A used car sting, but this used car is going to stay around for a bit

It's been a few weeks since I bought my used car and now I've learnt an expensive lesson one which could have been avoided and nearly was, but nearly doesn't cut it. It should have been avoided. However, in the sense of learning and understanding I sure as hell have learnt a lot. For instance, don't trust a used car salesman, this should be stamped and tattooed into every buyers mind. If you're only spending out a few hundred quid, then it probably doesn't matter at all. If it's going to be in the thousands then buyer beware it is. As always the problem was heart and mind were in conflict and I bought without engaging the cogs as much as I should. The nearly part comes in because I had considered getting the car independently checked out by a mechanic. I'd even done some online checks to find organizations and people who would do this. The AA do it. It was the week before the booked test drive when all this had gone on in my mind. I really should have thought about it more, driven the car and said the salesman I'd like to get my own independent mechanics check of the vehicle. The issue of this was being a bit tight and thinking to myself it would be another £140 quid ontop of what I was already paying. They were subtle, unfortunately poor experience with cars and poor knowledge meant they were not picked up on. There is nothing like a novice idiot, a newby, someone without knowledge who is waiting to be screwed over. As I already know, the most powerful engine in a car is the one in the driver's head, if they don't use their brain it is nothing more than a chunk of metal driving at velocity and with little in the way of control.

It was the issue of control which made me get Lucy (car) checked out. She had three different sets of tyres on. This was one of those subtle hints, for the tyres were probably amongst the cheapest available. Car control in the wet was worrying for it just felt like it was aquaplaning. The more I think about it, why would someone just get the cheapest tyres available? The previous owner was a woman and she didn't drive the car much. It was likely just used as a run around. Her husband (I guess) was alright with keeping the car roadworthy but wasn't going to put his hand in his pocket to get premium goods. Except when it came to the service. For they had gone out of their way to get a very expensive service 8 months prior to part exchanging it. A service which was three times more costly than a normal service. Perhaps the problem is people who put their car in for service think the mechanics will give it a full check to see if it is mechanically sound as well. Maybe they think if there was something of concern then the mechanics would point it out and say "hey the thing over there needs replacing."  Certainly on a service which cost £400 when the normal costs should be in the region of £145. Then perhaps again at service Lucy was checked over and perhaps the then owner knew there were things which had to be replaced and repaired thinking it better to get rid of the car and buy another. It makes me a bit mad, not absolutely crazy mad, just a bit mad, because the faults lay with me, the seller and with the previous owner. Primarily me because I shouldn't have bought the bloody thing, or rather wouldn't have bought the bloody thing. Mind, here a little emotional attachment comes in. For I do actually like to drive Lucy. It is an experience I enjoy. An experience which has now cost me an additional £1100 in repair costs.

So, I contacted National Tyres and spoke to the local branch, my question stemmed on whether to fit wider tyres on the car than it already had. The simple reply was no, the young man on the phone seemed to know his stuff and said he'd previously worked for Fiat, the maker of my car. Now even though the car's manual indicated it would take a further 10 mm width than the one's already on there his view was to stick with the same width because the tyres could mushroom, which I took to mean bow out to the sides if they didn't correctly fit the rims. Shortly after I ordered four premium grade all season all weather tyres, it might be summer here but in the instances when it rained the current tyres felt slippery. The new ones would make all the difference. National Tyres ran me up a day after the internet order and I spoke to the same chap I'd previously spoken to, it was then I also asked if he could check out the breaks. It wouldn't cost any more.which was good news.

I took a day off, delivered the car and then went off for a walk and a coffee waiting on a call back in an hour or so. It was the phone call back that came as a bit of a shock. He said he had checked the breaks but while at it also checked other parts of the car. The exhaust was rusted and needed replacing, the back passenger side break only had one millimetre of wear left and had to be replaced, the rear shocks were leaking fluid and cracked. On tallying up the cost of this he quoted £1300. My reaction was to swear in shock and say the show room had given the car a check over telling me the breaks were good for another 12,000 miles. They'd also done their own pre-inspection prior to letting it leave the show room. An expection which couldn't of been much cop. I know now I will not buy my next car from there which was going to be my future plan. I know now this car will have to last a minimum of two years before I get my next. I also know I am skint. After my shock at the initial start of the conversation, I was offered a discount and so £200 was knocked of the price of the repairs. the new tyres which were already bough cost in excess of £300. So taking a day off work, getting the car sorted and up to scratch had totaled in an additional cost of £1400. This is just over half the value of the car when I bought it. So lets look at the costs so far:

£2700 purchase of car
£1000 fully comprehensive insurance and one year break down cover
  £300 new tyres
£1100 repairs, new rear shocks, new exhaust new breaks front and back.
£5500 Total costs

The handling now of Lucy is quite a bid different than it used to be. I no longer have to depress the brake pedal all the way down for it to stop. The steering feels stiffer, which is odd but is probably a good thing, I put this down to the new tyres and the fact they now actually have substantially more hold. The old tyres did have a lot of grip left, between 7 mm and 4 mm, but they were economy class. For some reason the back of the car seat feels higher up, this must be related to the rear shocks which have probably raised the rear end making the seat support my back more. Previously the seat felt low but now it does feel a little higher and a little better. Lastly the hand break also feels stiffer and like the break pedal which only needs a small amount of pressure before I can feel the car slow down now the hand break becomes stiff and engaged after pulling it up no more than about three inches. Before it was a matter of yanking the thing as high as I could to be sure it had engaged.

In parking on a hill I was advised the car should be put in either reverse gear or first gear. The young man I spoke to said he knew the break would hold but it was best to keep it in gear when on a hill. This advise is something I will take to heart and change my parking/driving preference. After I collected Lucy I had a migraine, it had began in the morning even before the events of the day took place and as the day went on it go worse, it has nearly lifted now. I would say about 36 hours of head pain.

I have learnt a hell of a lot from this experience and I know from this there is a lot to driving and knowing cars than I could have ever considered before. When I learn things like this on my own, then the lesson is tougher, but it sure sticks as well. Now me and Lucy are engaged, I better not let Sparkling Eyes know she'll kill me.

 

Learning to be a driver with Lucy

About 27 years ago I owned a mini, having bought it from a car auction. Unfortunately it was a bad experience after a matter one just one week things began to go wrong. The steering suddenly became pretty loose, then the clutch went and after having some work done on it pushing the clutch down was like kicking a medicine ball. In an attempt to try and find out what else was wrong with the thing I managed to get a friend of a friend to see if it would pass an MOT. After which I was then told the rear suspension had also gone. The only thing I could do then was to have the car towed back home. After a short while I returned it to the car auction and of course this was a loss 50% of it's value had been lost and my thoughts were there really was no need for me to have a car any further. I could get a bus to work and the thing just seemed to be a money pit. It made good financial sense, my foray into the world of personal mobility was not more.

This event meant there was no real opportunity for me to gain driving experience. Proudly I had passed my test first time and there had not been many people I'd heard of who managed this, but not actually driving really meant I had never been a driver. It is I believe a skill which takes time to learn and a certain awareness. Understanding the road, your car and the rules of the road, not forgetting there are also many drivers who also pretty poor. They will do things which are inappropriate but get away with them. I have now bought my own car and am practising driving, doing my best to understand the car and to improve my skills, there is a mixture of apprehension, fear and excitement as well as a good feeling which comes about by just driving and enjoying it. I do have to concentrate a lot while driving but I also do find it is something I like to do.

