depressed..."

Say hello to your neighbours

The BBC reports today that 1 in 10 people questioned for a survey do not speak to their neighbours. It goes onto suggest that the streets are empty and that there is a serious decline in everyday interaction.

We live in a typical somewhat suburban inner London street; a mixture of Victorian and modern houses, some converted into a number of flats, some are family houses. We are not on a main bus route but there is a tube station fairly nearby so there is pretty much a constant trickle of pedestrians up and down the road for most of the day. Every match day this number is multiplied many fold. There are also various workmen about completing one project or another.

One of the nicest things about living where we do is that we have friendly neighbours. We are friends with the people who live upstairs from us and frequently pop round to each other's flats for drinks. We are also able to just text each other if the music is too loud, or whatever, rather than letting it annoy each other and cause resentment. It is surprising how low our music can be and still be heard 2 flights up.

We are also on good terms with the neighbours to the side - greeting each other rather than drinking together - and they came round last night with a bottle of champagne to apologise for some rather prolonged building work which had taken up many weekends before they moved in. Last week we popped home to vote at lunchtime and returned quickly to the house. The dog started barking and Mrs Neighbour came to check that there were no burglars. Whilst some people may deem that nosy, I was very appreciative that someone noticed that there was unusual activity in our garden and came to investigate.

Our property is unusual in terms of access to other properties so we do see our neighbours at the back more than perhaps others do as we share an access way and also the gardens are connected. We are on very good terms with the parents of the family and do our best to use our shared parts of land to minimise disturbance to each other. The BBC article indicates that many neighbourhood disputes arise over a lack of communication - something which we have certainly noticed first-hand. Sharing communal parts inevitably leads to differing ideas over how things should be done and whose priorities are more important; an issue exacerbated when one party owns and the other party rents. Communicating with each other regularly seems to have smoothed the issues of contention and both parties have learnt to compromise.

As to other people on the street, well that is harder. People do tend to keep themselves to themselves in London and apart from our immediate neighbours I would not recognise people who live near-by. Free-cycle has introduced me to a few very friendly people in the area but they are not people I see on a regular basis. I know our normal postman to say hello to and he knows which address is mine but it is not always the same postman (or at least I presume it isn't since sometimes the postman hands me the post yet on other occasions our neighbours bring it round as it has been posted through the wrong door).

Whilst I agree that everyday interaction is important there is also a need, especially in a city like London, to be able to switch off at home and not feel that people are constantly haranguing you or being nosy. Personally I am appreciative of friendly neighbours and go out of my way to cultivate this relationship but I also understand that some people do not want to be under an obligation to say 'hello' or even idly chit-chat for a couple of moments if you both happen to be in your garden at the same time or step outside the front door simultaneously. However, I do think that a happy medium is preferable, not least because it encourages a safer neighbourhood and, I hope, lowers crime rates.

Gardening Lessons

The gardening plea has gone down well. We are in Yorkshire as part of a trip seeing family and I spent yesterday afternoon learning some gardening techniques in Granny's greenhouse. 42 plugs of yellow geraniums had arrived from an offer in a newspaper and Dad showed me how to gently poke them out of the plugs using a handy pointed device (this happened to be the part of a bird feeder which a bird would stand on, was it in use) and tease them apart, re-planting them safely in individual pots and then watering them. He showed me the way to handle plants, how to feed them, different types of compost. We identified plants in the garden and I was shown how to feed things and how to plant up my hanging baskets. I then looked through the weekend papers and am writing this after going on-line to place my order for 24 free sweet-peas. 

Granny has had a look through her bookcases and has found an encyclopedia of container gardening which I have been reading this afternoon and deciding on potential combinations of plants for different kinds of containers. Sadly it has been raining or no doubt we would have been in the garden as we were yesterday afternoon, sitting on the freshly mown lawn drinking cups of tea and enjoying the sunshine after all our earlier efforts.

Dad produced a box from his car which contained some old tools, some pots, some seeding trays and two containers of food. Granny has found some spare hanging basket compost with water granules already mixed in. Tomorrow we return to M's parents en-route to London where there is some other compost and some small plants which M's mother has  grown from seed for us. I look forward to having a bash myself next weekend at planting up some of the baskets and tubs.

