Well now, according to the papers today there are suggestions that prisoners should receive benefits. Ahem, benefits are meant to ensure no-one is homeless and starving. Prisoners don't have expenses. They are provided with bed, board and health services. They also get entertainment, clothing and education - if they want it. What, exactly, do they need further income for?
It seems it's to do with the Human Rights Act. Here we go again! Surely, by breaking the law, they have forfeited all rights apart from the humanitarian rights to be fed, watered, housed and not physically or mentally abused in any way? Anything more than this should be considered a bonus, not a right, and only if the law-abiding population paying for their incarceration can afford more...and that's a big 'if' these days.
No, I say squash this proposal right away.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Tahrir Square
Relief! My friend arrived back in Cairo on Friday to the news that Mubarak had stepped down. Her son had been in Tahrir Square that day and reported the most incredible atmosphere. He took her to the square today to experience it for herself and I've received a photograph of her in front of an army tank. I've learned that her son had patrolled with his cousins, defending homes, water pumps and electricity supplies, at one stage they had to chase off an escaped prisoner. I'm immensely proud of him but I'm very glad he did't let me know at the time, I'd have worried even more than I did.
The work now is to re-establish normal life and the Egyptian people have taken the first practical step of cleaning and repairing Tahrir Square. Next comes the cleaning and repairing of their society and I wish them every success in their work.
The work now is to re-establish normal life and the Egyptian people have taken the first practical step of cleaning and repairing Tahrir Square. Next comes the cleaning and repairing of their society and I wish them every success in their work.
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Egypt
I’ve been watching the Egyptian situation with a personal interest. I was in Alexandria for 10 days last spring, staying with an old school friend and her Egyptian husband and son. My friend flew back to the UK for a brief, long-planned visit with her parents the day before Cairo airport closed. Had she known events would escalate as they have she would have stayed there. She’s now worried about whether she will be able to return as planned.
Her husband and son had driven from Alexandria to Cairo, skirting the problem areas, to take her to the airport on their way to her husband’s village outside Cairo where they have a house and numerous relatives. The internet has been down, even if they had had access in the village, and SMS messaging has been virtually non-existant. I’ve managed to speak to both her husband and son over the last few days on the mobile phone and they assure me they are safe and well but here we have all been worrying about what will happen next. Now, tonight, I watch the mounting violence on the news with horror.
The point is, for me, we learn about this sort of thing in the news all the time; somewhere in the world someone is living in fear of their life. We watch events unfold and decry the waste of life, the devastating effects on society; feel for the people involved and hope that everything works out in the end. Then something happens in a place we’ve been to and to people we know and care about. The shock, fear, sympathy we thought we’ve felt in the past pales beside the horror of realising it’s now personal.
I first went to Egypt 30 odd years ago when my friend first married, then again last year. Everyone I met on both occasions was kind, interested, proud of their country and eager to make sure I felt welcome. Egypt changed a lot in the 30 years between my visits, more western-style shops and malls, fewer markets for example – better toilets! What hadn’t changed was the good-hearted interest towards a visitor.
I shudder now to think of the good people I met, in the midst of all this terror. I hope to go back to Egypt later this year and I hope this trouble will be behind them. Do I care about the Egyptian people as a whole? Yes, but I confess to a greater concern for those individuals I know, and pray they are all there and safe when I return.
Her husband and son had driven from Alexandria to Cairo, skirting the problem areas, to take her to the airport on their way to her husband’s village outside Cairo where they have a house and numerous relatives. The internet has been down, even if they had had access in the village, and SMS messaging has been virtually non-existant. I’ve managed to speak to both her husband and son over the last few days on the mobile phone and they assure me they are safe and well but here we have all been worrying about what will happen next. Now, tonight, I watch the mounting violence on the news with horror.
