Witter

Solar part deux

2012-01-19T23:01:00.001Z

Steve came round today for the survey part of the process of Solar Panel installation.

We'd agreed I'd be flexible. Steve was travelling from the other side of London and I was going to be at home most of the afternoon. Our "meeting" was for sometime in the afternoon. In conversations with the Carmichael Brown office we had a guess that it might be about 2:30 ish.

Steve finally made it round the inglorious M25 and to my door by about 4:40, just as I was thinking we needed to leave to get the kiddiwinks to their swimming lessons. I said hello to Steve, unlocked the garage and then abandoned him to the garage and the house.

You might think this is strange as I don't really know Steve, but I trust him because my friend Sindy wouldn't marry a bad'un.

Having dumped the children in the changing room I legged it back home to make Steve a coffee and answer questions.

I need room for a generation box and a meter. I'm probably using the wrong terminology but I need something that shows what's being generated at any point in time and a meter that tells the Feed in Tariff pot holders what to pay me.

Steve said that it is possible to link the generation box to a Bluetooth system which allows generation to be shown in the house. This is perhaps more of a consideration for us because our system will be based in our garage which isn't attached to our house.

The other exciting thing is that we might be able to link a system with our Wattson which will show how much electricity we are using or how much we are feeding into the grid. Steve went away to explore that a little further.

It turns out the judges that were looking at the Government's Appeal regarding the Feed in Tariff reduction couldn't make a decision and so have given themselves some more time to make a decision.

So just over an hour later and Steve was done and on his way. He'd measured the roof, looked at the electricity supply, realised we didn't have an earth in the garage (oops) and explained the Bluetooth Wattson solution choices.

I then dashed over to the swimming pool to collect two children who were exhausted and hungry, not unlike myself.

Horns of a dilemma

2012-01-18T21:02:00.001Z

I am a lucky person but maybe that's because I "always look on the bright side of life."

Yesterday I spent most of the day in a Planning Appeal Hearing. I was supporting the Council, and on the opposite side of the table were our neighbours.

We, "the residents", did a good job of making our case. There were a lot of us in the room and we presented our points effectively.

I don't know whether the Planning Inspector will uphold the appeal or not. He seemed to be a very fair and reasonable gentleman and I have complete faith in his abilities. He had clearly done his homework, as we had, prior to the meeting and this was very reassuring.

You might think that I might resent my neighbours for putting us through the stresses and strains associated with the Planning and Appeal process, but I don't.

Ken and Jane are trying to improve their circumstances, and I don't know that many people that would say no to an opportunity to make a quick profit. What they don't realise is that, regardless of how the Planning Inspector concludes this case, they have done me a favour.

How many of us know our neighbours? We might say hello. We might nod acknowledgment when we pass our neighbours in the street. We might even pop round to collect a package left by a courier company in our absence. But that isn't really knowing them.

Because of this planning application I have knocked on doors and met people. I've had proper conversations with the people in my neighbourhood. I've invited local people into my home for tea, coffee, wine, beer and cake (always cake). I've got e-mail addresses and phone numbers. I don't just say hello to these people anymore. We stop and chat when we bump into one another. And you know what - they're the best people.

I've had an amazing amount of support from this wonderful group of people and I like living here even more than before. I have Ken and Jane to thank for this.

I hope the Appeal is refused, but Dave and I need to think about what to do if it is allowed. Previously we had said we would move. In fact we had planned a big extension to our house but have scaled back our plans to something far more modest. Our current plan is to fix the house and mend the things that need mending, decorate the things that need decorating.

If the Appeal is allowed we will then have a house that is ready for sale (in a few years time after the build is completed because nobody wants to move in to a house that is next to an existing or potential building site). If the Appeal is refused we will have a house that is mended and decorated and a pleasant place to live.

The dilemma is that if the Appeal is allowed and we plan to move, we will be moving away from lovely people. Maybe that would be enough of a reason to stay put.

A little gem

2012-01-13T15:03:00.001Z

Today I needed to get a document printed. 46 pages of A4 in colour.

I went to Hussey Knights which is a well-established company in Shenfield. They told me they were busy and I'd have to wait an hour and a half and then quoted £58. I fell over and had to be resuscitated. Not quite, but that's expensive. I walked out without any prints.

I remembered someone recommending Brentwood Community Print in Warley so I hopped in the car. They could do the job while I waited and would charge £13.80. I asked for two copies.

Brentwood Community print is a fantastic organisation that helps people who are recovering from mental illness to integrate back into the community. They are helpful, friendly and cheap. I can't recommend them enough.

We're taking the plunge

2012-01-11T19:47:00.001Z

I've wanted to install a Solar PV (photovoltaic) system for a while and I mean years.

Things that have held me back include: husband's reluctance, not knowing which company would be a good company, not understanding how it all works and generally being busy and not having time to find out more.

The thing that changed all of this was a conversation with a friend and the discovery that her husband and son are in the Solar PV business. I've known this friend for a long time and, whilst she's as mad as a badger, she's also someone I admire immensely. She has endless energy and the biggest heart which feeds her generous spirit. Any husband and son of hers would be excellent people to do business with. They would be trustworthy, reliable and do a good quality job. They wouldn't be able to help themselves; it would be genetic.

Sindy's son Seb came round one day to explain the systems to us. He was knowledgable, affable and patient. He sat with a foot in plaster talking to me while I was wearing a Santa hat and he didn't bat an eyelid. He went away with the task of preparing a quote and we stayed at home convinced it made sense.

I could try and explain the feed-in-tariff, the energy bill savings and the export tariff to you but you should really talk to Seb. I will tell you that in April the feed-in-tariff is likely to reduce and acting sooner rather than later is a good idea. There will be a decision this Friday that could restore feed-in-tariffs back to their pre-December values for the short period between now and December so if you are interested you should move now.

My lethargy seems to have paid off. Solar PV is much cheaper to install now than it was a few years ago and if we're lucky we'll get the high feed in tariff too.

Seb came back today with a quote and a pen and I signed on the dotted line. We're getting 10 x 327W Sunpower PV solar panels fitted to our garage roof. Apparently these have an estimated peak rating of 3.27kwh/peak.

I actually quite excited. I'll let you know how it goes.

Company contact details if you're interested too:

www.cb-renewables.co.uk

@cbrenewables

Facebook.com/cbrenewables

Santa has a plan

2012-01-04T22:14:00.001Z

Hannah is a very considerate and thoughtful child. She's always been quite impressed by Father Christmas' abilities and she's spent some considerable time contemplating how it is he does what he does so well.

I know every family has a slightly different Santa experience. This experience is often a combination of inherited traditions which are combined or which morph into something new.

In our house Father Christmas is treated to a mince pie and a tipple. The tipple varies but I'm pretty sure he's had beer, sherry, port and wine at different times. Rudolph always gets carrot which this year was chopped up at upon request (apparently the other reindeer were losing out to greedy Rudolph.)

Stockings hang from the mantlepiece and are filled sometime between bedtime and wake time.

Santa also provides one present per child, generally one that has been requested via letter. This request has to be reasonable because Santa doesn't look upon greediness favourably. This one present is generally left near the hearth.

Other presents from friends and family are collected under the tree (if our house) or another corner of the sitting room (if we're at Grandma and Grandpa's house).

Hannah has been considering the stocking bit and she has a theory.

She thinks that Santa buys maybe 100 different stocking presents and these will not all be suitable for all children. Some will be better for older girls and some will be better for younger boys but there will be some that are universally appropriate.

What then happens is some sorting so that each child has a number of age appropriate stocking presents allocated for delivery.

The rest is history, or something.

The case of the missing apps

2011-12-21T16:52:00.001Z

I had an iPad crisis. Something, or someone, was eating apps.

BBC News disappeared, then BBC iPlayer, and Plants versus Zombies. Then it got worse. Instagram went, and the Camera disappeared. YouTube evaporated and all apps that I still had that needed the camera refused to work.

In all I had about 30 apps that were there, but weren't. They showed as installed which meant I couldn't blame Ethan for their accidental deletion. This also meant I couldn't reinstall because the MacBook and the iPad both thought they were on the iPad.

I tried a restore from backup and I was left app-less. I tried turning it off and turning it on again (the IT Helpdesk Special) and I tried a hard reboot (an action of last resort.) Nothing.

I asked my trusty Social Media sites for help. There was a glimmer of hope when Hugo sent me a link to something that was a bit like jail-breaking but not quite jail-breaking. This sounded like a rather drastic course of action so I resolved to make a Genius bar appointment.

Navigating the Apple site I found an option to schedule a call. This meant someone would call and advise me at a pre-arranged time. That sounded easier than negotiating Christmas shopping crowds at Lakeside so I booked a call.

Lo and behold, the next day, at 1:00pm, I had a call from a lovely lady who helped me through a simple reset procedure.

I asked if she'd seen the disappearing app problem before and she hadn't. She did reassure me though it was probably a software glitch and nothing I'd done.

Within about five minutes, I had all of my apps back. They'd been there all the time but had somehow been hidden. A reset set them free.

The service was brilliant and cost nothing. My iPad is back to normal, all apps back where they belong. I'm now even more super-impressed by Apple service.

Mary and I should go shopping

2011-12-13T23:17:00.001Z

Mary Portas published a report today on the British High Street.

She has 28 recommendations. Good for her, but good for the High Street?

Her report was reported as being produced in response to an environment in which apparently we don't want to shop on our High Streets. Apparently we all want to buy everything online or in out of town retail parks or shopping centres. Really?

I like seeing things before I buy them. I would much rather buy in a shop rather than buy online. So why do i buy online? Well I can do it from the comfort of my home whilst drinking a cup of tea and the goods get delivered to my front door. That must be the reason.

Well that might explain part of it. Price might play a part, but I rarely compare online with High Street prices.

So what's the real reason?

Frankly it's because I'd need to travel to an out of town retail park or shopping centre to be able to buy the things I buy online. My High Street doesn't offer me the variety I need. I loathe shopping centres and retail parks. I don't like driving to shops because I hate traffic and the M25. I never know if I'll get stuck in traffic and that's not good if I know I need to get home in time for the school run.

I even buy groceries online because I have to use the car for a weekly shop and that means driving a distance or fighting for space with the other residents of Brentwood in the local Sainsbury car park. The exception is the local farm shop which usually gets two visits from me a week.

There are horrible things about buying online. Buying the wrong thing has happened to me and to friends. It's easy to make a mistake. In the space of a week I had the same jazz saxophone music book turn up to the house twice. I bought from an independent music store online but forgot I'd also left a copy in an Amazon basket.

I loathe, with almost every fibre of my being, the courier companies that try to deliver, try again and then require me to visit their grubby industrial estate to collect my goods. Had I been in when they tried to deliver they would have handed over the goods requiring just a signature, but because I'm collecting from them I need to take a passport, driving licence and utility bill and then sign for the goods. This causes problems when one orders goods in one name, like Ann Cardus, but all of one's ID is in the name of Carolyn Cardus or Carolyn A Cardus. The arguments I've had could fill a book.

I would do all of my non grocery shopping on the High Street if only the choice of goods was on my High Street. I like the coffee shops; I like being able to nip to the Post Office, bank or library whilst doing some shopping. But there's no point, unless the right shops are there.

Brentwood is trying and the collection of businesses in Crown Street is really trying to improve the sense of vibrancy that a High Street needs.

Mary's right. Car parking should be free. Out of town store development should be stopped. A High Street needs to be an interesting destination where consumers feel happy spending time and, more importantly, money.

I think I've started something

2011-11-29T22:22:00.001Z

Yesterday was a bit of a different day for me at work. I'd invited Anthony Nolan to work to try and recruit people for the Anthony Nolan register.

I'd seen a blog by Alice Pyne earlier in the year (http://alicepyne.blogspot.com/) in which she described her bucket list. The thing that has always been at the top of Alice's list is "To have everyone eligible join a bone marrow register."

Alice's courage in the face of her cancer at the age of 15 was inspiring, and moving. Her first thought is trying to get people onto a bone marrow register benfitting others with cancer.

I looked at how many people worked with me in the same building. There must have been a few thousand. It must be possible to get some of them to sign up to a bone marrow register.

I got in touch with Anthony Nolan and we set a date.

Yesterday I discovered how difficult it is to find new people for the bone marrow register.

In advance I had done some pre-event activity by walking some corridors and telling people about the event. There was an e-mail that arrived in everyone's inbox I figured that some people might need additional motivation so I baked brownies for the first 50 sign ups. Anthony Nolan said that 50 was their target for the day. I thought that was easy.

The charity support team arrived in two parts, one in time for a ten o'clock start and the other an hour later. There was a limiting factor of time as the Anthony Nolan crew could only be with us for just four and a half hours. But I still thought we could hit the target of 50.

Then the day started. I went corridor wandering again to drum up support, looking for 18-40 year olds who didn't have one of the many health issues that would exclude them. It was then that I realised we have a dearth of "young" people at work.

I spent the whole of the four and a half ours on four inch heels, walking and standing, and talking to people about Anthony Nolan and why they should sign up.

There are the willing volunteers, the willing but scared, the scared and unwilling, the plain uninterested and the weird group that fake interest, say they'll come back and never do, or they fake a medical condition that excludes them. For the record, fainting a bit a while ago is not epilepsy.

By the end of the session I was in severe pain having bruised my soles by spending too much time vertical in silly heels. I had also shifted a fair few brownies. And the really good news is that we hit our target of 50 sign ups.

It would have felt like failure if we hadn't hit 50, but because we did hit 50 I can call it a big fat success. The next challenge is to try to achieve the same, or even better results, at Dunton and Dagenham. And I wonder whether any of our agency partners (where there are loads of young people) might also be interested.

Recipe selection - cakes

2011-11-26T21:07:00.001Z

Here are a selection of recipes for the cakes that were available for my recent British Vintage Homeware party. This is going to help me because I'm forever searching for recipes.

Apple, cinnamon and walnut cake

Killer Brownies

Banana and Chocolate Muffins

Orange, carrot and raisin spiced muffins - Hannah made carrot and raisin spice but I prefer the orange and carrot ones.

Apple spice muffins - I usually add raisins but forgot this time

Gluten free, polenta, lemon and pistachio cake

Lemon and lime cupcakes

2011-11-26T20:44:00.001Z

This is an adaptation of a Hummingbird Bakery recipe. The original recipe is for lemon cupcakes but I was lacking a lemon or two but happened to have a lime or two so I substituted.

Makes 12 American-sized cupcakes or 18 UK-sized cupcakes. An American cupcake is baked in a muffin case and a muffin tin. A UK cupcake is baked in a slightly shallower tin with a cupcake case.

Ingredients

120g plain flour
150g caster sugar (I use granulated)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tbsp of a mix of grated lemon and lime zest
40g unsalted butter (at room temperature)
120ml milk (recipe says whole milk but I used skimmed)

Frosting

250g icing sugar
80g unsalted butter (at room temperature)
2 tbsp of a mix of grated lemon and lime zest
25ml milk (recipe says whole milk but I used skimmed)

Method

Preheat the oven to 170˚C or 150˚C if you have a fan oven. If you're as slow as I am and your oven gets up to temperature quickly then you can leave this step until later.

Put flour, sugar, baking powder, lemon zest and butter in a mixer (I use Kenwood Chef) with paddle attachement (whatever one of those is - I use Kenwood K-beater attachment). If all of this mixer malarky sounds a bit confusing you can use electric whisk. Beat on a slow speed until the mixture resembles sand.

Gradually add the milk and beat until just incorporated.

Add the egg until just incorporated and then continue mixing until the mixture is smooth. The recipe says not to over mix but I never know how that instruction helps. I guess you should stop as soon as you think the mixture is smooth.

Fill paper cases until they are 2/3 full. This isn't like a muffin mix. If these cook properly then they will have a flat top that's at the level of the paper case when they come out of the oven.

Bung in the oven for 20-25 minutes. Sponge will bounce back when pressed gently when they are done.

To make the frosting, beat together the icing sugar, butter and zest using a mixer or electric whisk on a medium setting. Once the mixture has come together turn the mixture down to a slow speed and gradually add the milk.. When the milk is mixed in, turn the mixer up to a high speed and mix for at leads 5 minutes. The longer the mixing, the lighter and fluffier the frosting.

Once cupcakes have cooled down you can spoon the frosting on. It might be possible to pipe this frosting but piping has never been something that has floated my boat so I haven't tried.

I have successfully frozen these with the frosting, but if you do this then allow to defrost naturally. A blitz in the microwave would melt the frosting.

Jigsaw puzzle for Ethan

2011-11-19T13:06:00.000Z

Apple and cinnamon cake/pudding

2011-11-17T21:07:00.001Z

I've made this a few times and have had more than one person asking for the recipe. This is even after I completely screwed up the recipe and served something that I thought was terrible. I think this means it must be quite a forgiving recipe.

Ingredients

300g sugar (I use golden granulated but I'm sure caster is fine too)
280g plain flour
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda
2 eggs
120ml cup sunflower oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
120g chopped walnuts
800g chopped apples

Method

Preheat oven to 160°C fan oven or 180°C otherwise. If you have a gas oven or an AGA then you're on your own.
You need a tin that's roughly 25cm x 25cm.If you've bought a tin for my killer brownie recipe then you can use it again for this recipe. Ideal size is 25cm x 25 cm or thereabouts. Grease and line the bottom of the tin. Ideally you should use a tin with removable base as this cake is quite crumbly and extracting from a tin that doesn't have a removable base could get messy.
This recipe requires a lot of apple. I love Bramleys but I'm sure eating apples would be fine also. When I'm chopping apple I fill a bowl with water and lemon juice. I peel and chop the apple (in this case about the size of your small fingernail ish) and pop it in the water with lemon juice. This stops it from going brown when exposed to the air. I'm not a quick peeler/chopper but even if you are quick you might want to do this too because of the amount of apple you're chopping.I also prepare my apple before starting with any of the rest of the recipe so that most of the work after the peeling is just measuring and stirring. I also prepare my nuts ooo errr. I use a hachoir which is a posh herb choppy thing with a couple of blades but a knife is fine. To be honest if they'd been in the cupboard, I'd have use pre-chopped nuts. I hate chopping nuts.
Before you read on you should read this next bit carefully. DO NOT use a mixer for this recipe. Use a spoon and stir it. I have used a mixer and I killed this. USE A SPOON.
In a large bowl, stir together the sugar, flour, cinnamon, and bicarbonate of soda. Add the eggs, oil and vanilla, mix well (USING A SPOON). Add the nuts and apple, mix until all the apples are evenly coated (USING A SPOON). Scrape into your prepared baking tin and level out with the back of a SPOON.
Bake for 30 minutes and then cover with foil. I know this is a faff but you will burn your cake if you don't do this. I have discovered that a massive BBQ skewer placed on top of foil resting on my baking tin will stop the fan on my oven blowing the foil off. I've also discovered that picking this skewer up without wearing oven gloves after it's been in the oven is a stupid idea. Doh.
Total cooking time is about an hour in my oven. You may want to do a skewer test at 50 mins and do the skewer test again at an hour. If you need to leave it in for an extra 10-15 mints then don't worry. This will be a very moist cake because of the apple content and you are protecting it from burning with the foil.
I have killed this by over-mixing and over-cooking and still been asked for the recipe.
Serve warm or cool. Oh and it freezes well which means it works well for those school cake sales or office cake-baking occasions.

Credit and kudos to Lisa whose original recipe I have translated from American and which is available here.

I didn't believe you anyway

2011-11-14T19:17:00.001Z

We usually have some Greek yoghurt in the fridge, in 500g pots, which the children will eat with honey as a sweet healthy-ish treat. I don't know quite how or why but it has become usual to eat this treat from a teacup. Also, in a bid to develop independence (and because I'm lazy), we encourage the children to serve themselves.

This evening Ethan asked for honey and I encouraged him to sort it out himself.

I turned around and he'd grabbed a large pot of double cream out of the fridge and was about to help himself. I said "Er, no Ethan. That's double cream. If you ate that you'd die."

"Really?" he asked.

"No. I was kidding"

"I didn't believe you anyway."

I love the fact that children don't like to feel duped at all, just like grown-ups really.