The initial fear has been getting into the car on my own, I have no one to guide me and have not considered asking work colleagues. Most days I do get in and do have a drive, even if the drive is a short one of only a couple of miles. But in my mind it is a necessity I must get out and do it. After all what is the use of having a car which is doing nothing but getting dusty in the garage. It's cost a lot of money and more than a third of the cost has gone on insurance. A ridiculous amount but is understandable, there is a greater risk for a driver who has no driving years under the belt.

Learning the ABC of getting around is slow, so for the time being I keep to as many local roads as possible, stretching the boundary of my known area gradually. Not knowing where to go is a pain.  It is bad enough driving but trying to recognise the roads and directions after hours on google maps is just as difficult. The matter of confidence is not just one of driving skills it is also one of knowledge. As a consequence I've spent hours looking at satnavs on youtube and have been reading up reviews. Yet also having a satnav in the car and following it's directions would no doubt be another skill to learn. Further roads today are a lot different from roads so long ago. There appear to be many more traffic rules than there used to be, many more speed restrictions and certainly a load more humps in the road. In the first week I may well have broken a couple of speed limits and could of been captured on camera, but so far there have been no brown envelopes in the door. I wonder if it is a matter of time before they turn up as perhaps the car has not been registered yet by the DVLC and the postman is presently holding on to them. We'll see, for it is not only a tomtom I've been checking out in my spare time. Camera laser detectors as well.

So about three weeks have passed. My car who I now refer to as Lucy is beautiful, she might be a few years old but she is beautiful in my eyes. She is a fiat grande punto eleganza and gets whistled at every time I see her.

Big Brother 1017 - Joe the prick

Every word that comes from Joes mouth is of an uneducated moron, a man in his late 50s who has a problem speaking the English language and you can't help but wonder if this guy bothered to attend school when he was growing up. Joe is only a slightly older than me, but his demeanng behaviour towards Rebecca telling her she irritated him, but not saying he didn't like her is the behaviour of a complete and utter dick head.It seems there is a consensus on Joe being as thick as two short planks for even the Sun newspaper calls him a moron. Which is pretty ironic as the Sun is for right wing racist bigotted morons anyway. Joe no doubt is one of their readers. In this episode we saw Rebecca accept the bait and rage against Joe, quite rightly as well, if however she'd had a few more years of age she might of come up with a humours and biting backlash. She was taken by surprise by Joe's frankness. But what can you expect from a moron who really should not of been on BB 2017 in the first place anyway.

What Rebecca has is intelligence, and youth being on the better side of her 30s. She is a self made business woman and in her outburst she also chastised her best buddy Keiron. He didn't go to her defence or support her when he should of. I felt sorry for Rebecca because all she really needed was someone to listen to her, and let her get those negative emotions off her chest. Further she needed someone to call Joe a fucking Prick. Joe sat quietly while Rebecca was losing it. It was the mark of someone who was just thinking, in his case this is a difficult thing to do but he most likely was thinking. His only reaction was when Rebecca asked how he would feel about it if someone said what he said to his daughter. This was a valid response, it was a challenge and in effect a reflection on Joe to try and understand what he just did. Given Joe is now included in the next set of eviciton nominees this week is going to be an exciting one. Rebecca I hope stays, while Joe has got to go. After all he is a complete prick.

Big Brother 2017 - Imran and Sukvinder go

Well another series of Big Brother is back, and within two weeks we've seen the loss already of a number of contestants.  This week however we saw Imran get voted out and Sukvinder decided of her own accord she would go as well. Thank heavens. For Sukvinder has come across as an emotionally unstable brdering psyychotic personality. Everything has to be her way and what should of been Imran's exit was gate crashed by her. Now to Imran.

Imran had engineered himself as the mediator type personality, the father and husband who could have a good time, but in reality besides having Sukvinder as his wife, he came across as bland. Mind he is not out to tear his clothes off and show off his body because he's married, he's not out to try and impress anyone except his own wife. What we saw from Imran was a man dedicated to his wife but perhaps also present in this dedication was an element of controlling personality. Yes, he was always there for her but in one incident to do with Sukvinder hiding a bottle of wine and insisting it was so she could pull it out and share it with her friends, Imran did make a judgement of Suki, he did indicate she should not of done it. Further his downfall was he failed to actually listen to her, Sukvinder's emotional stability got worse and she had a full melt down come near breakdown. It was at this time I wondered whether they could sustain their relationship. However, within a few hours they are cuddling together and Suki is crying.

In the BB house Imran was voted up for nomination and it was noticeable how some housemates thought he ignored them on purpose and didn't want to engage with them, Kayleigh, Rebecca and Chantelle all alluded to his behaviour. It was as though he came across as aloof, a trait which may be considered epidemic amongst males who practice the religion of Islam. Maybe, maybe not. I also might be that he genuinely found these younger girls held no interest for him at all so would not be bothered to engage in any kind of getting to know you discussion. Or it might of been because he was aware Sukvinder could take it as if he were trying to chat up younger females and go all psycho, the likes of an arguement which could not be shown on any TV. I could see her now chasing after the women with a recently sharpened carving knife not helping herself if she went on a murderous spree. At the end of it she'd feel completely justified.

Just as there was a clearly viewable dark side to Sukvinder there was a less obvious dark side to Imran, the BB supporters and voters chose wisely and more so for a single vote they evicted two. Now Big Brother is down two contestants as Arthur walked out as well and if it continues then BB 2017 would end two weeks early. So given it has just started my betting is two more new housemates are about to come in, if not there must be at least one more. This to has been in part confirmed by Emma Willetts on BBOTS Friday 16.06.17. Emma would not spill the beans because it's her job the question will when are the new housemates going into the house?

Princess J is 4 today

Today will be Princess J's 4th birthday and she is really growing up. I had the pleasure of being her best pal most of yesterday, this was a very important job which began early in the morning. When she decided she would wake me up having spent the night sleeping with her Gaga, Pops had been regaled to the spare room. I could hear her outside the door saying she wanted to wake pops. So to help her out the kindle was hidden under a pillow and I pretended to be asleep. The door creaked open and little feet marched towards the bed, her voice gently called out "Pops, Pops" no movement. A little bit of fake snoring was thrown in. Princess climbs on the bed and looks straight into my face again "Pops, wake up" some more snoring and now her little button has been pressed because the go softly treatment is over with. She shouts "Pops, wake up!" Of course at this point who would not wake up?

The entire morning I'd become Princess J's best play friend. It meant being shot with a water spray and running away from her as she giggled uncontrollably, holding down the sea-saw and swing at the end of the garden as she went up and down as high as she could possibly go while the legs of the fruniture did their best to pull out of the grass. Then there was the hour or so run on the local children park, again up and down on swings, and round and round on an assortment of playground kiddy toys. Followed a a few rolls down a small grass hill and the intermingled game of trying to keep Princess J's summer hat on her when she didn't want to wear it so just kept throwing it on the ground. Each time she was told-off she laughed more, because to her it didn't matter as this was all fun and fun is always the most important thing in the world. Certainly to every four year old, something us adults very much need to relearn, our laughter may well be more sophisticated but a child's laugh is the purest of all.

