Gripes & Graplings

I've Had Enough so I've Moved!

2006-09-08T16:29:00.000+01:00

For those who are interested, I can now be found by following this link.

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General Grappling

2006-07-11T20:21:00.000+01:00

Tonight marks the end of ten days of peace. My youngest child has been in Norway but is returning tomorrow, with oldest daughter (middle child) in tow. Noisy music will once again be heard throughout the homestead.

I've too much work to do. I know that's better than not having enough and that I shouldn't moan but bugger it all, I want to moan. Right now it feels good.

Am writing a romantic novel [ducks to avoid flying custard tarts]. Am also enjoying it. It's.... wait for it.... a Mills & Boon! [ducks to avoid flying turds]. Look, I'm gonna say this once and only once. If you haven't read one, don't knock 'em, right? My grandad always said, "if you don't know what you're talking about then keep your gob shut" and that's what I'm repeating to you.

Am getting a new kitchen soon. This is a good thing. Am also getting new interior doors. This is also a good thing.

Am writing my memoirs here. Mostly rubbish because that's what I tend to remember.

That's it.

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British Horse Slaughter

2006-07-01T11:14:00.000+01:00

Horses. Not my favourite animals but undoubtedly beautiful and intelligent creatures that absolutely do not deserve to die horrible and cruel deaths at the hands of humans.

Every four minutes a horse is slaughtered in this country. A horse that has done nothing wrong. A horse that simply isn't fast enough for the racing industry, is semi-feral and unwanted, a pregnant mare, an innocent foal. 35,000 every year, most sold abroad for human consumption.

Approximately 15000 horses are bred for the racing industry every year. Only 5000 make it. The remaining 10000 are left to face an uncertain fate, for many that means slaughter. Not by humane euthanasia--even though that costs no more than around £35--but by a stun bolt. The animals are stunned and then hung to bleed before being disembowelled and prepared for sale. For every bet that's placed on horse racing, we're helping fund this abysmal practise.

If you care about horses, take a look at the following website. There's lots of information available and a petition you can sign.

British Horse Slaughter

Sometimes I feel ashamed to call myself human.

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horse racing

Designer Babies & Gender Choice

2006-06-28T14:36:00.000+01:00

Should we be able to choose the sex of our children?

What are the two sides of the coin and which is most likely to fall with its face up?

Is there a possibility of a populace imbalance? Is it likely that couples (individuals) will choose one sex over the other? How many designer babies will need to be born before they have any impact on the gender balance?

Will prospective parents in countries like China, where only one child per couple is allowed, be more likely to choose a boy over a girl? Girls, as we know, are not favoured in Chinese society, and the law controlling births have led to girls being "done away with" at birth to make way for a boy. Will designer babies at least ensure that girl babies will no longer need to suffer drowning and other unpleasant deaths?

Is it better that we're able to choose the gender of our children and bestow love on them rather than put up with a child we didn't want? Is this just another step onwards from abortion? Give birth but only to those children we truly desire?

Me? I'm definitely against it. Leave well alone. We've messed around with nature far too much as it is. Boys will be boys and girls will be girls and that's how it's supposed to be.

Yes, some children will suffer for being the wrong sex and that's a terrible thing, but designer babies isn't the answer. Education is what's needed. An understanding that for the world to function, both sexes are needed. After all, if that wasn't the case, wouldn't we all be born hermaphrodite?

Ok, so designer babies could perhaps stop us from becoming a frail and sickly species that's unable to survive the diseases we're surrounded by, but that's another argument entirely.

Related Link: What Are Designer Babies?

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Designer Babies

Step Fathers Are Important People, Too!

2006-06-18T14:57:00.000+01:00

So it's Father's Day again. And once again my daughter wanted to get a card that said "To my Step-father" rather than to "Dad" or "My Father" but do you think she could find one?

We looked in three shops, one of which had a huge selection, but not one lousy Step-Father card did we find!

With the divorce rate as high as it is these days and lots of second-marriages, surely there are almost just as many children living with a step-parent as there are living with both their natural parents? So why make it so difficult for those kids to show they appreciate what their step-father's done for them throughout the year? In some cases, it may even be more important than showing gratitude to a father because a step-father's job can be far more difficult. They have to cope with kids who don't want a step-parent in their lives, who see them as a threat to their parents ever getting back together again, and whereas a father has a legal responsibility to care for his kids, a step-father doesn't, and yet many (most?) still do. They clear up their vomit if they're sick in the night, hold their hands when they're scared, and help them with their algebra homework. All of this should be celebrated, surely?