The point is, for me, we learn about this sort of thing in the news all the time; somewhere in the world someone is living in fear of their life. We watch events unfold and decry the waste of life, the devastating effects on society; feel for the people involved and hope that everything works out in the end. Then something happens in a place we’ve been to and to people we know and care about. The shock, fear, sympathy we thought we’ve felt in the past pales beside the horror of realising it’s now personal.
I first went to Egypt 30 odd years ago when my friend first married, then again last year. Everyone I met on both occasions was kind, interested, proud of their country and eager to make sure I felt welcome. Egypt changed a lot in the 30 years between my visits, more western-style shops and malls, fewer markets for example – better toilets! What hadn’t changed was the good-hearted interest towards a visitor.
I shudder now to think of the good people I met, in the midst of all this terror. I hope to go back to Egypt later this year and I hope this trouble will be behind them. Do I care about the Egyptian people as a whole? Yes, but I confess to a greater concern for those individuals I know, and pray they are all there and safe when I return.
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Laws for some but not for others
I overheard a heated discussion recently about Halal meat and how it is allowed in the UK despite contravening laws regarding the slaughter of animals.
The core of the discussion was whether Halal meat was humane or not. It seems (according the the protagonists) the law states animals must be humanely stunned before they are bled to death. Halal meat must come from animals that are not stunned before they are bled to death. Well, I don't know enough about slaughtering to have a definite view on the subject of Halal meat other than to acknowledge we need meat therefore animals have to be slaughtered and they should be slaughtered in a way to cause least distress. Also, I don't know enough about the law to know if the situation is as stated although I do know it is widely believed, rightly or wrongly. However, I do have definite views about the fairness and compliance of laws. In this example...
If the law is a good law and it is inhumane to kill an animal without stunning it first then it should apply to everyone. The fact that Halal meat is a religious requirement wouldn't make it any less inhumane. On the other hand, if it a bad law and stunning is no more humane than the Halal method, then the law needs to be repealed as pointless and not fit for purpose. However, having a law for humane reasons and allowing some people to be exempt is unfair, divisive and morally wrong.
It's about time those in a position to do so, and with the knowledge to make a balanced judgement should find out the true situation once and for all. Then either repeal the law or enforce it for everyone depending on the outcome. Breaking the law, whatever the law and whatever the reasons, is not acceptable. Bad laws need to be ended; good laws need to be enforced - FOR ALL.
The core of the discussion was whether Halal meat was humane or not. It seems (according the the protagonists) the law states animals must be humanely stunned before they are bled to death. Halal meat must come from animals that are not stunned before they are bled to death. Well, I don't know enough about slaughtering to have a definite view on the subject of Halal meat other than to acknowledge we need meat therefore animals have to be slaughtered and they should be slaughtered in a way to cause least distress. Also, I don't know enough about the law to know if the situation is as stated although I do know it is widely believed, rightly or wrongly. However, I do have definite views about the fairness and compliance of laws. In this example...
If the law is a good law and it is inhumane to kill an animal without stunning it first then it should apply to everyone. The fact that Halal meat is a religious requirement wouldn't make it any less inhumane. On the other hand, if it a bad law and stunning is no more humane than the Halal method, then the law needs to be repealed as pointless and not fit for purpose. However, having a law for humane reasons and allowing some people to be exempt is unfair, divisive and morally wrong.
It's about time those in a position to do so, and with the knowledge to make a balanced judgement should find out the true situation once and for all. Then either repeal the law or enforce it for everyone depending on the outcome. Breaking the law, whatever the law and whatever the reasons, is not acceptable. Bad laws need to be ended; good laws need to be enforced - FOR ALL.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Accident prone?...who?...me?
2010 was a record year for me. I’ve always been accident prone. I started a long history of being accident prone at a very young age when my mother heard a scream from the garden and rushed out to find me hanging by my knicker elastic from the apple tree – they really knew how to make knicker elastic in those days!