Economics 1.01

2011-11-06T21:22:00.001Z

Hannah and Ethan have both been given an "Enterprise" task at school.

They've been given an investment of one pound and they have a school year in which to make that one pound grow. The profit thus made will benefit a charity of the children's choice.

On Tuesday Ethan has his first Enterprise event in which he can sell things to others in other year groups.

Ethan has decided to follow in my footsteps and bake muffins to sell. The rules say that the ingredients must be paid for from the initial investment. So I set about working how cheaply he could make the muffins if necessary.

We opted to make a batch of 36 mini muffins because we knew the children would only be spending very small amounts on items. I looked up the prices for all ingredients if the cheapest ingredients possible were bought for standard chocolate chip muffins.

So adding the cost of value flour to value eggs, to value this and value that the cost worked out at five pence per mini muffin. This prompted me to look at how much it costs me to make the normal sized muffins that I bake for school cake sales.

So I added the cost of organic flour to free range eggs to etc. And I got a bit of a shock.

The school sells my cakes, and all cakes, for 20 pence. It costs me that to make them. I might as well just put my hand in my pocket and put the money straight into the PTA coffers. When I think about the hours I've spent baking for school cake sales it makes me want to spit.

Strictly cheaper

2011-11-05T23:51:00.001Z

Every year I watch Strictly Come Dancing. There are things I like and things I think would benefit from improvement.

I like the mix of celebrities and I think the professional dancers are all fab-u-lous (to quote Craig Revel Horwood). The band is amazing and the make-up and costume departments do an amazing job. Craig, Len and Bruno are wonderful and the lovely Claudia Winkleman who used to host the weekday show It Takes Two was very funny and used to get the tone of the show just right.

However.

Bruce and Tess really annoy me. Neither have the talent needed for the job and they get by on looks (Tess) and sympathy (Brucie). Bruce's constant jibes at Craig constitute bullying and are in poor taste. And judge Alesha doesn't have the same authority as a professional dancer. She over-marks and is responsible for the most vacuous of comments at times.

The elimination of the dance off was, in my opinion, a mistake. We are now in a situation in which really bad dancers, like Ann Widdecombe and John Sargent, stay in because the general public like laughing at people, and not in a good way. It also means that the Sunday night show is a farce. It's filmed on Saturday night with everyone pretending it's happening on Sunday. The judges change their outfits, the presenters change and people like me have found the spoiler on the Saturday night anyway.

When the series started there was almost constant filming of the dance training. This was often funny, interesting and informative. Well I think the budget has been cut and there are fewer camera crews available to follow the different celebrities around. The show now resorts to a scripted unfunny video that is shoehorned into the training schedule. It usually involves taking someone away from the training room to help them "get into character" or improve their fitness levels or speed. It's always contrived and more than a bit pathetic.

But I'll still watch. It's better than X Factor.

Smashing pumpkins

2011-10-31T23:20:00.001Z

Today we had two Halloween carved pumpkins stolen from the front of the house. This is the second year in a row this has happened to us.

I got close to seeing the culprits and ran and shouted after them. They dropped the heavier pumpkin just a bit further up the street.

Dave didn't want me to go after the group that were running off because there was one of me and about eight of them.

Hannah was upset. She'd taken a lot of time working with me to carve the pumpkins and had been planning to take both of them to the Brownie pumpkin carving competition (which she'd won the prior year) on November 1st.

I was annoyed and fairly full of adrenalin after chasing the thieves and shouting at full volume, including, to try and bring on some guilt, "Do you realise you've made my daughter cry?" *

I called the police. I didn't dial 999 and it took me a while to find the non-emergency number. While explaining what had happened I did say "This sounds silly", "I realise it isn't the crime of the century" and "You're not going to ask me to describe the carving on the missing pumpkin are you?" but the woman I was talking to was taking it very seriously.

I guess what I wanted was for any patrols to keep an eye out and if they saw a group of about the right size in the area, to stop and talk to them. I wanted them to get a ticking off. I knew it was a long shot, but thought it was worth it. Previously the Police have actively encouraged calls about what they termed "anti-social behaviour."

What happened next though surprised me.

I was then asked when I might be available for an officer to pop round for a chat and an appointment was arranged.

I can't help thinking this echoes a situation in which a group of teenagers were responsible for a broken window at the front of the house. When I reported that an officer came round and I was contacted by phone and mail by Victim Support.

I didn't feel like a victim then and I don't feel like a victim now. I am annoyed, but that's about it. Involving the Police will teach my children a lesson about acceptable behaviour (which I would hope they would already know) but a home visit won't prevent this happening again, unless of course I'm persuaded to join the rest of the country with lights off hiding in the dark on Halloween.

Anyway I'm off to remove the spiders, bats, skeletons and rats from the front door. Ding dong the witch is dead.

*Actually they didn't make Hannah cry. As I keep telling the children, they are in control of their emotional reactions. Hannah chose to be upset. She could have chosen to be non-plussed.

Lucky

2011-10-20T18:50:00.001+01:00

I ordered an iPhone 4S on the first day I could. I'd been clinging onto my deteriorating 3Gs for too long and reading all of the technology press rumours about the launch of the iPhone 5.
I also checked to see how much cash I could salvage from my old iPhone and Envirophone came up trumps offering £120.
When I started to look at the timing of the new phone and the deadline to return my old phone to Envirophone, there seemed to be a discrepancy.
The Envirophone date for return was October 21st and yet Apple's site was suggesting that would be the earliest my shiny new phone would be dispatched.
I checked Envirophone's site for a new quote and was dismayed to see that their offer had fallen to £60.
I contemplated £60 and whether that was worth being without a phone for up to a week. I concluded I wasn't the sort of person who could survive without her phone.
I gave up checking the Apple website and I decided I'd just have to take the financial hit on returning the old phone.
Today I need to work later than normal and I didn't get in until ten to three. There was a UPS card on the doormat.
I checked the Apple website and my phone had been dispatched.
I fought my way through the UPS voice menu to speak to someone to ask if the driver could possibly redeliver. They checked and called back to say the driver would try. I said "There's a banana and chocolate muffin in it for the driver if he makes it".
I waited. I checked with Envirophone that posting today would mean it would arrive tomorrow. I phoned the Post Office to check opening times and was dismayed to discover the Postman collected the post at five.
I also had to get the children to their swimming club by five o'clock.
At four twenty the UPS man and I exchanged a phone for a banana and choc chip muffin.
I'd already backed up, sync'd and prepared for the transition.
I extracted my SIM card, used Victoria's SIM card cutter (nervously) and plugged the phone into the MacBook.
I waited. I decided things were looking like they were working so I erased all content and data from the old phone and we dashed off to the Post Office entering just after the man from Royal Mail.
We ran to the counter and handed over the old phone in its padded bag and Special Delivery envelope.
We went home to find the sync'ing was still progressing. It finished. I unplugged. I made a phone call. It worked. With minutes to spare.
There are times when everything falls into place and I just feel lucky. This was one of those times.

Hindsight isn't always a wonderful thing

2011-10-19T21:48:00.001+01:00

I mentioned this a while ago on Twitter and Facebook, and maybe Google+.

The weather was balmy as we had a late blast of summer warmth in September. I'd just come home from a long day in London and needed to change quickly to be able to collect Ethan from Beavers.

I probably didn't need to change but I'd just been on a hot and sweaty tube and train so it seemed appropriate. I chucked on an easy quick cover up; a summer dress that covers a multitude of sins. It's long and fairly shapeless and probably isn't at all flattering.

Dress on I hopped in the car to drive to the church. On Wednesdays Ethan goes straight from Beavers held in a church hall, to choir practice in a completely different church.

I arrived early and while I was waiting I chatted with some of the other parents who were waiting for their children. When Ethan emerged I whizzed him off to a different church for choir practice and then I drove home for the hour before Ethan would need collecting again.

I was early to pick Ethan up and waited for a few minutes talking to the priest and other parents until Ethan had finished tidying up and was ready for home and bed.

It was when I got home that Dave said "What's that on the back of your dress?" We both investigated and the thing that was on the back of my dress was actually something that wasn't there. The dress was sporting a large hole. The hole was situated a hip height at the back of the dress. There wasn't much under the dress. There was something, but not much. I think we all know what I'm saying.

I'd been to two churches, one of them twice, wearing a dress with a large hole that exposed my backside. A tad embarrassing, with hindsight.

Smelly marketing

2011-09-23T14:34:00.001+01:00

I wandered into town this morning to run some errands and buy some things I didn't absolutely need but wanted.

One of the things on my list was a large silicone baking dish for toad in the hole. My toad in the hole always sticks to the dish it's baked in. I mentioned this to someone yesterday and she recommended getting a silicone baking dish, because she has one and she only uses it for toad in the hole. Well she must have been talking to everyone in Brentwood because the whole of the town was out of silicone, apart from the silicone that is used in breast implants. Since the TOWIE lot have been filiming in the town we're over-flowing with silicone.

Anyway, one of the shops I wandered into was Steamer Trading Company. It's a beautiful shop full of pretty things and I could spend a fortune if I didn't have reasonable self control. As I entered the shop the aroma of freshly baking cakes hit me. I looked around for an oven and couldn't see one and wondered if they piped the small into the shop. I went upstairs and looked in every nook and cranny (without looking like a freak) and couldn't find the oven. As I came downstairs a member of staff was going upstairs with used mixing bowls and utensils coated in cake mix. I figured the oven must just be well hidden and decided I'd return later in case there was some lovely cake to be had.

I reflected that doing baking in a shop that sells cookery and dining items is a brilliant idea. Everyone loves the smell of cake cooking in the oven and it must entice people into the shop and put them in the mood for buying baking related items.

I returned later, after a trip to the bank, and as I went into the shop I was overwhelmed by the smell of burnt cake. It was an acrid smell that was deinitely not enticing. I had another quick look for the oven but found, instead, the charred remains of cake on a chopping board. Black crumbs were all that remained.

It was then I thought that the idea of baking in a cookware shop only works if the people doing the cooking know what they're doing.

Moist scrummy chocolate muffins

2011-09-22T19:21:00.001+01:00

I haven't given these muffins their correct title because it might put you off baking them. The title should read cocoa courgette muffins. Please don't let the courgette put you off.

Chocolate muffins can often be dry, sorry affairs that look so much better than they taste. These muffins look as good as they taste and taste as good as they look. There is no hint of courgette flavour but the courgette does bring a delicious moisture to the mix in the same way carrot can to a carrot cake.

OK, that's the sales pitch over, here's the recipe.

Makes at least 12 standard size muffins.

You will need a muffin tin or two, muffin cases, two large bowls and an oven pre-heated to 190˚C or 160˚C if you have a fan oven.

Ingredients

280g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
pinch of salt
2 tsp cinnamon (weird I know but have faith)
3 tbsp cocoa powder
1 egg
140g soft brown sugar (I didn't have this so used 100g natural granulated and 40g light muscovado)
60ml milk
2 tsp vanilla essence (not quite so weird but still a little strange)
340g grated courgette (I used course grater although recipe said finely grated and I didn't peel the courgette although you can if you want to)
90ml corn oil
85g optional chocolate chips (the recipe said raisins which I thought sounded disgusting but you could always try it as an alternative)

Method

Put muffin cases in muffin tins and if you haven't turned the oven on, do so now.
In a large bowl stir flour, baking powder, bicarb of soda, salt, cinnamon, cocoa powder and choc chips (or raisins) if using. If you're keen then you can sieve this. I'm not convinced sieving makes any difference and I only ever stir with a fork.
In another bowl beat egg with a fork. Add sugar, milk, vanilla, courgette and oil and stir well.
Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir. Do not be tempted to use an electric mixer at all because you will ruin your muffins. Have faith, use a spoon and stir. If it's anything like the batch I made today you will think that there's not enough of the wet ingredients to mix in all of the dry ingredients. Persevere because it is possible. It will be a fairly stiff mixture because the courgette releases moisture when it's baking. Just make sure that no dry flour is visible when you've finished stirring.
Spoon this mixture into the muffin cases and bake for 20 minutes ish. I usually turn them in the oven at 17 minutes to make sure they bake evenly.
They are cooked when tops spring back when pressed

It is customary for the cook to make a cup of tea towards the end of the baking time which is to be enjoyed with one of the muffin batch. It's very important to check the quality of one's own baking.

Wasting time and ruining lives

2011-09-19T21:57:00.001+01:00

I have spent most of this evening crying. With laughter.

I recommend you visit damnyouautocorrect.com and kill a few minutes the next time you have a few minutes to kill.

Here is a tame taster:

Most of the autocorrect screen grabs are much more offensive, so you have been warned.

Around and about

2011-09-16T22:01:00.001+01:00

Sometimes someone does such a rubbish job that they really need to have it pointed out.

I mean if somebody did something that endangered life and limb, they should be told, am I right?

OK does anyone know the muppet who works at Essex County Council and has responsibility for roundabout design?

You see this roundabout here:

I know which side of this roundabout I should use if I'm travelling straight on. The problem is that too many people in Brentwood seem to be confused by this roundabout and travel on the right of the roundabout when approaching it as shown in the photo.

I have been travelling in the opposite direction and I've come across cars heading straight for me. I could interpret this as a vendetta against me were it not for the fact that the twonk at Essex County Council has so clearly screwed up with the planning of this roundabout.

The real holiday car

2011-09-13T22:23:00.001+01:00

As promised, just a little later than promised. Disclaimers here.

We had an S-MAX 2.2 Duratorq TDCi 6 speed Manual Titanium. For those not initiated in the ways of the Ford product an S-MAX is a seven-seater that can also be a five-seater or a two-seater depending how many seats are up or down.

I could tell you what I think of the car's looks but you should really judge for yourself.

Of course that's a brochure shot. I'm not sure the heights and angles of this next shot are quite as complimentary, but at least the wheels match the brochure shot.

It does however show that, despite a thick layer of French road filth, the car doesn't look desperately dirty. I think that's down to the choice of the Mica Stone paint. Our next car will be black and will show every last speck of dirt.

We travelled in five-seater mode with the last two seats folded flat and it was very capacious. It fitted all of our holiday gear, including all of the unnecessary stuff that we took and never used or touched and we still had room to see out of the back window, although the height of the luggage was too high to allow us to use the tonneau cover.

The storage inside the car was reasonable and we found enough space in the glove box to hide the TomTom satnav and also the 35 DVDs we took. Door bins, seat pockets, centre console and space under seats allowed for more storage and, because we only have two children, there was a spare seat providing a spot for in-car snacks and drinks. This spare seat also served as a useful no man's land in between those same two children. I remember that seat housing the largest coolbox ever when I was a child which served as a barrier separating me from my brother on long car journeys.

We have also taken this car camping which has meant it has been stuffed to the gunnels with "stuff" and it is just amazing how much "stuff" you can fit in the car. The issue is that the car does not come with my husband fitted as standard and if there is one person who can pack a car to within an inch of its exhaust pipe, it's my husband.

The panoramic roof would, I've no doubt, have been delightful but we had to steal the fuse for that to feed the 12V cigar lighter at the front of the car which failed on our day of departure. A fuse costs nothing (well the dealer I got the fuse from didn't charge me) and it's easy to change, but it's annoying in a car that's less than a year old to have anything fail. I did wonder whether Ford ever discovers there might be a problem if everyone just fixes it themselves although that does mean diagnosing the problem too without help.

The seats are very comfortable. For our return journey we spent about 12 hours in the car and it was more comfortable than an office chair or the sofa at home. I thought I'd miss the lack of lumbar support on the driver's seat but the seat was supportive enough without it.

The entertainment in the car was provided by Dave's iPhone iTunes library streaming via Bluetooth through the car speakers. We adjusted the sound so that we used front speakers thus minimising any audio interference with the DVDs being played on the Nextbase DVD players attached to the rear headrests and playing sound through infra red magic through to wireless headphones. (Think that sentence should probably have had a comma or two.) It was a set up that worked perfectly (12V power permitting) and if you don't have Bluetooth in your car, you need it.

The engine performed very well and provided all the power we needed even when fully loaded. We could overtake on hills and pull away from lights without any problems. We used the cruise control and in sixth gear the car was able to maintain the speed smoothly and without struggling at all.

Fuel economy though was underwhelming. The car told us we were achieving 35.9mpg which is less than I expected. I should say we were travelling at French autoroute speeds combined with twisty turny hilly roads with air-conditioning on about 70% of the time, which isn't great for brilliant fuel economy but I expect better. I know that a new car needs time to reduce the friction in the engine and improve its efficiency but this car had a thousand or two miles under its (fan) belt.

The technology that we used a lot was cruise control. On long autoroutes with the Gendarmerie being ever watchful we used cruise control to keep ourselves legal. I noticed that the car had a speed limiter too. We tried that function too but, because the system can be overridden if you kick down for extra power, I struggled to understand how it was useful.

We also used the satnav, but in conjunction with the TomTom. I don't like the Ford satnav. Firstly It didn't show the road that led to our accommodation, but the user interface isn't intuitive for me at all; I would go as far as to say frustrating. Most of the time it will get you to your destination and it will probably get you there using an efficient route and I'm sure it's possible to get used to the interface, I just prefer my TomTom.

As to the other tech in the car, we appreciated the Quickclear screen and the parking sensors. The car had a rear view camera but I didn't like it. I think it might be a spatial awareness thing and men might appreciate this feature more. I preferred to see nothing and rely on the parking distance sensors; the camera view just confused me.

In summary: We like the car so much we're getting another one, but in black.

Annoyed

2011-09-07T22:38:00.001+01:00

I will blog about the holiday car I promise, just not tonight.

This evening I had the chance to attend a local Tweetup but knew I couldn't. Dave was away for a business trip so I couldn't leave the house.

Dave being away meant leaving London in time to collect the children from the after school club, sorting out an evening meal and then rushing Ethan off to choir.

While the children were eating it occurred to me that after dropping Ethie at choir Hannah and I would be kicking our heels for about an hour until Ethie needed to be collected again. And then the penny dropped. Hannah and I could go to the Tweetup together.

I hesitated. It wasn't the type of event you'd normally take a child to but Hannah is nine years old, very sensible she knows what Twitter is. Plus it wasn't as if I'd been to previous events and seen drunken, loutish behaviour. People were drinking in moderation and were being terribly polite.

Ah, the venue, a pub. Well actually it was a room set apart from the main bar, but still a pub.

I tweeted the event organiser and asked whether it would be OK to bring a nine year old. He wasn't sure the pub allowed children. So I phoned the pub and they were absolutely fine.

But would Hannah be comfortable in a room full of Brentwood Twitterati? I asked her and she said she'd be fine. I explained in detail what previous Tweetups had been like and I checked she was still OK about turning up. She said she'd be fine.

So we went, Hannah felt very grown up, some people were lovely and spoke to both of us, and Hannah was a star performer for the magician who was doing some close up magic.

But amongst all of this I heard "She's brought her child."

Words account for 7% of communication, tone of voice 37% and body language 57%. I couldn't see the body language but the tone of voice wasn't pleasant.

Imagine the Witches in the Roald Dahl book and imagine the sneer in the voice as they might say the word "child." It's a sort of spitting sneer and that's what I heard. And the tone of voice grated. Fortunately it was almost time to leave and collect Ethan and get both children home for bedtime.

I know some people don't like children but this annoyed me. That attitude annoyed me but there was something else that annoyed me more. Hannah was between me and the voice and I just hope she didn't hear it.

I hope I misheard. I hope I got it wrong. Either way, sadly, that was the last Tweetup Hannah attends on my watch.

The holiday car

2011-09-06T22:20:00.001+01:00

I did suggest I might blog about the holiday car.

Firstly you need to know I work for Ford so, whilst I believe this to be an honest appraisal, I have had years of brain-washing. I mean seriously. Next month sees my 20 year anniversary with the Company. (If you want to send congratulatory cards the date is October 14th.)

Secondly, you should I know I was a passenger for most of the holiday, predominantly playing the part of SatMum or, as I think I should be called with the benefit of hindsight, MumNav. I did some driving, mixing up a bit of smooth and slick autoroute with twisty, turny, lumpy, bumpy roads.