Image from New Zealand Garden Stuff

Free-cycle & 'make-do-and-mend' ideals

The basic concept of free-cycle is simple: to "recycle" items no longer needed, rather than throw them away. The only rule is that things have to be offered free. Free-cycle ettiquette suggests that you should give and take in equal amounts but I cannot imagine that anyone really monitors this.

When we moved into our flat last year we were so pleased to find somewhere we liked and we could 'afford' in an area we liked with a reasonable journey to work that we did not stop and realise that it also has a few irritating flaws. A hard to air bathroom. Windows sealed shut. No storage space. A little persistance on the free-cycle boards followed and we were soon the proud new owners of two chest of drawers. A plea in relation to a suitcase meant that I soon was heading round to a neighbouring flat to pick up one they no longer wanted. It has a squashed wheel but it is still a functioning suitcase, which I did not have to pay for, and which did not end up in landfill.

It therefore seemed sensible to see whether anyone wanted our unwanted things. I posted two lists of possessions which ranged from "bag of assorted mens clothes" to handbags, glasses case, a free flatpacked beach ball still in it's wrapping to an extra edition of Vogue which I was sent in error. Almost immediately responses came flooding in. Someone wanted the un-used LA Fitness water bottle, someone else the LK Bennett flipflops. Within 24 hours I had takers for all of the things I listed. Some have clearly gone to private individuals. One man has said he will take everything that I have left - although it disturbs me that he might be selling it on - at least he is taking it off my hands (and if I was really that bothered about selling it I should have done so myself).

Yesterday I posted a plea for unwanted hanging baskets for the garden. I have experimented with soil in tubs on the back step but pretty soon after filling them they were dug up by something. Today I received an offer of three plus wall brackets. I am hoping to work out where and how to hang the baskets and hopefully by the summer we should have either some flowers or some baskets of salad. Yesterday I spent the evening planting basil seeds and giving them plastic hats, lining them up on the kitchen window sill where I hope they will start germinating. I am also planning a box of some kind of flowers on the outside of the window sill. But I am determined not to spend any money on this exercise. I have asked my parents and grandparents for old or spare gardening equipment and pots. I am re-using the soil/compost from last years tomato grow bag and I may, if I am blessed with the right equipment, dig up the compost bin and use the bottom layers in with the soil. I think I may have to buy some plant food, but I have requested cuttings from my family and any old seeds they do not want or have not yet got round to using. In short, I am returning to make-do-and-mend principles as well as hoping to reduce the food miles of our diets. (I am also hoping to save myself a bit of money)

I have also posted on free-cycle asking if anyone has an old sewing machine they no longer need. No-one has responded so far but I am determined to acquire one from somewhere as I would like to start making a few summer clothes and household embellishments.

De-cluttering

Have spent some of the past few weeks de-cluttering the house and have spent tonight listing a few of the brand new unwanted things on e-bay, trading in some old mobile telephone and then offering the rest on free-cycle. I wonder which one will be the most effective way of getting rid of things and which ones will go the quickest. Supposedly one person's rubbish is another's treasure and I have in the past derived a lot of pleasure from charity shop and jumble sale shopping. My best find was an old-fashioned glass cake stand which I serve cakes on for birthdays and tea parties.

This week the 'credit crunch' has rather started to hit home. In my annual review I asked for a pay rise which was refused so although my wages remain the same, all interest rates have increased, council tax has increased, gas and electricity prices have increased and it is more expensive to shop than it has been. So, I have to make my money go even further and it is at this point that I realise that I am fortunate to not have any children or a mortgage. Times must be hard as I have even counted out and bagged our copper collection ready to take to the bank tomorrow.

Of course, times like this are where the saying 'spend less or earn more' really matters. It is clearly not feasible to have another job (unless I could find some local babysitting, which is something I might try) so it will have to be spend less. Clearly there are a few places that costs can be cut (less drinking, fewer taxis) but these are getting less and less. Most of my expenses are now essential and it is starting to worry me.

UPDATE: I cannot believe how quickly things go on free cycle - within 2 hours of listing 14 items only 4 remain unallocated.

MeMe

Thanks to Rachel for her tag. She asks me to list six random things about me and then tag six others. If you're really interested in random things about me there are seven more here.



