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Showing posts with the label Ranting

The Post

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In the news today are reports that Royal Mail, to help defray the losses it is making, wants to abolish postal deliveries on Saturdays. According to the BBC, the company is arguing that a delivery service created for 20 billion letters is not sustainable when it is only being required to deliver 7 billion.  I confess I still enjoy those rare occasions when I receive a handwritten letter and look back with nostalgia on the days of 2 deliveries a day, including one before I set off for work. Now, of course, we have e-mails and messaging services rendering the posting of correspondence almost obsolete. That said, I confess the sight of the post van in the street always arouses a surge of inner excitement.  Unfortunately it is invariably tempered by disappointment when we receive either nothing at all or a pile of junk mail that’s moved straight from floor to recycling bin. In the past week we had two such deliveries and I did actually sift through the first wondering if, a little like onl

Frazzled by the Electric

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How do the truly elderly navigate bureaucracy? Recently I had an uncomfortable experience from checking an older relative's energy bill. Her gas and electricity come from one of our largest providers and back in August when I had conducted the same check, I submitted meter readings for her, naively thinking that her direct debit payments would be reduced because of the credit that had built up. Now why ever would I think that an energy supplier might behave decently and do this, especially for somebody whom it has listed as a vulnerable person? Yesterday it was apparent that instead not only had the direct debit payment been increased but the credit was now running into 4 figures and so far as I could see approximated a whole year's supply of energy. Not wanting to telephone, because I really can't stand those awful "Your call is important to us," messages as you hold for eternity, I decided to try the chat bot. I succinctly explained that we were looking for a re

It Never Rains but it Pours

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  The rain seems to have been non-stop for days now, sometimes heavy, sometimes less so but incessant regardless. Then just when I thought we had seen the last of big holes on the drive, our illusions were shattered. A truck arrived to collect the skip that contained the contaminated hardcore dug out mainly from behind the house a couple of months ago. Despite the weather, the driver was well-dressed for the conditions and appeared to have everything under control until the moment, skip loaded, he moved to drive back onto the road. As his front wheel trundled over the reinstated driveway above the trench that had been filled, didn't it just go and collapse! Of course, this being a project controlled by loss adjusters, we have no say in the way the work is conducted, but honestly you couldn't make it up. If we'd been employing them directly we'd be beginning to suspect we'd hired cowboys. As it is, I've been checking so far as I can to ensure all jobs comply wit

The Runaway Train

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  The state-pension triple lock has featured in media debate in recent weeks with speculation as to whether or not the Government is genuinely committed to maintaining it or not. Some politicians of course are not reticent in putting forward arguments for its abolition. I am a member of the cohort who, because of changes in Government policy, was denied her state pension at first 60, then with relatively short notice at 62 as well. Luckily, I am now growing in confidence that it might actually start to be paid when I attain 66; those only slightly younger than myself must wait until 67. Whether the pension, which we now have to work longer to earn in full, will be worth a realistic sum going forward, is of course dependent on the Government's commitment to the lock. There are those who argue that the country cannot afford the increases it guarantees and whereby the state pension rises annually in line with inflation, average wage growth or 2.5% whichever is the greater. What they o

Let Them Deliver

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  You have to admire our present Government, always striving to tend to our needs and only ever with our best interests at heart. What is it about the Conservative Party though that since Norman Tebbit 42 years ago it's been obsessed with getting us onto bicycles, whilst ministers swan around in chauffeur driven limos or in the case of the Prime Minister jets and helicopters? Perturbed by the number of "economically inactive" people under pension age, the  Work and Pensions Secretary, Mel Stride, last week suggested that over 50's should consider getting on their bikes and delivering pizzas. (At least he knew better than to suggest we catch a train). I guess it didn't dawn on him that many of us in this category would actually have qualified for state pensions a number of years ago if his party hadn't changed the rules at the last minute and that not earning in your early sixties is by no mean unusual. He also overlooked how many are now caring for elderly rel

May Day

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  It is the first day of May and obviously I began it by washing my face with the dew on the May blossom from the hawthorn hedges before taking my place, ribbon in hand, by the maypole on the village green. Yes, I have been idly dreaming but sometimes there is a pang for the old traditions that persisted for centuries until we all became a little too sophisticated and learnt to prefer the immersive entertainment of the television screen. In our local market town an ancient charter still upholds the right to hold a May Fair in the High Street for 4 days. For hundreds of years I have no doubt that its main purpose was to trade animals and hire itinerant agricultural workers. Today it is a noisy funfair, allegedly encouraging pickpockets and petty shoplifters into the centre whilst creating mayhem for the traffic flow as a consequence of road closures. It does, however, serve its purpose in getting people to congregate and mix whilst bringing smiles to small children's faces. I guess