Since then I’ve gained two scars on my brow line by running into a worktop as a toddler, and standing on a chair to reach the doorknob to open a door – the door opened inwards!; ridden my bike into hedges, roller-skated into walls and fallen off horses; fused the whole security system at my first job at the push of a button; broken my kneecap by getting my right foot caught behind my left foot walking up the garden path; and so it went on. My first real boyfriend, on hearing I couldn’t go to the party that weekend, immediately asked ‘what have you done now?’ – we’d only been going out for a month!
Last year however, was a record-breaker for falls. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ill, there’s no medical problem - I've been checked out and it's official, I’m just accident prone, careless, daft! Ok, two were a little odd but nothing to worry about, the rest were just down to stupidity.
The first was at the beginning of the year, one of the odd ones. I’d been looking for something on a top shelf at work, turned round and my legs just gave way, I slumped onto my knees then onto all fours and felt pretty stupid grovelling on the floor in the middle of the office.
The second was in April. I went to Alexandria, Egypt to stay with friends and slipped on a wet floor in the middle of a busy market landing flat on my back. So humiliating in a foreign country but especially in one that puts a premium on modesty and decorum for women – thank God I was wearing trousers.
The third came within a week of getting back from Egypt. I’d got on the scales, always a nerve-wracking experience, and tripped up the step in the bathroom putting them back in place. I fell on the scales gouging one corner into my shin (I still have the mark), banged my head on the sink and ricked my neck, whacked my arm and shoulder on the bidet and badly skinned a knee.
The fourth was the second odd one. I felt even more stupid as I came down the steps from the bank and sank on all fours in the high street for no reason. I must have looked drunk because no-one stopped to help me.
The fifth was a comedy routine. I was helping a friend with her raised vegetable beds. I tripped on a board, staggered off-balance over the bed, down the other side, tripped again on the next raised area and landed spread-eagled, face down in well-manured soil.
The sixth was again at work. As I got up from my desk one foot caught the drawer, pulling it open, that blocked the other foot and momentum sent me headfirst over the drawer, bashing my head and twisting my neck on a rail on my way down to a shelf where I wrenched by shoulder before ending up on the floor in the middle of the office – again!
The seventh was in the week leading up to Christmas. Following more than one mishap in the bathroom we decided to remove the step and replace the suite. The old bath had been removed and was in the drive, part-filled with rubble and a hefty topping of snow waiting for the job to be finished and a skip to be hired. I was clearing the snow off the roof of my car with a broom, forgot the bath was there, knocked into it and landed face-down in the bath bruising shins and arms, and again jerking my back and neck.
So that was 2010. Seven falls in 12 months. Thank goodness that year was over, 2011 has started and is bound to be a better one. Hah!
On New Year’s day I backed away from the sink to allow my brother room to drain the boiling water from some vegetables. Caught the back of my legs on the dishwasher door that I’d carelessly left open, fell backwards over the door smashing my legs and lower back on the door and landing on my shoulders and head on the concrete floor with an almighty crack– at least, it sounded like an almighty crack from the inside! So there I was, stunned, one leg still propped up on the dishwasher waiting for the pain to subside. My brother said he didn’t mean to be callous or anything but he’d got these boiling pans and dinner to deal with but if I wanted some help getting up, let him know – which made my father hide his face to keep from showing he was laughing when he heard! Bless them both!
So now I’m looking for a clothes designer who specialises in bubble wrap and cotton wool…
Since then I’ve gained two scars on my brow line by running into a worktop as a toddler, and standing on a chair to reach the doorknob to open a door – the door opened inwards!; ridden my bike into hedges, roller-skated into walls and fallen off horses; fused the whole security system at my first job at the push of a button; broken my kneecap by getting my right foot caught behind my left foot walking up the garden path; and so it went on. My first real boyfriend, on hearing I couldn’t go to the party that weekend, immediately asked ‘what have you done now?’ – we’d only been going out for a month!
Last year however, was a record-breaker for falls. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ill, there’s no medical problem - I've been checked out and it's official, I’m just accident prone, careless, daft! Ok, two were a little odd but nothing to worry about, the rest were just down to stupidity.
