Spring ...

... is certainly here and summer not far away as a pair of our migratory birds have returned and only do so from overwintering in North Africa when the weather is set fair.

The hoopoes are a strange looking bird looking akin to a woodpecker in fancy dress complete with an unusual crest, Brian H always reckoned they looked as though they have a rubber glove on their heads, hence the name 'rubber glove bird' has stuck.   They make a very distinctive call of three 'whoops' close together sounding almost like a woodwind instrument, before we ever saw them when we first came here we could hear them and nicknamed them 'triple birds'! They occasionally arrive on the English south coast but are apparently not all that common there.

Think that you must agree that they are a slightly bizarre looking bird from the photo below, nevertheless we always look forward to seeing them each year.

Just another day ...

So here we are, another morning in France, bluish sky, warmish, quiet everywhere except a multitude of various birds singing away.  Just had breakfast and now on my second coffee of the day, what better way start to a day ...

Right, let’s check emails, bound to be some because I haven’t been online since early yesterday evening because last night’s tele was good, Channel 4 News, University Challenge, Raymond Blanc, second part of Waking the Dead.  Ah, laptop is shut, cats must have been having a riot in the sitting room last night.  Open laptop, press button to show emails, about twenty or so, last one in at 0258 hrs.  That seems a bit strange not to have had any since then, check for net connection.  No connection so that is probably the reason for lack of emails then.

Needs must investigate the lack of internet, check that modem lights are all on, so far so good.  Check physical connections, all fine.  The obvious answer is that a download update happened some time in the wee small hours and the machine has not rebooted properly, answer is to reboot then.  See how sharp I am at this time of day ...

Reboot finished, no connection.  Try to force a connection with no joy so use Microsoft’s wonderful solution finder.  Brilliant, tells me that there is not a problem, I know darn well that there is as I have no internet access.  Occasionally in the past after a forced reboot the thing does not connect so usually having tried all of the usual and obvious remedies perhaps a system restore will do the trick as it usually has previously.

So we go through the system restore procedure, a process which can take a quarter of an hour or so.  Second cup of coffee is gone so an opportune moment for another to help soothe slightly frayed nerves and disposition.

Hooray, restore is complete!  Check connection – none.  Hmmm, scratch head and other parts.  Try to force a connection with no joy.  Try Microsoft’s diagnostic thingy, more in hope than anticipation – blasted thing is adamant that there is not a problem – liar.

OK, let’s try another system restore point in the hope that the chosen one may have been a tad dodgy for some reason best known to itself.  Time passes ...

Another twenty minutes or so has elapsed and another restore is complete according to the onscreen message.  Check all vital signs, still no darned connection.  Repeat all of the diagnostics etc which still show no problem.

Desperation stakes now, try another restore wasting yet another chunk of time ...

Aaarrghh!  Nothing, zilch, rien, sod all except the same reassuring message that all is well.  The way that thing lies so blatantly it could pass for a government minister.

Suddenly my neighbour Simon appears at the door enquiring if I have internet this morning, he uses the same provider Wimax.  Apparently he too has spent the last one and a half hours or so trying establish a connection.  The conclusion is that there must be a network fault.

Nowt else to do but wait patiently for the network boffins to sort it out.  There is a minor snag now as it has just turned mid-day.  So why is that a snag you may ask.  Well, simples.  This is France and it is lunch time, nationally.  Not just grab a quick sarnie from the local deli or eat at your desk, oh no.  Lunch is at least a two hour affair, more often three taken away from your desk in a nice little restaurant offering a three or four course €11 menu.  The average French worker just has such a hard life ...

So what is there to do?  Obvious is it not?  Have lunch and then start waiting patiently again after three o’clock.  

Wait patiently did I say?  Oh yes, connection eventually made just after 1800 this evening.  No explanation of course but then that’s my fault for living in France ...

Yobs, Louts and Scrotes

Reported on BBC News this morning that last night in Salford, Greater Manchester, firemen were attacked by anti-social elements whilst tackling a blaze.  This is not the first time by any means that members of the emergency services have been subjected to attacks whilst carrying out their lawful duty and seems to be increasing frequency.  What is it with these underclass elements that makes them behave in such a way?  The possible blame may be laid at many doors, broken families, poor housing, unemployment, lack of education, government policies over the years or even, whisper it quietly, lack of parental responsibility and influence.

Surely, along with other mindless acts such as minor criminal damage, graffiti, general hooliganism, this all reflects on society as a whole, from top to very bottom.  It was never like this in my childhood, any wanton public act would have been dealt with by the local bobby with either a clip round the ear or a whack from a rolled up cape.  Should such behaviour have been repeated on a number of occasion the culprit(s) could well have found themselves in a juvenile court to be dealt with.  Apart from any judicial sentence the shame brought onto the family would have been generally sufficient to prevent re-occurrence.  As a last resort there were approved schools where offenders were sent if under sixteen and Borstal if over that age.

