Das Tag enthält zu viele Wörter. Ein Tag darf nur aus maximal 5 Wörtern bestehen. Bitte trenne Deine Tags mit Kommas und nicht mit Leerzeichen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for your understanding. We hope you enjoy the new improved tag system.
The Indian summer, after the leaves have turned but before things get horrid.
2. "It's too cold to snow!" Do you think it ever is?
Nope. It's fucking freezing when it snows, hadn't you noticed ?
3. Do you feel there is still a place for British Summer Time or should we just stop changing the clocks?
What clocks, and who's this we ?
4. Are there certain meals you only eat in certain seasons (salad in summer, stew in winter)?
I'm all for spicy lumpy root-vegetable casseroles. In fairness to the kids though, they won't eat those in winter or salads in summer because Vitamin C and roughage is like stoopid
5. Autumn is...?
Mellow fruitlessness
]]>Tonight our choir sang for deaf children in the Congo ...
Sheesh ...
Talk about a tough crowd ... 
We were at a Northern Working Men's Social Club who's quagmirey carpets would have made Bernard Manning's eyes water (I've got a soft spot for old Bernard, who was totally unfairly voted 16th in 100 worst Britons after he was dead, but that's an argument that will have to wait)...
Anyway, we sang the songs the whole world sings when it's a bit pissed, and brought in a small audience who bought the raffle tickets...
The money raised will help enable medics in the Congo to fit hearing-aids and fund cochlear-implant operations for some of the most economically-ergo-health-disadvantaged children this world knows ...
And the Co-Op is still running it's National Deaf Children's Society gig for rest of this year by the way.
]]>
I have a scratched retina and an eyepatch so can't drive for a couple of days and am relieved of the responsibility of dealing with mum's meds after all ...
Be very careful what you wish for !
Stick it...
]]>Apart from that I'm completely impartial ...
Wankers anyway innit ?
]]>Two to the mobile (Sinister's sick and sobbing again)...
Three to the landline (Where Is Firstborn ?) He's walking 7 miles home in the pissing rain is where he is, but we don't know that because Sinister's got his mobile and is now tucked up in bed ... the taxi and bus-drivers pull out all the stops and start a search for a vulnerable young adult and call me back every 10 minutes ...
Four to the district nurses and social workers who can't possibly be expected to administer my confuseddotcoms mum's medications 4 times a day ... I have to do it . I conclude that they are overreacting in a Hyacinth Bouquet twirly pit of Abbeyfield Hell way, and things have a habit of sorting themselves out ...
And Five ...
To the trusty wall who absorbed all my pain and yet asked so little ...
When I had a phone at the end of each arm and was looking at the inbox in the middle , I perchanced upon the dodgy artex ...
Who you gonna call ? (it whispered hopefully )
The Plasterers ? ...
I know where I'll be doing some of my Christmas shopping ...
Vandals target anti-hunting Lush
Branches of ethical cosmetics chain attacked after campaign launched in support of saboteurs
By Tom Peck
Monday, 19 October 2009
In the past week, the cosmetics chain Lush has seen its branches vandalised and its staff threatened, immediately after it launched an anti-fox hunting campaign. In Chelmsford, Essex, a man returned to the same store on three occasions to knock over a display of Fabulous Mrs Fox bubble bars, the proceeds from which Lush donates to the Hunt Saboteurs Association (HSA). Staff called police.
Store manager Sue McKenna said: "He first came in on Tuesday, knocked over all the bubble bars and leaflets, and said he was going to come back every day until the campaign stops. Then he ran out. When he came back the third time, an off-duty police officer was in the shop, who told him to leave. It was then that we rang 999." Essex police were unavailable to comment on the incident last night.
In Manchester, members of the HSA had been invited to the Lush store to help with the campaign and hand out leaflets. But a few days before the event, a man entered the shop and told a member of staff that "there will be trouble" if it went ahead. Staff contacted police, and were relieved when the event on Saturday passed without incident.
In Maidstone, Kent, a kebab was smeared over the shop front and the words 'Fuck You' scratched into the glass, while in Taunton, Somerset, an anonymous caller told staff to "watch their backs". Promotional campaign blackboards were also covered with "Keep Hunting" stickers, photos of which appeared on the online forum of the magazine Horse & Hound.