The first was at the beginning of the year, one of the odd ones. I’d been looking for something on a top shelf at work, turned round and my legs just gave way, I slumped onto my knees then onto all fours and felt pretty stupid grovelling on the floor in the middle of the office.
The second was in April. I went to Alexandria, Egypt to stay with friends and slipped on a wet floor in the middle of a busy market landing flat on my back. So humiliating in a foreign country but especially in one that puts a premium on modesty and decorum for women – thank God I was wearing trousers.
The third came within a week of getting back from Egypt. I’d got on the scales, always a nerve-wracking experience, and tripped up the step in the bathroom putting them back in place. I fell on the scales gouging one corner into my shin (I still have the mark), banged my head on the sink and ricked my neck, whacked my arm and shoulder on the bidet and badly skinned a knee.
The fourth was the second odd one. I felt even more stupid as I came down the steps from the bank and sank on all fours in the high street for no reason. I must have looked drunk because no-one stopped to help me.
The fifth was a comedy routine. I was helping a friend with her raised vegetable beds. I tripped on a board, staggered off-balance over the bed, down the other side, tripped again on the next raised area and landed spread-eagled, face down in well-manured soil.
The sixth was again at work. As I got up from my desk one foot caught the drawer, pulling it open, that blocked the other foot and momentum sent me headfirst over the drawer, bashing my head and twisting my neck on a rail on my way down to a shelf where I wrenched by shoulder before ending up on the floor in the middle of the office – again!
The seventh was in the week leading up to Christmas. Following more than one mishap in the bathroom we decided to remove the step and replace the suite. The old bath had been removed and was in the drive, part-filled with rubble and a hefty topping of snow waiting for the job to be finished and a skip to be hired. I was clearing the snow off the roof of my car with a broom, forgot the bath was there, knocked into it and landed face-down in the bath bruising shins and arms, and again jerking my back and neck.
So that was 2010. Seven falls in 12 months. Thank goodness that year was over, 2011 has started and is bound to be a better one. Hah!
On New Year’s day I backed away from the sink to allow my brother room to drain the boiling water from some vegetables. Caught the back of my legs on the dishwasher door that I’d carelessly left open, fell backwards over the door smashing my legs and lower back on the door and landing on my shoulders and head on the concrete floor with an almighty crack– at least, it sounded like an almighty crack from the inside! So there I was, stunned, one leg still propped up on the dishwasher waiting for the pain to subside. My brother said he didn’t mean to be callous or anything but he’d got these boiling pans and dinner to deal with but if I wanted some help getting up, let him know – which made my father hide his face to keep from showing he was laughing when he heard! Bless them both!
So now I’m looking for a clothes designer who specialises in bubble wrap and cotton wool…
Monday, 27 December 2010
Creating good memories
Life is good!
Over the past few years our family has had 'interesting times' at Christmas. Variously a cancer diagnosis, fallout from a heart valve replacement, a broken neck etc, with one or the other of my parents in hospital just before the holidays, once even coming out of hospital unexpectedly - and thankfully - on Christmas Eve evening. This year we've broken the hospital tradition. Oh, we haven't escaped completely unscathed, my brother developed shingles in one eye a couple of days before Christmas - and he was the one taking over the Christmas cooking because I'm dangerous round a baking pan of goose fat and saucepans of boiling water because of neck, back and arm problems at the moment! He was an absolute Trojan though, producing a brilliant meal with all the trimmings despite feeling unwell himself. This time I played cook's assistant doing the washing-up and other drudgery as best possible, and heroically keeping my mouth shut (most of the time) when I thought he wasn't doing it right - in other words, the way I would do it!
