A Team Meeting with a bunch of Rebels

It was only yesterday I'd called a Team Meeting. The gang were going to meet up using MS Teams and it was necessary to use the dodgy office Wifi with my laptop. On account of an employer who employs so called big shots who think they know something about IT when in fact they know nothing. Neither can they find funds to provide staff with business laptops but other departments they do. The Covid had reached parts of the organization other pandemics just can't. Effectively most office workers had become home workers but  they used their own computers. This is a little annoying, for all those staff who have been shunted out had not been supported by giving them the loan of real work place computers. Instead what they all got  software to run on their computers in order to securely access the office systems. Some staff have old computers only a few steps on from the abacus. Others soon complained they didn't have large enough monitors and got eye strain, they would have to buy their own large monitor to work. Perhaps feeling  abandoned by an employer who wanted them to work but couldn't be half arsed. Or maybe it was the distaste of an edict from up high saying they all had to re-connect. Permanent office workers were demanded to attend the office, show their bright happy sneering smiles. Their rebellious grouchy side and face down their managers. For most it meant using public transport and the possibility of getting the Covid. Pissed off is a good term to use.

I'd prepared some minutes from a management meeting and was using them as an outline. They had already been sent out but to me it was clear staff don't read emails, and especially can't be bothered with attachments. They are also prone to forgetting stuff and need to be reminded. I know this because it is a common thing as a manager to have staff ask you questions which they should already know the answer to, if they had read that minute, email or attended the team meeting they should of been at. So I read through the notes in front of me and then at some point the workers decided they would rebel.  It began with one person, it's funny how it takes this one person with a bit of gumption to give a speech others to follow suit. Whereas individually they might be a little reticent, together it was a different matter. They had formed a group, a crowd and had things to say. I watched the video feed as my usual angry voice woman let her opinion be known. It's always the same tract of discussion and same points she makes so she's got it off pat now. We don't get paid enough, management don't know what they are doing, we don't have enough staff, we are being taken advantage of, why are we not supported. So much money is wasted here. She was on a role and I've learnt not to interrupt when this happens. At least ten if not fifteen minutes she moaned. She also said managers didn't care and just enjoyed job grade dishing out work. I could of taken offence to this, but she's right it is our job to give out the work so why on earth make a self-evident statement? Probably because she didn't think we did much. However, other members of staff then joined in and swung a few left hooks with a sneaky upper cut. Slow girl who takes forty minutes to sit at her desk and get a cup of tea in normal circumstances asked "why didn't I get short listed for her previous job in department Z".  Because your too slow, lazy and it would be too much effort to sack you, I might of said. Another voice piped up, but with a tongue in cheek smile "nobody is here to support us, who is in our corner". At which I could of laughed, all staff get a pretty good pay for what they do and seem to think they are worth more. It must be austerity. Also if they feel they are not being treated they have every opportunity to say so, to complain and to get their unions involved. Oh dear what a good grump this lot were on.

This wasn't a case of 5 types of difficult people at work this was a case of a full team of 12 difficult employees at work, giving the boss a kick around like he's a football. One thing I must state here as well. My team is full of women, and I'm a male. I've been at the job as long as them and they've all had the opportunity of being a manager when those managerial posts have popped up. It's just that I went for the job and beat the other applicants at it. It doesn't make me better or worse, we have an equality conscious workplace and if any member of the team felt it wasn't equal there are copious procedures which they could use. In fact one very troublesome woman who was incompetent at her job and didn't like to be referred to occupational health had fabricated lies against me and has been gently pushed sideways to another team. She's had at least four other managers she's done this to, she'd lasted the longest on my team. About 8 years before getting moved on. I just had to get that off my chest because no matter how easy my staff think my job is there's a hell of a lot going on in the background they are not aware off because of confidentiality issues and would raise their eyebrows to say the least. Personally I try to let them get away with as much as possible because they are a conscientious bunch even though a rabble at times. The thing which can give me a personal gripe is, I've worked in the private sector, and they want blood sweat and tears out of you for every penny they pay. As an employee you have no real rights regardless of what the law says, private companies will always find a way of sacking staff if they are not toeing the line even when the line towed is taking advantageous of the employee. As far as private companies are concerned the employee should be happy they are in a job shut up and get on with it. This is the reality I experienced before going into the Public sector.