The Countryside Alliance, which has been highly critical of Lush's decision to support the HSA, has urged hunt supporters not to target the stores. In a statement, the charity, which campaigns to overturn the ban on fox hunting, said: "It is important to realise that while the rural community is deeply upset at Lush's misguided decision to support the Hunt Saboteurs Association, any sort of direct, abusive or tactical protest, illegal or legal, is not appropriate and such action will most definitely not be supported by the Countryside Alliance."
The Alliance had previously criticised Lush for supporting the HSA, saying it "advocates direct action and illegal methods to disrupt hunting activities". Head of media Tim Bonner said: "While we support the view that everyone has their right to an opinion, there are groups who legally oppose hunting, and the HSA is not one of them."
Hunt saboteurs have been regularly criticised for the methods they employ in disrupting hunts. Many hunt followers tell tales of having been pulled from their horses by "sabs".
Lee Moon, of the HSA, said: "The only reason the HSA continues to exist is because hunts up and down the country routinely break the law while killing foxes. We are the only ones who see what is really going on in the countryside, and it's we who are responding to it by getting between the hunters and the hunted, much the same as we have been doing for almost half a century. The hunts are still killing, the police aren't policing and so we are still sabbing."
The company, founded by Mark Constantine, donated more than £500,000 to charities and campaign groups last year. In December 2008 it paid the legal fees of the 56 protesters from Plane Stupid who broke into Stansted airport and delayed thousands of passengers.
]]>
"But I don't want to go among mad people," said Alice. "Oh, you can't help that," said the cat. "We're all mad here."
Everyone's got it/ you ...
Along with their more pressing roman-candlesque economic and political problems ...
If only we had been a size 10 within spitting distance of a Primark, we might not have had to wander around looking like such sacks-of-shite when we were nobbut needy lasses ...
Where where you ...
But there you go ...
PS : I love you
]]>I try to stay in touch with friends, even if it is only every 12 years or so ...
So yesterday I drove white-knuckled to Sale with Sinister and her mate listening to Fearne at mega-volume in the back (Boo-Yah !) ... to meet a mate who I haven't seen for 11 years. I don't know why, because it's only up the road and I used to do the trip easily (see a jazz band at The Malt Shovel in Altringham and drive home, pissed, every weekend no problem)...
So we went on the Manchester Eye, which is a bit like the London Eye except the carriages are smaller and they sway around a lot, and you get a view of Manchester instead of London ...
Then the grown-ups peeled off and had lunch at The Urbis, and a quick tour of the current hip-hop exhibition therein, before having a look around the medieval centre (some of it relocated because of the dreadful IRA bombing) and diving into the Cathedral ...
Tell you what though ...
I think Liverpool is the more graceful city (and considerably less mucky, which is saying something !).
And as always with very good friends, the years between just melted away.
]]>Firstborn has been provided with two pieces of kit (and considering they sent the list to the Blind Society, I'm frankly surprised they didn't turn up with a white stick)...
One is a door-beacon... you knock on the door and a light flashes. And flashes and flashes and flashes. In fact it strobes like the opening sequence in Joe-90 every time someone does a jobby let alone flushes the loo two doors away, so is probably best left to a research team studying epilepsy... 
The vibrating alarm clock is guaranteed to trip off that lump of rock in Gran Canaria and start a tsunami. We just 'pop' it under his mattress and watch it sail out of the window on day-one. Well, rather it than me, and I think this might well work if we gaffer-tape it to Firstborn's head ...
And the fire-service rang again. I don't know why they changed their minds because they seemed so adamant that nothing would come of our applications for life-saving kit for Firstborn and we have a bad history of time-wasting assessments, but they assure me that this time they will wire us up so that when the smoke-alarm goes off (which is quite a lot in our house) they will scramble forthwith. Imagine ! Firemen at the door every time you burn a slice of toast... I'm living the dream. 
And a prospective PA/buddy is coming round on Saturday for an interview.
If luck is after all like buses, then three don't just come at once ...
We've hit the depot !
]]>I'd love to see some pumpkin or turnip-heads on BCUK over the next week, both before and after Halloween (well, not months after obviously)...
I tried to prepare a turnip once by microwaving it, thinking that only the insides would soften ...