I can't remember the last time I haven't spent most of Christmas Day in the kitchen. It was a real treat to be able to spend more time with the family, laughing, relaxing, concentrating on keeping the fire stoked and dressing the table. One of my great pleasures is dressing the table because one of my parents' and my grandmother's great pleasures is seeing a well-dressed table. This year I could take my time, I didn't forget anything; the Christmas tablecloth we've had for years, the candlesticks my brother and I bought for our parents many years ago with tall, dark red candles, the little stockings with a chocolate 'wish' in each place setting, the fine cut glass wine goblets that only come out on special occasions. And the tree! I could take my time decorating it, enjoying each bauble as it emerged from storage, showing it to my mother and remembering when we got each one before we put it on the tree; the ones I sent back from my Alaskan trip for my mother, the ones received as a present from a Scandinavian friend, the one my brother made out of the remains of a cracker one year over coffee after the Christmas lunch, the one mum and dad have had since they first got married coming up for sixty years ago. And the miniature tree crackers minus the one I insisted on pulling as a child many years ago because I wanted to see what was in it - I was convinced I was missing out on something and it was the only way mum could prove to me they were only decorations!
To make things easier this year we had decided not to buy lots of presents, we each contributed what we could afford to one present each. Mum got her hearing aids, my grandmother a worktop freezer, my brother a flat screen TV and I'll be getting a greenhouse when the weather sorts itself out enough to erect it. My dad got a subscription to HD TV channels (I think that's it, my brother sorted it because the rest of us are dunces in the world of technology) and time with his family because there was nothing else he wanted. And that was the key!
Yes, there were stockings filled with satsumas, nuts, chocolate Father Christmas, sugar mouse, new flannel, that sort of thing but not presents as such. The key was we were all together, spending time together, laughing together, reminiscing together. We were all doing things we knew the others would like, would give them pleasure and in doing so we were giving ourselves pleasure and making memories for ourselves for the future.
Yesterday we had friends round for a get-together and enjoyed being in the company of people we were comfortable with. Today, the day after Boxing Day, the house is quiet. My dad is sitting in front of the log fire content to look at the frost and snow outside from the comfortable depths of his armchair, mum's in her room taking a nap, my brother's taking some time for himself and I've time to do whatever I want. I'm feeling happy, contented and enjoying the gentle intimacy of family life.
So...life is good!
To everyone reading this blog, I hope you made good future memories for yourselves this Christmas and I wish you a happy New Year.
Over the past few years our family has had 'interesting times' at Christmas. Variously a cancer diagnosis, fallout from a heart valve replacement, a broken neck etc, with one or the other of my parents in hospital just before the holidays, once even coming out of hospital unexpectedly - and thankfully - on Christmas Eve evening. This year we've broken the hospital tradition. Oh, we haven't escaped completely unscathed, my brother developed shingles in one eye a couple of days before Christmas - and he was the one taking over the Christmas cooking because I'm dangerous round a baking pan of goose fat and saucepans of boiling water because of neck, back and arm problems at the moment! He was an absolute Trojan though, producing a brilliant meal with all the trimmings despite feeling unwell himself. This time I played cook's assistant doing the washing-up and other drudgery as best possible, and heroically keeping my mouth shut (most of the time) when I thought he wasn't doing it right - in other words, the way I would do it!
I can't remember the last time I haven't spent most of Christmas Day in the kitchen. It was a real treat to be able to spend more time with the family, laughing, relaxing, concentrating on keeping the fire stoked and dressing the table. One of my great pleasures is dressing the table because one of my parents' and my grandmother's great pleasures is seeing a well-dressed table. This year I could take my time, I didn't forget anything; the Christmas tablecloth we've had for years, the candlesticks my brother and I bought for our parents many years ago with tall, dark red candles, the little stockings with a chocolate 'wish' in each place setting, the fine cut glass wine goblets that only come out on special occasions. And the tree! I could take my time decorating it, enjoying each bauble as it emerged from storage, showing it to my mother and remembering when we got each one before we put it on the tree; the ones I sent back from my Alaskan trip for my mother, the ones received as a present from a Scandinavian friend, the one my brother made out of the remains of a cracker one year over coffee after the Christmas lunch, the one mum and dad have had since they first got married coming up for sixty years ago. And the miniature tree crackers minus the one I insisted on pulling as a child many years ago because I wanted to see what was in it - I was convinced I was missing out on something and it was the only way mum could prove to me they were only decorations!