And another thing. Public sector managers are expected to do multiple jobs, they are not just there to manage staff they have their own workload, are often the go-to-decision-maker when a member of staff doesn't know what to do. They are the on-the-job-trainer because the actual trainer is usually someone who doesn't do the job and then is expected to teach staff who do and so is a complete waste of space. Middle managers are the ones who take the impact of senior managers making demands and then have to take the impact of employees who have a different view of the world. Give us the tools that work and we can perform the job. Higher managers don't engage one to one with staff, don't know what is happening on the ground and have lost touch, they then make decisions which affect other staff and wonder why the reaction is what it is. The middle manager is the one who does their best to keep everyone happy. The middle manager has to be a HR expert because HR don't really do HR stuffthey are glorified interpreters of procedures but have never actually managed a team of staff and then tell you to get on with it. They are often in my experience not very helpful and don't take on a responsible role. OK that's my gripes out of the way. No wonder I love my team when they stick the boot in and show how pissed off they are. Now if only a couple of them would become union reps and demand action from senior fat arse managers who enjoy the pay but don't do the work. Holly shite, do I sound like my own staff?

 

The getting lost dream

I've had this dream before, sometimes there's a cycle when a certain dream will pop up. This is one of them. Mostly I don't remember what I dream, however, not getting a decent night's sleep can cause them to remain in memory. This morning, the dream lingered on. To the extent it had to be googled just to find out what it meant, or what someone's interpretation of it meant. After all dreams are roundabout ways of providing messages. 

Somehow I was trying to find my way back. Back to a place I was familiar with, but I was walking in an unfamiliar place. Past buildings and roads. looking around wondering if i was going the right way. I thought a strategy, it was like being on holiday and not getting to appreciate the surroundings, then when you get lost it's because walking back on what should be the same route you took, isn't the same. The reason is easy, you walk in one direction, so coming back everything is viewed from a different directly. I was in the dream and at the same time coaching myself how not to get lost. I also thought it was important to try and remember landmarks, certain buildings as these would aid the return trip. However, just like my mind was playing with me the thought arose those same landmarks would also look different from a different angle and direction. It seemed as if there were no way out of this slow walking journey of sleep to wakefulness.

The dream by the way is an indicator of anxiety, and the acknowledgement of being in the wrong place in your life. As if you should be in another place, doing something else. I thought about this and considered it's because I should be spending my life with Sparkling Eyes and the wonderful family I have in Scotland. A crazy family I miss every single day I'm not there.

Being Married to Sparkling Eyes

I love being married to Sparkling Eyes and will shortly be having a belated honeymoon in Budapest. We have never been there and each evening I'll spend a little time researching Hungary, whether it's the politics, or culture or trying to learn a little bit of the language. But trying to fit into a couple of weeks the full language will not happen. I read Hungarian words, I watch YouTube videos but then the things float away out of my head like they were attached to helium balloons. Please come back and stay in this brain permanently, but they don't so yet again another set of words has to be read or listened to or written down in the hope they will stay a little longer. Sparkling Eyes makes fun of my attempts to learn languages before we go on holiday and says the only thing I said when we were in Spain was Si, and nothing else. Which is probably true. sitting and practising a language at home is not the same as being in the actual country and speaking it, or trying to speak it.