Thirdly you should know I used to be part of a Drive Team. This is a bunch of (usually) educated engineering types with perhaps a random marketeer (I was the random marketeer) who appraise vehicles during the product development phase. The tests are contrived but are intended to reflect the customer experience. The Drive Team evaluate all manner of vehicle attributes (defined by the Vehicle Integration Team) such as "left foot comfort." This was always a strange attribute to my thinking as my left foot was always comfortable, but then I was enlightened by colleagues who pointed me in the direction of the left foot rest which is a feature that I had never used and still consider to be completely redundant.

One of the benefits of being "on" the Drive Team was a training session with Jackie Stewart. The only thing I really recall from the session was his advice on testing the build quality of the vehicle. Apparently, using the bottom of one's fist one should bash a vehicle body panel 15 times, because (and I quote) "Ten is not enough and 20 is too many." The wisdom of the three time World Champion was legendary. He didn't mention those World Championships at all by the way. Not ten times, not 20 times...

The other benefit was driving around proving grounds. I am pleased to say that Michigan Proving Ground has a corner named after me. I got a little over-enthusiastic taking a corner in a VW Transporter. I know, the glamour - a bloody van. But anyway I gave the Armco a friendly nudge and now, and forever more, that corner is Cardus corner.

Actually, I'll leave it there. I've given you an insight into my skills, abilities, age and admiration for the legend that is three time World Champion Jackie Stewart. I'll leave talking about the car to another day. :)

Day 15, in which we consider an investment

2011-09-04T19:34:00.001+01:00

There's a ruin of a chateau not far from where we're staying.

We'd seen it from the road and thought (as my Dad would have said) it had "potential". We drove along a few lanes and trudged along an overgrown path to take a closer look. It's perfect. Granted it would probably have cost at least a million and probably three times that to restore and return to holiday home condition avec le piscine. This, not insignificant, financial hurdle hasn't prevented us from consistently and constantly referring to it as our future holiday home. We've toyed with renaming it from Chateau Longas to Chateau Cardus (there's a wine called Chateau Cardus from a vineyard west of Bordeaux) or Dave's favourite: Chateau David.

The trouble with all of this is that we've already invested in a raft of holiday homes by investing in Holiday Property Bond. I don't want you thinking that this whole series of holiday blogs has led up to a sales pitch because that wasn't my intention. I wanted to blog about our accommodation, not because I want to brag, but because the type of accommodation we have is a little different from the norm and requires an explanation. Tomorrow's blog may well be an honest appraisal of our holiday transport. I haven't decided yet.

I've spoken to some people about Holiday Property Bond (HPB) and the first thing I say is "It isn't timeshare" because it isn't.

Firstly I must explain that I'm not a financial advisor, nor am I on commission, but I am a "customer", "owner", "investor".

The way I think about HPB is like a syndicate or co-operative who have pooled resources to invest in holiday properties in the UK and rest of Europe. This means that everyone who has invested in the Bond owns a little bit of the whole property portfolio. It is an investment and I can choose to cash it in, at which time it may have lost or gained in value. Equally I can ensure my children, and grandchildren inherit my investment, if I choose to keep it. I invested a sum that had been left to me by my Auntie Margery because she loved travelling and it seemed to be an appropriate use of the money.

My investment entitles me to points and points can be spent to book properties that are a part of the portfolio. So, for example, a £10,000 investment might be the equivalent of 10,000 points which will book two weeks in a two bed cottage in Constant in the Dordogne. The properties require maintenance and there is a maintenance charge for the period of the booking.

Normally when one books accommodation the cost is seasonal and rises dramatically during the school holidays. Because the HPB maintenance charge is just that, for maintenance, it remains constant throughout the year and is significantly lower than a high season charge for similar accommodation. The thing that is used to even out demand and supply is the number of points required to make the booking.

HPB sites usually have at least one pool and sometimes the larger properties will have their own pool. There is usually a games room, DVD library, a clubhouse with games library, children's play area, tennis courts, a reception office and often an onsite shop and/or restaurant. We've also found giant chess/chequers, mini golf, boules, bowls, WiFi, onsite PC, bar, croquet, gym, sauna, steam room. It's all very middle class.

The self-catering properties are generally of a good standard and you know what you are getting before you arrive. When travelling with young children we arrived to find our property didn't have a stairgate. We asked if it was possible to install one and it happened, within hours of our request.

We have now stayed in properties in Spain, Portugal, La Gomera, Anglesey, Brittany, Dordogne, near Paris, Madeira and Turkey. Sometimes the HPB development is wholly built and designed for HPB whereas at other times HPB has bought part of a bigger development. In our experience the bespoke developments are better.

There is a downside to the arrangement and that is that if you want to get the pick of the properties in peak season you can't book at the last minute. You do need to plan ahead. But this downside also has an upside. There is a points free booking system, 28 days before departure for UK properties and 56 days before an overseas departure This means that if you aren't tied to school holidays you can often pick up a holiday at short notice without dipping into precious points.

If you decide you don't need points for a year you can elect, in advance, to take a return on your investment instead, about 2.5% I think. And your investment can be used to book a holiday for anyone.

I think I've covered the main points but if you have questions I can try and answer them, or you can look for information yourself, if you're interested (HPB do tenancy propoerties too but that's too much to digest). It's worked for us and could work for you too.

Day 14, in which the end is nigh

2011-09-03T21:21:00.001+01:00

Tomorrow is our last full day here. This is so far past holiday hump day that we're at the bottom of the slippery slope. This is the sort of time that I start thinking about the return to home. It's when the holiday stops being pure holiday.

I've already been online to sort the shopping out for the evening that we arrive home.

I'm mentally going through the things we need to have sorted before school and work start again. It's not a very long list but I wish I'd sorted more out before now.

I had intended to keep an eye on work e-mails and I was for the first couple of days. Luckily I did some pre-holiday preparation to ensure my e-mail inbox could cope with the vacation onslaught. I picked up the 2,000 plus e-mails in the inbox and filed them all into an offline folder called "Pre holiday e-mails". Some of you are wondering how my e-mail could be so out of control.

Well it all started when I returned from a week away earlier in the year. I'd cleared down my inbox to make space for incoming e-mail missiles that would appear in my absence, but when I returned from the week away I couldn't send e-mails, or receive them. I was completely work-handicapped. I couldn't do anything and I didn't know which e-mails I hadn't been able to receive. I called the IT Helpdesk and once I'd got through the queue and spelled my surname using the phonetic alphabet and confirmed my desk location I explained I needed a bigger inbox capacity. It wasn't the first time I'd had this conversation so I knew they could fix this problem.

My argument went something like "I can't work under these conditions" and yes I think I probably used those exact words. I know that right now you're thinking that my working conditions are pretty cushty and you'd be right, they are, but everything is relative. I have the slowest laptop in the world, which nobody believes until they actually watch my machine change screen pixel by pixel, and to be hamstrung by a daft megabyte limit is just adding insult to injury. Anyway the rather bemused gentleman in Manila who was at the other end of the phone explained that I already had a substantial e-mail capacity. My retort probably used words like "multi-media", "large", "files", "part-time", "can't", "work", "under", "these" and "conditions". If he hadn't acquiesced to my request then I would probably have resorted to tears, not as some pathetic female manipulation but just because I would have been exhausted with the frustration of the whole situation. Waterworks were unnecessary though and I got what I wanted.

So my inbox doesn't need clearing to zero every week and regular deleting and filing of the stuff I get time to look at is normally enough. Every month I have a clearout of the oldest stuff and that gets me through. Holidays though are an additional strain, hence the extra preparation and hence the intent to manage things through the holiday.

It didn't last more than a couple of days so the stress of e-mail hell is starting to seep into my consciousness.

Obviously I'm doing my best to push work away so that I can continue to be in holiday mode but I know the end is nigh.

Day 13, in which we count wild things

2011-09-02T21:45:00.001+01:00

I haven't gone looking for wildlife this holiday, but I've stumbled across quite a bit.

Everyone expects little lizards to climb walls in Europe and I've seen plenty of them, but I've also seen things I didn't expect.

While driving along the local lanes we've seen red squirrels.

While paddling in the Dordogne at Beynac to cool down a viperine snake swam past. I wasn't sure I'd ever been in water when a snake had been in the same vicinity. Now granted it was small and, having done my research, I now know it wasn't venomous but I didn't know that at the time. I just stayed where I was and called to Dave, Hannah and Ethan to come and have a look.

While waiting for the boys stood next to a pond yesterday we saw two European water voles and whilst they are sometimes called water rates they are much cuter than rats. They are chubbier and have smaller ears and tails.

And today there were hundreds of swifts flying balletically next to out holiday house. They were swooping and diving and catching insects on the wing and they were incredibly beautiful.

The highlight though might have been the sight when I was watching the swifts. I heard a rush of air and then I saw it; a peregrine falcon at the end of a steep dive aiming for one of the super fast swifts. It failed and stumbled out of its dive to gradually regain height and disappear from view but it all happened within 20 metres of me. Stunning.

Day 12, in which we were utter tourists

2011-09-01T21:24:00.001+01:00

This morning sort of dissolved in the way that soluble aspirin does; one minute it's there and the next it's gone.

After lunch we went to one of the most popular tourist destinations in the area: La Roque Saint-Christophe. It's basically a big rock. It's not the first time I've visited a big rock. I mean there are the mountains on which I've skied (badly), there's Ayer's rock (or Uluru), there's Snowdon, Dartmoor, Mount St Helens, Yosemite, Badlands National Park, Hawaiian volcanoes... you get my drift.

This rock was quite cool.

The Dordogne has carved the rock around it and this has resulted in huge rock overhangs which previous generations have used for shelter including constructing houses using the natural shelter provided by the rock. But at this big rock had a ledge that was about 80 metres up from the ground and this one has been used as shelter too.

55,000 years ago the first Neanderthals used the space and the dwellings morphed over time.

The displays we saw showed how the space might have been used by Neanderthals and also by more recent occupants from medieval times.

The displays were interesting but the views were very pretty.

We drove though Les Eyzies, stopping for a touristy ice cream and then we took the scenic SatMum route home for some pool and sunshine time.

Isn't that the kind of thing holidays should be about?

Day 11, in which we revert to SatMum

2011-08-31T20:27:00.001+01:00

The plan was to drive to Sarlat. Now there's a quick way to do that (SatNav) or there's a slow way to do that (old school following maps). Now when I visited the Dordogne with my parents we always had SatMum sat in the passenger seat with a Michelin map on her lap. We tried to recreate that today.

We had seen some beautiful towns on the banks of the Dordogne that were begging to be explored and we thought we could get to Sarlat via some of these picturesque tourist magnets. In addition to these towns we wanted to travel along some specific roads which we knew to be scenic, because we'd bought ourselves a Michelin map.

I could have attempted to programme the SatNav with Sarlat as the final destination with numerous waypoints but it seemed easier to use the map. So that's what we did. We made the scenic drives and we made it to Beynac. Beynac was sunny and steep and Hannah and Ethan were a bit hot and bothered so we cut the road trip short and headed straight for Sarlat and ice cream.

Walking around Sarlat had only one thing going for it as far as the children were concerned: ice cream. After the ice cream we had trouble keeping their attention so we whizzed around the rest of the beautful, historic Sarlat and then programmed the SatNav for home sweet home, or holiday accommodation sweet holiday accommodation.

So, for part of the day at least, we recreated SatMum.

Day 10, in which we like what we don't have

2011-08-30T21:21:00.001+01:00

Is it just me that likes looking around French hypermarkets?

I know what I'll find if I wander around a UK supermarket which is why I try to avoid the experience. It's dull, boring and predictable.

French hypermarkets on the other hand are a wonderland of the new and interesting.

The food is an obvious difference, although for the life of me I couldn't find sour cream when I was looking. But for me it's all the other stuff.

We're looking for a fuse (mini 20A) for the car, see Day 1 and a French hypermarket is just the kind of place that would have something like that. Granted in the ones we've been in so far, that part of the display has been out of stock but we live in hope.

Today I saw a baguette cutting breadboard. It was a slotted breadboard with a hinged, permanently attached bread knife. Completely ridiculous, but amazing.

There were lovely china "things" which were the shape of a six inch high tumbler and which were intended for hot drinks I think even though they didn't have handles. I thought they would be perfect for ice cream sundaes.

There was bag I could easily have bought, a jug that I could have slipped into the trolley, some table linen that I could have taken home and a bowl that would have been great to take camping.

There were many aisles I didn't get to explore because as soon as I suggest I want to wander and browse, Dave's eyes roll and I know he doesn't approve. It's just not his thing so I just get away with a brief glimpse in the time it takes for Dave to get through the checkout. It simply isn't long enough.

Day 9, in which the British really shouldn't

2011-08-29T19:57:00.001+01:00

Today we took charge, as promised, and we took les enfants canoeing along the Dordogne. We'd found a place that bussed us 14 km up river and gave us until 7pm to find our way back to the car. We figured the 11:30 departure should give us plenty of time.

We hadn't figured on two children that can't manage a canoe paddle to save their respective lives. Gah! Two canoes may not have been the smartest choice and next time Dave and I are sharing a canoe and the kids can make their own way.

I jest, sort of, although it did take us until 5pm and we were the last of our group to make it. I guess that means there might have been people who didn't make it, but who am I kidding?

Canoeing is a fabulous, relaxing way to see the country, and the views from the river were outstanding, not to mention the non-stop sunshine.

The only fly in the canoeing ointment, apart from the delightful damselflies that accompanied us, was an international incident.

There is a lot of macho bravado on the river. There are men who "own" the paddle and who are "in charge" of the canoe ensuring their ladies are safe and reach their destination unharmed, there is the horseplay of young men tipping canoes over and generally larking around, and there is the football hooligan who is seemingly lost.

We came across a few canoes exchanging insults. Effectively there were canoes containing British hooligans who were goading a group of French young men. There were insults flying in French and English and the English guys were timing their insults such that they thought they could paddle their way out of danger if necessary. I know this because I heard them discussing their escape strategy.

It escalated to the point when one English lad shouted up river to the French group "Come and 'av a go if you think you're 'ard enough!"

The French decided the English boys, with their all too obvious insecurities, weren't worth the trip.

I was embarrassed for our nation.

Day 8, in which we got it very wrong

2011-08-28T20:30:00.001+01:00

Today we let the children run the show.

Hannah came with me to the bakery van and she asked for the pain au chocolat, pain au raisin, croissant and baguette. It went a bit pear-shaped when there wasn't enough pain au raisin but we coped.

We encouraged the children to browse a leaflet promoting the various activities in the area designed to attract tourists. We asked them which attractions they wanted to visit.

One of the places they chose was Les Jardins De L'Imaginaire, which seemed like a good choice. The main image was of an area full of fountains emerging from the ground and the description was of six hectares of beautiful gardens and fountains. Show me a child that doesn't like running around a garden and playing in fountains.

It was only open for a few hours in the morning and a few in the afternoon with a long siesta in between. I guessed it was about an hour away so we planned to leave at one o'clock to arrive at two.

We loaded just one of the SatNavs with the postcode and I picked one of the random streets attached to that postcode as I couldn't find the exact one mentioned in the literature.

45 minutes later we arrived at the destination, except it wasn't. We'd reached the autoroute which was the random road I'd selected earlier. We pulled over and considered our position. We used the internet and maps on our phones to find we were actually a further 45 minutes from our intended destination.

When we arrived we discovered we could only enter the gardens by joining a guided tour, in French. We paid up and were presented with a English printout of the tour. The children were unimpressed.

It was dull. The gardens were OK but I couldn't help feeling that if the Royal Horticultural Society got their hands on it then it would be much much better. We eventually, after much "I'm bored", "I'm thirsty" and "I'm hungry" noises (from Hannah but mainly Ethan), arrived at the fountain in the picture. It wasn't a fountain for play. It was just one stopping point on the guided tour.

Ethan and Hannah tried to enjoy the fountain but I knew we were simply annoying people who wanted to take arty photos with their large-lensed cameras.

We left as soon as was decently appropriate. Tomorrow the adults are in charge.

Day 7, in which we learn about the hittopotamus

2011-08-28T06:54:00.001+01:00

At dinner Ethan launched into his routine of "Did you know..." and today it was the little known fact that "...hedgehogs can have up to five million spines?"

No I hadn't known that.

Earlier in the day I'd received a text in which someone told me they'd sorted out Tom's birthday party and could I hold the date. I have no idea who texted me and I had no idea which Tom was having the party. I consulted the children to see f they could shed light on the situation.

Ethan named the two Tommy's in his class with their exact birthdays. How did he remember that?

I told Ethan he must have a huge memory, a huge hippocampus and there then followed a discussion about the difference between a hippopotamus, a hippocampus and a hittopotamus (what Ethan used to call a hippopotamus and, if I'm honest, still does).

We talked about London cabbies and their extraordinary memories because they need to learn the Knowledge and experiments have shown this results in enlarged hippocampi (plural of hippocampus?)

Dave piped up about the Dichotomous which is a large, two-headed, plant-eating mammal that lives in water, and to round things off I told him about the Monotonous which is a large, boring, plant-eating mammal that lives in water.

Day 6, in which Ethan is funny

2011-08-26T20:44:00.001+01:00

This was the day that Dave and I relived a part of our childhoods.

We'd both holidayed in the Dordogne as children and both remember visiting caves in the area, none more impressive than Le Gouffre de Padirac near Rocamadour.

It was ideal cave visiting weather: wet and cold-ish. We set off on a two hour journey with children plugged into Wallace and Gromit and The Curse of the Were Rabbit via the DVD players.

The SatNavs (always used in pairs) made for an interesting journey. Even when we were passing signs clearly indicating Le Gouffre de Padirac we followed the SatNav and whilst the roads we took weren't exactly farm tracks, they proved to be an excellent route to test suspension ride quality.

The caves were perhaps more impressive than I remember, but being there triggered a few things I'd forgotten. Like my Dad's vertigo which he struggled to overcome as we climbed the steps towards the top of the steepest and highest cliff face within the cave. I didn't remember the boat ride being as long as it was and I'm pretty sure the souvenir photo didn't feature when I was last there.

When we emerged into the daylight the rain was still there. We ate lunch and headed home, children watching Wallace and Gromit on the return journey too.

Hunger was on our minds when we returned and I knew that we'd booked an archery session which would delay the evening meal so I opened a family-sized bag of bolognese flavoured crisps. Not the nicest flavour I've ever tasted but Ethan was a fan.

He said they were better than ready salted, better than salt 'n' vinegar and better than porn and cocktails.

Day 5, in which Ethan was bored

2011-08-25T19:04:00.002+01:00

As threatened, today was the day for exploring Bergerac.
For the record, it was quicker and easier to get to the Carrefour in Bergerac that it was to get to the one we went to on Day Three. Not that we bothered to enter, but we passed it, twice.
Dave, being Dave, had printed off a list of walks in the local area before we left home. One of these walks was around Bergerac. So we used the trusty SatNavs (they should always be used in pairs) and they plonked us right near the old town.
Time to crack open the pain au chocolat from the bakery van.
We put Hannah in charge of navigating because she's good at it and Ethan wasn't interested. And Ethan's lack of interest spilled out over everything for the rest of the morning.
He was bored. Bergerac was boring. The wine museum was boring. The market was boring. The churches were boring. I was boring.
When it was time to stop and eat our lunch it was a blessed relief from the constant boredom spout that was my son.
I know you're thinking that there's some bad parenting going on here. There must be a way to engage a small child and make a leisurely amble around an historic town interesting. I tried, I really did. When we got to the market we talked about the big fish on display and whether this was the biggest fish he'd ever seen. Along the river bank we looked for boats and fish and rats (yes, there was a rat - what could be more exciting than a rat? Was it a water rat or just a dirty rat?). We looked for woodworm in the beams on the old buildings and talked about how how some of the new buildings were being built in the style of the old buildings. We talked about cars and statues, dog poo and ice cream. It was all boring.
So after lunch, eaten in sight of a crêperie and ice cream parlour (not sure what the french term for one of those is), Ethan wanted an ice cream, or crêpe. I wasn't sure that such an objectionable child was eligible for such a treat. It was then that Ethan promised that if he were allowed such a treat he wouldn't be bored for the whole of the holiday.
We succumbed to ice cream because French ice cream is really quite nice. But Ethan's was a hollow promise that lasted but a few hours.
Back at the ranch his mood improved while he was splashing around in the pool, but then he got cold (we didn't understand this as we were baking in the 30˚C plus heat). And whilst he was recovering under a towel by the poolside, he declared he was "More bored than a bored person in Boredland."
I am clearly a failed mother, and boring to boot.