I Spoke Too Soon

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Did I really give my last blog entry the title Unscathed? Tempting fate and living dangerously might spice up retirement but aren't necessarily to be recommended. Of course the portent of doom was obviously already floating in the stars on Tuesday night when at 6pm and on the coldest day of the winter so far, there was a power outage across the village. Now you may not recall, but Tuesday evening, 7pm was, of course, the kick-off time for the England v Wales World Cup match. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for the poor souls on the other end of the customer helpline that evening, who would inevitably have been inundated with angry would-be TV viewers. After all I felt aggrieved and am hardly a die-hard follower. Electricity was restored by 7.30pm but not after the customer care personnel had presumably received short shrift from disappointed football supporters. Even if the fans were spared the agony of a first half that by all acounts was made up of back passing an

Shift Happens

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    I am not sure that any of us likes change. Set in our ways, it can be experienced as extremely disruptive. Of late we have had several changes of occupant on our road and after years of being used to the rhythm of previous neighbours, it does take some getting used to. There are now people who park in the street where the residents before were accustomed to putting their cars on the drive. Then there are those who light up a barbecue at the slightest whiff of sunshine, adding a certain "je ne sais quoi" to the scent of my washing drying on the line. Grass mowing hours have altered and there are even owners' cats to contend with, as they seek to extend their territory into our garden.  I hope none of my readers likes garden gnomes. To be fair none of our new inhabitants have yet gone so far as to install any but we do find the lifesize model deer furnishing a nearby front porch something of a novelty. However, today a Christmas wreath has appeared on the front door so

Robbed

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  So there I was in the sunshine, eating a lunchtime sandwich whilst sitting on the grass in a park adjoining the river in Bath. Suddenly I felt a whoosh of air and next thing the bread, butter and prawn mayo filling were flying through the sky in the beak of a gigantic seagull. I realise that seabirds like their shellfish; I even know that getting up snug and close to nature is good for you, but being mugged in broad daylight by a winged predator wasn't quite what I was expecting! Who even knew that gulls would be such pests so far inland? Let's just say the incident was traumatising and in addition to the involuntary squeal, left me shaking. That bird was enormous! Unfortunately it wasn't the only transgression I suffered during my time away. Indeed somebody clearly took a fancy to a decorative scarf I had with me and it disappeared. To be honest its value was negligible but the pedant in me that clearly sees right from wrong, still finds it difficult to cope with the ide

Imperial Connections

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    Just when you think those in charge couldn't get more ridiculous, today we learn that a benefit of Brexit is that we might want to return to Imperial measurements instead of those nasty European metric ones. Curiously a map of the world circulating online suggests that apart from the USA, Myanmar and Liberia every other country is fairly content with counting in tens and thousands. I guess those of us who are retired represent pretty much the last generations to have struggled at school adding and subtracting in £sd, as well as memorising all those weird and wonderful weights and measures. Unsurprisingly there doesn't seem to be an abundance of enthusiasm for our great leadership's latest contribution to the transformation of the country into a complete and utter laughing stock. Mr Johnson may very much want to see a Crown on his glass every time he toasts a departing member of staff, but he has overlooked once again that the rest of us don't get to party quite as o

No Words

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Tormented

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  I don't like to feel totally helpless, but events at the other end of Europe over the past 24 hours have created that torment regardless. Somehow it seems absurd to post a blog entry updating you on my cushioned way of life whilst others are forced to fight for theirs or else leave everything to flee for safety. It is hard to appreciate just how much we take our freedom and comfortable lifestyles for granted and how ineffective we potentially are in protecting the liberties of others. There again and at moments like these it is easy to have our own "What if it were us?" moments or to feel guilt when putting something pleasurable in the diary for next month. Are our lives really going to proceed as normal or is a vile dictator on the verge of spoiling life as we know it for everybody? So much for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights when at least one of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council can just disregard its contents at will. A 21st century act

Tested and Traced

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  Following my return home, I hadn't expected to be hounded by NHS Test and Trace. However, since Monday afternoon I have received e-mails, text messages and yesterday a telephone call. They all essentially say the same thing: You have tested positive for Covid and must isolate! Now it's not exactly likely that somebody recuperating from abdominal surgery with the added complication of an emergency admission to hospital with heart issues, particularly wants to go out and party. I can't deny, however, that a short walk in the cold sunshine or a socially distanced visitor or two might go down a treat.  However, and with time on my hands (surprise!), I thought I'd best check the actual legislation for what appears to be an outrageous situation bearing in mind that the medical consensus is that I do not have Covid when the swab taken for the contemporaneous PCR test was negative. The Health Protection (Coronavirus, Restrictions) (Self-Isolation) (England) Regulations 2020 a

Here We Go Again

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  There's a certain sense of déjà vu at present. The moment the current incumbent of the office of Prime Minister stands before a lectern and tells us that we won't be locked down for Christmas, you inevitably fear the worst.  When he tells you to work from home (I always do in my minimal role as Parish Clerk) but still go to the office party (there are no other employees to party with), you know you are probably going to be in trouble. When he urges the whole country to join "a great national fight back" against Omicron and to "carry on giving it both barrels" by queuing up for a booster vaccination (fortunately we had ours several weeks ago) and by testing constantly, you can't help wishing a serious adult rather than somebody who apparently thinks visiting Peppa Pig World is a great way to spend the day, was in charge. It was left to the Chief Medical Officer to pick up the pieces and recommend that sensibly we should prioritise our social contacts an

