Invasion of privacy

I had an inkling that my doc would refer me to see a specialist so I sorted out my healthcare arrangements.  Not very complicated just arranging to be covered in my own right rather than being a dependant on my husband’s policy.

Doc did refer me so I phoned PPP to get authority to make appt with specialist.

I went through the usual verification of name, date of birth, mother’s maiden name, height in centimetres when I was three, the number of times in the last month I’ve had sex, the number of lightbulbs in my house, the name of my first pet and my pornstar name etc.  And then the conversation turned to the reason for the call.

I was calling from work because all of my membership details were in a work e-mail that I’d only recently received and it hadn’t been followed up by anything in the post.

I was comfortable with explaining that I’d been to the doctor and I had a referral.  I was also comfortable with providing the specialist’s name and the hospital in which he works.  It was when I was asked to describe symptoms that I declined and we arranged that I’d call back when I had more privacy.

I don’t believe it’s the business of anyone at work to know about any medical condition.  I could launch into a diatribe about medical case management but that might have to wait until I’m forced to go through the process.

Summer fruit muffins

This one’s for Tim, after he used the banana and chocolate muffin recipe to make blueberry muffins, and it didn’t quite work.

• 280g plain flour
• 3 tsp baking powder
• Pinch of salt
• 110g sugar
• 1 egg
• 240ml milk
• 90ml corn oil
• 140g summer fruit (any berries, either alone or in combination: blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, redcurrants, blackcurrants, cherries etc.), fresh or frozen (don’t thaw frozen berries); larger berries should be coarsely chopped.

1. Pre-heat fan oven to 160 degrees
2. In a large bowl sift together flour, baking powder, salt.  Stir in sugar.
3. In another bowl, beat egg and stir in milk and oil.
4. Pour wet ingredients into dry.  Stir until just combined, folding in berries at the end using 2-3 gentle strokes to avoid crushing fruit.
5. Spoon mixture into muffin cases and then bake for 20 mins or when tops are lightly browned and spring back when pressed gently.  If frozen fruit was used then add 4-5 minutes to the cooking time.

Sweet

Ethan and Hannah were trying to find something that their dad would like for Father’s Day.

When their dad didn’t have many suggestions then he was presented with a variety of ideas like books, videos (bless Hannah for not thinking DVD), iPod, etc. 

And then Ethan said “What about a book about Grandad?” and Hannah explained.

“Ethan thought Mummy could write a book about Grandad to help you remember him.”

My dad died just over a year ago.  Ethan is such a sweet and caring little boy and his Grandad’s death has obviously affected him.

*Wobbly bottom lip.*

Local elections

We had four parties contesting the local elections and they all had very different ways of trying to get my vote.

Labour did nothing.

Conservatives but boards up everywhere around the town saying “Vote for change. Vote Conservative.”

Lib-Dems put their blurb through the letterbox and knocked on the door for a chat to discuss issues uppermost in my mind.

BNP bought advertising space on a hoarding near the town centre. This was mysteriously papered over “by accident” and then somehow got redone. Not sure I really know exactly what went on.

Who do you think got my vote?

I could blog about Euro elections but frankly there were about 15 candidates and I didn’t know who 80% of them were.

I cannot accept your refusal

To those who might be receiving refusal letters in such a tough labour market – you may want to adopt this approach.

I stumbled across this today.

Herbert A. Millington
Chair - Search Committee
412A Clarkson Hall, Whitson University
College Hill, MA 34109

Dear Professor Millington,
Thank you for your letter of March 16. After careful consideration, I
regret to inform you that I am unable to accept your refusal to offer me
an assistant professor position in your department.
This year I have been particularly fortunate in receiving an unusually
large number of rejection letters. With such a varied and promising field
of candidates, it is impossible for me to accept all refusals.
Despite Whitson's outstanding qualifications and previous experience in
rejecting applicants, I find that your rejection does not meet my needs at
this time. Therefore, I will assume the position of assistant professor
in your department this August. I look forward to seeing you then.
Best of luck in rejecting future applicants.
Sincerely,
Chris L. Jensen

Road rage

I took the children to a local country park yesterday for an organised treasure hunt.