So Sparkling Eyes (Gaga) has now spent over two hours making sandwiches for the party, in her concern for the taste of young children she knows exactly not to mix adult tastes with the taste of a child. Theirs is more simple I am told. They like cheese, cheese with about anything is OK. I did the dishes and picked some fresh mint and chives from the garden. For a little mint and chives sprinkled over dip and things looks nice. Sparkling said she will drive today because she is more careful and will have to drive slowly. We'll head down to Rock Chick's place in a couple of hours time.

Princess J got a bicycle. When she first saw it she was a little quiet. For it was not a Paw Patrol bicycle, but it didn't matter for shortly afterwards she was on her bike with her Dad going to the shops and Rock Chick had a little emotional cry as she saw her daughter grow up another year. Funny both I and Sparkling had a moment when we thought of Princess opening up her bicycle and then just staring at it trying to take in that it was not Paw Patrol, because she is fixated with Paw Patrol and everything she has must be Paw Patrol endorsed. Any manufacturer in the world who makes items for children must have a very close eye on the trends they keep. The Night Garden has been kicked into tenth place, opening any kind of chocolate egg and finding a toy is first place. Any new Disney child film with lots of songs also rates up there pretty high.

The party hasn't began but, the day has and it will be beautiful and sunny.

Dancing with a 3 year old -

Little Princess J has a demanding side which can not be let down. If she says it is time to dance, no matter how you feel, whether having trouble sleeping, completely shattered both mentally or physically you have to dance. There is no in between because the "No" word is totally unacceptable, when she hears this word in brings out and incessant series of "please" and long faces as she pleads she wants to dance. At which point her favourite song must be found and played out loud with the poor victim of her desire made to join in and boogy with all they got because if you stop and stand there then again you'll get a tongue whipping asking why you are not dancing or just a single word demand "Dance!" It is bloody difficult especially when the sleep pattern has been interrupted and zombie dancing is about the only dancing I'd like to do. With a very hot, very strong coffee. Yet after a session with my Little Princess J and when I can no longer here the word "Pops" being called out repeatedly the sound of her energy and demands fades to stillness. I love my Little Princess very much and miss her every moment as she springs up and grows into a sprightly four year old getting taller by the minute.

For a three year old the current pop songs are not as important as the current Disney cartoon film songs, or Pixar or whatever company has suddenly cornered the market and attacked the mini me's of parenthood. But the thing is these mini-me's are not mirrors of their parents in any way. They do take on parental mannerisms and even sound like them at time, because they have to mirror what they see. It's a learning method for their little sponge like brains. Each and every morning on goes the TV and their favourite shows are played, some shows are even repeated. Princess J loves to watch chocolate novelty eggs being opened. It's weird but she has a thing about it, she will spend hours watching them and see the different toys which come out. There's an excitement about it, it's very short lived and has to be repeated moments later with another display. Unless of course it happens to be a dancing morning, because dancing will bean energy levels are so high physicists begin scratching their heads and writing on boards wondering how to mimic the same energy, but probably without the same music in the background. At the moment Little J is in love with the film Moahna and it makes her both sing and dance to the world. With the energy she should of had another sibling, then her time could of been spent annoying the sibling than wearing out the adults around her. Mind it could of equally been worse, for two children fighting, screaming and demanding I expect means double trouble. No her mother was right, she has a wise head, Rock Chick needed to make sure Princess J could scream with fun and rule the house without the restrictions of a sibling who'd no doubt ensure the house was in a state of permanent rioting. Maybe when she has reached the age of five we'll see another little bump and begin the joys all over again.

In a couple of weeks time Princess J will be hitting her fourth birthday. I can't wait to see her again and celebrate another year. I expect there will be all the usual birthday goodies. Cakes, ice cream, jelly and sweets. Her little friends and their parents will be there and madness will the the underlying theme of the day. And so it will be a very wonderful and very happy experience.

Fed up with moaners

Firstly let me just say a big welcome to the year 2017, a year which will be full of wonder and joy. Depending on what perspective it's taken. For example, say you just happen to be walking down the street and without realising it have trodden in a large dog turd. By bursting the fragile hardening cover it suddenly releases the most pungent turd smell you ever had the pleasure to come across. Mind such things happen not to be pleasures for most normal people, except those who happen to be into bodily waste shit. Lovely pun there, anyway, there you are finding something to try and rub this crap off, the pavement, a discarded piece of paper or grass, most of it is erased. But not all, and the stink did get under your nose to the point of nearly gagging. Or as they say in Scotland, boke-ing. If of a pessimistic mind it will likely edge your demeanour into a moan, a mild swiping depression, something you might talk about but to an extent have to be careful because you can't talk about it today you'd have to save it till tomorrow. On account if you mention it today to your willing offloader
they might wonder if you have changed your shoes and whether they should disengage as quickly as possible. So this little juicy gem will be held under the hat to groan about later. On the other hand a different set of thoughts might arise. The disappointment of treading in a turd may initially be there however with a little bit of cognitive hopscotch it could be turned to an advantage. I've done this before, laughing to myself and reminding myself of the old saying. Treading in shit is good luck. The bigger and stinkier the shit the bigger the luck. This example may even give the impression the world of people can be grouped into two. The pessimists and the optimists, unfortunately the world of people and human behaviour is more complex, but if only it wasn't.

The problem about moaners is the dwell in misery, it is like the most beautiful place in the world. Their life is very much like the dog turd, they moan about anything and everything. Whatever they moan about is an opportunity to bring the discussion back to themselves, they are selfish and in the egocentricity they do not see the needs of others and are unable to step outside of themselves or contemplate a world which would be different if only they could view the world differently. There are some individuals where it only takes a moment to know they fall into this category and when you are in their company you want to get away from them as quickly as possible. Every fucking thing sounds depressive and if only they would curl up like the turd and fuck off. An occasional humorous quip can sometimes disarm them, but don't stay too long, for fear this pessimism takes on a smallpox likeness and becomes your very own death sentence. The problem is for want of trying to be nice to these people in order not to give them further ammunition which they could use to say you how you treated them, they will bring you down. Sometimes it is absolutely necessary to be in the company of happy people or optimistic people because they are life givers and inoculators. Or in the company of a pragmatist, things-could-be-worse-so-lets-be-glad-they-are-not sort of person.

My beautiful granddaughter, Princess J has all the markings of an optimist, but then she is only three and a half years old and all children of this age should be happy. She has the cutest smile and the most disarming way to get what she wants so I cannot say "no" to her. She is the most beautiful little girl in the world. I am bias but can't help it. Five minutes in her company and she would make anyone happy and I wonder why there are so many people so depressive and not with it. Who have not broken their own moulds, who can only see sadness, because there always is more. Sadness and depression do have their place but they shouldn't need to be a lifetime vocation. So said Frank Smith.

Week 4 of the 5:2 diet

Dieting is damn difficult and more so the older and fatter I get. I love food and love all the wrong food. Yet year after year there is a period when the discomfort of a large waist line hits home and it is time again to try and lose some of those flabby pounds. It's a time when I want to peak over my belly and see toes below, which are no longer hidden by the half moon stomach which has been keeping them dry. Not to mention the embarrassment of having my very own small but noticeable cleavage. It's time they went so it is the two five diet began three weeks ago and this evening begins the fourth week. So it will be, Monday and Tuesday no food will pass over these lips. The usual calorie intake in the region of two thousand for each day will drastically drop. Hunger will make me sharper in mind, make me alert and also aware of food being consumed around me, because during these two days of self flagellation food just smells so much more appetising. Like some kind of little devil teasing my nostrils it will beckon me to go off course. However, it will not happen and I'm sure the odd pound or two is being lost. So with a little lucky over the next two days maybe another pound will disappear.