To make things easier this year we had decided not to buy lots of presents, we each contributed what we could afford to one present each. Mum got her hearing aids, my grandmother a worktop freezer, my brother a flat screen TV and I'll be getting a greenhouse when the weather sorts itself out enough to erect it. My dad got a subscription to HD TV channels (I think that's it, my brother sorted it because the rest of us are dunces in the world of technology) and time with his family because there was nothing else he wanted. And that was the key!
Yes, there were stockings filled with satsumas, nuts, chocolate Father Christmas, sugar mouse, new flannel, that sort of thing but not presents as such. The key was we were all together, spending time together, laughing together, reminiscing together. We were all doing things we knew the others would like, would give them pleasure and in doing so we were giving ourselves pleasure and making memories for ourselves for the future.
Yesterday we had friends round for a get-together and enjoyed being in the company of people we were comfortable with. Today, the day after Boxing Day, the house is quiet. My dad is sitting in front of the log fire content to look at the frost and snow outside from the comfortable depths of his armchair, mum's in her room taking a nap, my brother's taking some time for himself and I've time to do whatever I want. I'm feeling happy, contented and enjoying the gentle intimacy of family life.
So...life is good!
To everyone reading this blog, I hope you made good future memories for yourselves this Christmas and I wish you a happy New Year.
Saturday, 30 October 2010
What is right and what is not
I've been hearing about a new film involving owls. Some people have been getting steamed up about it because children are asking their parents for an owl as a pet and they are simply not suitable as pets. They feel the film is irresponsible.
Why are they directing their ire towards the film-makers? Children want things, it's natural. They want sweeties, they want to go out in the snow in their pyjamas, they want to poke their fingers into electric sockets to see what happens. Just because they want things is no reason why parents should agree to them. The parents' role in these situations is to teach children which of their demands are reasonable and which are not.
Children have been told stories and fairytales down the years. They entertain and teach. They make childhood a wondrous joy, but we grow up. We learn what is real and what is fantasy, what is acceptable and what is not, first from restrictions imposed by our parents and later from our own experiences. Parental restrictions should impose a morality that ensures our later experiences do not come at the expense of others.
No, as I see it, the blame for any craze of keeping owls as pets lies at the feet of the parents, not the storytellers.
Why are they directing their ire towards the film-makers? Children want things, it's natural. They want sweeties, they want to go out in the snow in their pyjamas, they want to poke their fingers into electric sockets to see what happens. Just because they want things is no reason why parents should agree to them. The parents' role in these situations is to teach children which of their demands are reasonable and which are not.
Children have been told stories and fairytales down the years. They entertain and teach. They make childhood a wondrous joy, but we grow up. We learn what is real and what is fantasy, what is acceptable and what is not, first from restrictions imposed by our parents and later from our own experiences. Parental restrictions should impose a morality that ensures our later experiences do not come at the expense of others.
No, as I see it, the blame for any craze of keeping owls as pets lies at the feet of the parents, not the storytellers.
Friday, 22 October 2010
Unreasonable benefits
I'm getting very frustrated with the media and people in general. There are plenty of complaints about the Spending Review, about how unfair it all is, but how many complainants come up with alternative suggestions? Mostly it's the media; if the government jumps one way the media automatically seem to jump the other. I know it's about selling papers but what about responsible reporting? They can sway public opinion so they should make sure they're not simply rabble-rousing for the sake of profits.
The comment that finally tipped me into writing this post was about how the measures are not fair to poorer parents with large families.
Has it been fair that any single woman who wanted children - but didn't have them because she cared enough not to want them to grow up without a father - should have to fund single mothers who had children for the sole purpose of obtaining benefits. (Yes I have met at least one who did just that and know of others).
Has it been fair that any single or couple who wanted a large family - but couldn't afford and it restricted their family - should have to fund others who have chidren willy nilly?