We will be heading off to Budapest on the 14th February, Valentines day. It is the first time in twenty plus years we have actually had this day together in each other's company. This is because Sparkling's birthday is in January and I before that I also spend December and Christmas with her. It's been a long distant relationship for a long time, which is going to change. Because Sparking and my beautiful real family is now in Scotland not in London. But London is where the job is amongst other responsibilities. As a surprise I have brought a card which says to my darling wife. She had expected a wife birthday card and was a little disappointed when she didn't get one. Damn if only my mind-reading was dialled up a bit more the vibes would of come through this thick head.

I tell Sparkling Eyes I love her as often as possible, it is like a treasure which must be given every day. In turn Sparkling is the same. It is a lovely warm feeling to have the most important person in my world say this. Am I so lucky or what? Perhaps this is a hallo effect, the thing that happens when first getting married, however, we have been partners for many years. It's no sudden thing, it has taken many years to get to this place. A place I so love being and being in love.

I didn't get the job, and am happy about it

It's a funny old thing is work, it's something which has to be done in order to live your life. As a colleague who sits next to me says, this is her second job, her first job being her family. I get it. Being for most part a single male but now lately married to the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife otherwise referred to as Sparkling Eyes, I used to otherwise be engrossed in my work and the notion of becoming as high a manager as possible. An opportunity arose to move from middle management to upper management, or what is otherwise called Senior Management Team, so I went for it, just for the fun of the interview experience, because this is something it is necessary to continually test yourself doing. There's nothing like the fun of an interview and the preparation needed. However in the back of my mind, I wasn't too bothered at all for a number of reasons.

Firstly, there are more bad managers out there than good managers. Sometimes the term "leader" is used but this is a complete misnomer, for I've found it synonymous with the other term called "incompetent." Then on many occasions wondered if it was jut me, perhaps I was the one who had a bad attitude. Well it turns out as you get to know thoughts of the staff around many can be found to have a similar opinion. There's an unspoken acknowledgement which goes along the lines of: I work here to get money but you don't own me and you are not in anyway a superior or worthy to be called a leader, you don't lead me but I'll keep my views to myself and if the opportunity comes up to improve the workplace, or make an efficiency saving in some way, I'll just keep my mouth shut and say absolutely nothing. For a rational employee can not reason with an arsehole, and a rational employee knows said arsehole would take any money saving suggestion, any efficiency idea and wrap it up in their own sycophancy to say it belonged to themselves. The employee should never show they are as good or better than their boss. Bosses don't like this, bosses are often not the person you would go to if the building was on fire and you wanted to get out of it alive. In such circumstances the wise employee will do their own thing and get out leaving the boss to their own devices. So it comes to the crux of the matter, I really don't like my boss. The previous one I did like but she had to leave for medical reasons, whereas the current one who normally just likes to talk over everyone with his opinion and is love with the sound of his own voice, is a real piece of work sitting on the top of the hill creaming off a large salary and not doing much at all.

Bosses have to learn HR systems, they have to learn how to deal with HR crisis points, employees who don't get on with each other. Or employees who are not doing enough work, or employees who need to be interviewed because they have taken too much sick leave and it's time they were reprimanded for not dying on the job at their desk, because nobody in this place is allowed to take sick. I'm a boss in the middle so I'm an arsehole to someone, because no matter how nice you try to be there will be someone amongst the workforce who doesn't get on with you, doesn't like you, or just loves to push the envelope so far it is necessary to bring them in line. At which point you become eternal enemies and you're subject to the glare, the whisper or worst of all a counter allegation which likely has no base to it but will take up hours and hours of your time trying to defend. This is because the boss above is an arsehole, as I've already said and needs to get in on the scene to prove it.