It is not easy going on the two five diet, not at all easy. Except on the first week the diet was self imposed and it was for the best. The Sunday night I'd had a dose of the runs and belly rumbles. Having gotten up and had constant broken sleep. I must of ran to the toilet a handful of times, things were not right. Belly was making all kinds of noises, it doesn't help when previously self diagnosed as having IBS as well. I knew it was a matter of starving in order to let the natural gut acids build up and kill whatever bacteria or virus was at work. Two days later on Tuesday afternoon things were a lot better, it was at this stage I realised it would be a good start to the two five diet. So it has been three successful weeks and the start of the fourth, this very minute now. Since then colleagues at work have said my face looks thinner, that it was working. Unfortunately I haven't weighed myself so don't really know what the starting weight was, but I know it is working because another tighter hole on my best is being occasionally used now. Not all the time, but occasionally it is. Therefore some blubber must of been lost. The plan is to keep it up until at least Christmas and then re-start again, but to be really true to this diet it shouldn't matter what time of the year it is. I should just diet and stick to it.

On Wednesday this means now going without food for 8 days out of the last 28 days. I calculate 28.57 per cent of the food I'd of normally consumed has not been consumed. Therefore these must be a weight reduction taking place. Choosing to take two consecutive days was in part serendipity in practice, it just happened as explained earlier. Yet I also saw on a "Horizon" (BBC TV programme) there was scientific research indicating something happens to the human body when hitting a certain

point during this 48 hours fasting. To be specific it was Dr Michael Mosely who advised the consecutive days were important. I guess it is a little like hitting the wall when running a marathon, at this stage your body begins to extract calories from the fat it already has stored up. The diet doesn't reap as many benefits if doing it on non consecutive days although it may well work, it's not going to be the same. Just add in a little very moderate exercise and the diet is becoming a healthy lifestyle option. The thing with the five days of normal eating is you can even overeat if you want. It doesn't matter because the calories lost on the two days generally are not made up. Effectively weight will go down. There are no losers. Which I say because it also means for the two days you are not eating you don't need to buy any food so there is extra pennies left in your pocket. There is however another version of this diet which has it dieters can eat 500 calories on their fasting days. I tried this as well, but it didn't work and the diet went astray. It is necessary though to ensure during the normal eating days to consume a little extra protein than normal. Unlike fat, protein can not be stored up, that's all.

It's now gone an hour into week four and all is well, the best part is when I got to bed in a few hours time there would of gone past an easy 12 hours. Then there's only another 36 hours to pass, but before I know it Tuesday afternoon will arrive. Take heed, the 5:2 diet isn't something which can be done in a few short weeks. It is one of those things you just have to keep going at, setting a target of a few months time and also keeping in mind the need to get fit and healthy as well. The pounds will go, but they will go in the same way the came in the first place. Slowly.

The comfort zone and finding the discomfort zone

Most days I get up and go to work. There is a routine and although not always clockwork it is predictable. Wake up, breakfast, wash up, public transport, work and this is it. Day after day, week after week and then the occasional stray off the beaten track and again back on it. So it goes. Another thing which is predictable is a comfort zone which is barely ever infringed. The work place is somewhere very familiar so there is no situation which really steps into the discomfort zone. To be frank it is all becoming a bit boring and easy and non testing or just overly predictable; there's the word again. The circle is small, it is very small and maybe it is a thing with age maybe it is a thing with personality, I just don't have someone to fall back on other than those already many years familiar with. I've even joked in a blog previously to consider advertising for a friend. Maybe it is a sign of loneliness or a sign of needing to reach out.

At work I am a manager, and although I'd love to reach out to some of my colleagues there's always in the back of my mind the niggling thought they are only talking to me because I am a manager, so they have to rather than they don't have to. Yes this may be cynical but it must be the same for anyone who is a manager in a workplace. For although it is good to be on friendly terms with staff there are times when it is necessary to take actions which must be in accordance with HR policies. For example give someone a formal sickness interview. It is so much harder to undertake such interviews when over familiar. Manager's therefore should not be too touchy feely with their staff, and of course there is always the issue of confidentiality. You have to be conscious of anything said which might be considered judgemental and therefore get back to the individual you have been talking about. Even if it happens you are talking to another manager. Some staff don't take kindly if it is necessary to talk to them formally, they get upset and then you become the evil monster. Putting pressure on them. i.e. advising them their sick will be formally monitored for the next year and if it is unacceptable then they will move to a stage two formal sickness procedure. This is again a burden of management, but even with these aspects I love my job. I do am confident when things get formal but I am also considerate of the individual allowing them time and space to question me in any way they feel they must. Doing everything I can to be transparent. Again this is all work and it does not really take me into the discomfort zone.

In search of finding the discomfort zone I have to start speaking to people I don't know. The dreaded stranger. Now and again articles arise on the web and are worth reading or watching. Such as a Ted Talk by Kio Stark who has written a books on this subject, very close to her heart.  When Strangers Meet: How people you don't know can transform you. I would like to talk to strangers and meet more people I have never known before. It is a little odd for only a few weeks ago I went with Sparkling Eyes to a funeral. It was someone who she met at a cancer charity event some years ago and had unfortunately succumbed to terminal illness. During the Humanist ceremony (which was lovely) the speaker said the deceased person saw strangers as friends they had not met yet.  This person I'd never met before in my life had reached out and spoken words like they were on a personal post card with my name written on it.

However, life is not just a matter of understanding the message it is also a matter of acting on it.

Adult sent to bed by three year old Princess

Princess J likes to put me in my place. It is her duty and she enjoys it as much as a three and a half year old can enjoy chastising an adult. Lets just say immensely. Which kind of got me onto the thinking of what goes through the mind of a child? Their conception of the world is very different because hours of watching the Night Garden, Monsters Inc. or Paw Patrol etc etc does this kind of thing. It's probably a little like brain washing an adult. Their reality has the real existent of monsters and those monsters are cuddly. Human grandfathers are therefore also toys to be put in their box. In my case it was for Princess J to send me to bed. She didn't particularly need a reason but any reason can be found at any time. This time it so happened because I told her Gaga (grandmother) didn't have eyebrows, which is true, because I've seen her without them every morning. They get emphasised with the help of a pencil. So Princess J calls to her Gaga just so she can check to see if there are eyebrows and then I am sent to bed and told the reason I was sent to bed. Her little hand takes mine and then she leads me up to her bedroom, she points to the bed and says I must go to bed. After which Princess closes the door. Of course Pops is unhappy and he has to show a little theatre, so I stand behind the door and bang gently with my fists shouting "let me out" to which Princess J holds the door shut and says "no, you been naughty." It's then my turn to lay in bed and pretend to snore. Little Princess J laughs during this whole episode then goes downstairs to tell her Gaga what she's done and why she has done it.