One electrical fire, totally knackered microwave and burning turnip later I realised that it was mostly other people who had the heads-up on the whole living&learning thing
And once we could only find a one solitary deformed melon, so had to make do with 'the scary deformed melon-man' ...
The point is to scare the scariest things you can think of away without recourse to a Kalashnikov ...
Anyway, talk and turnips are cheap(ish) so get on with it ...
Chop-chop !
Beloved got his totally drilled company computer back from the vets a couple of days ago and chose to try and use it tonight while I was busy in another room watching telly (Monday's a busy night)...
So after coming in several times wide-eyed and panto-waving it's not working and getting shhhushed and short-shrifted, he calls in the cavalry, who arrive post-haste and point out that plugging it in helps ...
Juzz is a star like that ...
After Crank (good film, really enjoyed it) I find them huddled around said inert computer all dewy-eyed and shouty ...
And where's the brandy gone ?
'Dunno' they chorus (as if they could hope to fool a woman who has lost her teapot and Christmas cake that very same morning to the same dark forces)...
All I can say is ...
Have a good day at work guys !
*Mwahahahahaaa!'
On the downside there is the danger of children being vocationally sidelined at an early age and that teaching could become close-ended, because there's nothing the education system likes better than a neat ending with a full-stop at the end of it ...
But there is a glorious possibility that children's natural strengths and enthusiasms could be stirred up in a frenzy of aspiration to live a happy and productive life doing something they enjoy and are good at.
This is after all the point and purpose of education, to nurture the whole child and help them to become fully-functioning autonomous human-beings.
It would be a balancing act, but we're already teaching Wordsworth, quadratic equations and the Napoleonic wars to kids who have fixed ideas about their futures as astronauts or burger-flippers.
The playground in school as in life, exists for the precious time in between the slog of trying to make that life turn out for the best...
We should tread carefully and hope for full employment, 'lest we step on their dreams.
]]>I made a decision to use open Deafstar titled posts to chart our feelings and progress through the whole sorry caboodle since he lost his hearing, but his headspace and meltdowns of that magnitude should remain his own business no matter how deeply they affect us, and I felt that I'd overexposed him and overstepped a mark ...
So, thank you for listening anyway ...
]]>It tastes of fermented nappies ...
It's the anarchist and anti-christ of the food world ....
Cheeeeeeze !
The more you wince, the better it is !
See that stinky Stilton ?
That's me that is ...
]]>Sadly, the program was then devoted to the only topic the one-trick-pony was qualified to discourse on and defend (no matter how odiously) - the BN-bloody-P..
If the questions had been broader and the discussions deeper, then Griffin would have been exposed as the political charlatan he is.
The arena was patently a middle-class bear-trap and the weapons of choice were wagging fingers, pained expressions and a general sense of grievance that wrong-minded voters had set this particular bear among the cooing pigeons ...
All Griffin had to do was sit there while the program effectively did the job of alienating economically insecure jingoists from the main party-lines for him.
]]>You know that you've made everyone else thoroughly miserable don't you...?
Well done !
*shhh*
]]>MS has been pretty much ruled out, so it's one test on his eyes to confirm the possibility of CMV (scarring on the retinas)and a bloodtest to rule out underlying metabolic disorders ...
As the Doctor said as I sat boohooing - we do need to draw a line under this.
The problem with the eye-test is that this virus attacks neurons in the ear and eyes, and all we can hope for is that is that it's already done it's worst ...
As Firstborn said when we left the hospital 'I want a word with god when I die'...
And I thought ... 'God.. hopefully He and I'll be well dead by then son, if I can't sort it here I'll bloody well sort it there'
And I thought about him losing his sight too ...
But what I said was 'move on'
]]>I know where the 'delete' key is and how to block, edit or report someone who gets on my tits ...
OMG! Whaddya mean ...
It's not a secret ?
The last was 'The Orphanage'
The best was the original 'Haunting of Hill House' ...
Those breathing walls and the ghost hand will haunt me ...
Forever ...
'And we who walk here walk alone'
*hides under the bed and squeaks like a mouse*
Sinister and her mate had some *cough* information ...
Not convinced they were going to get due remunerative thanks from Crimestoppers, they wended their way merrily to the local police-station and sang like sparrers ...
Hence them just being brought home by two men in very sharp suits, and not long leather coats as one might have supposed (and hoped) ...