As we left in the car a lorry was manouvering and blocking our exit.  We waited until he stopped and then I waited again.

The driver had stopped in such a way that the only way we could get around his vehicle was to drive on the wrong side of the road. 

Where this occurs and there’s great visibility of oncoming traffic this would be fine, but it was right near a junction.  Traffic on an A road could pull into the road I was on without either driver having visibility of the other.

The lorry driver indicated I should pull round his vehicle.  I didn’t because I was always taught to check myself before taking anyone else’s word for the safety of a situation.  In this case I couldn’t, so I got out of the car.

I didn’t meet with a particularly co-operative or polite response when I asked the driver if he could park the lorry elsewhere.  I explained why it was dangerous for him to park there and he explained that was why he had waved me around his vehicle.

All very well except his next move was to get out of his cab and walk over to a roadside cafe.  Any other park goers would experience the same problem.

I had no choice and risked driving around his vehicle.  I encountered two vehicles pulling off the fast A road.  Luckily a collision was avoided, but it was definitely not safe.

I was furious but didn’t know what to do.  So I seethed all the way home.

Out of the blue

I met Alice when I was first pregnant.  She and I went to the same ante natal classes.

I discovered that Alice sometimes struggled to get to or from the classes because she didn’t drive.  I offered to help by going to and from the classes via Alice’s house.

As the ante natal class due dates approached the group had started to meet socially.  As babies arrived the group was a mixture of bumps and babies.

Alice wasn’t as lucky as the rest of us.  She had a midwife visit just before her due date and the midwife couldn’t find a heartbeat.  Alice had to give birth to her dead baby.

That is such a tragic and terrible thing to happen to anyone and, in general the group didn’t know how to respond.  I was probably closest to Alice because of the car sharing but I didn’t know what to do either.

I imagined that the last person she would want to see was someone who was still pregnant with a healthy child.

I can’t remember exactly how I kept in touch but I did.  We did talk about her loss and how she was feeling.  I remember broaching the subject of meeting the other mums.  I was honest and said we had hesitated to invite her along because we didn’t want to get it wrong, but I made sure she knew that when, or if, she was ready to meet us she would be very welcome.

We did meet a few times but we didn’t have much in common.  We drifted and became people that send Christmas cards.  Until yesterday.

We hadn’t spoken for years, but yesterday she called, out of the blue.

Perhaps I should have asked why she called, but I didn’t, so we just started talking in a very stilted fashion through lack of familiarity.

She’s become a grandmother (her first child, a daughter, has started her family) but has also suffered terribly with cancer.  I got the feeling she just wanted to talk to someone, anyone.  So we talked.  I listened and shared.

Today, out of the blue, a bouquet of flowers arrived from Alice.  Whilst this is lovely and kind and sweet, I don’t understand it.

The trigger

I looked at our kitchen on Saturday morning and hated it.  There are a thousand things that irritate me about it but the one thing that hit me in the face on Saturday was just how grubby it looked.

It wasn’t the kind of grubby that a bit of cleaning could fix, although there was a bit of that (particularly cobwebs and dust).  It was mainly the paintwork which had just deteriorated over time.

Somehow damp has made its way into some plaster on one wall which gave it a crazed effect akin to a paint crackle effect.  Added to this there was a small gap between the coving and the wall.  Every time anyone walked around in the bathroom above the gap released plaster dust over the kitchen work surface.  This meant that no sooner had the kitchen surfaces been cleaned they would need cleaning again.  It also meant that food couldn’t be stored there.

Also, and this is something I’ve not seen in anyone else’s kitchen, whenever I’ve peeled vegetables the walls have been sprayed with the juice from the potato, carrot or whatever.  I haven’t noticed this when it happened but, over time, this has made the wall look grubby, and it’s impossible to clean.