1. I lived in California from 1988 to 1990 which meant I was there for the earthquake of 1989 and I also managed to experience the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtle (or whatever they were called) phenomenon twice. Once in the US and then once back in England.

2. For the 2 years I lived in America I had an American accent. No-one would believe I was English. Now, there is no doubting my nationality.

3. My comfort food is peanut butter and marmite on toast.

4. I am embracing WI cliches and am going on a jam making day in June (which I am really looking forward to, especially as the chutney went down so well at Christmas)

5. I discovered the Apprentice this series having refused to watch it before. I have actually enjoyed watching it although I cannot believe that some people lie despite knowing that they are being filmed.

6. I re-read my favourite books over and over again. (I won't elaborate more as I have a post in the making regarding this)

And now I tag: Echo/Suzi, James at the Ink, Upside Down Annie, Legally Blonde, and any one else who wants to be tagged please make themselves known in the comments box.

No sympathy for striking

Any sympathy I had for teachers has waned rapidly this week.

I am not a teacher but I come from a family of teachers. My Grandfather taught at a private school and my Grandmother at a prep school. Their son is an English teacher at a state secondary and their daughter at a Montessori school. Her husband was a teacher at a state secondary and is now a driving instructor. My mother didn't go into to teaching. My three closest female friends from university are now teachers; one at a state school in London, one at a private school in Suffolk and the third at a state primary in Cambridge. Other friends from school are teaching in a variety of state primary and secondary schools around the country. Not one has left because they don't get paid enough.

Of all these people, the only one whose salary I know is my friend who teaches in London. She earns £8,000 more than me a year despite us both having degrees from the same university and holding post graduate qualifications in our chosen fields. The others all must earn more than me by at least £3,000 as the starting salary for teachers is £20,133.

My friend who is a London teacher works hard. She is in school by 7.45 every morning and she leaves between 3 and 5pm depending on activities. She does marking and planning at the evenings and some weekends although she manages an active social life as well. She benefits from 2 weeks off at Christmas, 2 at Easter, 3 for half-terms and 6 weeks in the summer. She is using some of her summer holiday to take some children abroad to work on a community project but in return she does not have to pay for her trip. She works during the holidays but she is able to take marking down to Cornwall or away to her parents. She can work outside in the sunshine or can stay up all night working in her pajamas if she chooses. She also benefits from a pension and she had a grant to pay for her postgraduate certificate. I believe she receives some kind of financial payout after she has been working for a few years. Her job is stressful and she must deal with teenagers and their problems each day she is in school. I have no doubt that she works hard.

In comparison I earn the minimum salary for a trainee solicitor in London. I am expected to be in my office 5 days a week and I am frequently still at my desk until 8pm. It is unusual for me to leave before 7pm. I do not think my hours are excessive as I know other trainees who work longer hours still (I quote from someone on their time at Linklaters: "The hours were, frankly, quite ridiculous. I’d be in the office after midnight — often much later — at least two days a week. Even on a quiet day I wouldn’t finish before eight. Having a life became virtually impossible. There was a kind of implied understanding that you’d drop everything if something came up at work. And things were constantly coming up. One of my colleagues actually had to cancel her 30th birthday party a few hours before it was scheduled to start after being drafted onto a deal.") At present I am not required to work weekends although once I change work loads I could well expect to. I know people who work all weekend, including my boss. I have 20 days holiday a year plus bank holidays. I had to open my own pension scheme and pay my own way through my post graduate certificate. The repayments of that loan alone come to almost £500 a month from my salary.

My point is thus: teachers work hard but so does everyone else. I do not believe a teacher's job to be more stressful than any other professional job. Everyone is facing the same financial impact of rising prices, rising taxes and falling houseprices. Teachers are well remunerated for their work and they receive benefits in addition which includes holidays and pensions. They claim that there is unnecessary paper work and regulations in teaching but that is not limited to their profession. In my work complying with money laundering regulations for example take up a disproportionate time allocation. I therefore have no sympathy with their so-called plight and I fundamentally disagree that selfish striking which inconveniences other people, not least letting down the children in their charge, should have any kind of effect. I see striking in line with bullying and I do not think that it is an appropriate message to be sending to children. They are effectively saying that if someone does not agree with you it is reasonable to refuse to participate in the discussion in order to make them listen to your point of view. It is childish.