A few moments later little feet can be heard coming up the stairs because now Princess J has to check on me. I snore and then hug one of her cuddly toys. The door opens and my eyes are closed. She peaks in and sees me but notices I have her stuffed Iggle Piggle doll. With determination she then comes up to me and begins to pull the doll away. I give a little struggle hanging onto it but she emphasises I have been naughty. It is after all her doll anyway and she must of felt naughty Pops was not the one to benefit from this comfort while sleeping. Princess takes the doll downstairs, I find another cuddly toy and do the same again. We repeat this situation about six times, she is really enjoying giving naughty Pops his punishment and soon there is a collection of soft cuddly toys in the living room. While Princess feels quite content with her work and Prison Officer righteous attitude to reprimanding the naughty man.

However, I got to thinking about poor Pops (me) being punished like this and wondered whether it could of been symptomatic of something else. Although you can never be sure of these things. So I thought perhaps she is punishing me because she loves her Pops and it had been 6 weeks or more since seeing him so she was going to teach him a lesson for not dropping in and playing with her. It seemed to make sense to me, for Princess J has not punished anyone else in the same way.

On leaving Gaga took me down to the train station in the car while Princess was secured in the back. I got out and said to Princess I had to get a train, I don't think she understood, and then waved as the Gaga drove off. Later I learned Princess was unhappy I had left. Fortunately Gaga knows the cure. An ice cream on a cold day was just the thing. There is one thing for sure, you just can't help but love the children in your life.

36 hours without food

The problem with getting old is the lack of exercise.  Motivation dose not exit to hit the gym and sweat like a pig for a couple of hours and leave with an endorphin high. It is just too much work, too tiring and overly disciplined. It's something best left to the younger people who probably like to view themselves in full length mirrors. They like to look at themselves which is always very funny to see. I was a runner and my exercise usually consisted of stretching followed by a period on the treadmill and some weights. Running while going nowhere is mind numbingly boring and mostly a necessity in the Autumn come Winter time. The other good effect about exercising is weight control and it's possible to stuff your face as much as you like because it all gets burned off in the end. Except when old and not exercising. The weight now collects itself around my mid section and I worry about barely being able to see my feet. Let alone entire body starting to break down and sag. Loss of hair, man boobs, aches and pains. It's not a nice thing.

A year or more ago I heard of the five days on two days off diet. As a way to control weight and actually lose some. Unlike other diets which require the conscious change in eating habits this one doesn't change what you eat but rather how often you do eat. In a single week two days are taken off from eating at all. In ideal circumstances these days should be consecutive, which is asking a lot for a little tubby fellow like myself.  So 36 hours ago I decided to take some time off from food, because I really do need to lose a little weight.  Another secondary reason is it is cheap, because for 36 hours I didn't need to buy any food either. Great news for my wallet. I really am fed up with being as fat as I am and unfortunately getting glimpsed side looks from reflections in windows viewing the gut. The thing which extends over my belt. Further when having a bath it seems the bath water rises up higher than it used to, which is a demonstration of physics in reality. The water displace by my belly moves up, if I didn't float as much as I do now I'd drown.  Once upon a time, my core muscles used to be so tight and I was so slim it was a problem keeping my trousers from falling down so my belt was pulled tight. Whereas now the problem is wondering whether the seat is going to split if bending over and stretching them too much. Or whether there are enough holes in the belt, I even got one of those hole punctures.  Now bending over can be difficult. It is not at all a pretty sight. It had been a while since I last tried this fasting so it was interesting to identify what was happening yesterday and whether my clothes still fit.

Not having food for 36 hours didn't stop me from farting. Yep, I still farted throughout the day and used the toilet. What I did do is drink a lot of liquids because it is summer as well and this was good. There was a moment in the afternoon come evening when there were some stomach rumbles but I've now started to employ the cognitive method of coping. Simply engage your mind in something different make it occupied. The belt on my trousers had to be tightened and was more stable during the day when normally it would be loosened and tightened depending on when I ate. The usual intense postprandial need to sleep was still there after what would of been my lunchtime break. Except I hadn't eaten so this tiredness could be related to lack of sleep due to hot summer nights or it's just habitual. I generally just sit in a chair and close my eyes napping for a burst of ten to fifteen minutes. It partly shakes it off, but not all the time. I wasn't grumpy or tired generally over the day, but what I did feel was more energy and even alert. Perhaps the blood which would of gone to my gut had nowhere to migrate so fuelled my brain. What I did do was try and keep the image of getting an accidental view of my profile, thinking about this belly and how typically middle aged I looked. This was my motivation and I should now try and use this every week even if it is one day out of seven. The other thing I notice was the taste in my mouth and teeth, it felt like it needed a good brush and wash out. Possibly this was a combination of gastric liquids being intensified, or even mouth bacteria screaming for food to live off. The mental alertness levels lasted throughout the entire day. Which kind of striked me, there must be a optimal balance where the right sleep, food and drink consumption puts the body in a place of feeling awake and alert.

Maybe one of the lessons of life is to do things which are good for yourself but unpleasant. As the saying goes too much of a good thing is bad. However, over time the human body changes, it doesn't metabolise so fast and eating at the same rate will mean obesity. The biggest disease affecting modern day society, unless you happen to be in a country at crisis is being fat.  Regardless I must admit to enjoying breakfast this morning but will do my best to eat sensibly today and not try to make up for 36 hours of fasting by 36 hours of gluttony. Perhaps even a little exercise would be a good thing?

Bosses and stress

Nearly every working day I take time out and head to a very nice pub for a cup of coffee. Not always but certainly most days. There three and sometimes four things happen, cup of coffee, close eyes and have a very short moment of shut eye, read and occasionally chat to Sparkling Eyes. The best bit of news which comes out of this is usually what Princess J has recently been up to. When the office has been manic and the stress has piled up (even though I do my best to deny stress any kind of foothold) then news of what my precious, crazy little grand daughter has been up to makes everything insignificant. Everything.

Being under stress has an upside to it. Having experience awful managers in workplaces I'll elaborate. In two jobs bad management led me close to leaving them. However, bad management is not about doing shift rotas, deciding overtime, or giving tasks to do. It is about personality and interpersonal skills.  How an employee is spoken to and they way they are asked to complete a job or reprimanded are factors more important in the workplace than a lot of things. One female boss I had liked to use psychological warfare, each day when she came into work it was amateur theatrics night. She would come in and expect everyone to pay attention to her, to suck up to her. I often did not agree with her and at the same time felt unable to express how I felt. She I learnt later was the reason why another boss had a mental break down and left the workplace. Funny thing was the boss who had the break down was her grand parent boss as well. I wish I'd of gone to him and asked for a transfer and am sure he would of been someone to confide in. Except he happened to be the type of person who locked himself up in his room and didn't particularly leave it to socialise or speak to the staff. The upside to having this difficult and mentally ill female boss was how much I appreciated things outside of work. I valued moments of fresh air in such a way it was startling. All because of the pressures felt in the workplace. 

Although we live in a democratic society the work place is not a democratic place to be. The boss is the one who holds all the power. Any relationship with a boss to this extent is asymmetric.  Further to this the way a boss acts is always under scrutiny, employees watch them and they make judgements. I know for I am one of those bosses now. What is significant for an employee is to feel they have the opportunity to say what is on their mind and at the same time. Further to this what they say has been taken into account and is valued and weighted. My admittance as a boss is I don't know everything but at many a time it feels like the people I manage expect me to know everything. They expect answers from me when they could just as easily work out the answers themselves.  This can be frustrating however showing frustration is in itself something which should not be done. For it stems from anger and impatience and making a judgement about the employee.