Richard tells me he saw lots of step-father cards in the shop next to the post-office (you know the one I mean, don't you?) but that place must be an exception in this town. LM was quite peeved at not being able to get one and had to settle for something neutral in the end. A funny one that she thought Richard would appreciate.

I know it shouldn't matter, that it's just a card, but for the kids who want to show their appreciation to their step-fathers along the same lines as they'd show it to their fathers (and remember that a lot of them have fathers who show little or no interest in them), it can be quite an issue. Isn't it enough that they live in an 'untraditional' family unit, without having it rubbed in by the card industry?

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PS: Spent the morning at the boot market. Couldn't find a pair anywhere!

The End of the World is Nigh

2006-06-05T15:02:00.000+01:00

Or so say the doom merchants who believe that 6.6.06 will be the date for the apocalypse.

I'm not sure where they get their data from although judging by the numbers I'd hazard a guess that there's some kind of connection with 'The Beast' going on. The number 666, as mentioned in Revelations, has now become the date for us to kiss our loved ones goodbye.

So what's going to happen? Are Satanists planning to dissolve the planet in a huge acid bath? Where will they get it from? And what will happen to it afterwards?

Evidently, people in the US are so certain that the world's about to end tomorrow that they've been rushing to the bookies in order to place their bets. 10-1's being offered at the moment.

What I want to know though is, if this prophecy does come true and we're all history by tomorrow midnight, who's going to make the pay outs on the wagers? And who'll be left to spend it?

Some folks just don't think things through, do they?

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Lady Muck Comes of Age

2006-05-05T14:49:00.000+01:00

The world now has more female millionaires under the age of 45 than there are male millionaires of the same age, and it's predicted that within twenty years women will control 60 percent of the world's finances. Take a look at this article for more on the subject.

How does that make you feel, guys? I spent 10 years living with a man who found it very difficult to accept that women were even part of management let alone actually running their own businesses, because strong women threatened his leadership position, both in the workplace and in the home. It's hardly surprising I left him, is it?

I particularly liked the last part of the article - the bit relating to the red sports car. How true that is! I admit I have my eye on an Audi TT but that's hardly a Maserati, is it?

And for the record, even though I'm too late to be one of the under-45s, I have every intention of becoming a female millionaire. I just have to figure out how first.

Related Link: Identified Wealth of Individuals in The United Kingdom (pdf)

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Female Millionaires

Read This or Something Bad Will Happen!

2006-05-08T18:51:00.000+01:00

I mean it. If you don't continue to read this post right to the end without missing a single word, something really awful will happen to you. Within 5 days of skipping this post you'll start scratching your backside and no amount of worm powders will cure it. Your life will be spent squeezing your buttocks together in some vain hope that the itch might just be relieved. But it won't.

So I dare you to try it. Go on... skip to the end and see what happens. You're not superstitious are you? You don't care whether you'll have a lifetime of good luck if you guide at least 5 visitors to this post, and a guaranteed lottery win of at least £50,000 if you bump that up to at least 10 visitors, do you? No, of course not. Because you don’t believe any of that baloney, do you?

For the umpteenth time this year I've received one of those "Send this mail to 10 people within an hour and blah blah blah but break the chain and your grandmother will wet the bed tonight whilst wearing her best wynciette nightie" type emails, and they're all from the same person.

I keep telling her that although some of them contain sweet messages like "25 reasons why men should be eradicated from the planet", I'd rather not receive them. Why? Because I'm bloody superstitious, that's why. And if you admit it, so are you. Because if you weren't, you'd have skipped all this and gone straight to the bottom, just to prove to yourself that you don't give a monkey's armpit about potential embarrassing itches or £50,000. Wouldn't you? Eh?

I don't like to see myself as a superstitious person - in fact if people ask, I always say I'm not, but if the truth be known, whenever I get to the end of a humorous email only to discover that my toe-nails are going to rot if I don't forward it to at least 10 people, a nasty shiver goes up my spine. I mean, what if it really does happen? How can you be sure it isn't possible? Strange things are happening all the time after all, and if anybody can bring themselves to have an affair with John Prescott, then surely there must be people out there who are able to send curses via email?