Getting back to the interview. As my boss is not someone I think I can get on with, I don't care much for him or his opinions and would hate to sit next to him on a permanent basis, this would be necessary if I'd got the job. I didn't, so managed to dodge the bullet, I wipe my brow. Instead another middle manager got the job, who I should really thank, except she's the biggest sycophant going and

in her unctuous way is also another person with detestable characteristics. The interview process I enjoyed as it gave me a chance to talk and talk rubbish, even if I was going to try and answer the interview questions. I learnt a little about using powerpoint, learnt I had to time myself to a 10 minute only presentation and besides this didn't do a great deal more in revising for the post. So I'd let myself down, but the intention was to enjoy the interview and to put psychological pressure on unctuous sycophantic woman. Which I now find out it worked. After my interview I came back to my desk all jolly and happy, she saw this and then went off and had a cry. It was bliss to my ears finding this out, she deserved to cry after all the incidents she'd been an instigator off over many years. But in the end she got the job, the money would of been lovely, but sitting next to Biggus Dickus would not of been pleasant, for he's a man who uses his arsehole a lot and has taught it how to converse in everyday language, it's so good at conversing it thinks it is the bees knees. But we all know it's not.


So the game I will now be playing is going to be to the highest psychological level I can muster, this woman going to find she might be boss but she's not the boss of this dude by any means.

Taxi driver's story of marriage in Las Vegas

Dangerous lad had phoned for a taxi, we and our little Ball Boy on account the best word he can say is "ball" and he's very good at kicking, better than your average 16 month old I'd say. Besides his bunny which he is very fond of, give him a ball and play with him and he'll be very happy. We were about to head to the Registry Office, I was about to get married and hadn't seen Sparkling Eyes for at least 24 hours. A tradition which we'd decided to follow.

We got in the cab, and I was just about managing to keep myself calm, the destination was given and I said I was about to get married. As you can see from the picture here, we were all done up looking good. Except for the fact I'd put on a few pounds in weight since the suit was fitted. BB's little bunny is in hand and essentially one of the most important things in the world.

The taxi driver went on to describe his wedding. It was a welcome distraction and an entertaining story. He had gone online and with his partner had decided to get married in Las Vegas. No family were going to be there, they had kind of eloped to do this. However, he was going to wear his full Scottish outfit, i.e. Kilt and accessories. Now what many may not know is the kilt besides being a traditional costume for the Scottish man is made of pretty heavy material. It's made to keep you warm, and just to think about it Scotland can get cold. When he checked the internet he found a nice chapel in which to get married. On the day he got in his limo and they headed to the destination. The limo was air conditioned, the ride to the chapel started off pretty good. However, at some point the limo turned into a different neighbourhood, one which was much less glitzy then where he'd been staying. At this point a little apprehension crept in. Were they going the right direction, yes the driver knew where he was heading. In a moment he was there there were big walls and a very large automatic gate. It opened and let them in. This chapel was close to a prison, the walls were tall and high so if any prisoners did manage to escape they'd not get in. Mind you could also say it would of been a little difficult for the groom to get out and escape as well. The chapel was as advertised. It was beautiful, the Elvis look a like wasn't going to be ministering the wedding but he'd be around and was allowed to be in the background of one of their photos. It was July, the temperature was through the roof and our taxi driver was in a heavy material of a kilt. Sweating heavily he was happily married, the wedding was about him and his partner and their commitment to each other. The lack of family and guests was because they wanted it personal and special. I got what he was saying.

We got into the beautiful large room, where the few guests were going to sit on the first two rows of seats. Old paintings were hung in the room, all the seats had a white stretchy seat cover on them. There was no mistaking this venue. One of our group was charged with setting up the music, she had the tracks on her phone and was going to Bluetooth them to the stereo. However at first couldn't get a connection and then had to download the app. It connected. We were sat there waiting for Sparkling to turn up. The music went on. I listened to the words as Sparkling had specifically chosen this and knew within a moment she would be walking down the aisle. I purposely didn't turn round because I wanted to actually see her for that moment after so many hours in her dress. One which I wasn't sure what it would look like. But she and the dress were perfect and so beautiful. It was purple. All I had to do now was keep a hold of myself and not break down to be a blabbering idiot overtaken by the emotions of the moment.