Now life as a boss is both easier and harder. I don't get bossed around as much as I did when lower in the hierarchy, yet at the same time there is more work than ever. More work and less time. The workplace is an important place for we spend more time there than with our loved ones. We get to know people in work to an even greater degree than we do anywhere else. I once heard it said there are two instances in you actually know what another person is like. One is at work the other is living with them. This is true and what I will say is I absolutely love my job yet at the same time it is very stressful and I don't want to take this stress out on other people, certainly not those who work for me even if I do get frustrated at them. So I don't. I enjoy my lunch break away from the office a cup of coffee and momentarily find solace, comfort and humour. Which is the the best tool to fight stress with.

Missing the bus 5 times and a one minute chat with Princess J

Monday seems so far away, to be precise it was 5 days ago, but the day didn't turn out so good. It was a complete sequence of mistiming and impatience. This is what happens when you spend the entire two days cooped up indoors and not setting a foot out. All because while indoors there's a less likelihood of spending any money at all. Especially since lately it had been dripping worse than a 30 year old tap needing a washer replaced, which is an entirely different story. So waking up Monday morning meant the usual five hours of disrupted sleep because had even a little exercise taken place then tiredness and sleep would of been easier. This pent up energy was spent walking to the bus stop and during the frustrating ten minutes of waiting for a bus then making the decision to walk. However walking in a direction to get on an earlier bus meant eventually missing a total of five different buses. A mile and a half pass and now halfway to work I do eventually get on a red double decker. It's funny as well because lately the buses and traffic seems to be much less than it should be. It can only mean one thing. For some schools the summer holiday has already began. It's nice not to share a bus with a thousand kids who have screeching voices. To work with them would probably mean a compulsory supply of valium and a George Cross medal.

Getting off the bus there was only a few minutes walk into work and sat on the steps was a duck. It was a somewhat odd thing to see. When considering as the doors open up there were about to be a few coach loads of people walking in. Fish factories are like that. In one door and out the other. The duck was quite content to just sit there, like sitting on the steps of a public building was the normal nature of work for a duck. No doubt he was not aware of the two local Chinese take aways, who probably would be serving up the odd portion of his cousin. Not to mention the restaurants, which I have now mentioned.

At lunch I managed to get to chat to Princess J, although the discussion was very short. Being she is three years old and her language is very much still developing. I thought she was saying "can't hear" so spoke louder and told her we'd have to get her hearing checked out. Only then to be advised by Sparkling the little princess was actually saying "cat hairs" because Olly is moulting and the house was covered in them. It was only a few moments and it was a wonderful thing to do, listen to the most wonderful little Miss Trouble there is. Which is also another story altogether.

The wipe my bum song and a Princess J gets stuck in the toilet

It's been a funny morning. There I was thinking to myself it would be nice to write a BLOG as time passes and this year there have barely been any. Then I got writer's block and didn't know what would be written. Yet after listening to the radio for five minutes there was suddenly a hell of a lot of material to think about and enough for at least two thousand words if really needed. Finishing breakfast and heading upstairs a little more radio another two thousand words of possibility and I sat down to do a little typing practice. Within a very short moment there came the sounds of a small boy singing. It is the neighbour's youngest the walls are so thin that his words rang through my room, I was transfixed. It went along the lines of, "wipe my bum, wipe my bum, wipe my bum, wipe my bum! Mum, mum, mum, mum mum!" I laughed. It is not each morning when the words to a song are just given to you and can be made up in just a few moments. I am sure that young lad is going to be a great success in the future when no doubt there will be different words. Ones which the public teenagers will enjoy, but I know they will not provide as much amusement as I had this morning.

Another song I heard him sing a good few months ago also having great brevity and lots of repetition went along the lines of "I don't want a bath, I don't want a bath, I don't want a bath." Followed by more of the same. It was sang in a rhyming style slow and paced just like many small child song is. After a while I heard his mum interrupt and it didn't matter if he didn't want a bath he certainly was about to get one. The entertainment these walls have heard are probably what help keep the house standing.

Small children do not understand a lot of things, just as the beautiful Princess J does not understand a lot of things. The not understanding things is because they are children and their barely lived life has to mould understanding according to experience. If it happens experience is based on play then this is how they understand. Play with lots of laughter and often repeated play of the same thing over and over again. This may be draining on an adult, but I have found after doing two hours of hunt the egg with Princess J there is a lightness of being almost what you'd get from doing a lot of meditation. Of course it is tiring, very tiring, but this is age. Pops is an old man and Princess J does not understand the concept of age quite yet but she does understand what a birthday is and waking up to open lots of presents is absolutely great fun. Which is another game we have played before. I'll not mention our game of father chrimbo at this point.

Sparkling told me a couple of days ago about Princess J's little adventure to a seaside town called Arbroath. They enjoyed the train journey on Thomas the tank train, enjoyed walking along the beach and seeing a bucket full of fish heads, then came time for a cup of tea and a bowl of ice cream. Just as Sparkling had began her tea Princess J wanted to go to the toilet. Now at three years old she considers herself a big girl and is pretty independent. Whenever possible she will go to the toilet on her own. Unlike the boy above she doesn't mind wiping her own bum, for some reason she enjoys the experience and enjoys using toilets in any place she knows they are. However this time was different. Sparkling went into one toilet cubical and Princess J in they other. Now these cubicles were not like the modern new ones which have not top and about eight inches of space below. They were situated in a old style restaurant so the toilets had old style locks and weren't as smooth as modern ones. Sparkling finished and then tapped on Princess J's door. Asking if she had finished as well. She could hear the little Princess trying to pull the lock across but it would not. Her small hands were just unable to slide it across. Keeping as calm as possible Sparkling kept trying to coax Princess to open the door. She couldn't. Princess was beginning to get distressed. Sparkling calmed her as much as possible and then said she had to pop off and see the waitress. In turn the waitress came but could not do anything. These toilet doors didn't have the big gaps, you couldn't slide under or assist in any way. However, fortunately there was a builder on the premises doing some work so they went and got the builder. He then proceeded to remove panels from around the door and from the top of the door. In a short while he had made a gap at the top. By putting his arm down with a tool he was able to reach and knock the lock open.   So it was the Princess had been rescued not by a Prince but by a builder. The perfect accomplice, otherwise no doubt they would of had to call the fire brigade, which would of been a bit dramatic for such a situation.

The whole episode took about twenty minutes and during this time Princess J had found her ice cream had melted. The restaurant was sympathetic and gave her another free bowl of ice cream and although Sparkling offered to pay for the repairs to the toilet door they would not have any of it. Princess enjoyed her bowl of ice cream and of course even some of Sparkling's tea. Now maybe if she knew the "wipe my bum" song she would not of locked the door at all.

Helping a man to the pub

So there I am at lunch time, just finished my Chinese and not feeling guilty about the excessive amount of calories taken in when I notice the grey haired old man with a white stick walking slowly and tentatively towards a boarding. Which had an inset door open for workmen. I group of people walked passed him and would of seen him as well. It was clear, if he continued through the doorway he was going to trip up or enter a part derelict site. Then possibly lost or injured walking around in circles with no one to stop him.  I approached and asked if I could help. He acknowledged and was happy for me to guide, the destination was a pub, to the left through a market. A pub which it seemed he'd visited many before but I couldn't tell if this was many years before and he was revisiting for old times sake. Most likely. I guessed he was lonely and wanted to make some mates, or just get pissed out of  his head. How on earth he was going to get home afterwards was mind boggling. Whether on a bus, train or taxi he'd sure need a little assistance and I was half wondering whether I should of offered to meet up with him a few hours later to see if he needed help again. Poor old sod, but certainly a nice enough fellow.