Please... if you're ever considering sending me one of those emails, stop a moment and consider just what kind of dreadful situation you're putting me in. I don't know 10 people I can send the damned thing to so you're dooming me to a life of pus-filled spots, constipation, unpaid bills and loneliness. Do you really hate me that much?

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Chain Mail

Don't Look Down!

2006-05-18T04:20:00.000+01:00

According to some scientist or another -- or maybe even several, I'm not sure -- people suffering from depression are more likely to look down whilst walking.

Well quite honestly, is it surprising they're depressed? I'd be bloody depressed, too, if I kept bumping into things because I wasn't looking where I was going, wouldn't you?

Actually I have suffered from depression. Still do if I don't take my 'loony juice', as Richard calls it. It's real name's Fluoxetine, otherwise known as Prozac. I don't think it had anything to do with bumping into things, though. Probably more the fact that I was learning to live with -- still am learning to live with -- my medical situation, being stuck in this poxy little house after being used to having plenty of room, having my freedom removed (evidently I can't move away from this borough as no other health authority is likely to take me because of the cost of my medical needs) and not being particular happy about being in England. A few other things were mixed in for good measure but I don't need to go into them all. One very big one was, and still is, that I'm no longer sure who the hell I am.

I left England when I was 19 and came back as a 36 year old woman. People change a lot during that time, right? Only I came back and found myself confused - almost as though that part of my life hadn't happened because I couldn't relate to the things a 36 year old normally would be able to. I didn't know how the tax system worked, how to claim financial help for my son, or even how to pay my bills (yes, something as simple as that is done differently in Norway). And then there were the friends I'd had when I left. Some were still around and again, I felt confused. They didn't know me, the person I'd grown into. They knew the Sharon that left 18 years earlier and I felt as though I was still expected to be that person. They hadn't changed much -- I suppose because they had the same influences the whole time -- but I had. Did I really fit in? I didn't know. I kept trying but all the while I kept losing more of myself.

My depression, I suppose, was a culmination of all of those things. It isn't something I talk about much - in fact, I don't think I've really spoken about it to anybody. Not even my closest friends really know how I feel. Why? Stop asking such difficult questions!

What's the point in writing this? I DON'T BLOODY WELL KNOW! It all started off with bumping into stuff so blame the scientists! It's gotta be somebody else's fault. Right?

Related Link:
Fluoxetine

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Depression

Chicklit and Other Bookish Stuff

2006-05-24T12:10:00.000+01:00

Why is it such a bad thing to like chicklit? Everywhere I go, I see women reading them (you can almost always tell by the cover, can't you?) and yet whenever I tell anybody I like them, I'm almost always met with a look of disapproval.

What is all this snobbery? Why should only certain types of books be acceptable for reading when millions of chicklit and other types of romantic fiction stories are sold and enjoyed by people from all walks of life? Who's to say that chicklit books are just trashy, mind-numbing garbage that should never be allowed to see the light of day? All I can say is that those people who insist on sticking two fingers up at anything other than just the one kind of book they believe to be intellectually acceptable are missing out on a lot of entertainment. The same goes for music and films. I'm afraid I can't be doing with all that snobbery. I like lots of different types of books, lots of different types of music and, although I'm not big into films, will watch them from a variety of genres.

Surely reading from just one genre is like only ever eating one type of cake? I don’t know about you but I'd get sick to death of walnut slice, even though it's my favourite, if I had to eat that every time I fancied some cake. Fruit cake and sponge cake are nice, too. Lemon cake's good, as is carrot cake and cheese cake. I might eat more walnut slice than any other kind but I'll be damned if I'm going to eat ONLY walnut slice.

Chicklit makes me smile. It's light entertainment where women (many of which I can relate to) are put into situations that could possibly be solved in a reasonably easy way but for the sake of entertainment, the author has them tripping up and making tits of themselves along the way. The same goes for the men who appear in the stories. And let's face it, whether it's a romance, a murder mystery or a horror story, there's nothing entertaining about a story where everything goes smoothly, is there?

Comedy's good for us. There's enough to be miserable about in this world as it is so if escaping into chicklit helps bring a smile to my face, what's the problem? I really don't get it. If I want to be frightened, I'll read a horror. If I want suspense, I'll read a mystery. If I want to cry, I'll read a soppy romance. And if I want to laugh, I'll read a comedy.