Today one often hears or reads of multiple offences committed by the same individual over a period of time going relatively unpunished because authority in all its diverse forms seems unable and/or unwilling to deal with these louts.  Perhaps National Service may provide a solution to the problem of lack of self-discipline and respect for self, others and property.

What is certain that this behaviour needs to be eradicated effectively and firmly as soon as possible before social order breaks down completely.  Is any government brave enough to tackle the problem?  I very much doubt it as the wheel has turned too far in favour of namby pamby do-gooders, human rights and the weakening of some legislation which seems to almost protect some wrongdoers.

Another thought in the same direction - what has become of Divvy Macaroon's great personal idea and crusade of the Big Society in recent weeks?  After a much trumpeted relaunch then it seems to have disappeared, become lost, drowned in a sea of voter apathy and cynicism.  Perhaps the idea should be redirected to include anti-social elements at its very core which may then decrease the nation's disregard of it.

Perhaps politicians should look outside of their own sheltered and cloistered realm to other European countries where such behaviour is far less evident and far less tolerated to discover why this may be and apply lessons learned.

Wonders of the Universe

Superb programme with Professor Brian Cox currently showing on BBC2.  Love the programme particularly because Brian Cox explains the normally inexplicable in a very easy to understand way, the various wpictures of the universe are absolutely stunning and finally he does get around to some very distant and odd locations.  He's everyman's Steven Hawking in a very user friendly package!

His choice of locations prompted this article below in Newsthump.com  - what do you think?

I must be on the moon to explain about the moon, Brian Cox tells license fee payers

Professor Brian Cox has defended the increasingly extravagant locations for his Wonders of the Universe series by insisting that if people really want to understand the moon, the BBC needs to put him on the moon.
His new series is explaining the origins of the universe whilst also showing us a number of interesting camera angles of Professor Brian Cox in some of the most expensive-to-reach places on the planet.
Viewer Simon Williams said, “I absolutely love the show, and found his explanation of how nuclear fusion inside dying stars creates all of the heavier elements in the universe absolutely riveting, but did he really need to be demolishing buildings in Brazil to explain it?”
“I’m sure I could make pretty much the same point in the pub with a couple of empties and some random bar snacks.”

Wonders of the Universe extravagant locations

Professor Cox has defended the locations, insisting that seeing him visit amazing places at our expense is an important educational tool.
Cox told reporters, “People will always remember me telling them about the origins of the big bang, because I was at the El Tatio geysers in Chile when I did it.  They’re really expensive to visit you know.”
“Or that I explained how we’re all made of Carbon in the Nepalese capital of Kathmandu. You can’t do that tip on the cheap, let me tell you.”
“And I’m just saying that the Moon is really important, and I need to talk about it, but there’s no point in me talking about it if I’m not actually standing on it.”
“Let’s be honest.  If the BBC can fund Chris Moyles then it can bloody well send me to the moon.”

Things are getting desperate here in deepest southwest rural France.  Having survived the winter with no major disasters the situation is becoming of more than a little concern.  Having laid up what seemed adequate victuals to see us through the cold season  it was realised today that the provisions store is down to the last two Yorkshire Tea Bags and just one single 250g jar of Bovril remaining.  Our wood store for fuel is almost gone but the worst of winter is now hopefully done.  Morale is getting low due to severe withdrawal symptoms due to a lack of Ginster's Cornish Pasties, proper English back bacon and good, strong mature Cheddar cheese.

We have survived yet another winter despite the vicissitudes of life here and eagerly anticipate the first relief column of the spring bringing much needed comfort and essentials from over the water.  Oh what a celebration there will be then!

__________________________________________________________________________________


As most are aware, or have been made aware, tomorrow night sees BBC television hosting yet again Red Nose Day.  Without having looked at alternative viewing on other channels it will probably be a sad mishmash of repeats and so-called reality shows as the opposition invariably seem to abdicate any responsibility for any form of even semi-intelligent programme scheduling knowing that their viewing figures will be at best poor due to the BBC fest.  There is no objection to raising money for charitable causes, levels of domestic Scroogeness have yet to descend to that pitiful depth but why, oh why, is the same tired formula trotted out every year with largely the same old faces arseing about trying overly hard to be what they consider as funny and entertaining.  Is it not time that just a little imagination and invention was applied to the televised event rather than just continuing along the same well worn path?  It could even be that additional viewers may watch and raise ever more money for good causes! 

Instead of suffering Lenny Henry and his cronies lining up yet again to bludgeon us all into submission in the most unsubtle manner we shall be heading off for the safety, security and sanctity of an excellent Chinese restaurant instead, thus retaining our sanity until the annual winter Telethon dictates that we seek refuge again for an evening!  By the way, should you think that this behaviour is extreme then our neighbours are leaving home for the snowy wastes of the Pyrenees for a skiing weekend!