Which got me on a digression of thought how it is good to help other people. To be kind, yet in the same instance this evening I saw a programme on TV where a married couple were temporarily separated for 10 weeks so they could lose weight. They had gotten into a rut and were drinking 25 bottles of wine a week between them and seemed to lead lives of petty squabbles and emotional starvation. They admitted it wasn't helping their relationship and the husband was quite sure he loved his wife but could not put up with it.  The wife had low self esteem and gave off a self loathing attitude of how she needed to change, but was so self absorbed I nearly walked away. Yet at the end of the period she had managed to lose 2 stone and her partner had lost 3 stone. It was a happy moment as they met again after the separation and then decided to permanently change their lives. If there is one thing detestable it is people who are self absorbed and just can't get over it. So at the beginning of the programme I just wanted her husband to leave her and tell her to get herself sorted out. Whilst at the end of the programme it was clear they both absolutely wanted their relationship to continue and both wanted to love each other for the rest of their lives. This was the beautiful element which had come through in the end. I could of easily had a babble at it, but managed not to and stayed composed.

The moral is, if you do something good for another person you will feel good about yourself and gain a self happiness.

Sleep variations

Sleep is a beautiful thing when you can get it. However the sleeping habit changes with age, the older one gets the less sleep needed. In addition there is always things to be done and the best time to do anything with concerned effort and concentration is at night when it is quiet. Peace is also a beautiful thing and in a mad crazy noisy existence, finding peace to take a moment out is also difficult.

It is easier when done late at night say between 1 a.m. and 4 a.m. or perhaps even a little bit later. Not much later. Just a little bit. For after 5 a.m. the world is truly awake. Doing noisy things at night though is probably not a good idea if you like the neighbours.  Woodworking and plumbing are best left during waking hours, when most people are awake not when it's just light. Unless you happen to be an insomniac or a part time insomniac and dislike your neighbours, or live in a field.  Like sleep insomnia is a condition which comes and goes depending on it's fancy. So sleep, peace and insomnia are a trio of bedfellows each dancing in the shade of the banyang tree. One dances on soft sand, the other on cobble streets and the last doesn't care for peace is a state of mind.

Sometimes when I get home late the desire to sleep is so strong I will go to bed and then wake up a couple of hours later. This small luncheon allows enough space in the normal sleep routine allowing a later night and a little peace and quiet. Except of course at such small  hours of the morning it is not a time to get a musical instrument out and play, for other people are trying to get some shut eye. But oddly the desire to strum my ukulele is strong and it is like a force which cannot be denied. Except it must. This is because I just have not been getting in the normal practice routine which was part of daily life. Things get in the way. It would be so good if I could get away with just a minimum time sleeping and then be productive with the rest. But even productivity is a misnomer when distractions are abound.

Yes, sleep is a beautiful thing and it shouldn't mind coming day or night providing it is given a respectful place.

Saturday morning what do I do?

Oh I miss being bullied by a little girl who is barely three years old, my grand-daughter Princess J. She is the happiest little girl I have ever met in the entire world and I love her so much it hurts when I am away from Scotland for too long.  Next week will be week five from last seeing the little Princess. Let me also add Sparkling Eyes who I cant help finding I like to annoy and she in turn gets a perverse kick out of annoying me. She is the most wonderful pain in my arse I've every had and will always continue to be one. She puts me in my places and reminds me of who I am, she is my friend and my love and everything to me. Damn I must really be missing Scotland today.

Yesterday in Scotland it was raining and dull and the kind of day where you just stayed in doors and didn't venture out. It was one of those weather days which wears down the spirit to do nothing. They say you should get things fixed while the sun is out, which means there's always a lot of work to do things and get them fixed. Whenever the sun does decide to come out.

It's Saturday and I need to decide what to do with my time. The sun is out, Sparkling will begin working later this afternoon and it will mean two days where I don't get to chat to her as text messages fly through the air. Fortunately she now likes her new job, is easier and less manic than per previous job with the Red Cross. The RC may have a name for it as a charity but as a care provider for those needing palliative support it is dreadful. Sparkling showed me her list of calls over a weekend period and there were scores. Some people only getting a fifteen minute visit where the carers were expected to give a shower and breakfast. It isn't worth getting the RC involved unless you are in absolute need and then don't expect much. The care staff are spread thinner than marmite. Havey is in the corner there and it's about time he was played, sun is out and it's about time I got some exercise, I need to do something, anything, just be active. I got books and journal articles from days of old when I used to study, now they can be thrown out  but there's this emotional investment in these things because they were part of my life for a period, and there is knowledge in those things and knowledge is useful stuff to have. What is it that stops me from clearing out when I know I so need to?

Things Change

The environment of the fish factory is one hell of a hectic place. This is because the government of the day is always trying to intrude and introduce new regulations which must be followed. The fish are too big, the fish are too small, they are too ugly some are to beautiful. In which case off with their head says the secretary of state for work and pensions. Until it was his own head went rolling along the ground and it was a case of self decapitation rather than one of the close cabinet circle stabbing him in the back and kicking his body into the Thames, just so it could float on down and out to sea to become bird food, or possibly fish food. So it is at the factory things change. They change on a nearly daily basis and you can't help get a feeling the bosses think this department is like having an extra toe no one knows what to do with. The weather is hot, everyone has sandals on and all they are doing is fixating on this toe wondering if they could lop it off with a pair of pruners. Yet they know were such an event to happen there would be a lot of pain. So much there would be a lot of flak. The sky would light up.  So the factory is neglected and we all do our best to get along doing what we can. Running about with sticky tape and glue trying to keep things together. The thing is this glue and sticky tape is now being used to patch areas where glue and sticking tape was before, the scar tissue is getting bigger and bigger.

Whatever I say, I like to be busy. It is good to be busy because the time flies by, however there are moments more frequently when being busy is not the operative situation. Rather manic chicken with no head flapping about and trying to lay an egg at the same time. This is what it feels like. The people above who are part of an elite special forces team going by the initials of SMT (senior management team) have higher pay grades and tell us how to order our batches of fish, how to stick the sardines in cans and what to throw out. The thing is they don't actually spend any time on the coal face so their advise is to put it bluntly a load of codswallop. Their views of the factor are from the last time they walked around it. Which was probably on some induction tour fifty years ago. They have no idea what is going on. Further to this they have the inability to listen. It's just not getting through and it is going to get worse. The elite team have been in bed with each other for over 30 years and now some of their members are running for the hills. Running hard and fast because they have been and found the Willy Wonka golden ticket. Damn lucky for them, shame about the rest of us who have to stay behind and pick up the decaying rot of decisions made by people less qualified to lead the life of a mackerel than an actual mackerel is.  Of course I'm still here, the demands are made and I know I can't meet them so I then choose not to meet them and just get on with the best I can do. Which isn't to their liking, not at all because it is not giving the results they want. Results they can't even hope to get with their style of apocryphal management.  Not even the sprats have any belief this boat knows where it is going.