The registrar read out the words, we took our time, repeating what she said and within what seemed like the blink of an eye were married. Dam I love my wife. Sparkling kept her cool, apparently she'd doubled dosed up on her prescribed calming medication and also at some point downed gin. Now it it was gin I'd drank then I would of been in floods of tears and happiness. I can't help myself so much with these emotions nowadays, they just seem to stream out.

I got married, and walked with Mary Poppins on Halloween

Well it happened, after many years I got married to Sparkling Eyes, it was a registry office do on the 19th October 2019. She's the most beautiful and perfect woman there could be in my world, not because she tells me nobody else would have me, but because I love her ridiculously. And in order to solidify our relationship a lot more Sparkling Eyes has put up with my farting, hugging and loving her since. It will be a three and a half week period of her company before I head off back to the Old Smokey and return to work and a different life. Now  a ring is on my finger. The finger hasn't gone blue with cut off blood circulation, and there may well have been moments when it had to be removed so the washing up could be done, but now it is quite nicely settled and the start of a distinctive ring finger mark is imprinting itself. This three and a half week period of wedding bliss is wonderful, this here is my woman, I'm here man and now I have a legitimate claim of a wonderful beautiful family who have been discussed many a time during these blogs. Though they've been infrequent of late. I'll do my best to write a few more blogs and maybe refresh my picture on the profile. Perhaps the biggest problem has been too much time spent keeping up with social media and the BREXIT crisis. Oh for a little bit of humour to brighten the day.

This period (just married time) is otherwise going to be referred to as the long hug, because the most magical thing in the world is a hug and there's been lots of them happening. Even an old geezer in his late 50s enjoys a hug from his new wifey, and enjoys the company of a wonderful family.

Last night was Halloween, little Princess J all 6 years of age dressed up as Mary Poppins and insisted she be taken around the houses in order to fill up her felt bucket with sweets. It is probably a time of year where the dentist gets a little excited or depressed, depending very much on the dentist as he sees his younger customers turn up to get their mouths checked. It didn't matter much to Princess J for she likes sweets and doesn't think about small things like visiting the man in a white coat who can inflict bouts of pain with a little prod here or there.

So we knocked on a number of doors, the vast majority were not opened and at the start of our trek it got to feeling my little Princess wasn't going to get much in the way of treats. After a few houses we went to a tenement block. These have about 8 flats in them and require walking up flights of stairs rather than through front gardens and knocking at doors. When in the tenement block it is hard to tell if anyone is in the property as there are no front windows with lights, just a small stair well and a door, usually solid with a number or letter and a peep hole. The first door Princess knocked at and there was no reply. She then turned around took a few steps to the other side of the stairwell and knocked on a second door. We waited. it seemed quiet but then there was a noise behind the door. It opened and out wafted a plume of cannabis smoke, pungent but of course calm and chilled. A young woman disappeared back into the flat and came out with a plastic pumpkin, she knelt down to the same height as Princess J and took a handful of sweets to drop them in our little Princess's bag. We thanked them. And so this first success led and inspired us onwards to knock on another two or three dozen doors to which various sweets and chocolates were put in to the mini Mary Poppins' bag.

There were lots of ghouls, skeletons and various other scary creatures out that night, but only a single mini Mary Poppins, the one, who's hand I held and watched over as she ran up to the doors to give them a gentle tap. When we returned to the house she was so excited and happy. But the celebrations were not over. For of all things she wanted to do it was to bob apples. This was a must. Now I'm not particularly happy with bobbin my head in a bucket to fish out an apple, the thought of cold water and getting it up my nose while half drowning just doesn't float my boat. Funnily enough neither did