I don't read sci-fi or fantasy. I've tried but I can't stand it. But do I tell those who enjoy it that they're making some kind of literary mistake? Of course not. It's up to them what they want to read.

So next time you give me that "down the nose" look just because I happen to be reading chicklit (or -- dare I say it -- Mills & Boon!!!), please remember that it's my choice and, unlike you, I'm capable of enjoying different things on different levels for different reasons.

Whatever happened to live and let live?

Rant over.

Related Link: ChickLit Books

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Reading

If You Watch TV You'll Lose Your Marbles!

2006-05-29T12:12:00.000+01:00

I read something interesting t'other day. Interesting because it seems, for once, I'm doing something right. It's not often I discover that, but luck was with me on this particular occasion.

I was flicking through a magazine (Good Housekeeping, I believe) when I came across an article that caught my eye. Basically, it said that those who watch a lot of TV are more likely to suffer from Altzheimer's in old age than those who engage in intellectual activities. Three hours or more of TV a day was particularly bad.

The brain, of course, is a muscle, and like any other muscle, it needs to be exercised if it's to be kept in tip-top condition. For every hour we spend veging in front of the TV in a semi-conscious state, (a state where we're not actually learning anything, just being fed information - there's a difference), we're increasing our chances of Altzheimer's.

I'd imagine that those who work in mind-numbing jobs like call-centres where they do nothing but follow a script all day, or production lines in factories, must be practically guaranteed to be heading for Altzheimer's.

Anyway, I thought I'd have a mooch round the old Internet and see if I could find any additional information on this, and came up with some stuff that a Dr Friedland and his team of researchers at a couple of US universities have said. Evidently, of those studied, people with Altzheimer's were less likely to have had intellectual hobbies and were unlikely to have had such a wide range of interests as their healthy peers. They also all watched a lot of TV.

While watching TV is a passive activity, both physically and mentally, intellectual activities include reading, solving crosswords, doing jigsaw puzzles, knitting, and woodworking.

Physical activity also plays its role. Those who are less active are three times more likely to develop Altzheimer's than those who partake in activities such as gardening, sports, or playing a musical instrument.

The good news is that, as far as intellectual activities go, its never too late to get started.

Luckily, although I can't take much physical exercise anymore, I watch very little TV and have a crossword book in the loo to pass the time with when "finishing off" takes a little longer than usual. I read, I knit, I do jigsaws. I wonder whether surfing the Net falls into the intellectual category or not?

This is serious research so next time you sit there being served by Murdoch's miserable brain mushing tripe, give some thought to how your carers are going to feel when you can no longer remember where the toilet is let alone solve a crossword while you're in there!

Related Link: Findings presented on Alzheimer's disease, brain gymnastics, and lead

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Altzheimers's Disease

Blogger's Broken.... AGAIN!!

2006-05-14T14:55:00.000+01:00

Bloody place! I take the time to update my sidebar with some fancy banner type adverts to take the place of those boring Google ads and what happens? The bloody thing's broken! You can post but you can't update your template! Grrrrrr (make sure you hear that sound properly - it's a cross between a Pit Bull and a White Tiger).

Am I allowed to swear?

I bet it's because I didn't forward that email with the photos of the soldiers cuddling kittens and what-have-ya the other day. Damn! I knew it'd come back to haunt me.

New & Blue

2006-04-29T23:37:00.000+01:00

This made a change.

I almost wrote that it made a welcome change, but that would be telling porkies. It did honestly make a nice change, though.

I'm sure you get tired of seeing the same old ads for viagra landing in your inbox every day? I now I do. To the point, in fact, where seeing this new and very blue ad almost made me smile.

I can't help wondering about the rabbit hole. The mind boggles.

Going To The Chapel and We're Gonna Get Married

2006-04-27T23:55:00.000+01:00

You're supposed to sing that title, by the way.

Not that we're actually going to a chapel, nor have we made any definite plans, but Richard popped the question today so we're now officially engaged.

Yes, that's the ring.

He bought it at an antiques fair today and right there, bang in the middle of the hall, he asked me to marry him. And who said romance is dead?

I think maybe the fact that Tom was flirting with me on Richard's GoatFood might have swung it ;-)

Nerdiness

2006-04-27T02:19:00.000+01:00

It's official! I wannabe a nerd!

Who's A Lucky Girl?