And then, of course, we have had children since the kitchen was last painted and there are grubby finger marks everywhere.

Something needed to be done.

Unplanned exposure

On Sunday both children had been invited to a swimming pool party.

This was a party in a public swimming pool and my presence was required in the pool.

After lots of splashing around, the swimming part of the party was over and everyone headed towards the changing rooms to get changed.

I’d worn a dress that day, new but not expensive, and as I popped the dress back on I hit a problem: the zip broke.

The zip ran up the side of the dress from hip to underarm and it wasn’t broken just a little bit, it was broken completely.

I didn’t have a jacket or cardigan and I had just one safety pin.

In Who wants to be a Millionaire style, I phoned a friend.

Mel, still in her swimming costume, came and found me.  She may have laughed a bit, but she quickly sprang into action to help me.

We acquired two more safety pins which, although not a neat solution, served to cover most of my embarrassment.  When Mel had dressed we nipped out to her car where she leant me a lovely cardigan that complimented the dress perfectly.

We eventually caught up with the rest of the partygoers and I think I got away with it, just.

The dress is going back.  The question is refund, or replacement?

Brand strength

I had a doctor appointment this morning at 8:30.

I turned up at 8:25 and after using the patient self check-in via a mounted PC screen, I took a seat.

My doctor is wonderful and the surgery is very well run.  I don’t enjoy a visit to the doctor but because my doctor is so lovely and because the surgery is efficient, the process is not as awkward as it could be.

Whenever I’ve made appointments for myself or the children we’ve never had to wait more than five minutes past our appointment time.  How many people can say the same about their doctor?

At 8:40 I frowned.  8:30 is the first appointment of the day so I assumed that there must have been an emergency patient squeezed in ahead of me, especially as I had heard my doctor’s voice over the tannoy calling someone else’s name.

At 8:50 I started to think the surgery was squeezing in too many emergency patients and I became fidgety.

At 9:00 I wondered if I’d written down the wrong appointment time.  Maybe my appointment was 9:00.

At 9:10 I checked my diary and decided I couldn’t possibly have written down the wrong time.

At 9:15 I went to the reception and explained that I wasn’t used to waiting and I asked her to check my appointment time.

My appointment was 8:30.  It transpired that, for some reason, the patient check-in hadn’t worked.

My previous experience with the brand “My Doctor” was so strong that it took me 45 minutes to doubt the brand and, before doubting the brand, I doubted myself.

I think that’s amazing. 

Top 50 jokes

These are the top 50 jokes from the Edinburgh fringe as picked by the Indie.  I’m over six months late with this but some of these made me chuckle.

"I told the ambulance men the wrong blood type for my ex, so he knows what rejection feels like" – Pippa Evans

"The Olympics are for everyone, not just someone who happens to own a dancing horse" – Glenn Wool, on dressage

"I like Jesus, but he loves me, so it's awkward" – Tom Stade

"I love being touched sexually by an ecologist" – Jo Neary, in character as a dolphin

"Glasgow has its own version of Monopoly – just one big square that reads: Go To Jail" – Des Clarke

"A problem shared is attention gained" – Pippa Evans

"Never say to an autistic person, you do the maths" – Wilson Dixon

"I'm glad they invented emoticons, otherwise I wouldn't know what my dad was thinking" – Kerry Godliman

On having sex with men in their thirties: "Generally much better, but you've got to rub their legs afterwards for cramp" – Sarah Millican

"I love paying tax so much, the sight of a gritter lorry gives me an erection" – Jon Richardson

"No seriously, I am a feminist, just a lusty, ogling feminist. I'm a lesbian, in fact" – Rob Deering

"Looking at my face is like reading in the car. It's all right for 10 minutes, then you start to feel sick" – Andrew Lawrence, on his ginger appearance

"One-armed butlers, they can take it but they can't dish it out" – Tim Vine

"If it's gone abroad, it must be fraud" – Tom Wrigglesworth, on the mindset of the high-street banks

"Victoria Beckham? Does this tampon make me look fat?" – Joan Rivers, on celebrities