Re-union

Met up last night with a group of people that I used to sail with as a teenager, on national CCF courses at HMS Raleigh & HMS Bristol. We first met aged 14 and 15 and subsequently met up every summer and occasionally at other times of the year each year until we were 18 and left school. We stayed sporadically in written contact throughout university and the remaining years until last night when we finally managed to find a weekend where most of the group was free.

We had a great evening even if the two boats we went to for drinks and dancing would have been viewed sceptically in any other circumstances but were chosen merely for our nautical theme. To be honest apart from the occasional rocking when we were caught in the wash of a passing boat it mattered not a jot where we were. Meeting people again 8 years later is a strange mix of feeling that you know each other well yet at the same time you don't really know each other at all. It was though an enjoyable evening, and pleasing that despite the years of not seeing each other the dynamics were as if it were simply another CCF event only with more drinking and no-one dictating what we should do and how we should be doing it.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn

An article in the Times today imparts the sad news that John Betjeman's muse, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn died last Friday aged 92. I know that I have written about both Betjeman and this poem before, but as it is the end of their era here it is again.

A Subaltern's Love Song

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father's euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing's the light on your hair.

By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

-- John Betjeman

Communication

I have written before about my problems with Orange and British Gas. Yesterday I encountered some (minor) problems with EDF energy. After some discussion with customer services I hope that they are now sorted, but given that I thought that about British Gas and it took another six months to rectify the problem, I am not holding my breath. I therefore felt for Rachel when I read about her problems regarding her kitchen and judging from her comments box she is not alone.

It seems to me that one of the errors that these companies are making is in a lack of communication. Perhaps in an effort to cut costs or perhaps because they just don't think about it, they fail to communicate accurately and mistakes get repeated ad infinitum. I was expounding this theory to M when we sat down to watch the Apprentice last night whilst eating our supper. Now, I hope that all of those candidates have secure jobs to return to in the event they don't win because quite frankly I would be unwilling to employ any of them based on their performances on the show (which I am aware is edited and produced). As far as I could tell, the candidates basic problem seems to be that they are so obsessed with 'winning' and doing each other down that they seem unable to get on with the task in hand, even going so far as to sabotage their team performance in the hope of getting each other fired. The other main problem seems to come back to communication, or lack of it. Yesterday's show involved taking photographs of people and then selling them said photographs. Hardly a difficult task I would have thought seeing as there seemed to be people queuing up to be snapped. Both teams problems lay in their in-ability to produce the photographs. No-one had designed a fail safe system of recording whose photos were which; instead of helping each other with technical failures there was simply shouting and there seemed to be no communication whatsoever between the front and back line teams.

In short it was a complete shambles and the winning team made less than £200 profit. The losing team made a loss. I am sure that if both teams had focused on getting their job done rather than the fact that one of them would lose their job they would have all turned a far higher profit. Incidentally, if I had been managing either of those teams, I would have ensured that as manager I was the link between the two teams and would have moved people as and when it became clear that there were difficulties, i.e. when production had ground to a halt.

Love Is...

Followed a link from a link from a link. And found this poem.

Love Is...

Love is...
Love is feeling cold in the back of vans
Love is a fanclub with only two fans
Love is walking holding paintstained hands
Love is.

Love is fish and chips on winter nights
Love is blankets full of strange delights
Love is when you don't put out the light
Love is

Love is the presents in Christmas shops
Love is when you're feeling Top of the Pops
Love is what happens when the music stops
Love is

Love is white panties lying all forlorn
Love is pink nightdresses still slightly warm
Love is when you have to leave at dawn
Love is

Love is you and love is me
Love is a prison and love is free
Love's what's there when you are away from me
Love is...

Adrian Henri

Ken v Boris

Still undecided about who you should vote for on 1 May 2008? Have a look at this helpful website and actually think about your opinion on some of the issues.

Small World Syndrome example 3

Supper last night with a good friend. Whilst standing in the kitchen, drinking wine and eating chilli prawns which M made as a starter I told them both the story of BestFriend's flatmate being the ex-boyfriend of a school friend. What I didn't expect was a further link. "You know Suitor*", my friend asked, "well, he and BestFriend went for a drink and it turns out that Suitor works with BestFriend's flatmate".


*Suitor is a school friend of the person who came over for supper. Suitor did once rather like BestFriend.