Day 4, in which we got our arses whooped

2011-08-24T21:42:00.001+01:00

And the heavens opened. It started with a bit of thunder and lightening and then came and went during the day. It mainly went but when it came we were glad we stayed in.

We could have got up early and visited some impressive local caves or made it into Bergerac for a damp walk around the market, but we opted for less energetic activities, save for a late splash around in a pool.

After the obligatory visit to the bakery van, in time for pain au chocolat this time, we taught Hannah how to play cribbage. We considered this a great bit of holiday homework. To play well it is necessary to have grasp of probabilities, hone observational skills and be quick with mental arithmetic.

The first game was played with cards visible to aid learning. This was won by Hannah.

Ethan had been observing the cribbage training and joined the next game, played with cards visible, and won by Ethan.

There were a few games that followed and, whilst Dave and I escaped complete humiliation by winning occasionally, we still had our arses whooped.

To further the children's tuition in educational gaming, we then moved on to Yahtzee, which also relies a knowledge of probabilities and quick mental arithmetic. They beat us at that too.

I think we might treat them to a tour of Bergerac tomorrow

Day 3, in which we eventually had our daily pain au chocolat

2011-08-24T17:02:00.001+01:00

The children woke at 7:30 which would normally be fine but this place is in the middle of nowhere.

The previous night I had looked across the fields and trees for a sign of civilisation. I spotted two lights in the distance, close to the horizon. In such peace and tranquility children can sound like a group of hyenas, and ours do, especially Ethan. Dave tried gently to ask Ethan to use his quiet voice whereas I veer towards the "Shhhh!". Neither has any impact for more than five seconds.

So at 7:30am I'm very conscious that the only noises I can hear come from my overly loud children.

We readied ourselves for a trip to the bakery van and, on the walk through the village, I prepare Ethan and Hannah to ask for "deux baguette et quatre pain au chocolat" and to say good morning with "Bonjour Madame." and to say thankyou with either a "Merci Madame" or a "Merci beaucoup".

She had no pain au chocolat. We hadn't arrived in time. We'd failed. Brunch or "coffee time" as it's known in our house, was doomed. The only thing that could save us was a trip to the shops.

The lady at reception, when asked, had explained that the best supermarket to head for was in Bergerac. Being independent British people armed with technology we knew better. Had I not specifically downloaded all Carrefour locations into my TomTom? It was obvious to one and all that we were equipped for this challenge.

I asked the in-car SatNav where the nearest Shopping Centre was. I asked the TomTom where the nearest Carrefour was. They agreed. Off we went.

Except we didn't go anywhere near Bergerac. In fact we went in the opposite direction. For 46 kilometres. Is anywhere in France further than 46 kilometres from the nearest Carrefour? Really?

Once committed we couldn't admit that the lady, who lived locally and knew the area well, knew better than our technology, so we forged on knowing secretly that we were making a mistake.

Eventually we arrived, we shopped, we bought pain au chocolat and we ate pain au chocolat. We have an inkling there may be a better way. We might freestyle it next time and follow the signs saying Bergerac.

Day 2, in which we were not caught speeding

2011-08-22T21:43:00.001+01:00

We had a leisurely start on Day 2 but at least we had in-car entertainment for the children because of our diligent efforts on Day 1.

The journey ahead of us was only about five hours plus stops but it's always nice to arrive early.

On a previous trip to France (skiing in Morzine) we'd been stopped for speeding. I wasn't driving.

Being stopped by the French Gendarmerie was an unpleasant experience as we were escorted to an autoroute exit and Dave was extracted from the car and disappeared. For ages. To be honest I thought they might be taking the opportunity for a bit of police brutality but actually they just wanted to hammer his credit card.

So Dave was sticking to the speed limit, or close to it.

On Day 1 I'd come up with a little ditty to keep Dave under the speed limit. Every time I thought he was straying above the speed limit I'd say "Be bar be bar, nick nick nick." which I know sounds really stupid. Well let's dissect it. The "Be bar be bar" bit it is my pathetic police car impression that Dave ridicules and the "Nick nick nick" bit is my little reminder that if he continues he'll be nicked.

Dave obviously has visual access to a speedometer because we didn't disconnect the speedo on Day 1. We also have the satnav plugged in (yes, as well as the in-car nav) and the satnav shows the real speed of the car (I should put a disclaimer in here because it might not be 100% accurate) because it uses satellites. And the satnav highlights the speed in red if it decides you're travelling too far over the speed limit. This relies on it storing the right speed limit data but I had just updated map information so it was sort of accurate.

Well Ethan was looking out for the red speed and every time he saw it he said (in a loud and annoying voice) "Be bar be bar nick nick nick." And he said it again, and again, and again. Dave asked Ethan how long he wanted the journey to be and I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that Dave said that because if Dave slowed down the journey would last longer but no....he was hinting that if Ethan carried on he'd be walking.

"Be bar be bar, nick nick nick."

Day 1, in which I am a genius

2011-08-22T20:19:00.001+01:00

Day 1 looked promising.

We were out of bed, showered and breakfasted and we'd packing things in the car before I'd even remembered the first thing I'd forgotten.

Then I remembered Ethan hadn't written a Thank you card for his great Granny's birthday present, I remembered he hadn't done the one piece of homework he'd been given over the holidays (drawing a picture of our house), and I remembered I was going to try and find some architectural drawings, sign a contract and write a cheque. It was all going so well.

One by one the items on the to-do list were eliminated (although frankly Ethan's effort at drawing our house was extremely pathetic and didn't even have a front door, but I was past caring) and we left on time, or would have done were it not for the fly in the ointment.

In preparation for driving across France (which, if you've not done it, is a long way) I'd bought a super duper DVD thing that attached to headrests and allows children to watch different DVDs.

We had one of these previously but it only played one DVD across two screens and we found the age and gender difference meant there were only two films Hannah and Ethan could ever agree on. Then I mashed one of the leads in a Galaxy front seat height mechanism which was kindly replaced by Mr Argos without charge. After some sterling service the 12V power lead lost it's metal end which, for the technically-minded among you, signals a problem as it's the metal bit that carries the electricity. It still worked when plugged into the mains however which was a boon when Ford started producing cars with 3-pin sockets for rear seat passengers. But eventually the discs stopped playing and we figured the player was destined for the great scrapheap in the sky, or at least the tip on Coxtie Green Road.

I'd tested the super duper player before our departure day because I knew there would be nothing more frustrating than the cries from the second row of seat "Mum, it won't play." or "Mum, how do I turn it on?" or "I can't hear anything." etc. I knew how to attach it to the headrests using the stanchion mounts (even though I have no idea what stanchion means). I could insert discs, get the audio coming through on the infra red speakers and adjust volume, pause the disc and anything else you could mention. So it was a surprise on D-Day when it didn't work.

I married an engineer and, whilst I'm not an engineer, I do have a mind that works in a similar way. We started the diagnosis and quickly hit upon issue with the 12V socket and suspected a fuse malfunction.

Five minutes late for our self-imposed departure target we headed off, mindful of the need to fix the fuse issue. Dave drove and I assaulted the Owner's Handbook.

I suggested switching the instrument panel fuse for the faulty one as they shared the same current rating. Dave thought we might need an instrument panel so I proffered the sunroof as an alternative swap. The car didn't have a sunroof but I guessed the handbook was referring to the panoramic roof which is nice but not exactly essential. We opted for trying to find a new fuse.

A new fuse could come from a dealership except they all close on Sunday. A quick tweet asking for advice resulted in several suggestions of Halfords but Dave was on a mission to make it to Eurotunnel.

In the AA shop at Eurotunnel Dave found fuses galore, both full-sized and mini. At the same time I discovered the S-MAX had a rear power socket and plugged the DVD player into that.

So we had a temporary fix and the materials for a permanent fix. Or so we thought.

We drove to our overnight stop at Orléans and, while I cooked, Dave went to fix the car. He'd seen and thought he'd bought mini fuses but had instead bought two sets of normal fuses and it was the mini ones he needed. After much huffing and puffing and maybe a word or two in French, he swapped the sunroof and 12V power socket fuses. Which I think is what I suggested earlier in the day.

Watching, listening and learning

2011-08-11T23:17:00.001+01:00

We were driving in the car today listening to the news on Radio 4.

We were listening to reports about the riots around the country. There were words like violence, riots and criminality reaching our ears. When we reached home Ethan wanted to tell me something.

"Mummy. You know the riots?"

"Yes."

"You know the criminal stuff?"

"Yes."

"We don't do that do we? It's something we don't do."

"That's right. We don't. And I hope you never will."

Media circus

2011-08-08T21:59:00.001+01:00

I'm middle class, middle aged, read the Guardian (online) and watch C4 News. My views are thus influenced.

I think the riots that have been taking place over the last few days have nothing, or very little, to do with the shooting of Mark Duggan.

Initially, in Tottenham, there was a peaceful protest. Word spread, and people who weren't happy with police stop and search policy joined the protest but stepped it up a notch with violence and thuggery aimed predominantly at the police.

What happened next was that word spread further. Something was happening and it was probably more exciting than Saturday night telly. So people headed out onto the streets and the police represented authority. Authority, the Government, was what had reduced benefits and screwed up the economy so that getting a job was nigh on impossible. Making a big fuss about that seemed attractive.

Whilst the violent protests were happening the disaffected realised that they had power and could get away with pretty much anything. The police were under-resourced, because of the Government cuts, and were outnumbered. So the looting started. If you don't have a job and your benefits have been cut then the opportunity to steal the stuff you can't afford to buy might have been tempting.

The media were all over this rioting and the social networking sites were awash with images and video. Everyone was looking at Tottenham and, let's be honest, people normally don't care about Tottenham at all. I'm not anti-Tottenham; I could equally say that people don't care about Newton Abbot. The point was that nobody cared until people were misbehaving.

It's a bit like children being naughty to get attention. The child that's being naughty (Tottenham) gets all of the attention and the previously good child (Hackney) is jealous. The good child then resorts to bad behaviour because it knows that being bad results in attention.

So we now have Tottenham, Hackney, Lewisham, Stratford, Catford, Croydon, Bethnal Green, Whitechapel, Enfield, Birmingham and so on, all competing to be on Sky News, BBC News, C4 News, Twitter, Facebook, etc.

And now Cameron is coming back to sort out the naughty children; but every parent knows that this sort of behaviour should have consequences without attention. We need a metaphorical naughty step.

I'm not retweeting pictures of rioting because this behaviour should not be promoted and given air time. I honestly believe that media, including social media, is making this situation worse. But it's the people behind the cameras and the people retweeting the images that are helping to promote the riots. So stop it. Please.

The pros and cons of Twitter

2011-08-06T18:42:00.001+01:00

Twitter can be great, but today was a day when perhaps I should only have looked at my twitter stream in the morning.

Today was the day we were taking Hannah and Ethan to stay with their aunt and uncle in Surrey.

This morning, as every morning, I turned my phone on to see what was happening in the Twitterverse and saw a handy little bit of information tweeted by @M25_Traffic:

I did some investigating and realised there was no easy way to get through the traffic caused by this closure. We could have driven through London but I'm sure too many other people would have had that thought so we started to consider alternatives. Friends (who clearly don't know me well) suggested taking the helicopter but Ethan suggested the train.

I had a look and the journey wasn't too long and the fare wasn't unreasonable. I wanted to check the online fare would be the same as a fare bought in the station so called National Express and spoke to someone in an Indian call centre who confirmed it would be. The Indian call centre features further on in the story but probably deserves a blog in its own right.

We drove to the station, parked in the £3.90 car park and bought our train tickets. The earlier research into fares paid off as I was able to tell the person at the ticket desk that the first fare he quoted was too high and that there was a cheaper alternative.

No sooner had we made it to the right platform it became clear that we weren't going to be able to travel from Shenfield. There had been a fatality at Brentwood and the location of the fatality was now a crime scene and no trains would be passing through.

This was confirmed by @NRE_NXEA:

We assessed our options and someone at the station suggested driving to West Horndon and catching a train from on the C2C line.

I went back to the ticket desk and asked whether we should get a refund on our tickets and start again, or whether the tickets we had bought would be valid on the C2C line. I was told that a refund wasn't necessary and our tickets would be valid.

We realised the £3.90 car parking charge wouldn't be refundable which seemed wrong but got in the car and made our way to West Horndon. En route I called National Express and had the most frustrating conversation with a woman in the same Indian call centre. I wanted to know whether West Horndon was the most sensible alternative to Shenfield. She failed to listen and comprehend the situation and she clearly had no idea about the geography of Essex and where Shenfield was in relation to anywhere. It was when she finally suggested the best alternative was Brentwood (remember, the crime scene, the location of the fatality, all of which had been explained earlier in the call) that I nearly lost my patience.

At West Horndon, forking out more for another car park, we made it onto the right train, and platform.

We made our way with children and umpteen bags (containing amongst other things a Nintendo Wii and two child car seats) to Surrey and arrived in time for lunch. And then it was time to say goodbye to the children and head back home.

As we travelled back towards Waterloo I checked my Twitter feed and saw this:

This worried me. We had been told our tickets would be valid on C2C but this tweet said something different. Our car was parked at a C2C station. It seemed we had three choices: buy tickets back to West Horndon and the car, travel back to Shenfield and get a taxi to West Horndon to collect the car, or challenge the ticket validity change.

I tweeted back:

Somehow @nationalrailenq had been following events and decided to pitch in with their view

But their response was very similar @NRE_NXEA:

Help how exactly?:

And so it went on. Now if I hadn't seen the tweet about tickets no longer being accepted on C2C services I would have been none the wiser. We would have travelled back assuming our tickets were valid and we would have been fine. So I pretended I hadn't seen the tweet, whilst continuing my dialogue with @NRE_NXEA on Twitter because I could, and it provided amusement for the return journey.

Our tickets weren't challenged, but I did have the evil notion that I should send a tweet like this:

The answer

2011-08-01T22:52:00.001+01:00

Last week I blogged a blog about a maths problem that had been set for primary school homework. I asked you how you'd solve the problem.

Here's how I solved it. I thought like a child, which is how I solve a lot of problems.

A reminder of the problem: How do you work out which two whole numbers between 50 and 70 which, when multiplied together produce 4095?

I thought about what times tables a child should be expected to know at the age of nine and how those tables might relate to the question.

I realised that the number 4095 ended in a five which would mean that one of the numbers I was looking for (between 50 and 70) would have to be divisible by five but, because 4095 ends in a five, it would also have to end in a five.

This meant that one of the multipliers was either 55 or 65. From here the maximum number of calculations the pupil has to do is two. I did some long division (actually I cheated and used my calculator because it's decades since I've done any long division) and discovered that the multipliers are 65 and 63.

Ta da!

But I am in awe of the far more impressive calculations that many of you proffered. I am not worthy (despite still having the scientific calculator that I had at school). You can all have a sticker.

Emergency School Holiday Plan

2011-07-29T22:12:00.005+01:00

I normally save this for a point later in the school summer holidays. It's the "Emergency School Holiday Plan" which should only be deployed in case of emergencies.
Yesterday was the first day of the holidays that I was spending with Hannah and Ethan.
Last Friday didn't count because a) it was an inset day and b) Hannah spent most of the day at the local horse sanctuary having an "experience". She was mucking out horses, preparing feed, grooming and generally having a good time and learning about horses (and pigs and goats and....because even though it's a horse sanctuary they do other things too.)
Weekends don't count because they don't and because weekends happen all year; school holidays don't.
Monday to Wednesday didn't count because the children were staying with their grandparents.
So yesterday was our first day together. And I had an appointment with British Gas in the morning and "Fridgeman" in the afternoon.
Our boiler has been kaput for an age and this was the first time I'd been able to get an appointment on a day when I could be at home during the morning or afternoon. And our fridge went pop earlier this week so Dave arranged for Fridgeman (nice chap from C & M Domestic Appliances) to pop round and fix the fridge (or try to).
This meant we were tied to the house and, after a DVD morning, the children needed a project. I resorted to the tried and tested plan without any regard for the consequences: Camping in the garden.
I didn't get the big tents out, just the two man tent that Dave and I used to use. The project involves putting the tent up, making up beds and ensuring the tent is filled with home comforts and then, the final touch, sleeping in the tent overnight.
I now have nowhere to go. The Emergency Plan has been deployed and there is nothing left.

Maths homework

2011-07-25T20:16:00.001+01:00

Yes really. Maths homework.

I know, I know, 90% of you have switched off now because if there's one thing you weren't good at when you were at school it was Maths, or Math if you're American. Well imagine you have a nine or ten year old who has come home with homework. Do you want to know the type of homework that they might receive these days?

Well this homework wasn't received by one of my children but by a friend's.

I got this text "Hi Ann. I hope you're well. 'Cos you're really good at maths. How do you work out which two whole numbers between 50 and 70 which, when multiplied together produce 4095? (Johnny's homework) Is it a case of trial and error?"

Well firstly can I set the record straight... I used to be better than average at Maths. I did take two Maths A Levels and even went on to study Maths at University. The decision to study Maths at University was stupid and I should have listened to my A Level teachers who warned me that it was a stupid decision.

So anyway, can you work it out? It's from an old SATS paper.

Is this what we expect our nine year olds to be able to do?

Diggerland June 11

2011-07-18T20:10:00.003+01:00

Diggerland June 11, a set on Flickr.

Diggerland trip for Hannah's birthday. If you haven't been, you should (Rochester in Kent and elsewhere around the UK).

Confession

2011-07-16T21:23:00.001+01:00

It's Saturday evening and if I were religious I might be preparing a confession.

I'm not religious but here's a confession anyway.

To the owner of the Seat parked outside my house, registration number ND07 KUJ, I'm sorry.

I called the police and reported it as abandoned. It was Lesley's fault really.

I'd spotted your car after it had acquired the parking ticket. I noticed that the car stayed there for a few days after the ticket was stuck to the windscreen.

Lesley deliberately bumped into me to discuss the car, suggesting I should report it.

I'm easily led and, after inspecting the car (6 month tax disc expiring at the end of the month and some collision damage on the driver's side), I called the local bobby who was a woman. What's the feminine of bobby or is it just bobby?

Nothing has happened. There's been no activity to slap an offensive "POLICE AWARE" sticker on the vehicle so I assume it's not stolen or abandoned.

And I bumped into Patrick. He'd also reported it, but to the Council, who have equally taken no action. Do the Council call the Police? Who should be notified? Where should nosey neighbours turn when their inner Neighbourhood watch emerges?

Patrick had the best idea. We should phone webuyanycar.com and make a bit of money. Now there's a thought.

Stupid design

2011-07-11T22:16:00.001+01:00

I sometimes take pills.

Sometimes they're the compressed powder ones (like Paracetamol or Aspirin), sometimes they are the sugar coated ones (like Ibuprofen) and sometimes they are the caplets (made up word) (like Co-codamol or Fluoxetine). (Haven't taken Fluoxetine for a while although I keep threatening to.)

The compressed powder tablets are disgusting and dry and have to be taken with water.

The sugar coated ones are yummy but only if quickly swallowed with water because as soon as that sugar coating wears off you're left with the foul taste of the drug.

The plastic caplet things are the worst by far. In the first instance they are usually huge (except Fluoxetine which was quite modest in size). The dumb thing about these is that they also need to be taken with water but they float. They float!!!

You pop a caplet in your mouth and add some water and the damn caplet is floating on top of the water in your mouth and when it's floating it's further away from where it needs to be which is the throat. All of this means that it's harder to take the medicine to the point that the caplet starts to dissolve. And that's just gross. You're left panicking and desperate to swallow the drugs.

Anyway all of this explains why I actually (madness and toothache apart) try and avoid pill popping.