It's that time of year again

Spring, that is.  Or as Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote all those years ago 'In the Spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love.'  Spring with its annual wonders of new little lambs, trees, fields hedgerows, gardens awakening from their winter slumber, already snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils are brightening the place up.

Perhaps in the case of not quite so young men their thoughts turn to a certain mood of foreboding and trepidation as mine have this very morning because without warning the annual round of domestic spring cleaning has begun.  Every room in the house will, in turn, be vacuumed, cleaned, de-cobwebbed, purged of any goods or chattels deemed redundant, obsolete or suffering the minutest trace of damage.  Interference with this ritual is not brooked as it is  viewed in the strongest terms as a 'pink job' with any external influence being unwelcome as it it may detract from the set course of 'clearing out'.

It is the latter objective set by the lady of the house that annually fills me with angst and trepidation.  A year has passed since last the ritual was observed allowing me to arrange personal and important as well as essential  things to my sense of order and convenience resulting in a calm and secure knowledge that I know where things are and can easily be found when needed.  This sense of logic and orderliness is now in the throes of its yearly upheaval, some treasured things may never be seen again should I not be exercise great vigilance in what is potentially being redistributed to the local Red Cross, the rubbish bins or worse the tip.

Once this latest addition to my Blogroll is completed I shall quickly secrete things away in little hiding places where they may gradually be retrieved when needed, all manner of things computer related, books, magazines, special small tools, sundry personal items etc which are essential to a comfortable and well ordered life of a maturer male.

Hopefully this outburst of seasonal domestic activity will be be finished before the Six Nations kicks off again on Saturday afternoon.  Soon some sense of order and calm should be restored allowing life to continue in a form that we know it!  In the meantime it is a case of batten down the hatches, don't panic Mr Mainwaring and steady as she goes bearing a stout heart against adversity ...

Puzzled ...

Just when you think that finally you have a grasp of a particular concept there is often something that happens to make you a little uncertain about that knowledge.  I'll explain a little further on ...

Let's have a look at a hypothetical situation as a way of looking at things.  Mr & Mrs Smith and their two point four little Smithettes live happily in a typical suburban house with a mortgage, he has a good job and she helps out in a charity shop.  Suddenly without warning Mr Smith loses his good job and is sufficiently unfortunate not to receive any redundancy pay or other recompense.  Naturally the families lifestyle will have to downshift considerably very quickly to minimise domestic expenditure as their income is now Job Seekers Allowance etc.

In order to ease the severity of their domestic cutbacks Mr & Mrs Smith seek a loan from their bank with a promise that all will be well with the domestic exchequer within the next four to five years and Mr Smith will be back in afull time and well remunerated position once more.  After some due consideration the bank agrees the loan to the Smith family and things look a little less bleak for them.  This short term injection of funds allows them to continue giving money away to their favourite charities as they have always done as well as to spend on long awaited luxury improvements, a swimming pool, geothermic heating etc.

Shortly afterwards, with Mr Smith still seeking work, a close friend asks if he could borrow a largish sum of money as he suddenly has found himself in financial straits with creditors pressing for payment.  Being a friend of some years standing Mr Smith generously agrees to lend several tens of thousands of pounds to his friend to ease his plight.

The question is would you, dear reader, have done the same as you obviously are not in the best of finacial circumstances to put it mildly, bearing in mind that you are already paying interest on your loan from the bank and are now subsidising a friend, presumably with some return upon said loan.  Would that loan have been more advantageous  in your bank account than that of your friend?

Let's transfer the situation from domestic economics to national economics, those of UK plc.  The island of Turks & Caicos in the sunny Caribbean is well known as a tax haven where many of its residents pay no tax in preference to having UK residency and help funding the government.  The island has recently found itself to be in extreme economic difficulties and asked the British Government for assistance in ts straitened times.  This request was made bearing in mind that the UK government has been forced to borrow billions of pounds to repay incurred debts and shortfalls of various kinds.  In short a loan of £126 million was agreed to bale out a little island nation, which undoubtedly was very gratefully accepted.

Let's return a little closer home - if you were up to your ears in debt would you lend money to someone over a period of years?  Of course you would not because it does not make economic sense to do so.

Having latterly gained a good degree in an area which included some economics I thought that I had a reasonable grip on basic economics in the modern age.  Apparently, according to Mr Cameron et al, I do not.  Heaven forbid that the British citizenry follow the example of their leaders and decision makers because the road to ruin would become ever closer.  It is the economics of the madhouse!

And that, faithful reader, is why I am puzzled ...

Crap on the Tele Pt 2

Still not a request or command, thank you!  The number of semi-intelligent programmes seems to be declining almost weekly in favour of populist, audience grabbing reality shows, daft game shows where the ability not to answer questions correctly but to be falsely over enthusiastic is paramount, endless antiques Trash in the Attic/Bargain Hunt facsimiles and those devoted to buying, selling &/or auctioning property type offerings.  What on earth has happened to sensible and intelligent programming on the nation's television channels?