it seem to work for Sparkling Eyes or Rock Chick, both had expressed they were not going to do it and both had said it was Pops duty to do. Bloody ell. Mary hadn't forgotten about it, the knocking on doors and bucket of sweets hadn't worked as an amnesiac. Sparkling went and got a large plastic container and filled it with water, Rock Chick found some apples and dropped two in the water. Mary Poppins took first go and within a few seconds had came back up with her apple. It took her no time at all. Being suspicious I asked her to keep an eye on Sparkling and Rock and said they were not allowed to push my head down. The bucket was on the floor, hesitantly my head went down, someone was pushing or holding it into the water. Up I came to laughter of Sparkling and Rock, complaining they should not hold me down and again saying to Mary don't let them drown your Pops. This happened about 4 times each time I came up the girls were laughing and I had a strong suspicion Mary Poppin joined in, Pops didn't drown and though mildly unpleasant had a wonderful time as well.

Moral of story, even a married man might have to face attempted drowning by his most loved wife, but it will be OK.

An expectant visit from the Tooth Fairy

Princess J is now five years old, and her first milk tooth is about to be lost. I know this as she keeps saying her tooth is wobbling. As she presses her tongue up against a tooth to the front there’s a slight give. Not a lot but enough to say sayonara tooth it’s about to drop out any minute, but it will do. Then Princess J starts to talk about the Tooth fairy, how she can’t wait for her tooth to drop out so she can  

put it under her pillow and then get money for it. Because an exchange of money would be fair, especially when the fairy puts it there, for the real excitement is about the tooth fairy, because apparently a window has to be left open as well, otherwise she won’t be able to fly in. The tooth gets pushed again this time with a finger and Princess J says “would you like to feel it?” Of course it is compulsory to feel said tooth and see if it does move. So I do, the movement is so slight as to be debatable whether it is actually moving or not.

Being five and losing a milk tooth seems a little early to me, but to Princess J it is an exciting event. In the back of my mind I’m wishing it was not such an exciting event as my little Princess is growing up, it’s one of those markers. Maybe she will not want me to play with her so much or not want to beat me up. No, she’s five I got a couple of more years. Then there’s the issue of wanting to believe in a non-existent entity. How can I enquire what is going on in this little one’s mind.

So I ask Princess if she has seen the Tooth fairy and she says no she hasn’t. So I ask her what the Tooth fairy looks like and she’s like telling me the fairy is little. So I ask what about the Sugar Plum fairy and Princess J tells me there is no such thing as the Sugar Plum fairy and I should not be noising her up. OK I change tact. Then ask how about we try and trap the tooth fairy. At which Princess J’s eyes light up, the thought of catching a fairy I guess must have been just as exciting as photographing the Cottingly Fairies which sadly took in gullibility of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, of all people. I asked what we could do when we caught the Tooth fairy and her reply was to take all the fairy’s money and buy everything we needed. No doubt in her mind she was thinking about getting more sweets, and losing more teeth an ironic sense of logic. I then tried a little bit of bartering. Offering to buy Princess  No doubt there was some kind of logic somewhere which is segregated in her mind and applies to Tooth fairies, monsters and Santa. No matter how much I pressed Princess J on what the Tooth fairy looked like or some other rational question I was reprimanded and then told I wasn’t allowed to talk about the Tooth fairy. No doubt because imaginative little girls don’t like their view of the world challenged. In asking if Santa existed I also got an affirmative “yes.”  I then tried to see if Princess

J  would sell her and miss out on the fairy. So offered to give her five pounds for her tooth. But little Princess wasn’t having it. The tooth was for the Tooth fairy. We made pretend a trap for the tooth fairy. This minor detour lasted all of two minutes because it was all pretend. I wasn’t too sure what Princess J needed to buy, on account she’s given everything she needs all the time. Perhaps I should of asked her how the Tooth fairy could carry lots of money on account of her being so small. One thing for sure was Princess had an inclining of what money meant.

Well, at least we hadn’t gone into the subject of religion, it seems five year old princesses need to have imagination and a non-reality. Which at the moment doesn’t include non-existent gods. Well at least the Tooth fairy would inevitably evaporate as she doesn’t exist in adult belief systems. Well, most adults that is.

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.