"What do you say to your adopted African child if you want them to eat up their dinner? 'There are people starving in Africa right now, like your parents'" – Tom Stade

"Politicians are like God. No one believes in them, they haven't done anything for ages, and they give jobs to their immediate family" – Andy Zaltzman

"Channel 4 just cuts out bits from 'heat' magazine and throws them on the floor" – Wendy Wason, on C4 scheduling

"I'm dating now, because I ran out of hooker money" – Rick Shapiro

"The Scots invented hypnosis, chloroform and the hypodermic syringe. Wouldn't it just be easier to talk to a woman?" – Stephen Brown

"Whenever I see a man with a beard, moustache and glasses, I think, 'There's a man who has taken every precaution to avoid people doodling on photographs of him" – Carey Marx

"I love making love on a bed of nails, but can I go on top?" – Ginger and Black

"The definition of bipolar? A sexually curious bear" – Marcus Birdman

"One of my friends had twins with IVF. Two old ladies that she knew came up to her, and one got the term wrong. In a very sweet voice, she said, 'Oh, would you look at those beautiful twins! Did you get those on the HIV?'" – Craig Hill

"Old people don't like swearing, because a lot of the words weren't invented in their day, so they feel left out" – Zoe Gardner

"The anti-aging advert that I would like to see is a baby covered in cream saying, 'Aah, I've used too much'" – Andrew Bird

"I don't hate the Germans, I just miss my grandparents" – Ian Stone

"'What's a couple?' I asked my mum. She said, 'Two or three'. Which probably explains why her marriage collapsed" – Josie Long

"My friend said she was giving up drinking from Monday to Friday. I'm just worried she's going to dehydrate" – Kerri Godliman

"Ken Dodd is one of my favourite comics, and one of the richest in showbusiness – he has Swiss money in Irish banks" – Roy Walker

"I wonder what would happen if Franz Ferdinand were assassinated?" – Glenn Wool

"My uncle Cleetus is illiterate and ambidextrous. Which is a double tragedy. He is unable to write, with both hands" – Wilson Dixon

"I like David Beckham. Most of us have skeletons in our closet. But he takes his out in public" – Andrew Lawrence

"If Britons were left to tax themselves, there would be no schools, no hospitals, just a 500-mile-high statue of Diana, Princess of Wales" – Andy Zaltzman

"Surgery is just stabbing in a courteous environment" – A L Kennedy

"I know someone whose dream is to be an actor but they're not that good – they got mugged, and had to audition for the part of themselves on 'Crimewatch'. They got Passer-by No 2" – Isy Suttie

"My boyfriend likes role play. He likes to pretend we're married. He waits until I go to bed, then he looks at porn and has a wank" – Joanna Neary

"I was talking to my friend from New York yesterday, and I used the expression, 'You can't polish a turd'. He looked at me, disgusted, and said, 'No, you can't, but you can roll it in glitter'. He's a lovely guy but I wouldn't want to go to a craft fair with him" – Steve Williams

"My Nan had a plastic hip put in, but I thought she should have replaced it with a Slinky, 'cause if she fell down the stairs again..." – Steve Williams

"A headline last year, after the death of Saddam Hussein, read: 'Tyrant is hanged'. My auntie looked at the newspaper and sobbed, 'Who's going to present "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?"' " – Steve Williams

"I used to go out with Christopher Reeve, but I just had to keep standing him up" – Steve Hall

"I despise cliquishness, for reasons only my four closest friends will ever properly understand" – Steve Hall

"Where I'm from, people aren't quick. A girl once asked her mum, 'Can I have a Cadbury's Creme Egg?' The mum said, 'No, you can't Danielle, I've already told you, darling – bird flu!'" – Tom Deacon

"I once buggered a man unconscious. I'm lying, he was already unconscious when I found him" – Tom Deacon

"I never know the right thing to say, especially during sex. After my first time, I said to the girl, 'That's it, I'm afraid'" – Tom Deacon