Due to the ever burgeoning Murdoch empire terrestrial broadcasting has lost cricket, most rugby matches, much motorsport and many other sporting fixtures.  It is understood from friends that there is some intelligent and informative programming produced and available through Sky TV such as the History and Discovery channels etc.  Due to the dearth of what we consider reasonable programmes on terrestrial channels we have reached a decision that we have always said would never be taken by us  - finally we have subscribed to to Sky Sports and Knowledge channels.  Sky certainly does offer things to interest and entertain us especially during the winter months when our local community hibernates.

In one way I can grudgingly offer a mite of thanks to Murdoch for these programmes but in another I say 'Damn Murdoch' for his overarching greed and desire to dominate world media!

Economic woes and despair

As a war baby I grew up in an era of rationing and shortages but it was largely a happy time, as I recall, only marred by the premature death of my mother.  Finally in the early fifties the last vestiges of rationing ceased with sweets and bread freely available.  The country and economy was prospering and blooming as disposable income grew.  It grew to the point that in the early sixties the then Prime Minister Harold Macmillan, aka 'Supermac',  famously declared in an election campaign that "you've never had it so good".

From that perceived highlight of postwar Britain it was only a few short years until 1964 when the Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson who was under great economic and political pressure devalued the pound sterling by twenty five per cent overnight whilst proudly proclaiming that the pound in your pocket was still worth one pound.  From thereon it was on the slippery slope to 1967 and the 'Sunny' Jim Callaghan administration where interest rates soared to an astonishing twenty seven per cent and the country was under the rigid control of the International Monetary Fund, suffering all manner of harsh industrial action and social deprivations.

The country gradually clawed its way out of this economic and social hell with yet another change of government, this time led by Ted Heath only to disappoint as further economic woes followed shortly and he was replaced by Margaret Thatcher. She was but a humble grocer's daughter from middle England, trained as an industrial chemist and thus apparently eminently qualified to oversee UK plc and its people.

Thatcher wanted change and espoused the theory of monetarism as propounded by one Alan Walters, not an elected representative of the people but a 'personal adviser' to her.  His vision of the future was enthusiastically implemented by the Iron Lady with wholesale privatisations, the destruction of British industry, the emasculation of trades unions and ever greater political divides between right and left political factions.  All on the whole proudly proclaimed claimed as progress towards a more equitable society.

Suddenly there was another national economic crisis in the early eighties leading to yet another damaging and divisive recession from which the country slowly and gradually staggered to recovery.  All this economic, social and personal misery gradually gave way to an air of quiet optimism fromthe  political masters and population in general.  Only a short ten years later there was yet another damaging recession which to some extent caused Thatcher's downfall and the election of the much promising John Major.  Unfortunately like many of his predecessors he promised much and returned very little  positive outcome, in fact yet another triumph of aspiration over reality.

Eventually the country at large grew disenchanted with right wing politics and elected a new and seemingly bright shining star, Tony Blair.  Under his patronage came a new Chancellor of the Exchequer who reigned for some ten years or so promising the end of the boom and bust cycle for the British economy, a truly Utopian ideal.

You do not need to guess what comes next do you?  That's right, yet another recession under Brown's stewardship of the nation's finances and then as Prime Minister.  Not just any ordinary recession but one of hugely destructive proportions nationally but globally due to the coincidence of financial meltdown in America.  This latest economic holocaust was generally deemed to be as bad if not worse than the Great Depression some eighty odd years previously.

If governments are to be believed then currently things are gradually improving and within a few years all in the garden will be rosy again.  The question inevitably is for how long this time?  From all of the commonly available indicators it is looking increasingly likely that a further recessionary period is imminent despite political reassurances as to the contrary.

It should be pointed out that this is not intended in any way shape or form as a political rant decrying one wing of political dogma in favour of another, hopefully this is an objective and apolitical comment.

The principal question that all of the foregoing raises, apart from why should ordinary citizens continually and cyclically suffer the misery and despair that these economic upheavals bring,  It is more than blindingly obvious that the current and pre-existing regimes do not work, they are totally dysfunctional.  Other systems have been tried and largely failed, witness communism in all of its various manifestations, dictatorships of various degrees and brutality, in fact it would seem that most political systems are at best ineffective and somewhat lackiing in respect of the wishes and aspirations of ordinary people, the very people that in many cases have placed these machines in power!

My whole life has been subjected to these violent, disturbing politcal and economic forces never much more than a decade apart.  The impact just on my own financial, social life and work has been enormous in many cases totally negating any attempt at some form of planning for the future to bring security and stability to my little world.  Multiply this effect to include the entire population and the effects made and it must truly devastating on a national scale.  Obviously the macro economic situation suffers even worse. 