Beloved perched himself sartorially on the arm of the sofa in order to speak mano e mano to these uber law enforcers (yes,for it was they ) and then rather unsartorically fell off ...
I'm living the dreeeeem ...
(If the dream is a cop soap-opera reconstructed by a confuddled Follyoaks/Shameless script-writer) ...
Va-va-Vroooom !
I gave up my God (well, not strictly mine), my firstborn child, my mother (pending) and my bunions ...
What do they want... exceedingly good jam on it ?
I also make very, very good chutney...
*scratchnsniff*
Good innit ?
Highly (but hey-ho) ...
It wasn't a surprise, and I think she's taking a sensible approach, because if Abbeyfield knew they would get in a flap and try to move her into nursing care way before she needs to go, and she is happy where she is...
The district nurses and myself will keep an eye on her in case she needs or wants further intervention, and the consultant will review her every 2 months...
She's 88 and ready to go ...
But will she ?
Hell...
Nooooooo !
]]>On Monday Carol Ann Duffy returned to Wirral as poet laureate to meet year 11 pupils from several schools at Weatherhead High School Media Arts College, who hosted the event as part of ‘Bookfest’. As the first woman to hold the most prominent literary title she says ‘It’s fabulous, and there are so many great woman poets that it’s about time’
She peppered readings from her anthology ‘The World’s Wife’ and other poems with gentle anecdotes, taking questions on her influences and technique from the enthralled young audience , before being interviewed by Weatherhead pupils on their own ‘Ice Radio.
Her references are scholarly and classical. She taps a rich vein of stories to subvert and retell, using the voices of people pushed to the margins of events and sometimes sanity. Her point is that poems add to the world and have a ‘living relationship’ with the reader, they do not have an agenda.
Her advice for aspiring young poets is ‘Read as much as you can, and read backwards through time, starting with the contemporary.’. She herself was an avid reader and writer from an early age, filling notebooks with homages to her favourite poets : Yeats, Tennyson and Shakespeare, (who she says she would have ‘followed home’). Sadly, her mum threw away those notebooks (as mums do) . As Duffy says ‘she’ll be kicking herself now !’
Fortunately the poet laureate is no longer obliged to write for state occasions . She could no more write on demand than fly to her beloved and often featured moon, which NASA experimentally bombed for water last week . ‘Imagine if you’d looked up and they’d broken it. I’d have refused to pay taxes !’.
However, as the Nation’s primary poet in interesting times, she will undoubtedly respond to events in her deeply personal and intuitive style.
The annual honorarium she receives from HM The Queen is being used to fund a new Ted Hughes Award for New Work in Poetry..
And the butt of sack ? These days the 600 bottles of sherry are gifted from Spainish sherry makers, not the British monarchy … perhaps predictably, Carol Ann Duffy prefers hers dry ...
The poet laureate with extra laurels !
It transpired to be 4 hours I could ill afford, but it was worth it ...
I was waiting in the foyer of the school. The Head rushed in a couple of times to ask if his distinguished guest had arrived, and when she did he rushed in again and there was much handshaking and offers of coffee. The Head kindly invited me to remain in the foyer to wait for Dave the photographer, and it was Carol Ann who asked... why couldn't I have a cup of coffee too ?...
I jibbered about it being an honour and how I'd blogged about her getting the laureatship and how I was going to follow her around all afternoon like a puppy (which I think put her totally at ease )...
So off we trundled to the office ...
The Head was saying something about the division of language and literature in the classroom and league tables, whilst we bemoaned the loss of geography and history as core subjects and what the world would be like now if our grans and mums hadn't left school at 14, as our coffees went cold ...
At the reading I wrote reams. I don't know shorthand ... I was describing myself as a 'resting' teacher not a journalist just to get everyone with a problem or a panto out of my face ...
Carol Ann invited me to have a glass of wine and a chat before the evening bash. Unfortunately when I got home I found my kids had spent the afternoon chucking dinner-plates, talcum-powder and gallons of water at each other in a bit of a domestic WW3, so I spent the night harumphing and pointing at random corners shouting ...
'And you can clean that up too, you little shits!'
(I wrote a short article about the good bits)
]]>You don't believe in the no-win scenario.
Beam me up Scotty, there's no intelligent life down here !