Yes, bringing up children is costly and hard work and I've no objection to taxes going towards schooling, school clothing, school meals, health etc. Children are essential to our society's future (as well as being - mostly - a joy) and should be everyone's responsibility, but only up to a point. Paying for others to stay at home while the rest of us work to pay to raise their offspring is taking it too far.
It's only fair that long-suffering tax-payers should stop seeing their money being frittered away unfairly by those who do not want to work.
The comment that finally tipped me into writing this post was about how the measures are not fair to poorer parents with large families.
Has it been fair that any single woman who wanted children - but didn't have them because she cared enough not to want them to grow up without a father - should have to fund single mothers who had children for the sole purpose of obtaining benefits. (Yes I have met at least one who did just that and know of others).
Has it been fair that any single or couple who wanted a large family - but couldn't afford and it restricted their family - should have to fund others who have chidren willy nilly?
Yes, bringing up children is costly and hard work and I've no objection to taxes going towards schooling, school clothing, school meals, health etc. Children are essential to our society's future (as well as being - mostly - a joy) and should be everyone's responsibility, but only up to a point. Paying for others to stay at home while the rest of us work to pay to raise their offspring is taking it too far.
It's only fair that long-suffering tax-payers should stop seeing their money being frittered away unfairly by those who do not want to work.
Monday, 20 September 2010
Sick leave
A new system has been introduced by the government to reduce the number of people receiving ill-health benefits. One of those is the switch from a doctor's 'sick note' to a 'fit to work' note. The old system was rather black and white, you were either at your job or not. The new system allows for shades of grey.
This is my first time on the new system and so far I approve.
After two weeks uninterrupted sick leave to see if rest will resolve the matter, I'm climbing the walls with boredom. The pain in my arm and shoulder mean I can't do anything for very long whether it's sitting, walking, standing, computer work etc - this post has been written in installments.
On the old system I couldn't have worked at all. My employers' insurance wouldn't have covered me for being at work. On the new system I can go in for amended duties for however long as I can manage. So I keep up to date at work, I manage to help my colleagues at least a little bit and it stops me festering at home until the probelm is sorted. I'm not sure how it works from the employers side since it must make it a little complicated claiming back the statutary sick pay from the government. No doubts the kinks will be worked out as the scheme progresses.
All in all I view it as an improvement.
This is my first time on the new system and so far I approve.
After two weeks uninterrupted sick leave to see if rest will resolve the matter, I'm climbing the walls with boredom. The pain in my arm and shoulder mean I can't do anything for very long whether it's sitting, walking, standing, computer work etc - this post has been written in installments.
On the old system I couldn't have worked at all. My employers' insurance wouldn't have covered me for being at work. On the new system I can go in for amended duties for however long as I can manage. So I keep up to date at work, I manage to help my colleagues at least a little bit and it stops me festering at home until the probelm is sorted. I'm not sure how it works from the employers side since it must make it a little complicated claiming back the statutary sick pay from the government. No doubts the kinks will be worked out as the scheme progresses.
All in all I view it as an improvement.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Differences
I follow a blog that had been quiet for a few weeks and I was a little worried that either something horrible had happened to the blogger or my last comment had offended. Finally I received an automatic email to say my comment had been published. ‘Oh, good’, I thought, he’s ok and back in harness. I enjoy his posts, most of them, some of them go over my head or are outside my areas of interest but he has a sense of humour and turn of phrase that appeal to me so I immediately went to his blog to see if there were any new posts. There were, and part way down I’d been mentioned. At first I felt the thrill of a child being noticed, then of a child being told she’d done well, finally my usual insecurity took over; was he poking fun at me?
“‘Malmesbury’, you constantly enrich my blog with your visits. I’m humbled by your astute observations.”
It was the ‘astute’ and ‘humbled’ that rang alarm bells. I may be many things but I’m pretty sure my friends wouldn’t recognize ‘astute’ as one of them. I checked my dictionary for ‘astute’, just in case, and it gave me…
‘of keen penetration or discernment; sagacious: an astute analysis.’