Bitten by the Bug

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No I haven't taken up a new hobby. Instead I'm becoming slightly exasperated. There was a time when I associated fly bites with holidays in warmer climes, now it seems that the insects in our garden have decided to turn on me. Worse still, it's now September and with a couple of days of unseasonally high temperatures, the local fly life is back, determined to outdo even Dracula with its blood sucking fetish. Okay, I know that here in the North of England, we've enjoyed a warmer summer than usual but that still doesn't mean Yorkshire has grown a population of mosquitoes and whilst midges have always been a nuisance, I can't recall ever reacting to their bites particularly. I swear my new enemy is the common house fly but when I looked them up, discovered they can't bite because of overlapping mouth parts. Well, all I can say is their suck is pretty painful too. Also whatever it is that keeps getting trapped on the inside of my sandal strap and then thinks its

Space Invaders

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  Do you remember when Space Invaders first came out? It was a long time ago because I was at university at the time. So long ago that I had almost forgotten about those little green men moving across the screen in our pre-home-computer days. Strange that I now look back with nostalgia at something which seemed so futuristic at the time but is primitive by early 21st century standards. I guess that's what happens in retirement, you begin to look back fondly at the most ridiculous innovations of the past. If I'm not careful I'll be describing the merits of dehydrated potato (Smash) next and I never did enjoy that! My memories of Space Invaders were unlocked during our Lakeland visit as a consequence of what I shall refer to as a Covid incident. Whilst we pretty much kept ourselves to ourselves, socialising only with the eldest and his fiancée who joined us for the week and exchanging fleeting greetings with strangers we passed on the fells, I had cause one morning to join a

Technophobia

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  It's happened; I have finally reached that stage of retirement where I believe it appropriate to declare myself a technophobe. It all came to a head yesterday after permitting my iPad to  update to iOS 14.6. I'd been avoiding the upgrade on the basis that whilst it might resolve some issues it would inevitably create others. However, conscious that certain apps appeared to be struggling, I ultimately and unwisely decided to try it as a potential solution. I wish I hadn't bothered, or at least not without doing a little more investigating as to the consequences. How do you keep your passwords safe? I moved on from the favoured one or two repetitive sequences several years ago and purchased a purpose designed app that stores passwords in an encrypted format. It automatically backs up to iCloud,  and I recently even started to rely on it to generate frustratingly unmemorable chains of random digits. Now, I did consider, rather than chancing my luck and banking on the iPad al

Staying Local

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  In light of the request to remain local,  many people in the village have been walking along the various lanes and footpaths that surround us. In joining them, Mister E and I have noticed two phenomena:  Firstly, we appear to have exhausted the number of new sights and changes to comment on, meaning that on Monday which is refuse collection day, and in what must have been sheer desperation, we found ourselves commenting on people's wheelie bins. Can you actually imagine wanting to waste your breath talking about such things especially when they bear no resemblance to the pretty coloured ones in the photograph that I snapped on a stop in Inveraray last year? Secondly, a trend seems to  have grown whereby fellow residents promenade just before the sun goes down. I imagine it has more to do with the shortening of the days than a linked desire to socialise at 3.30 pm whilst keeping one's distance.  Anyway I am pleased to report that time has moved on and the second phenomenon has

The Tiers of a Clown

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  (Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay ) It looks like I wasn't so far off the mark yesterday when I forecast a grey day and the imposition of further draconian measures under the tier system. With Tier 3 areas to the North and South of us, however, we are probably lucky to be escaping with Tier 2 restrictions even if they are harsher than the Lower Tier provisions we were obeying 3 weeks ago. As a consequence of the current national lockdown, local case numbers, below the average for the country anyway, do appear to have dropped further but we have been stepped up a tier. Never mind, we are in good company, when it seems that only if you are living on a small island or at the very tip of the South West  have you been bestowed a pass to Tier 1. That said, as the biggest English county by land area, it does seem a little silly to be tying us down because of transmissions in a seaside resort 50 miles or more away. However, I probably don't want to be putting forward that argument

Sunshine and Problem Solving

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The primary route into the village was closed towards the end of last month to allow for much needed repairs to a bridge across the lane and above which runs the East Coast main railway line. It's proving to  be a real inconvenience when I need to travel to see my mother or visit the supermarket. However, and on the plus side, it now offers the opportunity for walking along, unimpeded by vehicles and with the added benefit of tarmac underfoot. It's not a surface I normally enjoy stomping on but when the footpaths and bridleways are damp and muddy underfoot, it comes into its own. Hence, today the sun was shining but, after rain overnight and this morning, conditions dictated against anywhere soft and squelchy for exercise. The ideal opportunity therefore, to march on a road I would normally only ever drive along. Mister E donned sunglasses for the occasion but, not being so "cool," I preferred the "uncovered and out to absorb Vitamin D and boost the immune system