The ultimate strapless bra

2011-07-09T20:33:00.001+01:00

Strapless bras are generally useless. I've lost track of the number I've bought and discarded soon after because they simply don't work.

The first issue is that generally, in order to provide support that isn't there because of the lack of straps, they are very substantial. This means that a low neckline can't be accommodated.

Some strapless bras are constructed of such heavyweight materials, in an attempt to provide support, that they don't mould to the body and the wearer spends all day hoiking the bra back in place.

Then there are the multiway bras which are the worst of all strapless bras. As a bra worn with straps they are overly bulky and cumbersome and as a strapless bra they usually lack shape and support.

Wonderbra has the answer and they call it the Ultimate Strapless Bra.

I've used it, more than once, and it is, quite simply, brilliant and well worth the money (about £34).

The first this that impressed me was its ability to stay in place. All day. Once it's on, that's it until you, or someone else, decides it needs to come off. And it's as comfortable as any other bra but so much better than any other strapless bra I have ever bought.

The second thing is that it can be worn with low top. It sits quite low which means that the dip at the cleavage point is quite low.

The last thing is either a plus point or a negative depending upon your point of view. It enhances cleavage. I don't need or want that and I think it makes me look like a matron but there are plenty of cleavage enhancing bras on the market which tells me there's a demand. As far as I'm concerned it's a disadvantage I'm happy to live with and I know others will see it as a bonus.

A new use for Twitter

2011-06-26T21:56:00.001+01:00

Today I took several of Hannah's friends off to Diggerland.

I understand that when someone else is taking your child somewhere there's some nervousness on the part of the parent. You want to know your child is safe and having fun.

I could have texted parents regularly. I could have tweeted our progress using my usual Twitter account but the tweets would have been meaningless and overly numerous for people who follow that account. So I decided to set up an event Twitter account.

The Twitter account @260611 was created for today. To follow it parents didn't need to set up a Twitter account they could just go straight to twitter.com/260611.

This provided, almost, real time reporting of activity, except where I needed my hands for driving or eating or whatever.

As well as reassurance for parents it provides the children with a record of the day.

The only issue was relying on the 3G network to upload images. This was suboptimal but not a project killer. And the next time I need a similar facility I just need to change the account name.

Root canal myth buster

2011-06-20T22:39:00.001+01:00

Scary isn't it? You're recoiling at the thought. You're perhaps imagining pain travelling like electricity along nerves, causing the worst pain imaginable.

Well I've been there, and I have a few myths to bust.

This morning I went to the dentist with a dental abscess. I'd obviously googled the condition and after reading the words "can be fatal" and "should see dentist as soon as possible" I was outside the dental surgery at 8:00am this morning to obtain an emergency appointment at 8:50am.

The dentist had a quick look, took three x-rays (that's what the bill said but I swear he only took one), and told me I needed a root canal treatment.

I broke out into a cold sweat and adrenalin coursed through my veins. The flight response was stronger than the fight response but my body was definitely responding to a threat.

I asked the dentist lots of questions and he told me he was going to drill a hole in the back of the tooth, put some antibiotics in the drilled hole (despite the fact I'd already started a course of antibiotics) and then apply a temporary filling.

I asked if he was going to give me an anaesthetic injection (because those can really hurt) and he said "No" which worried me. He explained the nerve was dead and I wouldn't feel a thing.

I was unbelievably nervous. Root canal treatment has a bad reputation, but today I discovered that, if the nerve has died, then root canal treatment is painless and really quick.

Granted my body was full of adrenalin and that natural inbuilt pain relief wore off after about an hour, but a dose of Nurofen was all it took to put me back into a pain-free state.

I was at work by 9:20am. I certainly didn't expect that.

So if your dentist uses the words root canal treatment, don't panic. It'll be OK*.

*providing the nerve is dead

The NHS is sick

2011-06-18T16:53:00.001+01:00

On Thursday I needed a doctor's appointment. I thought I was suffering from Bruxism and was controlling the resultant pain with painkillers which was proving to be a moderately successful strategy. When I was told my doctor wasn't available until Tuesday I thought I could wait and manage with painkillers until the appointment.

On Saturday I reached a point where the painkillers were no longer working, the pain was intense and I needed help.

It wasn't an emergency because I hadn't broken anything and I wasn't going to die so A&E was out of the question. I didn't want to trouble an out of hours doctor who might be on call so, in tears, I drove to the local Community Hospital. There was a sign pointing to the side of the building for the Out of Hours service. I went though the doors and was met with advice to use antibac gel to keep germs at bay. There was no gel dispenser to be seen.

The Out of Hours service seemed to be through doors that were locked. There was a sign on the door stating that it was a wheelchair and ambulance access only and all others were to use the main entrance. I walked, in tears and in the rain, round to the main entrance to find that was also locked. A security chap poked his head through a window and when I explained what I was looking for he pointed me in the direction of the doors I'd tried initially. I walked, frustrated, in tears and in the rain, back to the first set of doors and used the intercom.

I was asked what I wanted and I explained. I was asked whether I had an appointment and when I said "No." I was told I needed to call my doctor to get an appointment. He offered to come out and explain.

In tears and very frustrated and called my doctor and handed over my details for an appointment at the Out of Hours doctor based at the Community Hospital. I was told I'd get a call.

The chap at the hospital came to find me mid call to the Out of Hours service and let me in. He explained my details needed to come through on the system before I could see the doctor. I could tell he thought I was a case deserving pity and I heard him talking to someone in an office who needed to know I was already there and in a lot of pain. He was right, by the way, I was pitiful.

About a minute later my details popped through onto the hospital system and I was in seeing the doctor with the bad body odour. The BO is immaterial but when you're in pain and want to get better being overpowered by BO isn't great.

He told me he didn't think it was an abscess (which was the result of my own self-diagnosis) but he wrote me a prescription for antibiotics anyway. He told me I needed to see a dentist. You see if it was an abscess then I would need to see a dentist but bruxism is caused by mental health factors which can't be fixed by a dentist. It probably can't be fixed by a doctor either but he has more of a chance of knowing what needs doing.

I asked if there was an out of hours dental service and he laughed and said getting to see a dentist was a nightmare. He told me that if I turned up at A&E they might have a dentist on duty. This wasn't overly reassuring.

I left, having had no sight of any antibac gel, with a useless prescription and a growing sense of despair.

I still have pain. The painkillers are barely touching the surface.

I'm off to see Derren Brown tonight. You might think I'm mad but distraction is a good cure for pain. Additionally there is just a tiny bit of me that is hoping that Derren might somehow hypnotise me and make the pain go away. This may seem like clutching at straws and you'd be right, but sometime straws are the only things left.

Orange and date muffins and indignant rage

2011-06-17T21:48:00.004+01:00

I made these the other day because I needed to make something and happened to have both oranges and dates in the house.

I was feeling guilty about not having baked anything for the School Sports Day cake sale so, in the small window of time I have on Thursdays between leaving work and doing the school run, I got baking.
I took these, fresh from the oven to the school office. I went to the Infant School office first and was met with a blank look. They weren't expecting any bakes but wanted a quick peek to see what I'd made. Freshly baked orange and date muffin aroma filled the office and was quickly followed by the request for a sample. We agreed I ought to check the Junior School office.
As I handed over my wares to the Junior School office they said "Thanks. If it's rained off can we have these in the staff room?"
What would you have said? I used a small window of time in a busy week to bake muffins for a cake sale to raise funds for the school and the office staff fancied diverting them to the staffroom. What I thought and what I said differed. What I said, through gritted teeth, was "Only if you give some money to charity."
Anyway, Sports Day was rained off but the cake sale went ahead. My indignant rage wasn't required.
But we digress. Easy peasy orange and date muffins.
Ingredients

280g plain flour
1 1/2 baking powder
1/2 soda bicarbonate
pinch of salt
110g sugar (caster or granulated)
1 egg
4 tsps of orange rind, roughly what you'd get from two large oranges
180ml orange juice (from the grated oranges and topped up with stuff from a carton)
90ml corn oil
85g chopped dates (I used posh medjool dates but only because they were in the fridge taking up space and needed eating/cooking. I'm sure any dates would be just fine.)

Optional, but oh so sticky and gooey, glaze

85g icing sugar
4 tsps orange juice
1/4 tsp grated orange rind

Method

This recipe makes about 11 muffins so pop your muffin cases in your muffin tin and crank the oven up to 160°C.
In a large bowl stir flour, baking powder soda bicarb, salt and sugar.
In another bowl, beat egg and add grated rind, juice and oil.
Pour wet mixture into dry and stir until no dry flour remains. Add dates in final few strokes.
Spoon into muffin cases and bake for 20 minutes ish, until they are a lovely golden brown.
Wile the muffins are baking combine the glaze ingredients and then drizzle over hot muffins when they come out of the oven.
These muffins freeze well (as I told the lady in the school office.)

Enjoy.

Ginger loaf (with butter icing)

2011-06-13T22:24:00.001+01:00

I made this for the first time the other week and it worked first time. I didn't do the butter icing because it seemed messy and overly complicated for an office bake. For home consumption where there's time, crockery, cutlery etc and not just cake tins and napkins, then the butter icing might be a nice add.

I have to say it was on a table next to the cherry and pecan muffins and nobody chose the ginger loaf except me. Their loss. I thought it was yummy.

Ingredients

450g plain flour
1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
pinch of salt
6 fat knobs of stem ginger in syrup, roughly chopped
220g soft brown sugar
170g unsalted butter
350g golden syrup
280ml milk
1 egg
(150g unsalted butter at room temperature and 200g icing sugar for butter icing)

Method

Grease and line two 900g (large) loaf tins. This means buttering the tins, lining with baking parchment and buttering the baking parchment. I hate this part of baking but it is worth the effort.
Preheat fan oven to 160°C.
Stir flour, ground ginger, baking powder, bicarb and salt. Add chopped ginger and stir again.
Tip butter, sugar and golden syrup into a saucepan and warm through. It helps to chop the butter and you are warming everything through, not cooking it. You just need to get it to the point where the syrup is running.
Remove from heat and stir in milk and then lightly beat in the egg.
Tip this wet mixture into the dry ingredients and beat until well mixed.
Pour mixture into the two tins and bake for 60-70 minutes until a skewer can be inserted and removed and remain clean. If, during cooking, you are concerned that the top is getting too brown, then loosely cover with foil.
If you fancy making butter icing as an accompaniment then beat the butter at room temperature until light and fluffy and then beat in the icing sugar.

Cherry and Pecan Muffins

2011-06-13T21:01:00.001+01:00

Makes 10-12 muffins

Ingredients

250g plain flour
3 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
85g sugar (caster or granulated)
1 egg
240ml milk
90ml corn oil
110g chopped glacé cherries
60g chopped pecans (you can use walnuts if you want to)

Method

Put muffin cases in muffin tin
Preheat oven to 160°C if fan oven.
In a large bowl stir flour, salt, baking powder and sugar. You can sift the flour if you really want to (I don't think it makes much of a difference).
In a separate bowl beat egg with a fork. Stir in milk, oil and cherries.
Pour liquid ingredients into dry and stir until just combined. Add the chopped walnuts during the last few strokes.
Spoon into muffin cases and pop in the oven for 20 minutes. Our oven doesn't cook evenly so at 17 minutes I turn the muffin tin through 180 degrees. At 20 minutes if they look like they need a couple of extra minutes then leave the muffins in for a little longer.
These muffins freeze well and a 30 second blast of a frozen muffin in the microwave makes it the perfect accompaniment to a cup of coffee.

Windows scam

2011-06-01T22:55:00.001+01:00

I received a telephone call from a scam artist yesterday and I thought I'd share the experience because, although I figured out what was going on, I think it would be useful to let you know what to avoid.

The call is from 24seven PC Care who are (NOT) a Microsoft partner. It's an Indian accent you'll hear and the person who calls you is based in Manchester (NOT).

If you have caller id then the number may show as 0123456789 but when you ask your caller they'll explain that's because they're using VOIP, except they don't call it VOIP because they assume you're an idiot. I have no idea whether they used VOIP.

Normally with this type of call I string them along for a bit and then end the call. I did start by doing that but we had just recently bought some Windows software. Whilst I started as an extreme sceptic I did start to wonder if the call was valid.

My caller had an Indian accent, and because so many companies have call centres in India I wasn't surprised by the accent. I was surprised when he said he was based in Manchester, and gave me a Manchester telephone number 0161 408 4448. Clearly an Indian accent in Manchester isn't impossible but this individual was so difficult to understand I was amazed he'd passed any interview for a job in a call centre. And he said his name was Michael Davies. Again this isn't impossible for someone in Manchester with a heavy Indian accent, but it is unlikely.

As the call was just a conversation I decided to give the caller the benefit of the doubt to the point of switching on the PC and following some simple instructions. I knew that nothing I was doing was changing anything on my machine. I can't recall what I was looking at, it's in a convoluted menu area that you wouldn't normally access. The point of this exercise was to persuade me that my PC was infected by a virus.

Once I was wondering whether my machine really was infected I was told to go to the following web address: www.24sevenpccare.com. I didn't, and neither should you. At this point I said I was going to leave the call and check the credentials of the company and my caller.

The caller then became quite agitated and insisted he was trying to help me. He told me it was clear I didn't know anything about computers and my computer was dangerously infected. I told him he was rude and aggressive and that, if the call was legitimate he'd have no problem with me ending the call, checking credentials and calling back. And then I put the phone down.

And then I googled "24sevenpccare scam" and found a plethora of information. You can find it too, here.

Ryan's Daughter

2011-05-24T22:17:00.000+01:00

This isn't a blog about a film starring Robert Mitchum, it's about a different Ryan and his daughter Liberty, son Zachary and wife Stacey. It's about the Welsh dragon Ryan Giggs and the very messy super injunction.

I've been thinking about why Giggs has continued to try and prevent this story entering the public domain and it might be because of his wife.

Imagine what's been going on in the Giggs household.

Ryan knows he's been found out and he knows he needs to tell his wife before she finds out from somewhere else. She can't bear the thought of the loss of face.

She wants to try and preserve the marriage but she can't bear the thought of the tabloid press and gossip magazines splashing this salacious tittle tattle all over their front pages, especially as she and Ryan are trying to patch things up.

Or maybe I'm wrong and Giggs has been so stupid that he's honestly felt that a super injunction can prevent his wife from finding out about his indiscretion.

Charity

2011-05-21T14:07:00.001+01:00

My donations to charity fall into several categories: large one-off donations, regular direct debit, sponsorship and small adhoc donations. I like to choose the charities that will receive my money in my own time and I don't like the so-called chuggers who approach you in the street, tell you about a terrible injustice somewhere in the world, and then ask you to sign up for a direct debit benefiting the charity for whom they work.

I understand why charities want people to sign up for direct debits. Once you've signed up it's a pretty much guaranteed regular income with no more effort or resource on the part of the charity fundraising department.

But chugging is intrusive and it has a very negative approach that requires that the victim feel guilty. Giving to charity should be something that is done willingly without coercion and it should be something that makes the giver feel good. Channel 4's Secret Millionaire programme highlights very well how giving is good for the soul.

Earlier this year I made a large donation to UNICEF. I'm sure the money will be put to good use.

Today I received a call from UNICEF. They were grovelingly grateful for my donation which made me feel uncomfortable. The tone of the conversation was deferential which I don't like. I prefer conversations that are on an even footing and have balance.

The call then turned into a telephone chugging that involved asking me to sign up for a direct debit after telling me about the paucity of childhood vaccinations in third world countries.

I've signed up to the telephone preference service at home because I don't like uninvited intrusion into my home life. I despise the High Street chugging activity and was very unimpressed that UNICEF choose to spend money on telephone chugging existing supporters in their own homes.

So UNICEF, if you're listening, please spend time on researching and profiling your supporters because if you carry on approaching supporters inappropriately you will tarnish your brand image which is likely to lead to less support in the future.

Speed Awareness Course - Part 2

2011-05-16T22:40:00.001+01:00

The course was scheduled for four and a half hours in Aylesford Rugby Club.

Gratuitous shot of rugby players from Aylesford Rugby Club:

Anyway it's not quite the venue I imagined for a Speed Awareness Course but the venue was as unexpected as the offender list. Speeders, it seems, are young, old, very old, male, female, white collar, blue collar, unemployed.

So what does a Speed Awareness Course cover? Well I think that depends on the course provider and the area that the course is in. So anything you read here applies to rugby clubs in Kent.

The first thing we did was write our names on the tent cards on our table. The joker on our table wrote his name as "Speedy". How we laughed.

The second thing we did was a bit of an ice breaker. In groups we had to identify some road signs. This served to highlight the general ignorance in the room. I didn't find my own ignorance too surprising as the Highway Code is a book I haven't opened for a lot of years, and actually I knew more than the rest of my group, but still not enough.

There then followed a similar exercise in which we had to identify the speed limit for different roads without the aid of visual stimulus. I got into a bit of an argument then because the instructor told us that Transit vans weren't one tonne vans. I said they were available as one and two tonne vans. I almost started to go into wheelbase and drive options but realised I was there to learn. (She was wrong, I think).

The rest of the course is a bit of a blur. I sort of started to lose interest when they stopped testing us. We were forced to watch one of those hideous adverts promoting the message "Think! Kill your speed." There then followed extended over-analysis of the video and some pseudo role play in which we assumed the role of the characters in the film. I mean I love am dram and did Drama 'O' Level but in a room of adults that don't want to know one another and who only have "being naughty" in common, it's just inappropriate.

I think we were treated to some road casualty stats that I already knew and then we did some defensive driver classroom training which isn't a patch on defensive driver training in a car.

Did I mention I walked out with a new copy of the Highway Code and a pen. I didn't steal these, they were being given away. I'm not a criminal.

Speed Awareness Course - Part 1

2011-05-15T20:23:00.002+01:00

I took part in the new Ford Focus launch in February. It took place "oop north" near Rotherham, based at the Magna Science Centre.

The day was structured with classroom sessions around a drive section. The drive followed a predefined route that was followed with a clever thingy that used GPS and the car's speakers to tell me about the features of the vehicle and give me directions.

Before the drive we were paired up for the drive and received a safety briefing that reminded us not to speed. We were told there were speed cameras en route and the police had been advised of our route specifically.

I wasn't worried as I had no intention of speeding.

My drive partner drove the first half of the route and after an extended halfway break I took over the driving. At this point I was having a conversation, driving an unfamiliar car, listening to a description of vehicle features and also driving instructions and directions. I was of course also paying attention to speed limits.

It was a good day and the new Ford Focus is very impressive. I think it might be my next car, in Candy Red.

Anyway, two weeks later I received details of a speeding ticket. I knew it couldn't possibly be mine so I queried the time of the ticket. It tallied with the time I was driving. I asked whether there was a photo and was told that there was but it wouldn't show who was driving.

I even went as far as trying to re-drive the route using Google Streetview to spot speed limit signs because I was so convinced I hadn't exceeded the speed limit. As didn't know the area well this last desperate attempt proved to be futile as it was too difficult to recall the route and "drive" it online.

Either South Yorkshire Police had screwed up, or I had. Respect for authority and an acknowledgment of my fallibility meant I completed the paperwork that acknowledged my guilt. Guilty of travelling at 36mph in a 30mph limit (except I still think it must have been a 40mph limit).

I was offered the option of a Speed Awareness Course at a cost of £80 and no points or I could take the three points and pay a £60 fine. I opted for the former.

After explaining that a course in Rotherham wasn't that convenient I was offered a course in Kent. The admin involved in booking the course was quite painful and frustrating. Despite completing a form with my details and returning it I received a confirmation addressed to the wrong person and with the wrong offence date. The name was a small mistake, but if you're doing this because of an offence it's important the details are correct. The offence date error wasn't an error at all, simply the only way the Kent system could process my information. I was told "not to worry" but I wasn't very comfortable. In the future would someone understand that the Kent system doesn't work properly and doesn't always have a record of the correct offence date? After several telephone calls with perhaps the most patronising man ever, I gave up and paid my money.

A few months later I went on the course...

Hannah's sandals

2011-05-13T21:02:00.001+01:00

This is perhaps not my most inspiring blog title. Perhaps I could do better, but maybe there's a reason I'm not giving it 100%. Maybe the subject has drained my imagination.