"I'm the eldest of five children. My parents aren't Catholic, just reckless" – Danielle Ward

"I was in Halifax one Friday night in July, and I thought they were having an 'idiots and whores' theme party, but no – that's just Halifax on a Friday night" – Rob Deering

"I do love Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. He always looks so... clean. But if you went out dressed like that round our way, you'd get the MDF kicked out of you" – Domestic Goddi Rosie Wilkinson & Helen O'Brien

"I've got nothing against disabled people, I've even got one of their stickers on my car" – Damian Callinan

"My granny was recently beaten to death by my granddad. Not as in, with a stick – he just died first" – Alex Horne

Went for a walk

We went on a hunt for bluebells today.  We found some.

We walked back under some big sky.

And some of us got a bit tired on the way home.

It was the first time we’d been into this wood.  We’d been near it, but not in it before.  It’s less than ten minutes walk from our house.  We will be going back.

Chocolate denied

A friend told me about some research being planned by the University of Aberdeen Rowett Institute of Nutrition and Health.

It sounded fun so I sent an e-mail expressing interest in donating my body to science, or at least volunteering to participate in their research.

This was their reply:

“Dear Sir or Madam,

Thank you so much for your interest in our Cocoa study.

We have been a bit overwhelmed by the number of responses that we have got. Thus I have to write with regret that we cannot sign you up for our cocoa study because we have enough volunteers now.

We are very grateful that you have contacted us about the study and we hope you are not too disappointed about our reply.

Thanks again and all the best,

Luisa Ostertag”

They hope I’m not too disappointed.  I’m gutted, and will console myself with the remains of a box of Milk Tray which has been looking at me all day.

I was their perfect research subject!  Their loss.

Facebook application

A friend of mine is considering the merits of his mum joining Facebook.

Other friends have put their cats onto Catbook or dogs onto Dogbook, both of which are Facebook applications.

Others have put their babies on Babybook.

I can’t see the benefit of Catbook, Dogbook or Babybook, but I can see the benefit of my mum joining Facebook.  I can see downsides too though.

If I mum were on Facebook I might tone down some of my content.  I might mind my language a bit and I might moderate my friend’s comments.  But other than those small inconveniences it would be great to keep in touch using something so easy.

Trouble is, my mum can’t join Facebook because she isn’t around anymore.  So this got me thinking.  Do you think there’d be a receptive market for a new Facebook application: Deadbook?

Together again

Does anyone else have this problem or is it just another “it’s just me” problem?

When I type together, without concentrating overly, I always type togather.

I spotted that someone else had done it in a tweet, which made me think it may not be that uncommon.

It’s not that obvious because I’m usually saved by the spellchecker but occasionally one mistype slips the net.

You too?

Texts

We know I have a haunted handbag and the ghost hasn’t gone anywhere.  It’s still there.

A sample of texts on my phone this evening:

“Is ten o’clock tomorrow okay with you?  I am assuming it is not going to be raining x”

“You aren’t actually typing anything !”

“Very funny another empty text !”

“Okay so you send me 5 blank text messages while you are driving and manage to answer a call while you speak to someone else and you don’t speak !”

I checked my phone.  I’d actually sent 13 blank text messages to Janet.

Sorry Janet.  It was my handbag ghost.

Confession

I attended the school’s Eucharist on Friday.

I have observed that many of the songs used in such services are familiar tunes revised with religious lyrics. One such hymn went like this:

We have a king who rides on a donkey, (3 times)

And his name is Jesus

Chorus:

Jesus, the King is risen, (3 times)

Early in the morning

Trees are waving a royal welcome (3 times)

For the King called Jesus

Chorus

We have a King who cares for people (3 times)

And his name is Jesus

Chorus

I don’t know whether you’ve already figured out which tune accompanies these words but if you haven’t, let me put you out of your misery, it’s Drunken Sailor.

Well I was singing along with everyone else but, found to my horror that when the chorus came round I’d slipped into pirate speak.