2006-04-20T12:48:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I won 2.5 million Euros in a Dutch lottery - twice! I won 1 million pounds in The National Lottery email draw and was offered a share of 38 million dollars if I let a Russian heir to some fortune or another place his money in my bank account for 3 months. Boy have I got it made! So much so that the Chase Bank of America seem to think I have an account with them that's being hacked several times a day.

Should I need Viagra, I've been offered it at a huge 75% discount and I can even get a pack of 3 condoms absolutely free of charge when I order more than 30 of the same. I've also been offered Zoloft, but as I'm not sure what that is, I think I'll give that one a miss.

The unnamed Indian pain relief medication sounds interesting, as does the Prilosec, but only because I like the name and it ends with the initials I had as an unmarried girl.

What I don't understand, though, is why anybody would think I should need to enlarge my penis. Isn't it big enough as it is? Yes, I know it's non-existent but that's the point! I don't have one so why should it be bigger? Maybe they think I'll buy their 'Sensational Revolution in Medicine' for Richard? It'd certainly make an unusual gift idea but somehow I can't see him thanking me for it.

Isn't email a wonderful thing?

Flat Pack Men

2006-04-08T14:27:00.000+01:00

I've just been listening to Future Radio, a local Norfolk radio that, thanks to the wonders of the Interweb, I can listen to whilst sat at home in Crewe.

The afternoon show was hosted by two girls who, quite honestly, reminded me of a pair of teenagers acting silly because they've been given some precious air-time, but they had a couple of interesting things to say. Not things they'd thought of themselves though.

One point that interested me was that, evidently, hairy men are quicker at putting up IKEA flat pack furniture than men with little body hair. I've no idea how this was measured or who was behind the study because, these girls being silly and boring, I wasn't listening much.

I imagine there's some link to testosterone. Men are traditionally hairy and once upon a time, women loved that. But now we hear girls like these two saying "would I want a hairy man putting up my flatpacks? I think not." Things have changed. We don't want MEN anymore, we want effeminate boys who are easily controlled.

I'm not quite sure why I'm writing this or where I actually wanted to go but there must have been a point. I think it had something to do with cavemen. Although I doubt they had flat-pack furniture.

Related Links:
Future Radio
Ikea

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Gene Pitney Dead and Gone

2006-04-05T15:58:00.000+01:00

I didn't even know he was touring in the UK until I saw the news at lunch time. Aged just 65, Gene Pitney had been found dead in his bed this morning at a hotel in Cardiff. He'd shown no signs of illness and the cause of death is, as yet, unknown. The police aren't considering it suspicious.

I won't pretend I was a fan of Pitney. I wasn't. I don't have any CDs by the man and can only name two of his songs: "Twenty Four Hours From Tulsa" and then, much later, "Something's Got A Hold of My Heart".

The reason it saddens me a little that he's gone is because I remember my mum singing "Twenty Four Hours..." when I was a little girl. She always sang while she was cooking or doing the housework, and that was one of her favourites.

That's it really. I've nothing more to say on the subject. I won't be sending flowers.

Related Link:
BBC News Story

Don't You Need To Know The Alphabet To Write A Book?

2006-03-30T17:22:00.000+01:00

There's a new book scheduled to hit the shelves this autumn and guess who's written it? Victoria--"I've never read a book"--Beckham!

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the knowledge of how books work one of the basic requirements of writing one? I mean, surely Victoria Beckham writing a book would be like me walking into a recording studio and whacking out a number one, wouldn't it? Mind you, she isn't capable of that either and she's a star! How??? The woman has admitted to never having read a book and yet... [sigh]

The book's about fashion (now didn't that surprise you?) and will undoubtedly make her lots of money, or at least the kind of money most of us would call lots. I doubt it'll even make a noticeable difference to Victoria's bank account, though. When you can afford to buy your partner a car that costs more than the average house and your son a pair of earrings that cost more than I've spent on all my three children's birthdays throughout their entire lives, you're not exactly hard up for a bob or two.

Oh well, back to writing my book and hoping I'll still have enough money at the end of the month to pay the council tax.

Jealous? Me? Never!

Related Link:
Victorian Beckham Has Never Read A Book

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I Work From Home - Geddit?

2006-03-19T20:24:00.000Z

Why is it that the world and his gerbil seem to think that because a person works from home, they're available 24/7 for long telephone conversations about relationship problems/diets that don't work/boredom at work etc?