I bought Hannah some sandals on May 1st and yesterday, May 11th, they broke. Hannah had to walk from the breakfast club (not at the school) to school wearing sandals that she couldn't do up because the buckle prong had fallen off. Once at school she then had the foresight to change into her P.E. trainers and spent the rest of the school day wearing them.

Today Hannah was back wearing black shoes to school and this afternoon I traipsed into town with offending sandals.

There was an assistant at the checkout. Initially she seemed preoccupied because she didn't acknowledge me. I took the sandals and receipt out of the bag and placed them on the counter.

Eventually I was greeted with eye contact. There wasn't an "Hello" or "Can I help you?" so I started the conversation with "Hi. I bought these less than a fortnight ago and they've broken." and was met with a blunt "Well whaddya wanna do?" I said I'd like a replacement pair as Hannah didn't have any sandals to wear to school. She said nothing, peered at the receipt and went off to the stock room.

When she returned I discovered I'd have to order a replacement pair. As she went through the re-ordering process there was a lot of mumbling and grumbling about how slow and unresponsive the system was. This noise wasn't directed at me but at a colleague, but I couldn't help hear every whinging detail.

She paused to ask me for my address and looked closer at my receipt for some details before giving me the receipt for the order.

I asked for my receipt back and she said "Are you sure? It's only got shoe cream left on it." "Actually" I said "there's another pair of sandals on there." "Oh, really. I'm sorry, I didn't see that. Oh well if you want to take that back I'll need your details on here" and she pushed a form under my nose that needed name and address details that I'd already provided for the order. I pointed out that she already had my details and she said "Well you can always decline but...." and frankly I stopped listening, filled in my details, thanked her and left.

I'm not an expert in retail but the minimum I would expect in these circumstances, if I ran Clarks, would be:

Customers receive a friendly greeting at the beginning of a conversation.
If nobody is available to help someone looking for assistance then the customer should be told that someone will be available soon.
If goods are faulty then the first thing that should happen is that the customer should receive an apology. Then the customer should be offered a replacement or, if this is declined, a refund.
If an order is necessary to provide a replacement then a customer should only have to provide details once.
As the customer is leaving they should be thanked for taking the time to bring the item into the shop.

I forgive Clarks for the faulty footwear but I don't forgive sloppy, unwelcoming, unfriendly, lazy customer service.

Come on Clarks. You can do better.

Local Councils and consultations

2011-05-07T12:26:00.001+01:00

The Council are conducting a "Neighbourhood Consultation" about the Brentwood Local Plan. I knew about this because there was a leaflet that came through the door, probably as a local paper insert.

The leaflet didn't look like something from the council, in fact it looked more like it was promoting a party supply shop.

The "party supply shop" leaflet advised that the Council would be holding public consultations in a variety of places, one of which would be Brentwood High Street, on May 7th.

I turned up today expecting to find enthusiastic Council employees eager to solicit the public's views on Planning policy and potential future development. What I found was somewhat different.

A gazebo over a table was surrounded by "nice young people" who were both nice and young but not directly employed by the Council. The Consultation appears to have been outsourced to a group who have run consultations elsewhere and so are very versed in planning policy and how to gather opinion. What they don't know is Brentwood or anything about the particular planning concerns that are relevant to this area.

The method for obtaining opinion varied depending upon the member of the public with whom they were dealing. People who knew about the process and the current planning policy were invited to write their thoughts on small post-it notes and this was the category into which I seemed to fall. Other people who just happened to be passing were encouraged to talk with their views being captured by the nice young folk who were writing on small post-it notes. None of the ideas on the post-it notes were being attributed to any particular individual. There was no data capture for future follow up.

I decided this was rather inefficient and asked for an e-mail address so I could send in my extensive thoughts on the matter. The woman I was talking to looked startled by my request and told me she thought she'd seen one somewhere. There were some leaflets on display and I suggested that an e-mail address might be there and she "didn't think so." I looked and there was an e-mail address for further information but it was email@brentwood.gov.uk which is an e-mail address for all manner of general enquiries and perhaps not the best for a targeted consultation. She then mentioned that there were some questionnaires "somewhere" and, sure enough, after a rummage around under the table she found a questionnaire with all of the information I needed.

If you do want to participate in this consultation, and you do want to have your details attributed to your input, then visit www.brentwood.gov.uk/your neighbourhood. For some strange reason this link is configured such that it won't work without the www. And you can also e-mail planning.policy@brentwood.gov.uk for more copies of questionnaires or to find out more about the consultation. There's also a telephone number 01277 312610.

You have until July 1st and by completing a questionnaire you could win £50 of shopping vouchers (there are no terms and conditions that explain which shops so it could be for multiple copies of the Mayor's 2011 calendar, who knows.) There is also no privacy statement on the form despite the collection of personal data, but perhaps I'm expecting too much of our highly paid Council employees and their even more highly paid consultants. So you need to be prepared for your details to be sold to the highest bidder....probably double glazing and kitchen salespeople.

I encourage you to get involved and not just via the yellow sticky note process because it's your town and you deserve a say*.

*obviously only your town if you live in Brentwood.

What to do?

2011-05-06T20:28:00.001+01:00

At the age of 15 I had a bit of advice from my mum. She told me that I should start applying moisturiser daily to avoid wrinkles. I ignored that advice until some point in my twenties and am now a wrinkled old hag. Moral of the story is listen to your mum because she knows what's best for you.

Hannah has fair skin and, just like her mother, that skin is dry. Hannah has sore patches on her face where the skin is super dry. Whenever I go near Hannah with a cream to try and make her better she cowers, flinches and resists.

It's like a phobia.

I've tried persuasion and that hasn't worked. I've tried all sorts of different creams and that hasn't worked. When I say hasn't worked, the cream has been fine it's just that I still get the objections. I've resorted to just telling her what's going to happen and ignoring her remonstrations.

I don't like doing this. I'd much rather have a willing patient. Does anyone have advice?

WLTM

2011-05-04T21:49:00.001+01:00

Today at work I was asked to write a personal ad. I've not done that before and I cheated. On this blog and elsewhere on t'internet I use this to describe myself "Average on the surface, just don't scratch the surface." So I used this and appended it with my Twitter account @a4ann. I thought it might have some stand and might encourage curiosity. The Twitter acocunt also provided a way for people to find out more about me and served as a response mechanism.

It was interesting to hear other people's attempts and to see how different mine was.

I wondered whether there were some good examples on the net, and of course there are. I thought I'd share a few.

Imp and angel. Disembodied head in jar, 24, seeks pixie goddess to fiddle with while Rome burns. You bring marshmallows. No. I make joke. You like laugh? I like comebacks and confessions. Send photo of someone else.

Three toed mango peeler searching for wicked lesbian infielder. Like screaming and marking territory with urine? Let's make banana enchiladas together in my bathtub. You bring the salsa.

I like eating mayonnaise and peanut butter sandwiches in the rain, watching Barney Miller reruns, peeing on birds in the park and licking strangers on the subway; you eat beets raw, have climbed Kilimanjaro, and sweat freely and often. Must wear size five shoes.

Small lumpy squid monkey seeks healthy woman with no identifying scars, any age. Must have all limbs. Recommend appreciation of high-pitched, screeching noises. Must like being bored and lonely. Must not touch the squids, EVER. No tongue.

I am spitting kitty. Ftt Fttttttt. I am angry bear. Grrrrr. I am large watermelon seed stuck in your nose. Zermmmmmmmmmm. I am small biting spider in your underwear. Yub yub yub. No mimes.

Bitter, unsuccessful middle aged loser wallowing in an unending sea of inert, drooping loneliness looking for 24 year old needy leech-like hanger-on to abuse with dull stories, tired sex and Herb Alpert albums. Baby, you are my Tijuana Taxi.

Me -- trying to sleep on the bus station bench, pleading with you to give me a cigarette; you -- choking on my odor, tripping over your purse trying to get away; at the last moment, our eyes meeting. Yours were blue. Can I have a dollar?

There is a little place in the jumbled sock drawer of my heart where you match up all the pairs, throw out the ones with holes in them, and buy me some of those neat dressy ones with the weird black and red geometrical designs on them.

Mmmm, Pez! Rabid Wonder Woman fan looking for someone in satin tights, fighting for our rights and the old red, white 'n blue. You look like Linda Carter? Big plus. Know all words to theme song? Marry me.

Angry, simple-minded, balding, partially blind ex-circus flipper boy with a passion for covering lovers in sour cream and gravy seeks exotic, heavily tattooed piercing fanatic, preferably hairy and stinky, either sex, for whippings, bizarre sex and fashion consulting. No freaks.

Morbidly overweight, seriously competitive computer gamer with creative genius wrt online persona... seeking svelte, kinky sex vixen for impossible fantasy roleplay. Some willingness to assist with basic bodily functions required.

Gentle, middle-aged teddy bear with unfortunate flatulence challenge seeking olfaction-impaired ourdoors girl for good times and possible matrimony. Must enjoy open-air activities and prefer spending time alone as a couple.

Hey you! Yes you, Snootch Mama! Onto the bike, Beeyotch, grab hold (you know where!) and lets rumble on to the log slide of love to ride the ol skin boat to tuna town. Yah, Baby, you've got male!

Ho hum.

You bitch!

2011-05-03T22:41:00.001+01:00

Sometimes I post stuff on Twitter and Facebook and it's not true. For example I give the impression I drink way more than I actually do. I'm no saint but I'm not the sinner that I portray.

I can hear you saying "She needs to admit she has a problem. She's in denial." Well maybe, but only I know the truth. Let me give you an insight into a little conversation I had this evening. I'm paraphrasing because I didn't write this down as it happened.

As I'm opening a bar of chocolate I say to Dave "I might just have a glass of wine."

"You bitch! I was trying to be good."

"Well you don't have to have a glass."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen."

"Well I'd be just as happy with a cup of tea."

"Well I'm not opening a bottle, but if you did.... I'm weak."

"I know."

I didn't. I didn't need a drink, I just thought a drink might be nice or useful. I didn't need it and was just as happy with my cup of tea.

But what the conversation did do was affect Dave. He now wanted a glass/bottle of wine and he didn't want to do the work that he'd persuaded himself he would do tonight.

A website visualised

2011-04-30T19:39:00.001+01:00

I found this website. And it produced this image.

I think it's quite pretty. It's a visualisation of this blog. Try the link for yourself and try out other websites to see your own visualisations.

The Visa Way

2011-04-26T22:48:00.002+01:00

So today is the last day to apply for Olympic tickets.
We did it yesterday and we went a little bit crazy.
The whole applying process is quite simple, if expensive and actually completely outrageous. There are times when corporate sponsorship goes too far, and Visa's complete obliteration of all that is acceptable is, frankly, unacceptable.
To attend events at the Olympic Games you choose firstly the events and then the ticket price. This is not like choosing a ticket for the theatre because you are merely choosing how much you are willing to pay. The assumption is that the more one pays the better the seats supplied. At no point are applicants given sight of a seating plan or any kind of indication of how far away they will be from any sporting action. It's merely an assumption. A very expensive assumption in our case.
There is no guarantee that the tickets for which you have applied will actually be allocated. In our case, if they are not, that will be a financial bonus as well as a crushing disappointment.
In May your Visa card, and yes it must be a Visa card, will be debited for the amount of your successful application and you must ensure you have sufficient funds (or credit limit) to cover the amount for which you have applied. In our case that means we can't spend any money on our Visa card at all because our application absorbs our entire credit limit, bar about £150.
At the end of June you'll be told which tickets were allocated.
What? You mean I paid for something in May and won't know exactly what it is until the end of June?
Yep, that's the Visa way.
Now obviously you might find that your Equestrian clashes with your Rhythmic Gymnastics and you were successful with both ticket applications. You'd applied for both because you were hedging your bets (we've hedged a lot of bets). Clearly you want a refund on the Equestrian event because your true love is Rhythmic Gymnastics.
Getting a refund is perfectly possible but, only when applied for in 2012.
What? I can only get a refund in 2012, over six months after I paid for the damn things? That's outrageous!
No. That's the Visa way.
The most sickening and annoying thing about this whole thing isn't the anxious wait to find out whether you'll be trotting off to see the horses in Greenwich or young girls twirling ribbons. It's the fact that the whole "pay for stuff in May, find out what you've paid for in June and maybe get a refund next year" is not information that you'll find on the London2012.com website. No, to find this out you have to search Google. (If you are looking for advice then this is a good site: http://conversation.which.co.uk/money/budget-for-your-olympics-tickets/)
And that's the Visa way. God Bless Visa.
You know, I've previously not cared a jot about any credit card provider but now I do have a fully formed opinion of Visa as a brand. I wonder if it's the one they envisaged when they engaged in their Olympic sponsorship.

Our daily bread

2011-04-23T23:00:00.001+01:00

I bought a breadmaker last weekend.

Before last weekend I had thought I might benefit from one. I was also worried that I'd buy the wrong one, wouldn't be able to work it, wouldn't know where to store it etc.

So if you're experiencing the same dilemma then this is what I did and what I discovered.

I decided to buy the Panasonic SD-256. I could have bought the SD-257 but the only discernible differences between the two is about £50 in price and a raisin/nut/seed dispenser. I think the raisin dispenser feature would be a useful feature but only when using the timer facility. So far I have used the timer facility a lot. My plan is to live with the SD-256 for a while and then think about upgrading.

I bought it for a bargain £70 and, if you buy at the moment, you can go to the Panasonic website and download a form to complete and send off for a "free" bread recipe book (written by someone who uses a Panasonic breadmaker).

So now I have one, what do I think?

Well Dave didn't want me to buy one but that's because I have too much stuff in the kitchen already. He had a point. It's a bit too big for a kitchen cupboard which is just as well as I don't have any space in any kitchen cupboards anyway. (I hate my kitchen)

However, it sort of fits if you balance it on top of the the microwave. OK this is a rubbish storage solution but it gets used daily so storage is less of an issue and it just gets in the way.

And what have I used it for?

Well timer set baking is great for that freshly baked bread smell first thing in the morning. But very fresh bread is difficult to slice. I've been making a wholemeal and white mix with seeds and it is delicious. If I'd got the SD-257 model I might have used the dispenser to add the seeds. As it is I just bung the seeds in on top of the other ingredients and it works perfectly. There is an order in which the ingredients need to be added, mainly to separate the water, sugar and the yeast until the right moment, and the order does seem to be important.

Hannah has given up her usual order of cinnamon and raisin bagel in favour of fresh bread with honey.

I've also tried a few dough recipes and freestyled it a bit adding all sorts into the mix. The olives I sliced got a bit mashed in the mixing process. This may have been avoided by having the SD-257 or even figuring out how to select the raisin dough cycle which beeps when the stuff (raisins or olives or whatever) need adding. I've figured this out now but I got very annoyed during the figuring it out process.

There are some recipes that require lining the bread tin with baking parchment. This is simply ridiculous and I plan to use loaf tin and oven for those recipes, if I ever get there.

I did try panettone and the first time I forgot to put the kneading blade in first so tipped everything out, put the blade in and tipped everything back in again. Disaster. But when I tried again without screwing things up it was much better.

I can't see the point of using the bake only function. Use an oven and a cake/loaf tin!

I've also used the rapid bake function and that worked really well for a bread mix but I'm equally confident it would work with a normal loaf.

There will be a hole in the bottom of every loaf you make because the kneading blade doesn't have a way of disappearing after it's done the kneading.

So I'm just off to bed, but I need to pop some ingredients in the breadmaker and press go and I know the ingredients list off by heart: 200g white flour (Canadian is best, try Marriages), 200g wholemeal or granary flour, 3/4tsp dried yeast, 1tsp sugar, 1tsp salt (I use less), 15g butter (I do this by eye so it's 15g ish) and 290ml water and a big handful of mixed seeds.

Mu-u-um

2011-04-22T16:04:00.001+01:00

Conversation with Ethan during his monster attempt at the world record for number of trampoline bounces in a day.

"Mu-u-um, how many people live in New Zealand?"

"Erm, maybe four million." (This turns out to be reasonably accurate as guesses go.)

"So not as many as the United Kingdom?"

"No. Not as many as the United Kingdom."

"But more than Japan?"

"No. I think Japan has more people than New Zealand." (Got this right too. Amazing because Geography was never my thing and I'm useless at remembering facts.)

"But what about the tsunami?"

"What about the tsunami?"

"Did you know a tsunami can get up to 10 metres tall which is the same as our tape measure can measure?"

"What a coincidence...."

Data Protection Act II and subversion

2011-04-17T21:03:00.001+01:00

No, there isn't a DPAII that I'm aware of but this is my second of two posts on the subject.

You know when you return something to a shop and they refund your credit card and they ask you for your name, address and sometimes phone number....

When have you been told what the company is doing with that information?

When have you been asked about marketing permissions associated with those details?

Have you ever questioned the request for your personal data or have you just handed it over for fear of jeopardising your chance of successfully getting your money back?

You mug!

Me too.

Why do they need that information?

What do they use it for?

Is it a subversive way to collect information for the marketing database?

Data Protection Act and Currys

2011-04-16T21:05:00.001+01:00

I brought a breadmaker today. My bread is a bit hit or miss so I found one I wanted and reserved it at a local Currys for in store pick up. During the reservation process I gave away my name, address, telephone number, email address and bra size but was given the option of opting into or out of marketing communications from Currys and partner companies.

In store, at the checkout, I was asked for the same personal details but I could see that the checkout assistant couldn't be bothered with asking me all of the details. Whilst she didn't catch my telephone number and email address, she did have my name and address. And importantly while she was skipping over the detail she also skipped over the tick box that was there to capture people who didn't want to receive marketing information. She just didn't ask me. She assumed I wanted junk mail, or perhaps she was poorly training and didn't know what the "No Marketing" box meant.

I explained that she had missed some information and she cancelled the transaction and started again, this time ticking the right box.

I took the breadmaker out to the car, went back in and told a manager that his staff needed more training and that, currently, his staff were breaching the Data Protection Act. I wasn't told why my data was being collected and what it would be used for and I wasn't given the option of saying no to marketing information.

Mummy loves Ethan more than Ethan loves Mummy

2011-04-16T20:10:00.002+01:00

Ethan and I have this thing. I'll say I love him and he'll say "Not as much as I love you." and then I'll reply with "No. I love you more." And so it goes on ad infinitum.

Anyway Ethan's latest retort was "No you don't. I checked it on Google." This of course is met by me saying that I checked Google and that he was wrong.

Tonight we both checked Google together and it was universally rubbish. The search term I used was, admittedly, quite ridiculous: "Does Mummy love Ethan more than Ethan loves Mummy?"

So this is a test of the power of SEO (Search Engine Optimisation) and the power of the blog for achieving a Google rank.

The other side of the fence

2011-04-06T22:22:00.001+01:00

You know I don't want the neighbours to be successful with their planning application. But maybe I'm just being a bit selfish. Let's look at things from their point of view, or what I imagine to be their point of view.

You moved into your house 13-14 years ago and within a couple of years you'd applied for planning permission to expand the house adding almost 50% of the volume of the existing house. For whatever reason you never went ahead with those plans but ever since you've been dissatisfied with your house. You don't like the kitchen and there's only one small bathroom and so you haven't really bothered with maintaining the house that much. In the back of your mind you know your house will be changing and all of those little things will get fixed then.

And then in 2005 a developer put an idea in your head. Knock down the house and build flats. Make lots of money and move to a bigger and better house, one that has a bigger kitchen and maybe a couple of bathrooms.

Your architect worked really closely with Brentwood Council Planning office to the point that you were almost promised the rubber stamp of approval. In fact the planning office did recommend approval but there was a problem. Something happened and you decided to withdraw the plans.

This put you in a difficult position. You feel you alienated your neighbours in the area with the planning application but the plans were never agreed by the council. You carried on living in the house you were never happy with and because the plans to move on were put on ice you made some improvements to the house. You did get a new kitchen and you did do some of those little maintenance jobs.