There must be, surely there has to be a better way then the seemingly never ending seesawing, roller coaster cycle which bedeviled the last century and would seem to be about to promulgate more of the same for this epoc.  Please do not ask what I foresee as a new way forward to a new world, there are far superior intellects in life who cannot devise a suitable solution.  What is certain that the old ways have failed and that change is sorely needed.

There is a quote that comes to mind that 'Britain is the mother of all parliaments', by very extension surely it is therefore the home of democracy.  If this be the case then perhaps Britain should look to the past, learn from history and return democracy to where it belongs in the very hands of its citizens because apart from every general election democracy is blatantly ignored by those in power who were put ther by the people.  Perhaps it is time time to remind those in power that they hold that very power to carry out the wishes of the people, not for those in power to force the people to fulfill their political aims and ideals.

English or French?

No, not a choice of restaurant or wine but a state of mind.  Having lived in rural southwest France now for six years the thought occasionally passes as to whether I consider myself to be English or French.  Having lived in England for almost sixty years before we came here I never questioned as to my thoughts on such matters except that occasionally there was a slight hint of being European in an odd sort of way.

The relatively few years spent here, only ten per cent or so of my life,  have gone very quickly, possibly because everything is new with so much to learn and experience in a totally different culture to that of my previous life.  Obviously a major change is language something which was and still is challenging but I have adapted and learnt and am able now to converse, read and write fairly fluently, thanks in great part to our local community who are very tolerant of English idiots trying to speak French.

Gradually it became apparent that there were many other differences between the two cultures which it was essential to understand if only to make life as uncomplicated as it needed to be.  One major difference is the French lunch hour, well, two or three hours in most instances, except for hypermarkets, everywhere shuts for lunch.  Sunday shopping is almost unknown over here and is still treated as a special day of the week where families and friends get together.  Some degree of personal change was need to find these shopping hours not inconvenient but it just took a little foresight and planning on my part.

Another difference is in eating habits and diet, we now eat much more fresh meat, fruit and vegetables because much of the produce is locally sourced and grown.  Along with this change came the delight of occasionally eating out and discovering new dishes and ingredients which we have espoused wholeheartedly.  In short we now eat better, more healthily and more cheaply than we ever did before and buy very little processed or ready meals.  Wine, oh yes, wine!  There are several excellent wine growing areas locally, some of international renown, all producing superb wines at prices we could only dream of before!

Generally the local people are very polite and friendly, polite and welcoming even if somewhat slow to become friends - that is nothing personal but the way that things are done around here.  Whether in shops or in our village people always greet with a warm 'Bonjour', even strangers will do so.  There is no reluctance to make eye contact or to exchange smiles in passing something which was found yo be totally alien back there.

I could go on and on about differences and the way that my life has changed in the past few years but I shall not.  Again I ask the the question as to whether I am English or French, the reply is an  unequivocal 'FRENGLISH'!

Scientific breakthrough

Some years ago I visited Black's Outdoor Store in High Holborn to buy some tent pegs and a few other bits and pieces and noticed in the backpacking section a great selection of dehydrated foods.  It is obvious why such things appeal to backpacker fraternity because the heaviest item to carry is water especially in tins of prepared food.  One item that struck me as a superb idea were packets of dehydrated water weighing virtually nothing but containing all the necessary salts and minerals to make a good quality drinking water.

The instructions were quite simple:  empty contents of packet into a two pint saucepan or billy, add one and three quarter pints of water, bring to the boil stirring occasionally.  Let simmer for three minutes and you will have a litre of perfectly good drinking water.  Simples!

Later that evening at the weekly TOMCC meet in the depths of Epping Forest I told some clubmates about this new product who were fascinated by the idea, so much so that one intimated that he would visit a local branch of that shop and buy some!

Australian Floods

The live images carried by the media of the devastating floods in Queensland make for terrifying viewing and thanks that it is not us in that awful situation.  My thoughts are with them and a desire to help in some way rendered totally impotent by distance and logistics.  Hopefully most people will be covered by insurance but for the unprotected they are left in a truly desperate situation.

This led me to ponder if any of the insurers may reject claims because they are seen as ‘an act of God’.  No doubt some may try to abdicate responsibility by means of this dubious subterfuge but hopefully not. 

My musings wandered further to wondering whether this counter claim would be rejected by atheists, after all if there is no over-arching being then how can such devastation be deemed an act of God?   Perhaps if challenged it may lead to a potentially interesting court case and what might be the possible outcome.

The mind, as it it is wont to do, continued this train of thought a little further.  It is obviously true to say that advertising a product sells that product because without that publicity the product would remain unknown.  Any such advertising is obviously at the behest of the manufacturer or creator who wishes to maximise the potential return on their efforts.  One source of publicity is by endorsement, not by celebrities, but by satisfied users who are prepared to say the goods do exactly what it says on the tin.