These people seem to be missing one vital point. Working from home means that one is working whilst in their home. Not all the time, obviously, but a lot of the time. Probably 8 hours a day and often more.

For every hour I spend jawing on the phone, that's an hour longer I have to work that day in order to finish my work load.

"But everybody has to have a break" I'm told. Sure they do. But why should I be forced to spend my break on the phone? I'd like to spend it eating my lunch, thank you very much.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind the occasional break in the day spent chatting on the phone, in fact there are times when I positively welcome it, but 15 minutes is enough. Anything more starts eating into too much of my working time, especially when more than one person calls in the course of the day.

I get paid for the number of jobs I can complete and return to my clients. The fewer finished jobs I have in a week, the less money I earn. That's not too difficult to understand, is it? No money = no bills paid = family tossed out into the gutter.

Please. When I say "I'm working", try to understand that I can't shorten my working day just because your boyfriend called you a tart, you've put on two pounds in a week, or have caught VD for the fifth time this year.

Sigh.

Bonfire Night

2005-11-05T20:19:00.000Z

I’m sitting in the bedroom and all around me are explosions. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a war going on. But it’s just Bonfire Night, or Guy Fawke’s Night, depending on which name you generally give it.

Why do we build bonfires and shoot up fireworks every 5th November? What are we celebrating, exactly? The fact that Guy Fawke’s didn’t manage to blow up parliament, or the fact that he tried? I suppose that depends on how you feel about our government. Right now, I’m sort of glad he didn’t do it, although there were times during the 80s when I would have quite happily seen the whole damn place blasted to smithereens.

It does seem a shame that so much money is spent on making the sky look pretty for one night, though. I can’t be bothered to do any research to find out how many millions go whoosh every year, but it's quite a few, I know that much. BUT, on the other hand, I’d usually be over the park enjoying the pretty lights along with thousands of other locals. But it’s raining tonight, so we didn’t bother. Apart from my teenage daughter who, along with a friend, polished off half a bottle of vodka before venturing forth into the night. Still, it’ll be hot around the huge bonfire they have over there.

I remember one bonfire night, about 8 years ago it must’ve been, when we went to a display in Manchester. It was in a field – right at the bottom as far away from the entrance as you could get. It was literally chucking it down, and the place was just one huge mud bath. We slipped and slid all over the show and eventually one of the girls went arse over head and was top to toe in brown sludge. Our shoes got stuck in the mud so walking was difficult and everybody wanted the toilet, but the port-a-cabin loos they’d put up were, of course, by the entrance. Very clever, I don’t think.

We were also as broke as it’s possible to be, so there was no money for a hot-dog, let alone a go on any of the amusements they’d hired in for the evening. We were cold, hungry and miserable.

In that respect, I’m happier sat here in my warm house, listening to the bangs and blasts going on outside. Stuff the fireworks, I’ll stick with my knitting! I don’t need to freeze my tits off to have fun!

Related Links:
The Story of The Gunpowder Plot and Guy Fawkes
Fireworks UK

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Writers For Sale! Bargain!

2006-01-07T16:03:00.000Z

What is it with writers? Who's convinced them that their worth is non-existent?

As a writer, I often have to put in a quote for work. My quote is based on the rates I need in order to make a viable living. I have bills to pay, food to buy and, when all the necessities are paid for, I'd like to have a bit left over to have fun with, too. Is that too much to expect?

But actually making enough money to meet those needs is becoming increasingly difficult, even though I work 12 hour days. And there's one group of people I blame for it. Writers!

Yes, writers!

I'm not talking about professional, full-time freelancers; I'm talking about those who are looking to earn themselves some pin money while they stay at home taking care of the children. Or those who live in Asia and believe that because they can speak English, they can make a living as writers earning £2.50 for a 500 word article. Yes, you read that right. Two pounds and fifty pence for a five hundred word article!

Now, by the time I've done the necessary research, a 500 word article will generally take me at least an hour to write. The average is probably closer to 2 1/2 hours. If I were to compete with the £2.50 mob, I'd earn an average of £10 a day by working 10 hours without any breaks. No lunch and no coffee! Just flat out working. If I were to work every week of the year, that would give me a grand total of £2,600. Could you live off of that? Of course not! At least I wouldn't have to worry about not having time for holidays - I couldn't afford them anyway!