And then the development opportunity became feasible once more and you knew that last time the approval was as good as in the bag, or so you thought. So you resubmitted the plans, making some minor changes to make the flats more saleable and by considering some of the planning department's recommendations from the previous application.

The trouble is that there are a few things that have changed since the prior application which make the original plans less feasible. Also your main neighbour was suffering from post natal depression the last time you applied and, frankly, she only managed a lame 35 letters in to the council. This time she has children at school and access to a much bigger network of people who are likely to be concerned by the development. Also in 2005 nobody was using Facebook, and now everybody is. Blogging and Facebook and Twitter are all widely used and available. Many more people use e-mail and have computers with internet access and smartphones. The world is far more connected. Opposing a planning application just got a whole lot easier. All people have to do is to complete a simple online form. The confidence you had when you submitted the application is waning. Local residents are more politicised and politically savvy and they are displaying their views in their windows.

You feel more and more isolated and your confidence about getting plans approved is starting to evaporate. You are considering your options and contemplating an alternative plan.

You honestly believe that your plans are the best alternative for the community because your plans are what you think fits with the look and style and scale of the neighbouring properties even though your neighbours might not agree. You believe that if your plans aren't approved then someone else will get much less attractive plans approved. Local residents should be grateful for the time and money that has gone into the consideration and thought behind the plans. And partly you are concerned that if the plans are rejected then you will have sunk an unrecoverable small fortune into the enterprise.

Dear Essex and Suffolk Water

2011-03-29T21:36:00.002+01:00

Dear Essex and Suffolk Water

I'm sorry that I didn't have the foresight to predict the outcome of our last encounter and understand fully that circumstances experienced were not covered in my previously published terms of engagement.

How were we both to know that your engineer would turn up with all of the requisite equipment to enable water pressure and flow measurement but find it impossible due to the inept installation of a water meter by other Essex and Suffolk Water some years prior?

I have now been waiting almost two weeks for the correct installation of a new water meter as recommended by your representative which, I was assured, would be accompanied by the requested pressure and flow tests.

I would request that you attend to this matter with some urgency because my patience is always thin but, on this particular issue, is somewhat threadbare.

Currently to draw hot water from any tap in the house we need to turn the tap on and then walk to the boiler cupboard, restart the boiler a few times until the hot water light is illuminated and then check that the bath/sink etc doesn't overflow. It is helpful, to ensure continued supply of hot water, to monitor the boiler to ensure it doesn't switch itself off. This is difficult when in the shower but if this has happened the issue does, rather quickly and uncomfortably, become apparent.

My calm demeanour about this state of affairs cannot last and I politely suggest that you get a move on.

Yours with increasing blood pressure

Ann Cardus (Mrs)

Lemon and poppy seed muffins

2011-03-25T21:45:00.001Z

I needed to make something for a school cake sale and I happened to have over ordered lemons last week so I dug out this recipe for lemon and poppy seed muffins.

Ingredients

250g plain flour
3 tsp baking powder
pinch salt
85g granulated sugar
1 egg
240ml milk
1 tsp grated lemon rind – preferably unwaxed
90ml corn oil
1/2 tsp lemon extract (can be substituted with more lemon rind)

Glaze

85g icing sugar
4 tsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp grated lemon rind

Method

Prepare muffin tins and preheat oven to 160°C for a fan oven.
Put flour, baking powder, salt and sugar in a large bowl and stir with a fork.
In a separate bowl beat egg and stir in milk, lemon rind, oil and lemon extract.
Pour wet ingredients into dry and stir until no flour is visible.
Spoon into muffin cases and bake for 20 mins or until lightly browned.
While muffins are in the oven make the glaze by combining glaze experience.
While muffins are hot, spoon over the glaze and leave to cool slightly.

These muffins freeze really well. Defrosting takes about three hours or a quick 30-40 second blast on top power in the microwave.

Hannah’s cupcakes

2011-03-20T16:06:00.001Z

Makes 12 but the mixture only needs to fill the bottom third of each muffin case and the mixture takes up so little space in a bowl that doubling the mixture would be easy.

Ingredients

125g butter (softened at room temperature)
125g sugar (caster or granulated)
2 eggs beaten
125g self raising flour
2tbsp milk

Icing

225g icing sugar
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp warm water
Food colouring as required
Decorations as required (sweets, chocolate buttons, hundreds and thousands, glace cherries)

Method

Preheat fan oven to 160°C (or 190°C for regular oven).
Put muffin cases into a muffin tin.
In a bowl beat sugar and butter until light and fluffy. If doing by hand this can be quite hard work.
Add eggs a little at a time beating well after each addition. (You could add food colouring at this point if you wanted a coloured sponge)
Add flour and fold in carefully.
Mix in milk and stir until mixture is smooth and drops off spoon easily.
Spoon mixture into cases and bake fro 15-20 mins until cakes are risen and golden brown.
While cakes are cooking make the icing by adding all of the icing ingredients to a bowl and mix until thick and smooth.
When cakes are cooked put them on a cooling rack.
Spoon icing onto cakes and spread to the edges with the back of a spoon. Add decorations as required.

Triple chocolate muffins

2011-03-20T15:43:00.001Z

The three chocolates come from the cocoa, the dark chocolate chips and the white chocolate chips. These are not my favourite muffins but I’m fussy when it comes to chocolate. They do seem to be popular with others though and when we did the cake sale for Tsunami relief these were one of the first cakes to sell out. People buy with their eyes as well as their wallets.

Makes 12 muffins (or 36 tiny mini muffins)

Ingredients

280g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 bicarb of soda
pinch salt
5 tbsp cocoa powder
140g granulated (or caster) sugar
1 egg
290ml milk
1tsp vanilla extract (not essence)
90ml corn oil
50g white choc chips
50g dark choc chips

Method

Put muffin cases in muffin tin and turn oven on to 160°C (for fan oven, for regular oven turn on to 190°C).
In a large bowl add flour, baking powder, bicarb, salt, cocoa powder, choc chips and sugar and stir with a fork.
In another bowl beat egg and stir in milk, corn oil, vanilla and oil.
Do not use any form of electric mixer! Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients and stir until no flour is visible. The batter will be lumpy but this is fine.
Spoon into tins. A heaped dessert spoon per muffin case is roughly the right amount.
Bake for 20-25 minutes or until tops spring back when pressed gently.
These muffins freeze very well and take about 2 hours to defrost or, if you’re in a hurry, then, from frozen, 30-40 seconds in a microwave on full power will make one ready to eat.

Lemon drizzle loaf

2011-03-20T15:21:00.001Z

I made this for the first time to sell during the half marathon and it was rather yummy. I made a double quantity and the Kenwood Chef was a bit overwhelmed with the volume of the mix so, if you’re planning to do the same, you have been warned.

You’ll need a loaf tin, roughly 23cm by 13cm and the deeper the better. Grease this and dust well with flour, shaking off any excess. You need to do this properly because when you’ve poured over the drizzle and allowed it to cool then it can be tricky to get out of the tin.

Ingredients

320g sugar (caster or granulated)
3 eggs
grated zest of 2 unwaxed lemons (or more if you want and be careful not to grate the bitter white pith)
250g plain flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
pinch salt
250ml milk (skimmed, semi-skimmed or full fat)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract (always buy extract not essence)
200g unsalted butter, melted

Lemon Syrup

freshly squeezed juice and zest of one lemon
50g sugar (caster or granulated)

Method

Preheat the oven to 170°C or 140°C for a fan oven (aren’t all ovens fan ovens these days?)
Put sugar, eggs and lemon zest in a bowl and beat until well mixed.
Add flour (sifted if you can be bothered), baking powder and salt to a separate bowl. And combine milk and vanilla in yet another bowl. (This recipe creates a fair bit of washing up.)
Add a third of the flour mixture to the sugar mixture and beat well. Add a third of the milk mixture and beat well.
Do the flour followed by milk thing again, twice.
Beat very well until everything is light and fluffy.
Add melted butter and beat until well incorporated.
Pour into prepared loaf tin and then bake for about 1 1/4 hours or until golden brown and it passes the skewer test (when a skewer is inserted into the centre of the cake and removed it remains clean.)

Lemon syrup

While the cake is baking put lemon zest, juice, sugar and 100ml water in a small saucepan. Bring to boil over a low heat. Raise heat and boil until it has reduced by half or until it is a thin syrup.
Put a cooling rack over a shallow baking tray and when the cake is cooked put it on the cooling rack. Use the skewer to make lots of holes in the top of the loaf and then carefully pour syrup over the loaf. The syrup is likely to spill into the baking tray and then you can tip what’s in the baking tray back over the loaf. This process can get very messy and sticky.
When loaf has cooled completely you can remove it from the tin. I put the tin in a freezer bag and then turn the loaf out. This also handily prepares the loaf for the freezer. This cake freezes very well. Take out of the freezer the night before you need it.

Targeted marketing

2011-03-16T20:26:00.001Z

Never, in the history of marketing, has a campaign been more aptly targeted. If you see the post preceding this one you’ll understand why.

I received an e-mail from Mumsnet which included information on their book club. I clicked on the link and noted it was sponsored by Radox.

This is taken from the campaign microsite landing page:

Why have we called the campaign 'Be Selfish'?

The idea for the Be Selfish campaign actually came from a group of Mums. Back in 2009 we asked our customers (who happened to be Mums), what they would like more of, and the answer was universally 'more time to ourselves please', not because they were unhappy being a Mum, or a wife, or a colleague but because like all of us Mums really benefit from spending time out focussing just on them, you know where you shut the door, and have a bit of peace and quiet, with no interruptions.

However, we also discovered that simply 'taking time out' was easier said than done. We commissioned a survey that found the average British women spent 21 years of her life looking after other people, and only three years on herself; statistics like these highlight the reasons why:

Running errands, looking after the house and shopping for the family took up 19 years, three months, and four days in the average women's lifetime.

Looking after children and the daily ferrying to after school clubs and swimming lessons accounted for a further one year, nine months and eight days.

11 hours were spent cooking for the family each week, equating to almost four years of a women's life spent up close and personal to her cooker.

Not that Mums were complaining BUT the effects of all this running about were not pretty with 63% of Mums reporting regular 'boiling over' outbursts (normally at the nearest family member).

Radox coined a phrase for these little eruptions - Vesuvius Syndrome - where everyday stresses built up and up to the point where it all boiled over. Radox wanted to help Mums beat this by facilitating 'time out', and so the 'Be Selfish' campaign was born.

Over the last two years we've teamed up with Kathy Lette to write a waterproof book that Mums could read in the bath, we built a Selfish Sanctuary that Mums could win for a bit of selfish pampering - and in October 2010 we teamed up with Mumsnet to sponsor the book club giving away free books to enjoy.

I’m off to pour myself a glass of wine, run a hot bath, and take a book, and not my phone, with me.

Meltdown

2011-03-16T18:09:00.001Z

No, not the Japanese nuclear reactors. Me.

It was the tiniest of things that sent me over the edge. A parents evening appointment that “couldn’t be moved” that clashed with a meeting at work. And everything came tumbling down.

Everything that I try and do, and fail to achieve, was suddenly brought into sharp focus and I just felt like a complete failure; always letting people down.

Does this happen to other people? Or should I be making an appointment with the doctor for those little green pills I took when I had post natal depression?

I’ve been crying on and off for about two hours now and it doesn’t matter how many reassuring hugs I get from Hannah, Ethan and Dave, I can’t stop.

I know you don’t really want to read about this but I’m wondering whether putting it into words might help me. It’s very self-indulgent but right now I think I could do with looking after myself.

Next time you see me I’ll be fine, I promise. Because bouncing back and keeping a lid on the madness is what it’s all about. But in the short term Dave has suggested we open a bottle of wine.

My terms of engagement

2011-03-15T21:27:00.001Z

Dear Essex and Suffolk Water

Thank you very much for promising to come out on Friday between 7:00am and 1:00pm to check the water flow and pressure for our property which British Gas advises is insufficient to operate our boiler.

I have accepted that should no fault be found you will charge us £48. You have promised to provide a full report explaining exactly what flow and pressure you are delivering.

I estimate that it will take no more than 10 minutes for you to asses the service that you provide to us which, at £48 per visit, is quite a lucrative business.

Clearly I am investing more time in this process than you. I shall be at home between 7:00am and 1:00pm, investing exactly 36 times more time. If fault is found, I think it is entirely reasonable that I charge you and whilst we’re being fair and reasonable, and even though my perception is that my time is more valuable than yours, I will agree to use the same hourly rate. So that’s 36 x £48, which will net me £1728.

Payment can only be accepted in cash. Cheques and credit and debit cards will not be accepted. Also, this cash must be paid immediately upon delivery of the information that you have not been delivering the service to which I am entitled.

Additionally, should your evaluation of the inbound water flow prove to be unsatisfactory, there will be some additional charges due:

There will be the “naked running around the house to restart the boiler to avoid a cold shower” charge which amounts to £500.
Additionally there’s the “running downstairs from the bathroom to ensure hot water by restarting the boiler” charge which is £750.
Lastly there’s the “dripping water across the kitchen floor mid washing up so that the washing up does clean things properly” charge at a reduced £350.

None of these charges guarantee that we will not pursue you for additional compensation at a later date.

We will offer a refreshments service during your visit. Freshly brewed tea and freshly ground coffee will be offered for a modest charge of £2.70 per beverage.

Finally I will be levying a Monopoly charge. As the only supplier available to me you will be subject to the Monopoly charge of £1000 per annum.

Payment for all charges must be made in cash on the day of the visit prior to departure.

I look forward to your visit on Friday.

Love and kisses,

Ann

How to challenge a planning application

2011-03-14T19:37:00.001Z

I’ve just had to go through this and I’ve learnt a few things. I can’t promise that any of these things will work for you but I think they have improved my chances of successfully challenging a planning application.

First things first, you need to look at the plans. Spend a long time doing this and make notes as you’re doing it. It’s OK to view the plans online but sometimes you really need to see them full size laid out on a big table, so make time to visit your local planning office.

When you do visit the local planning office make sure you ask to have the duty planning officer explain the plans to you. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Find a copy of your council’s adopted plan. This is effectively the Council rule book for assessing planning applications. Talk to the duty planning officer to help understand the adopted plan. It’s a little like trying to understand a legal document; a bit of a challenge if you’re not used to the terminology. Also ask the planning officer if there any other documents or policies that aren’t in the local plan but are official adopted policies. I’ve found it difficult to navigate easily to all of the relevant information so it’s useful having an expert guide you through. Town planners aren’t web designers and the usability of the site and the logical layout of information can be somewhat lacking.

When you’ve had time, in a quiet room, to evaluate the plans together with the local adopted plan, then go back for another chat with the duty planning officer with a list of questions. Ask them about the things that you think aren’t in line with the local planning guidelines and get some feedback from an expert.

Contact your local Councillor and, if they aren’t on the Planning Committee, maybe contact a Councillor who is on the Planning Committee.

Your Councillor can provide advice and guidance but if they are on the Planning Committee they must remain impartial and cannot express an opinion on the application. This doesn’t mean they can’t offer advice and you should take advantage of their expertise.

Talk to your neighbours about the application to see if there are other people that would support an objection. Help people by sharing everything that you’ve learned from the town planners and Councillors and give them the key points to include in an objection. Encourage them to get involved by viewing the plans and talking to planners and Councillors.

When you write your objection letter try to reference back to the policies in the local adopted plan. This makes it look like you’ve done your homework and that you know what you’re talking about. Copy as many Councillors as you can with your objection letter because if the decision goes to Committee then they only see objections if they ask for them.

An upside

2011-03-04T16:16:00.001Z

You know about the plans to demolish our neighbour’s house and build ten flats don’t you? That’s more of a rhetorical question than anything because I’ve not been bleating about anything else except that for the last few weeks.

It’s tough and stressful because there’s a lot to do and organise and there’s the added complexity of uncertainty. We don’t know what we’ll be living next to next year. We could be living next to a house with planning permission, a building site or a shiny new block of hideously out of proportion flats. But I don’t want you to think it’s all bad.

Since the plans have been made public I’ve had local residents knocking on my door wanting to help me with the campaign to prevent the flats achieving planning permission. I’ve knocked on lots of local residents doors and spoken to many kind and lovely people (and a few less kind and less lovely) and made connections with people with whom I’d normally just exchange a cheery hello (except the less kind and lovely ones because they’re not very good at eye contact.)

I’ve even taken to approaching complete strangers in the street and asking them if they knew about the plans and telling them how to find out more and how to object. I actually enjoy doing this. This may seem strange because it’s something that many people aren’t comfortable with.

It almost makes me feel that perhaps I was born to sell double glazing or preach the Lord’s word because I enjoy cold calling.

I blame my Mum, she started it. We used to go door to door collecting money for the RNLI and the Royal British Legion in the run up to Poppy Day or as it should be known Remembrance Sunday. It was a great way to catch up with people and discover the latest gossip.

An update

2011-03-02T22:17:00.001Z

We’ve decided to stay and fight the neighbour’s plans to replace their lovely old detached house with a block of cramped and tiny flats with barely any greenery and hardly any parking.

To this end I’ve done several things to move things forward:

I’ve met with several neighbours, most of whom insist on plying me with wine. I’ve not met anyone yet who isn’t bothered.
I’ve agreed to go petitioning tomorrow, if such a thing exists, so I might knock on your door. You have been warned.
I’ve spoken with a councillor and the editor of the Gazette.
I’ve set up a Facebook protest page which I’m actually very proud of as it’s my first one and it has had 36 “Likes” in less than a day.
I’ve arranged a gathering of interested parties at our house, next week to encourage opposition.
And thanks to some advice from Tony, I’ve contacted these guys: AHA Planning. AHA Planning have lots of experts in Town Planning who, for a modest sum (£36), will evaluate plans and construct a letter of objection. If they don’t believe you have a leg to stand on they will refund your money. Sounds like a win win to me.

I’ll let you know how we get on but in the meantime, why don’t you go to my Facebook protest page and “Like” it, and spread the word.

Oh, and the house that they want to knock down looks like this:

Parents eh!

2011-02-27T15:14:00.001Z

Hannah, aged eight and three quarters, had to research a city this week during half term. She chose Cairo and this is, almost, all her own work:

Cairo with Zombie

View more presentations from anncardus

Extra slide was produced by her dad while she was tucked up in bed. Parents eh!

100 Whimsical words

2011-02-23T21:53:00.001Z

Reiner sent me these today and I thought they were lovely and worth sharing.