So the question is what do you do when the toad is running the rudder but is too short to see over the top of the railings. And on top of this is just sitting there flicking it's tongue out eating flies and getting fatter. As though it has no care in the world. The thing is all of the other ships in this sea only communicate through the toad so they only get a toads eye view of what is going on. Yet us sailors do all we can to guide and help the ship along. We can't trust the rudder so when it points the wrong direction we pull up the sails, we wave flags as ways of warning and those who are scared go and eat easter eggs in the bowels of the ship, in the dark.  It's all changing and we can see it changing and if we just dive off into the sea to get away it will not matter at all to the toad. This animal doesn't give a shit as long as it can swallow up the next fly within zapping sticky tongue distance. The toad keeps itself to itself, so we take no notice and hold it in contempt as in reality this toad is no more than just a fat cat and certainly isn't a leader of anything other than it's tongue, whether used for flies or taking the cream from the top of the milk. For like all fat cats it gets paid handsomely sitting happily on the catches of others, who are of course paid much less.

Energised in the Fish Factory

It is funny how I have felt energised lately at work. Really odd. For it is all gloom and doom. The changes taking place in the Fish Factory have been forced upon us by mysterious aliens who run the mothership. Except these idiot aliens don't know what communication means and probably had it erased from their dictionaries when they were little alien kiddies. I expect a little exuberance with a black crayon or an unfortunate opportunity of using real scissors when they should of been pulled away before doing any damage. I mean who wants to cut of an alien tentacle by accident. So the things who lead the space ship gave out an enhanced redundancy deal to anyone who fitted the criteria. Which happened to only apply to managers. The aliens expected a 100 per cent take up rate and they nearly got it. Any ordinary savy organization would of said OK, we need to cut costs lets do it in a logical succession management manner. Nope not these nitwits. They went for management posts. So anyone who was over the age of 55, had 15 years service and of management grade were given the choice to leave. Many had taken this choice and in a couple of weeks our management will be pollaxed by half of what it previously was, but I will still be there. Because for a start I didn't fit the criteria I just wasn't old enough, even though I am an old fart. This old fart fell into the slightly younger category of fart so has to stay.

The error of their way it seems they just haven't an understanding on. The decision appears to have been completely made at a financial level. Managers over the age of 55 are generally a wealth of experience and information which can not be bought from a book. But it is not just this, they provide a stability through their long term incumbent positions, a stability which in some cases is admirable having to deal with some pretty lazy employees because there has simply not been the management support to sack them or go through the process of sacking them. For those who don't know the term for this it is called Capability. There is so much comfort which can be gained from asking a question of an experienced manager, one who knows what they are talking about. Let me also state this as with any organization there are also managers who are just as incompetent as the next person, these like their incompetent subordinates are known, and yes again nothing is done. Unfortunately those who are bully's seem to stay on for a long time and make many employees lives a misery.  For we all know bullying and harassment policies are paper tissues used in the toilet and have no teeth. If they did your arse would be pretty raw.

The loss of this great knowledge and experience means there are fewer managers left. The structure of our fish factory is becoming flatter than the earth in the 1800s. We have to chain ourselves together to ensure nobody else falls off the edge into a black abyss. It means those managers who are left have to do twice the job they already do, and the job they already do is twice it used to be anyway, so now it is four times what it once was. It doesn't help at times when you get the feeling of the organization doing it's best to destroy itself with IT which consistently fails. Personally I don't understand why heads have not been rolling on this front. When we have staff sitting at desks ready to work and hours are lost while they watch little blue circles go round and try and contemplate the meaning of life or find a work around to get something to work because the gremlings weren't bright enough to throw a spanner in that particular part of the machine. I am feeling energised  but I have all the reason in the world not to feel energised in the circumstances. Why? Because my boss is going! I do know she works much harder than other bosses at her level but she has a problem of not being able to listen to people, not being able to understand their point of view.  In addition she suffers from a denial syndrome, one which has no doubt kept her in her job for a very long time, because she has denied the knives are out to get her. She has denied the jibes of other bosses or construed to view them in a different way. Unfortunately she has also had the support of a close friend and subordinate manager who in my view has actually been no more than a sycophant, and sycophants like bullies are amongst the most disliked employees about. They employ the art known as back stabbing and do so while smiling into your eyes.

So again I wonder why I have been energised? Perhaps the second reason is because I understand I am more powerful than I every have been. With fewer managers about those who are in place are not just a life blood they are the beating hearts and the bones which keep the body going. And hopefully sometimes the brains. Except of course in my fish factory the brains have gone under the guise of the senior management team. Of which my leaving manager is one of them. A team of people who at times have made disastrous decisions and mistakes which have cost many hundreds of hours of lost working time. Just because they believed they had to bring in an initiative and show they were doing something. However, they would not gather data and consider whether it worked or not, they would just come up with an idea and they would then impose the idea. I had contested these on many occasions but was then ignored. This SMT group suffer from a psychological phenomenon called group think and they are totally oblivious to it. I guess it is what happens when you have people who have worked together 30 plus years.

Anyway, I am energised. Because my voice is now more powerful and I may actually be heard, it is like a freedom and I like it very much. The only thing now is to keep my fingers crossed I don't get a mental break down due to overworking.

A bereavement in the family

Last week Sparkling Eyes lost her mum, she was 84 years old and there was nothing doctors could do to heal her. Her stoma had gotten blocked and she hadn't eaten probably for ten days before she was taken in.  However, this on being admitted the doctors had delegated her to the heart ward. She'd had an erratic heart and they couldn't seem to slow it or control it. A scan was done of her stomach and they found not only was the stoma blocked but a hernia had developed. It was not possible to operate because of her heart.  In addition to these items she already only had 35 percent of just one kidney functioning, she was frail and had lost much weight. For a few days there seemed to be an ongoing battle to sort out the stoma. A doctor Sparkling and L & B man called the Green Mile (after the film) had done his best to digitally remove the blockage. Both Sparkling and L & B man spent days and hours at the hospital by her side, keeping her comfortable, talking and creating a relationship with the nursing staff who were excellent. Then at some point the doctors said no more could be done. The blockage was not clearing and through many hours of very ill health morphine was administered to keep her comfortable. She passed away on 04.02.16. at approximately 10:20 a.m. maybe a few minutes earlier.  I was on a train at this time and began my journey from Kings Cross to Scotland. It has been a very sad and trying time for Sparkling, however she has not as yet had a good hard cry. Once or twice she has been tearful but is doing her best to hold it together to support her brother.

It is odd when someone passes away, for I would see Sparkling's mother nearly every time I went to see Sparkling. So now a mortal human being who has been part of my life for a long time is no longer here.  There is something though which was must be said, she loved every one of her offspring and did her small best to help them whenever she could. Whether it be giving money to them, being a listening ear when needed or being disapproving. She did what she thought she was best to do. Her body was left to medical science and Sparkling and L & B man are executors of her estate. Unfortunately Sparkling tells me L & B while dealing with the estate has been manic and shown the less appealing aspects of his personality, which I'll not go into.

We all have a single mortal coil to this planet and it is best to use it fully for once it is over there is nothing left except the memories and legacies we leave behind. The more I have considered this episode the more I have realised the reality of life smile and leave them happy, touch those people you love with as much affection as you can, and some people will always give more than they get in return.