If, as some believe, there is an omnipresent deity then why does this entity not advertise personally rather than have others espousing the cause by proxy?  An even better endorsement would be if a satisfied user were to return from the ultimate destination of their faith and proclaim loud and long that the product does indeed work.

I for one have yet to see nor hear of any such claim in the face of which I shall be vehemently challenging any claim of an act of God that may come my way ...

Her Majety's Royal Mail

Before Xmas Her Majesty's Royal mail warned that there might be slight delays in delivered due to inclement weather.  Yesterday a package arrived from Kent by 1st class mail that was posted on 8 December, today another, 1st class again, posted on 3 December from Hertfordshire.  Naturally I checked with the senders of these items and all assured that they had indeed been sent.  Next step was to check with La Poste who assured me that any delay was due to their UK counterparts.  Even given my slightly impaired mobility I could have walked here with both of those packages in considerably less time. 

Have been on the phone to Royal Mail today to complain bitterly about their utter ineptitude and hopefully to find out what the hell is going on over there.  Having been referred and transferred any number of times to the 'right department' I was finally told that they are not responsible as I am an overseas recipient and as such they have no liability for delays, losses etc.

There is the makings of a bill going through Parliament today to privatise the Royal Mail, mercifully so I believe.  What a totally inept, incompetent shower of tossers they are.  I never ever thought that I would say these words 'Roll on privatisation'.

Apropos of my last post

Mark Twain once said of the New Year, "Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual."

Happy New Year - everyone!

New Year and all that ...

As perhaps many do at this time of year I'v been thinking at odd moments about New Year, what is it and why?  Obviously it is the beginning of another year, time marches on relentlessly and  it is obviously such an important event for many folk to celebrate in whichever way that they may choose.

When I was a lad and then a callow youth living in England I could never understand the fuss that the Scots made about it, even less comprehend the traditional television broadcasts of Moira Stewart, Jimmy Shand and His Band etc.  As for the odd practices such as knocking on stranger's doors after midnight and offering them coal that was just too much!  Even after my teens the turn of the year was insignificant to me except that I thought it rather unfair that those north of the border had a Bank Holiday that we sassenachs did not enjoy.

Later it became the 'in thing' to receive invitations to parties from family and friends which were accepted as part of the social scene and not wishing to become a pariah.  There is only one New Year's Eve that I found  particularly enjoyable at a bash given by friends from a motorcycle club, otherwise I was left generally unmoved.

So why this personal indifference?  Well, the whole party thing of being with some folk that you know and like as well as probably many others who do not fit into that category can be a bit of a trial, too crowded, music not necessarily to taste and invariably too loud as to make any normal conversation at best difficult, excessive alcohol consumption and all that goes with it and finally trying to hold a glass on one hand, a paper plate of assorted bits and pieces in the other and always a paucity of seating.  Me a grump?  Quite possibly ...

Recent years for us the revels have changed, usually a quite evening with or at friends homes culminating in sincere greetings at the witching hour all round.  there is never any pressure to stay until sillyo'clock in the morning, guests leave as they wish.  Best bit is that the Auld Lang Syne thing does not rear it's ugly head
at all.

So what else does the turn of the year mean?  It makes think back of what has passed, good times, bad times, new friends made and others no longer with us. There is a forward looking aspect too in trying unsuccessfully to divine what the forthcoming months may bring and reveal, more an exercise of hope and futility in a way.  As for resolutions that idea was forsaken many years ago except for one and that is always broken as soon as it has been made.  What is it, oh yes, the resolution not to make any more resolutions!  See what I mean?  Broken as soon as made.

What I suppose I am saying is that I am content to celebrate in my own way, some may say curmudgeonly, but that is my choice!

Spooky - or what?

Some say that flirting with unknown forces may be dangerous, others that there are no such things and that it is a matter of individual choice as to whether such things exist or not as well as to become involved or not with such.  From this rather vague opening remark it is hoped to relate a personal experience of strange and maybe unexplained events.  Please bear with me ...

One Tuesday evening in mid-March we were using a Ouija board at home, this was not the first occasion as it had been used many times before.  After a number of inconsequential contacts through the board a very positive one was made, this one eventually gave his name as 'Pa'.  Seemingly at first nothing remotely unusual in that many men over the years had been known as Pa by family and friends.  When asked "Pa who?" there was a response of "Norton".  Now the name of Pa Norton definitely  meant something as he was the founder of the Norton motorcycle manufacturers in the early twentieth century.  Just for those who do not know me I have been involved with motorcycles in one way or another for over almost sixty years now, they are an abiding passion.

It just so happened that only a few weeks before we had bought a Norton racing sidecar with the idea of racing it, what else?  The morning after this Ouija board session we were off to Snetterton circuit in Norfolk for a practice day for a shakedown for us and the bike.