The English language can be maddening to native speakers and learners alike, but is also delightfully rich, especially for those who seek to convey a lighthearted tone in their writing. Here are 100 words it’s difficult to employ without smiling. Though their meanings may be obscure, they each present a challenge — I mean an opportunity — for you to paint a vivid word picture. Imbue your musings with mirth by incorporating these terms:
absquatulate: to flee, abscond
abstemious: restrained in consumption of food and alcohol
balderdash: nonsense
ballyhoo: commotion, hype
bindle stiff: hobo
bodacious: remarkable, voluptuous
borborygmus: sound of intestinal gas
cahoots (in the expression “in cahoots with”): scheming
callipygian: possessing a shapely derriere
cantankerous: irritating, difficult
carbuncle: pustule
caterwaul: to wail or protest noisily
cattywampus: in disarray
cockamamie (also cockamamie): ridiculous
comeuppance: just desserts
concupiscent: possessed of erotic desire
copacetic (also copasetic, copesetic): satisfactory
curmudgeon: ill-tempered (and often old) person
debauchery: sensual gratification
doohickey: gadget or attachment
effluvium: unpleasant smell
factotum: all-around servant or attendant
farrago: confused mixture
festoon: to decorate; dangling decorative chains
finagle: to trick
fisticuffs: fighting with fists
flabbergasted: dumbfounded
flagitious: villainous
flibbertigibbet: flighty person
flummoxed: confused
foible: fault
folderol: nonsense
foofaraw: flash, frills
fusty: moldy, musty, old-fashioned
gallimaufry: mixture, jumble
gallivant: to jaunt or carouse
gobbledygook: nonsense, indecipherable writing
haberdasher: men’s clothier; provider of sundries
harridan: shrewish woman
higgledy-piggledy: in a disorganized or confused manner
high jinks (also hijinks): boisterous antics
hodgepodge: mixture, jumble
hokum: nonsense
hoodwink: to deceive
hoosegow: jail
hornswoggle: to dupe or hoax
hortatory: advisory
hullabaloo: uproar
ignoramus: dunce
imbroglio: confused predicament
jackanapes: impudent or mischievous person
jiggery-pokery: deceit
kerfuffle: disturbance
lackadaisical: bereft of energy or enthusiasm
loggerheads (in the expression “at loggerheads”): quarrelsome
lollygag: to meander, delay
loquacious: talkative
louche: disreputable
lugubrious: mournful, dismal
malarkey (also malarky): nonsense
maleficence: evil
mendacious: deceptive
oaf: clumsy or stupid person
obfuscate: confuse, obscure
obloquy: condemning or abusive language, or the state of being subject to such
obsequious: flattering
orotund: sonorous, or pompous
osculate: to kiss
paroxysm: convulsion or outburst
peccadillo: minor offense
periwinkle: light purplish blue; creeping plant; aquatic snail
perspicacious: astute
pettifogger: quibbler; disreputable lawyer
poltroon: cowardly, coward
prognosticate: to predict
pusillanimous: cowardly
raffish: vulgar
ragamuffin: dirty, disheveled person
rambunctious: unruly
resplendent: brilliantly glowing
ribaldry: crude or coarse behavior
rigmarole (also rigamarole): confused talk; complicated procedure
ruckus: disturbance
scalawag: scamp
scofflaw: lawbreaker
shenanigans: tricks or mischief
skedaddle: flee
skulduggery: devious behavior
spiffy: stylish
squelch: to suppress or silence; act of silencing; sucking sound
subterfuge: deception, or deceptive ploy
supercilious: haughty
swashbuckler: cocky adventurer; story about the same
sylph: lithe woman
tatterdemalion: raggedly dressed person; looking disreputable or decayed
termagant: shrewish woman
whirligig: whirling toy; merry-go-round; dizzying course of events
widdershins (also withershins): counterclockwise, contrary
willy-nilly: by force, haphazardly

In praise of

2011-02-22T21:33:00.001Z

I’m very quick to criticise. I don’t know why because I’m nowhere near perfect and mistakes are second nature to me. Apparently I have a talent for spotting things that are wrong or things that don’t fit a pattern. I haven’t decided this, someone has told me that I have this skill.

Anyway, enough about my skills or handicaps, the reason for starting in this way is that I can be slow to praise. Again, I don’t know why that is and actually I wish I wasn’t like that. This post seeks to single out an individual and company for recognition of a job well done.

On Sunday night I decided to clear down all the videos that I had on my 2008 Flip Mino. (I know I bought before HD. If you’re looking for a birthday present idea, I’ll have a Flip Ultra III HD thank you very much.)

I was uploading and sorting videos and making small movies with some of the content. It really is ultra easy with Flip although it’s not an overly flexible movie making tool as it doesn’t allow for sophisticated editing. I’d made a couple of movies and for the last one I wanted to add music.

The first faff I had was changing the mp4 file I had into mp3 which would be accepted by the Flip software. I did it, can’t remember how but it worked.

The only thing I needed to do next was click the Make Movie button. Movie burning is quite a slow process and after it had churned away for a while and was almost finished, an error message popped up. It was getting late but I wanted to finish the movie for Hannah to see the next day so I had another go, and hit the same error, and another go, and hit the same error. Each attempt took quite some time so after three tries and three errors I was a tad frustrated with the whole process.

I went onto the web and found the Flip website and found the online help. I can be a bit wary of those, especially if they’re like the one that BT uses. There’s nothing worse than 30 seconds in discovering you’re chatting online with a poorly programmed robot who can’t help at all. Well actually there is something worse and that’s chatting online for 30 minutes and then realising the very well spoken person you’ve been chatting to is a very well programmed robot. That’s sort of humiliating. Credit where credit is due, you know you’re talking to a machine on the BT site.

Well Freddie (30065E), on the Flip site was very well spoken and very patient, even coping very well when I inadvertently shouted with accidental caps lock and apologised. He also threw in a couple of typos which I thought could have been the brainchild of a very devious programmer. @stormcab on twitter suggested that I ask Freddie (30065E) about the meaning of life as that always throws the bots. I didn’t because if Freddie (30065E) was real I didn’t want to insult him by accusing him of being non human.

Freddie (30065E) took me through diagnosis of the problem and two time consuming software updates. He was polite, patient, modest and I think he was real.

So thank you Flip. If Freddie (30065E) was real then he is an asset to your organisation. If he was a programme then I would dearly like to know which company you use because damn it, they’re good!

Oh and the video, it’s here:

Decisions, decisions

2011-02-12T03:28:00.001Z

I can’t sleep. You see we’ve decided to do something awful and the consequences are keeping me awake at night.

Our neighbours have submitted plans to demolish their house and build ten flats and the plans are very cleverly done so as to address any likely objections head on.

They did this six years ago and I fought it. Luckily for us they pulled the plans and we have managed to have six more years of living in our perfect house.

Now though, we find ourselves in the same boat as we were six years ago. Actually the boat is a little different: I no longer have post natal depression and gave up the Prozac a long time ago; the house, whilst still having kerb appeal, has now got some major maintenance issues; and, up until this week, we had been considering significantly extending the property.

So what would you do in our shoes. To help you with this question let me tell you a bit more.

When we were searching for a house over 11 years ago this house was out of our price range. But we looked at it longingly in the estate agent’s window.

Eventually the price fell and, even though it was at the very top of our budget, we looked around the house. We had a survey done which said we needed a new roof (there were saucepans catching water in the loft), it needed re-wiring and it needed a damp proof course as well as woodworm treatment.

We weren’t put off. We negotiated on the price and lived with the in-laws while the building work was done.

We installed a new central heating system to replace the skirting board radiator system, changed the arch between the two main reception rooms, fixed the burglar alarm, boarded the loft, built new loft hatches, and moved in.

We lived with a sheet as a temporary curtain at the living room window which lasted for about three years. Friends say it was there for longer.

We applied for planning permission to build a downstairs shower room and had that work done as well as making structural changes in the kitchen.

Then we had children and lived happily in our “stay forever” house. We installed a new bathroom upstairs by coming up with a clever solution for a room that had either a window or door at every corner. We constructed a massive climbing frame that would last for years and erected a playhouse we called “Chuckle cottage”. Dave built a deck and we even did some gardening (OK not much).

And this is our stay forever house.

It’s Victorian, just, having been built in 1901 and we have the original deeds showing the house with one neighbour (the house due for demolition) and surrounding fields.

It has oodles of character. It has a round window and a nook halfway up the stairs (just big enough for a computer at a desk). It has high ceilings; original coving, skirting, banisters and spindles; an original fireplace; a weird vertical loft door to access the second loft space; and a magnolia tree in the front garden which, for one week of the year, has the most beautiful blossom.

So what would you do?

The day I tried being assertive

2011-02-07T22:12:00.001Z

At the weekend I received some direct mail. I opened it. I read it. It worked.

There was an offer in the mail which was for this:

And the price was £101.

I did some surfing. The make was Coby, it was twin player i.e. played different discs on the separate screens and had wireless headphones. The cheapest price I could find quickly was Amazon at £204. This was a good deal.

I got got in the car and drove to the shop. When I got there there was a problem. An assistant explained there was a mistake. The revised offer was on display. The wireless headphones weren’t part of the offer and they were substituted with small ear bud style headphones instead (not wireless). The image above had been Photoshopped for the shop display to remove the headphones.

But then I looked at the product on display and looked at the picture, and the product on display could only play one DVD across both screens. I pointed that out to the assistant and he explained he could ask a manager to come over and talk to me. I said “Will that help?” and he said “Probably not.” I asked anyway.

The manager came over and I explained that the product for sale wasn’t the one that had been promoted in the direct mail but was, instead, this:

I explained that I was annoyed that I had driven to the shop for a misleading promotion and that, once in the store, the promotion was still incorrect. He explained that the supplier had sent the wrong images over but he hadn’t realised there was still a discrepancy after the initial photo editing. And then I said

“What I want you to do is to phone your supplier. I want you to explain that you’ve had disgruntled customers in the shop. I want you to tell your supplier that for one particular customer, who was really annoyed, that you want them to receive the product in the original offer, for the original offer price. And then I want you to phone me. I’m going to write my name and number down for you, and you’re going to phone me.”

He said he would. And then I said

“So you’re going to make that call, and let me know how you got on.” and I offered my hand for a handshake whilst looking him in the eye.

And he confirmed he would.

We’ll see. I made one crucial mistake. Did you spot it?

An experiment

2011-02-05T21:20:00.001Z

If you want to know who’s deleted you on Facebook, just head on over to “People you may know.”

There, amongst the thousands of faces, will be the people who have decided that you’re not their cup of tea.

It’s happened to me, and I’m not surprised. I’m vocal and opinionated and if my vocal opinion doesn’t match yours, on a regular basis, then I imagine you’ll decide distance is preferable.

I have an inkling that some of the deleters have just been irritated by my lack of involvement in their Facebook statuses. It’s a sort of “am I not good enough” arrogance.

I’ve never deleted/defriended anyone. I might have restricted access to my content but think I’ve only done that to two people. I’ve also turned down the volume on a few people because (like myself) they were overly enthusiastic about updating their status. I’ve also blocked applications that cluttered my news feed.

So I’m experimenting, and severing the link between Twitter and Facebook. I’m turning my Facebook volume down, as an experiment, to see whether I like it better that way.

Some children do ‘av ‘em

2011-02-03T21:19:00.001Z

I was listening to some mums today chatting about how unhappy they were with school. There were two topics I overheard: allergy policy and the teaching of evolution. These were both subjects that had caused one of the mums to complain to school staff.

Allergy Policy

The school in question has at least one child that suffers from a peanut allergy and has asked that parents who are providing their children with a packed lunch, please exclude peanuts from the food that is brought into school.

The Mums’ view: That’s disgusting. Why can’t the child with the allergy eat somewhere different of something. It’s not the same these days that schools have to be “inclusive.” What would they say if my child was allergic to milk? Would they ban everyone from drinking milk?

My view: Any nut allergy can be serious, even fatal. A child doesn’t necessarily have to eat a nut to suffer the allergic reaction. The school attended by my children has banned all nuts, not just peanuts, because of staff and pupil allergies. I think this is a sensible precaution. It’s sometimes a difficult rule to remember, but I do my best to comply. To suffer from a milk allergy reaction I think you normally have to drink milk and I think, but don’t know, that the reaction is less likely to be serious.

The teaching of evolution

The school in question has been teaching primary school children the subject of evolution, as Darwin defined it.

The Mums’ view: That’s disgusting. Telling the children we all came from fish and seaweed and stuff isn’t right, is it? I mean is is a Christian school after all.

My view: I would have though that the subject of evolution might be a challenging one for Primary School children, but perhaps it isn’t. Hannah and Ethan understand the basic concepts as explained by us, and maybe the school, and we’ve reinforced that with a Tree of Life poster (BBC) that shows evolution pictorially that hangs in Hannah’s room. I admire the school for teaching science in a way that children can understand it.

What’s your view? I think I can guess.

Musical lunch

2011-02-02T20:39:00.001Z

Hannah goes to Orchestra club at school on Wednesday lunchtimes.
The club used to last for half an hour leaving Hannah free to enjoy a hot school dinner in the other 30 minutes of her lunch hour.
This term though things changed and it was decided that Orchestra club should last for the full lunch hour. Children were told they would need to bring a packed lunch which they could eat during the first ten minutes of the hour.
Hannah ate only a fraction of her packed lunch today; she's quite a slow eater. From a health perspective slow eating is good. Everyone should chew food a lot and take time over meals; it aids digestion and helps to control appetite and weight gain. Clearly though, when only ten minutes is available for lunch, speed is everything.
On seeing that Hannah didn't eat all of her lunch, the teacher running the Orchestra club told Hannah to ask me to give her less food in her lunch box. Or, if that wasn't an option, to ask the teacher of the first lesson after lunch to allow Hannah to eat while the register is being taken.
So, when an artificial limit on the time available for eating lunch means that Hannah can't finish her food, the solution is to reduce the quantity of food.
Is it just me, or is that a kind of twisted, weird logic that doesn't take into account the welfare of the child?

Spam, spam, spam and spam

2011-02-01T21:00:00.000Z

To those of you who don’t blog you may be interested to know why some people moderate their comments before allowing them to be visible.

It’s because mindless idiots get something (I have no idea what) from blog spamming. Here’s a selection of spam comments from my blog:

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Orange, carrot and raisin spiced muffins

2011-01-31T20:56:00.001Z

I made these today. Screwed up a bit because I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t put the topping on before cooking. Doh! Luckily I have made them properly before and I’ve also omitted the topping and they’re very tasty. Luckily, even when I dragged the muffins out with 3 minutes cooking time left and belatedly added the topping and bunged them back in oven, they were fine (according to Hannah and Ethan).

This recipe makes 12 muffins

Ingredients

280g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp soda bicarbonate
pinch of salt
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1 egg
85g granulated sugar (I use golden granulated)
finely grated rind of one large orange (easiest with a big juicy fresh orange)
juice of the orange you’ve already used topped up with orange juice to make a total of 180ml
110g finely grated carrot (about one biggish carrot and I used the big side of the grater tonight although I think I’ve done more finely grated in the past)
90ml corn oil
85g raisins

Topping (optional and these measurements are a rough guide because I don’t know what weight of butter produces two tablespoons)

3 tbsp soft brown sugar
2 tbsp melted butter

Method

I usually turn the oven on just before I combine the wet and the dry ingredients otherwise I find that the oven has got to temperature ages before I’m ready (I don’t like to be rushed). If you want to turn the oven then it’s 160°C for a fan oven.
Put muffin cases into your muffin tin(s).
In a large bowl sift together flour, baking powder, soda bicarb, salt and spices, or if you’re lazy like me just stir these ingredients together.
In a separate bowl combine the beaten egg (beaten with a fork is fine), sugar, orange rind, orange juice, carrot and oil.
Pour wet ingredients into the dry and stir, with a spoon. You do not need to use a mixer or food processor. In fact I’m convinced that using anything other than a spoon is a big mistake….so don’t get tempted. Just as you’ve almost mixed it so no flour is visible, add the raisins and stir them in (with the same spoon).
Spoon into muffin cases and if you are doing the topping thing, then combine topping ingredients and spoon on top of the uncooked muffins and then bung in the oven for 20 mins. If you’re not doing the topping bit then omit that and bung in the oven for 20 mins.
Leave in for an extra couple of minutes if they aren’t a lovely golden brown colour.
You can eat these straight away or you can freeze these very successfully. I’m taking this batch (minus one for Hannah and one for Ethan) into the office. If you want to bake ahead and freeze then you need to allow about three hours defrost time or you can take them out the night before and keep in the fridge overnight. If you want to take them out of the freezer when you fancy a snack, then a 30 second blast in the microwave from frozen gives you a lovely warm, tasty muffin to accompany a mug of tea or coffee.

Your call is important to us…

2011-01-27T21:35:00.001Z

I would hazard a guess that you have experienced the frustration of phoning a poorly managed call centre.

I’m pretty sure you will recognise at least one of these phrases:

“Your call is important to us”
“We are currently experiencing unusually high call volumes”
“Calls are answered in strict rotation”
“Your call will be answered as soon as an advisor is available”
“Dum dum de dum de dum dum de dum, de dum dum de dum de dum dum de dum..”
“Press star to hear the menu again”
“Sorry, we didn’t recognise that response, please try again”

I have an inkling that just raising this subject is probably raising your blood pressure, which is why I’ve come up with a genius new business idea.

A new company, for a flat fee per call, will make the call to resolve whatever needs resolving on your behalf.

Pissed off with Virgin Media? We’ll call the bastards for you and sort them out.
Had a ding dong with Sky? We’ll ring their bell until it ding-a-ling lings.
Screwed over by British Gas? We’ll make them so sorry it’ll hurt.
Is Santander driving you nuts? We’ll get them begging you for mercy.

“It’s your problem, but we’ll sort it.”

What do you think? Are you in?

Market research

2011-01-26T22:44:00.001Z

Santander have been conducting market research. I received a call yesterday from a woman working for a research agency.

She was very pleasant and I was happy to spend 15 minutes answering her questions. If a company wants feedback to understand the service that they are delivering with a view to improving, then I’m usually happy to help. Whether that was Santander’s intent or not I don’t know.

I did have a current and savings account with Santander but after a series of poor customer experiences I walked and moved my current account. Moving a current account was easy as I didn’t even need to step into a branch. The savings account proved more tricky.

When I went to close the account the cashier wanted me to talk to the manager. They kept me waiting for the manager who wasn’t even in the branch. They then told me they wanted me to talk to someone else and kept me waiting again. When I finally did get to talk to someone they just told me they wanted me to talk to the manager. We arranged a mutually convenient time and the manager promised to try and resolve the issues I had outlined. It took over a week and I received a letter apologising and promising that in the future they would try to provide improved customer satisfaction. The letter was accompanied by the offer of financial compensation for inconvenience I’d encountered.

I resolved to continue with the account closure. There had still been no evidence that anything had been done to resolve the issues I’d experienced which is actually what I’d requested. The financial compensation was insignificant and wasn’t what I’d asked for.

The market research call reminded me I needed to close the remaining account and I remembered to thank the market researcher for the reminder.

She finished by asking if I was happy for Santander to listen to a recording of our call. Absolutely!

She asked me whether I would be willing to be contacted to clarify any of the detail in the call. Of course!

She asked me whether I would reconsider Santander for my banking if Santander addressed the issues I raised. Unlikely!

They have had plenty of opportunity to fix the issues and they have failed consistently and spectacularly.

…and in my bag I put…

2011-01-25T23:05:00.001Z

I have a bag that lives under the stairs. It contains:

six photo frames containing pictures of my children
a lint remover
a nail file
a Lemsip sachet
a plant pot
a stress toy (from a Google event)
a pen

and this:

Silly isn’t it?

These are the things I packed up from my last desk almost a year ago. When I moved into my new job I was told my desk was only temporary and I would be moving desks soon. So I didn’t make myself comfortable, except of course for taking in some tea bags, a mug or two, drugs (Paracetamol and Ibuprofen) and USB fairy lights.

I think the bag might go into work on my first anniversary at the temporary desk. Unless of course I’ve moved desks by then.

One born

2011-01-24T23:31:00.001Z

I like the Channel 4 show One Born Every Minute. It's a bit like hypnosis. I remember things I'd completely forgotten about labour.

It also puts my own experiences into context. I see other people with the same anxieties, the same issues, the same reactions. It's reassuring to know my experiences were normal, as normal as any birth can be.

I also like it because it's wonderful to see babies being born. It's amazing to be allowed to share in such a private experience and to see the emotions people experience.

I invariably cry but that's a good thing.

And I invented a medical condition tonight. One of the mums was shaking terribly after the birth of her gorgeous daughter and it reminded me that I had postnatal shakes too. At the time I thought it was post traumatic stress or ( cue invented medical condition) impending early onset death.

I didn't die, clearly.

To endure or not

2011-01-23T22:18:00.001Z

Ethan has recently started singing with the church choir and today, for the first time, he sang during a service.

He's joined the choir because I saw they were recruiting and I asked Ethan whether he was interested, and he was.

So I dropped him off for pre-service practise and picked him up after the service.

The Director of Music said I should have joined everyone whilst someone else noted that they "didn't normally see me at the church."

I winced. You see I don't enjoy going to church and never have.

As a child I remember the village vicar detesting children. We were clearly an inconvenience.

And then of course the state educated me and gave me the tools to evaluate religions, and so I did. My conclusions made me uncomfortable in church situations.

I don't mind the singing, although I find hymns difficult with my limited range and "poor ear." It's all the other stuff I don't enjoy. I feel very hypocritical saying things I don't believe and, for that reason, I try and avoid such situations.

But my boy is in the choir. Should I endure discomfort and support him from the congregation or should I treat it like his gymnastics class and drop him off and pick him up and support by praising achievements?

I've clearly opted for the latter, but am I right?