Maybe I should be blaming the editors of websites and tuppenny bit magazines for pressing prices down this low, but I'm afraid I have to leave the responsibility with the writers. Any businessman will try to keep his outgoings as low as possible, and only when writers start demanding the kind of fees they're worth will anything improve.

Writers should be proud of their profession and stop selling themselves short. If you're one of those who are undercutting the market, I suggest you reconsider your position and ask yourself why you're writing. Do you want to knock the rest of us out of the market, or do you want to be able to earn the kind of money we should be earning? Bid what you're worth!

If you're not worth enough to demand a decent rate for your work then you shouldn't be writing in the first place. Go sweep the streets instead - you'll earn more!

Related links:
The National Union of Journalists' Rates Guide

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Main Meal Salads

2006-03-08T17:26:00.000Z

A distant relative has recently announced that my explanation of the origination of salad as a main meal is, as he so eloquently put it, bollocks.

The problem, you see, is that this particular fifth cousin once removed had been unable to grasp why anybody would want to have such items as salad plates amongst their kitchenalia. Having only ever experienced salads served on full-size dinner plates, he's obviously never been in a position to be educated regarding the finer side of salad serving.

Being from a considerably better line of the family than my poor relative, it's understandable that he wouldn't have the same kind of extensive knowledge of dining etiquette as one would hope and that was taught me by my mother's servant. If he had been in possession of the necessary knowledge he would have immediately understood that salad plates measuring six inches in diameter are used for side-salads and not main meals. Side salads, for those who aren't familiar with the finer points of dining, are generally served from a large ~~bowel~~ bowl out of which the diner chooses a selection of greenery, and are eaten as an accompaniment to cold buffets. Or yesterday's leftovers.

Salads as a main meal developed out of necessity during the Second World War. The working classes grew lettuce, cucumber, radish, onions and a variety of other vegetables in their small back gardens and, as a means of saving energy, began serving copious amounts of them in their raw state. The salad as 'lunch' was born.

Should you be in the unlucky position that you find yourself disagreeing with me on this, please leave a comment either explaining your reasons or point me in the direction of your truth. It might also be worth procuring a sleeping bag, especially if you're 'almost' family.

Thank you and [enter rude work for testicles here] to it all.

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Disability Living Allowance - Mobility Component

2006-03-14T14:45:00.000Z

The DWP (Department of Work and Pensions) has a handy scheme available that offers those who are disabled to chance to be awarded a sum of money that's meant to help them get about. This is called the mobility component of Disability Living Allowance.

It's a good idea and one that, for many, can mean the difference between isolation and a social life.

The mobility component is awarded on two levels, the lower level being worth £16.05 per week and the higher level a whopping £42.30. Yes, that's all of nearly £2,200 per year. A huge amount, isn't it? Well no, it isn't, but because the majority of those in receipt of it aren't high earners (we're disabled, remember?), the money makes a huge difference to our ability to get out and enjoy life on par with the rest of the population.

What's unfortunate is that there are still thousands of disabled people out there who aren't getting the highest level of mobility because they don't fulfil the criteria, one of which is that you shouldn't be able to walk more than 100 yards without severe discomfort. Let's take a closer look at what that means.

Let's say somebody has a problem with their hips/back/legs but that the problem allows them to walk 150 yards before they experience what can be described as extreme discomfort. They live in an area where their nearest bus-stop is 500 yards from their home and there are no local shops. This person won't be able to receive the highest rate of mobility but where does being able to walk 150 yards get him? Nowhere. He still won't be able to catch a bus or do any shopping, and as he'll have already used up his walking quota, just how is he supposed to get home again?

Then let's say there's another somebody who can only walk 80 yards but has a bus-stop right outside her door and can take the bus to a large shopping centre that supplies mobility scooters to help disabled customers get around. The bus also goes to the train station and the bus station. This somebody is in a far better position to be able to get around without either owning a car or using taxis, and yet, as long as doctors agree that she meets the correct criteria, she'll be automatically awarded the higher rate.

The bloody bureaucracy in this country is so boxed in that those who decide who can and cannot be awarded the higher rate of the mobility component aren't able to offer any consideration to the bigger picture. And if you're over 65, you can forget any ideas you may have had of ever receiving any DLA component.

Sure, if you were awarded it before your 65th birthday then you can continue receiving it (assuming you still meet the criteria, of course), but if you're unlucky enough to have an accident or develop a medical condition that makes walking painful or even impossible after you become 65, they'll give you sod all. Even if you have to have both your legs amputated you'll still get nothing. If that isn't discrimination, what is? How can anybody imagine that a person who became disabled at a later age is less in need of getting out of the house than one that has been so for a while already?