Back to the Tuesday evening - our next request for any message was met very quickly and vigorously with the planchette speeding from letter to letter spelling out D-A-N-G-E-R.  The next message was C-A-U-T-I-O-N and that was the end of contact with Pa Norton.

The outfit had been stripped and rebuilt by us over the previous weeks with any necessary work carried out and we were happy that we had not missed anything at all.  The Wednesday morning found us at the circuit, after preliminary safety checks and warming up the engine we went onto the track for some exploratory laps to get used to the machine and satisfy ourselves that there was nothing amiss.   Returning to the paddock various checks and minor adjustments were made, fuel topped up and off we went again with the idea of improving lap times.  Having completed half a dozen laps or so top engine revs were being used on the faster parts of the circuit and our times were falling.  Crossing the start/finish line something suddenly felt different about the handling of the outfit, probably imagination.  Near the apex of the next corner, a right hander, it became apparent that it was not in my mind, there was definitely something wrong as the bike wanted to go straight on rather than turn, the effort involved just to stay on tarmac was huge.  After what seemed an eternity we got onto the straight and pulled off.  Quick inspection showed nothing significant, no puncture apparent which was the obvious possible fault so slowly we returned to the paddock.  After a quick discussion the fairing was removed and a thorough check begun particularly around the steering and front forks where the fault was obvious - the brazed joints of the frame to the steering head were all cracked, thus the difficult steering.  Presumably the fault was either due to poor brazing which was unlikely as the frame etc around that area was original factory brazes or caused by a previous crash unknown to us.  That was that then, unfortunately an abrupt end to any further testing and a visit the next day to the man with the brazing torch.

Pa Norton was right that there was danger, the end result could have been very serious for us both.  As far as strange forces are concerned there is little personal choice but to accept that such things certainly exist and something for which I am more than grateful.

Maybe a little more in this vein may follow ...

Nothing really ...

Haven't written anything since last Saturday for a couple of reasons: the first that there appears to be a severe attack of writer's block ongoing making it difficult for the creative juices to flow especcially about nothing; the second is that until yesterday there was no Interweb connection from my provider due to difficulties occasioned by the extreme weather in the north of the country.  Admittedly that we live only some two hundred miles away from the Spanish border and that as the more astute will realise is nowhere near the northern part of the country but my provider's central distribution is, just outside Paris in fact.  Now all is restored to normal service - thankfully!

It is only when something that is taken for granted and then taken away that the realisation comes of how important that now missing something is, in this instant  t'Interweb.  Instead of being absorbed with assorted forae, emails and other diversions there suddenly was this yawning great chasm each day of just so many hours to fill.  Too cold to go out into the workshop not spend time outside in any other way, thankfully the portent of Christmas intervened in some measure with joyful hours passed in various retail establishments whilst gathering sustenance for the festival and last minute gifts.  Even more thankfully during the course of these forays there is always a welcoming café for a decent coffee and a browse of the newspaper.

An idea occurred whilst in one of the huge hypermarkets arising from the presence of créche facilities for harrassed mothers with youngsters to safely deposit kids and shop unhindered, why not have a grown-up créche for husbands where wives can safely leave t'other half and likewise enjoy unhindered retail therapy.  requirements could really be quite modest for such an establishment, decent coffee or beer, comfortable easy chairs, a selection of suitable reading material, television showing a variety of programmes and of course appropriate staff for such a place.  Now how many men would be only too happy to go shopping given such inducements?  Me for one ...

Amazing isn't it?  Set out to write nothing and what happens?  A further outpouring of assorted, miscellaneous drivel!  Oh well, back to the concept of creating nothing ...

Seasonal Greetings ...

... From us, Tigger & Fudge.

Driving advice

Heard on Sky News this morning from a driving expert from the AA - "If your car gets stuck then use the floor mats under the wheels to gain traction and get under way again".

Great advice, unless you think about it. A rubber tyre on ice has little traction as we all know, a tyre on a mat will have greater traction than on ice, obvious ennit? Now interpose said mat between tyre and ice and try to drive off . Assuming that the scheme works and you are moving then how do you retrieve the mat? Obvious, stop, get out put mat back in car and drive away. Ah, problem - no grip so get out put mat under wheel again ... ad infinitum.

Reality - tyre grips mat which slips on ice thus propelling it rearwards at some rate of knots into the air landing down the road a few yards.  If everyone tried this the road would look like a demonstration of flying carpets in Baghdad :lol:

Great theory but it does not work. How do I know? Just trust me on this one ...

'Ello, 'Ello, 'Ello - Part 2

Just two tales today, one amusing and almost worthy of the Keystone Cops, the other at the opposite end of the scale as far as that scale goes.