My chorus finished “Earlye in the mornin’” with associated emphasis.

Forgive me Father…

Tough times

The credit crunch is making life difficult for many. A dear friend sent me some handy tips that I’d like to pass on to you

• DON'T waste money on expensive ipods. Simply think of your favourite tune and hum it. If you want to "switch tracks", simply think of another song you like and hum that instead.
• DON'T waste money on expensive paper shredders to avoid having your identity stolen. Simply place a few dog turds in the bin bags along with your old bank statements.
• HOMEOWNERS: Prevent burglars stealing everything in the house by simply moving everything in the house into your bedroom when you go to bed. In the morning, simply move it all back again.
• SAVE money on expensive personalised car number plates by simply changing your name to match your existing plate. - Mr. KVL 741Y,
• DON'T waste money buying expensive binoculars; simply stand closer to the object you wish to view.
• AN empty aluminium cigar tube filled with angry wasps makes an inexpensive vibrator.
• MANCHESTER UNITED FANS can save money on expensive new kits by simply strapping a large fake penis to your forehead. It is now clear to all, as to your allegiance.
• SAVE electricity by turning off all the lights in your house and walking around wearing a miner's hat.
• HOUSEWIVES, the best way to get two bottles of washing-up liquid for the price of one is by putting one in your shopping trolley and the other in your coat pocket.
• OLD telephone directories make ideal personal address books, simply cross out the names and address of people you don't know.
• SAVE on booze by drinking cold tea instead of whisky. The following morning you can create the effects of a hangover by drinking a thimble full of washing up liquid and banging your head repeatedly on the wall.
• SAVE a fortune on laundry bills. Give your dirty shirts to Oxfam, they will wash and iron them and you can buy them back for fifty pence.
• OLD people, if you feel cold indoors this winter, simply pop outside for ten minutes without a coat, when you go back inside you will really feel the benefit.
• CAN'T afford contact lenses? Simply cut out small circles of cling film and press them into your eyes.
• WHY pay the earth for expensive jigsaws? Just take a bag of frozen chips from the freezer and try piecing together potatoes.
• MIX tea with coffee, and leave in the fridge to cool. Hey presto! Toffee.
• MAKE your own inexpensive mints by leaving blobs of toothpaste to dry on a window sill. Use striped toothpaste to make humbugs.
• SHOPPERS, when buying oranges, get more for your money by peeling them before taking them to the counter to be weighed.
• WOMEN: Don't waste energy faking orgasms. Most men couldn't care less anyway and you could use the saved energy to Hoover the house afterwards.

Rude car

On the way to work in a 30 mile an hour limit I was “flashed” by a car going in the opposite direction.

A few things ran through my mind:

Am I speeding?  No I wasn’t.

Is there a police speed trap just around the corner?  If so, I don’t care because I’m not speeding.

Have I got my fog lights on?  No.

Have I got my headlights on full beam?  No, lights are off.

Have I got a flat tyre?  No, car seems to be handling fine.

Was I driving like a maniac and annoying other road users?  On this occasion, no.

Have I remembered to get dressed before leaving the house?

I admit that forgetting this last one is an unlikely scenario but I feel I’d explored all other possible explanations for the flash.

Then I realised what had happened.  My little squeeze Fiesta had just had a friendly hello from another squeeze Fiesta.  How cute, and my car hadn’t responded, how rude.

A lesson in getting it wrong

HR wrote to me with a letter dated for last September and addressed it to Christy.

I received the letter in February and my name’s not Christy.

I’ve just received my numbers for the latest round of redundancies.  This is the financial payoff I’ll receive if I leave the company after almost 18 years of service.

I would consider this document to be important and I would expect it to be accurate.

How stupid of me.

They have a start date for me that is almost, but not quite, two years wrong.

Not only is that exceptionally irritating and yet typical of HR efficiency, it also under calls the amount to which I would be entitled.

You know what.  If they can’t be bothered to put the time and effort into communicating the redundancy package then I can’t be bothered to accept their inaccurate offer.