Admittedly they government have been looking at changing this but abolishing the upper age limit would cost the taxpayer an estimated £3.1 billion a year, so they're loath to do it. After all, we all know how selfish Joe England can be when it comes to how his taxes are spent!

Some would probably describe me as one of the lucky ones because I was awarded the higher rate of mobility without having to see a panel of judges (see Colin's post for more on this). The DWP accepted the opinions of my specialist and my GP. My son, on the other hand, was born with severe learning difficulties and a variety of physical problems. He can walk. In fact, he can walk for miles and miles and at speed. But - and this is where the DWP are unable to move out of their cosy little boxes, even though they insisted on sending him to see several doctors - he doesn't have a snowball's chance of going anywhere alone and even when he has somebody with him, he's still prone to knock people over and generally upset the apple cart.

The good people at the DWP awarded him the lower rate because he requires "guidance from somebody" when he's out. Yes, they're quite right. He does indeed need guidance. I've lost count of the number of times I've been busy paying for the bus ticket while Paul has been 'busy' telling the other passengers where to sit, where to put their shopping etc., and knocking things, and sometimes people, over in the process. I've also had to run up the street after a bus where he's jumped on through the back door before I could stop him, thinking that this must be our bus, and moving off into the distance whilst waving to me through the back window. Oh dear... what with him and his antics and me and my dodgy legs, you can imagine what a tizwoz we could get into, can't you? Surely all this would generally be described as "severe behavioural problems"? That's another of the criteria that can be applied to a higher rate award.

And what about "severely mentally impaired"? Yes, that's another that qualifies. What's the difference between "severe learning difficulties" and "severely mentally impaired", exactly? His problems don't stop at not being able to read. He has no understanding of consequences, has no sense of direction, doesn't understand traffic, he can't speak and... well, I won't bore you with the whole list.

As it happens it doesn't matter too much because I use the car I took through the motability scheme (you can only do that if you have the higher rate of mobility) to ferry him about too, but I'm not supposed to. I'm only really supposed to use it for my own needs. But then I can't take Paul on the bus anymore because I can't walk far enough to get to the bus-stop in the first place so surely ferrying Paul is also covering my need? According to the DWP: no, it isn't. Doh!

Draw your own conclusions.

Related Links:
DirectGov - DLA and Who Can Get It
The DWP website

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Organ Donar Complaints??

2006-03-15T11:52:00.000Z

Don't go getting your knickers in a twist; I know I've misspelled 'donor'. It was deliberate. Just bear with me, will you?

Every now and then I pop over to Bravenet in order to check my stats. Like most, when visitors come knocking on my virtual door, I want to know how they found me.

This morning I discovered that one visitor had searched for 'Organ Donar Complaints' through MSN so off I went to give it a try. Sure enough, in 7th position was my gripes and graplings, which of course have absolutely nothing to do with organ donation. Not one post has so much as touched on the subject. Why? I asked myself, whilst sipping at my Bovril, kindly provided by Richard along with a selection of cheese and biscuits for breakfast. Why would my blog have appeared on the search results?

Well, the fact that the searcher probably didn't pay proper attention to at least one of the three Rs whilst at school certainly hasn't helped him find appropriate results. Although it's obvious that Mr Searcher (I'm going to be sexist here - like it or lump it) was actually looking for organ donor complaints, the fact that he's misspelled the middle word brought him to me.

Three words: ORGAN - a quick glance up at the top, right-hand corner and you'll see the word used in my 'about me'. This, according to the Blogger search thingy, is the only time the word appears. DONAR - a clear misspelling of donor, this one appears on a post about take-away food. Now, I'm not entirely sure whether any internal organs are used during the process of making the huge chunk of lamb's meat that's sliced into pita bread and sold as a 'donar kebab', but I'm reasonably sure that this wasn't what Mr Searcher was looking for. COMPLAINTS - appears once, in a very short post about Firefox 1.5.

Mr Searcher may have been in luck, though. Several of the links above that to this blog were actually about organ donation, but like Mr Searcher himself, the owners of those sites had also misspelled donor. I guess it's a matter of the 'spelling challenged' finding each other.

Related Links:
UK Organ Transplant

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