One warm, pleasant summer's evening a fellow Special and I were making our way back to the station for what in the job are known as refreshments and anticipating a decent cuppa. As we turned the corner into a main road only a couple of hundred yards away from our break we saw a car parked on the zig-zag lines on the approach side of a pedestrian crossing adjacent to which there was a pub of a certain local reputation. The vehicle was checked for tax disc etc while I went into the pub to find the driver. My polite request for the driver of this car, a MkII Jaguar was met with a somewhat rude and belligerent response from two men seated near the door. After several requests from me, eachh stronger in tone, they came out and rudely demanded what was going on. My colleague explained the error of their ways in quite reasonable terms with the simple intent of getting the driver to move his car some thirty or so yards along the road so as to be clear of the crossing.

Seemingly they both wished to return to their beer in the pub and refused very pointedly and suggested that we might like to go away and do something useful. I asked for appropriate documents, unsurprisingly none were forthcoming but a torrent of further invective was instead. When asked what the car boot contained we were told that it was none of our business. By this time the two 'gentlemen' were talking themselves into being nicked, especially when both declined to furnish any personal details. My fellow officer went to open the boot and the driver of the car roughly pulled him away whilst offering further advice to us both. So what started just as a polite enquiry and request was now escalating into something potentially ugly. Both were again warned that further hindering the police in the course of enquiries would lead to arrest and possible court action. Yet again our desire to ease the situation was bluntly rejected.

Just at this moment the station van turned the corner, stopping to ask if all was OK or did we need any assistance which we readily accepted. The two inquestion were briefly spoken to by the other officers and arrested due to their lack of co-operation. When asked again to open the car boot one did so after some altercation revealing a blanket over some items in there. When the blanket was removed a sawn off shotgun and another shotgun as well, examination showed that both were loaded.

To cut this tale short the two villains, as it turned out that indeed they were, were on very unsafe ground - one was out on licence from prison for violence, the other had a number of outstanding warrants against him for non-appearance in court. So really a simple parking offence led to the arrest and return to jail of one and the other receiving a jail sentence for this and other outstanding offences. Two nasty pieces of work out of circulation in one evening, not bad!

It was only whilst writing up our notes etc over a well earned cuppa that the possible enormity of a very different outcome was realised.

Now for the other tale. Just before midnight one autumn Friday evening a mobile unit was called to a domestic break in, the property was in a quiet white collar residential area. By the time that the unit arrived the burglar had left with his haul. Several local people said that a furtive figure had been seen heading towards the local park, quite large and fenced, secured at night except for umpteen holes in the railings and fences. Various units answered to go to the park and the search began.

One of the features of this particular park are several large shrubberies and one or two are quite dense. Reasoning that a fugitive burglar might choose to hide in the undergrowth those areas were targeted for a search. It was a very dark night with no moon not helped by a lack og lighting within the park. Obviously we all had torches and radios to keep in touch but it was deemed that radio silence was essential to avoid giving our positions away. Quite how that was arrived at is unclear but some dozen or so heavy footed police officers crashing about in the undergrowth was sufficient to alert anyone as their positions.

Suddenly there was a shout which seemed to indicate that a capture had been made. Indeed it had but in the almost Stygian darkness an officer could easily be confused for our burglar - this was the case, the unfortunate 'burglar' bought down by a heavy rugby tackle which resulted in a broken collar bone. Several more false alarms with other officers being apprehended followed culminating in one being bundled into the boating lake. Silent approach? The whole episode was reminiscent of a herd of rampaging elephants!

Oh, almost forgot, the burglar was not found and the end was called eventually to this event. Not one of the finest searches in the history of a certain North London police station.

Red tape

I want to buy a couple of stationery items, some card pin badges and some microperforated card for address cards. Cannot find anything like in any of the hypermarkets, stationery retail stores are as scarce as hen's teeth in our little bit of France. The obvious thing is to buy online, a quicj Google search finds quite a number of online stores. Great stuff ...

So I explored the first hit, they have exactly what I want at prices that I like, put them in the virtual shopping basket and proceed to the checkout. Easy so far. Filled in the usual required details etc and went to pay. Instead of the payment screen The details one reappeared, apparently I had missed something on there. Having checked it showed that I needed to enter a Siret number, that effectively is a business registration number which as a private individual I do not have. Tried entering a series of numbers of the appropriate length and on to payment again - still no joy.

Oh well, back to Google and another online store. Come the payment bit and again the same problem, so a few more sites were tried, each with the same result.

Now to Plan B, go to a UK site such as Staples or Office World, both of whom had the desired items. Towards the end of the transaction both stated quite clearly that items will noy be sent outside of the UK. This nothing unusual as many retailers online will not psot to Europe. Why for heavens sake? There is no additional paperwork now thanks to the EU only extra postage, no customs formalities nor anything else.

So, here am I totally frustrated and wanting to support French businesses and I cannot because of red tape. UK companies do not want my meager trade either for different reasons.


AAAARRRGGH!