… nope, definitely not sounding like me!
And ‘humbled’ seemed way over the top.
I had another look at my comment and it seemed innocuous enough but I figured I must be missing something.
Two possibilities then; either a compliment or he was having a dig. Since I preferred the compliment option, naturally, I had a think about that first and remembered an episode during my trip round Western Canada and Alaska.
An American tourist cornered me in an elevator shortly after I arrived, grabbed my hand, shook it vigorously and thanked me for helping them in Iraq. I was completely non-plussed…obviously I wasn’t helping in Iraq, I was on holiday in North America!...I smiled inanely, completely at a loss for words. His father had said the British wouldn’t help but he knew we would; the US had volunteered to help us during World War II so he was sure we’d help them now by way of thanks. Skipping over the ‘volunteered’ bit in the interests of diplomacy, I retrieved my hand and scuttled out of the lift as soon as possible. In many ways I am the typical reserved English-woman and I simply wasn’t prepared for this effusiveness. In the three months I was travelling I unwound quite a lot, meeting and getting to know some truly lovely people and learning to enjoy our differences; perhaps I’ve now fallen back into my old ways and should just accept the comment at face value?
On the other hand, perhaps he was having a dig? It’s certainly not unknown for me to be a tad pompous or miss the point of something completely. So if he was having a dig…? So what? His opinions and the robust way he expresses himself are what makes him an enjoyable read. It would be a pretty poor show if I wasn’t willing to be on the receiving end with good grace.
No, all in all, it doesn’t matter one way or the other and I shall continue to follow his blog with enjoyment.
Oh, and on the subject of not blogging for a while, sorry - poorly arm - just typing the above with one hand took ages…very boring waiting for the hand to catch up with the brain!
“‘Malmesbury’, you constantly enrich my blog with your visits. I’m humbled by your astute observations.”
It was the ‘astute’ and ‘humbled’ that rang alarm bells. I may be many things but I’m pretty sure my friends wouldn’t recognize ‘astute’ as one of them. I checked my dictionary for ‘astute’, just in case, and it gave me…
‘of keen penetration or discernment; sagacious: an astute analysis.’
… nope, definitely not sounding like me!
And ‘humbled’ seemed way over the top.
I had another look at my comment and it seemed innocuous enough but I figured I must be missing something.
Two possibilities then; either a compliment or he was having a dig. Since I preferred the compliment option, naturally, I had a think about that first and remembered an episode during my trip round Western Canada and Alaska.
An American tourist cornered me in an elevator shortly after I arrived, grabbed my hand, shook it vigorously and thanked me for helping them in Iraq. I was completely non-plussed…obviously I wasn’t helping in Iraq, I was on holiday in North America!...I smiled inanely, completely at a loss for words. His father had said the British wouldn’t help but he knew we would; the US had volunteered to help us during World War II so he was sure we’d help them now by way of thanks. Skipping over the ‘volunteered’ bit in the interests of diplomacy, I retrieved my hand and scuttled out of the lift as soon as possible. In many ways I am the typical reserved English-woman and I simply wasn’t prepared for this effusiveness. In the three months I was travelling I unwound quite a lot, meeting and getting to know some truly lovely people and learning to enjoy our differences; perhaps I’ve now fallen back into my old ways and should just accept the comment at face value?
On the other hand, perhaps he was having a dig? It’s certainly not unknown for me to be a tad pompous or miss the point of something completely. So if he was having a dig…? So what? His opinions and the robust way he expresses himself are what makes him an enjoyable read. It would be a pretty poor show if I wasn’t willing to be on the receiving end with good grace.
No, all in all, it doesn’t matter one way or the other and I shall continue to follow his blog with enjoyment.
Oh, and on the subject of not blogging for a while, sorry - poorly arm - just typing the above with one hand took ages…very boring waiting for the hand to catch up with the brain!
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