Wednesday, February 28, 2007
You see, there are prisoners up here, (well, Glasgow actually) complaining about not having theirown pants, having to wear any old pants given to them, (presumably clean) now, I was under the misapprehension that people in prisons are being punished. They are paying their debt to society for whatever crime they have committed, whether it be murder, theft, rape, fraud, a crime whatever it may be. I personally think that prison should be a punishment and yet I think many of these convicts actually get a better life in prison. They may have to share a bedroom, but they are warm and dry, have three square meals a day, gym facilities, satellite television, pool tables, computor access, libraries, education, a daily thirty minute telephone call. (As far as I'm aware, our soldiers, serving in places like Iraq and Afghanistan, get a twenty minute telephone card. Weekly...)
Where is the punishment, the deterrent? Is it really beyond the imagination of these people to reoffend, simply to be reincarcerated and to continue living in the manner to which they have become accustomed? Yes, I'm sure there are dreadful things that go on in prisons too, drugs being a small part of the problem, but I do believe these people should be being punished and shouldn't have so many 'rights', otherwise, what is the point?
I maybe shouldn't mention that I would be all for the return of capital punishment in serious cases that are proven without doubt, or that I would love to bring back National Service, because I believe this would instill respect and discipline. Not to mention corporal punishment in schools. No, I'm not outraged that my children might be beaten, because they wouldn't be. When I was a child, our headmaster had 'the slipper' in his office, but I was not once aware of anyone ever actually receiving the punishment, the threat of it's presence was enough. Now, there is nothing to be scared of or respect, the teachers no longer have the upper hand, the pupils and parents do.
And another thing, bring back the 'beat bobby'. I remember being berated by our local bobby when I was about six years old for riding my (sister's) bike on the pavement. I was terrified and have never committed a crime since. It worked for me!
This post is a bit of a mess, trying to squeeze alot of moans into one, but it all boils down to discipline and respect, or rather, the lack of.
I'll stop stamping now.
(And the pants thing was merely to illustrate a point. They should be grateful to have pants at all!)
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
It was a certain high street retail company that had charged me for something I had never received. Now, it's out of stock. Pants. At least I made the call.
Yes, I jogged, yes I enjoyed (!!??) it and yes, I shall go again.
I'm quite impressed actually. I'm not the slightest bit sore. Must be fitter than I thought!
Monday, February 26, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
I've just noticed that the buds that had appeared, that I had assumed were the usual new leaf buds, look like they could actually be flower buds!
I'm a little excited about this. I am not reknowned for my green fingers.
I shall post pictures if I was right.
If I'm wrong, I shall keep very quiet...
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
It was diced and sweating quicker than two shakes of a lamb's tail.
There is no escape in my kitchen...
And that is how exciting my life is. The Great Vegetable Escape.
Should have been yesterday really. Made Pea Soup yesterday...
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The shame of it is I didn't make enough for me. Pants.
I don't ask the children to give anything up in particular, because they will chose things like tidying, bathing, homework, so it kind of defeats the object, but we do talk about it and how it all came about, Lent, Easter and all that. I am not going to give up anything this year either, but I am going to cut back on chocolate and wine, question myself each time why I want some, whether I need it and could I do without it. Thinking about it rather than eating or drinking without question is a step forward for me.
I have given something up in the past and usually successfully and without cheating, but the desire just grows to huge proportions, so come Easter, I'm likely to gorge. Not a pretty sight. This way, I'm hoping for more control and calm.
Now, tell me, what was my secret?
It's like those things you put in a safe place, but then forget where the safe place is. Speaks volumes about my memory...
Especially as this activity seems to come from the Houses of Parliament.
(There you go, I'll have done it again now, saying all the wrong things.)
Just for the record, I have never had, nor do I ever want to have an MP of any kind in my bath. Unless David has a change of career, but I can't see that happening somehow.
Nor do I want a cup of tea in my bath. It's got to be wine!
Makes you wonder though...
You scored as Albus Dumbledore. You are very wise, observant,
and analyctical. You have a very "well-organized" mind, which
makes you function in a calm and fair manner. Though you get
angered easily, its rare of you to ever act our of temper. You are
constantly seeing the good in people and are naturally forgiving
because of it. You're easy to please and a great person to learn from.
Harry Potter Character Combatibility Test
created with QuizFarm.com
Monday, February 19, 2007
BT kindly sent me some fridge magnets, quite a while ago now. They were just a collection of random words in a sheet that could be taken apart and therefore sentences made.
Whilst our eldest daughter is restrained and reserved like her father, her saving grace is obviously her sense of humour. It's like mine.
"To mum love you from the family and socks the cat"
We don't have a cat...
"Out with 2 friends and chatting to home using a mobile"
"1 cup of tea in the bath with Angus Robertson MP"
This one I think was the most disturbing, AR is our local MP, he visited the school a while ago and signed autographs (I should imagine he spoke to the children and answered questions too...) and it was this autograph that had been tagged onto the end of 'the message'. Disturbing because? He doesn't even preach the right politics let alone frequent my bath.
(Tea? More likely a glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay!)
Could someone please post a comment, (anonymously will do, but not you Ruth, that won't help...!) and tell me why so many 'strangers' are interested in this post? It's about sentences made up out of random words. Random, get it? I'm just curious.
Friday, February 16, 2007
I was a Brownie, (they didn't have Rainbows when I was a child, but these to were both Rainbows) and I was a Guide until I was about fifteen I suppose, but I can also boast Girls Brigade, Sea Cadets and the local Youth Orchestra (the windband and the recorder orchestra sections). In my day, Brownies was about being a little girl and learning useful things, like polishing shoes, making fairy cakes, plaiting newspapers to make a packaway seat, all sorts of stuff.
We had a Brownie parent meeting the other evening, to decide on the future of the pack, how to support the current leaders and collect ideas for activities. One mother suggested a pamper evening. For the Brownies. You know, make-up, nail varnish that sort of thing. There sat the other mothers nodding approval and "Ooo"s and "Ahhh"s from all corners.
Me, I'm silently screaming "NOOOOOO!".
Call me old fashioned or a prude, but I don't want to encourage my daughter to wear make-up, short skirts and cropped tops, to make herself appear older than her tender eight years and available. To make her vulnerable.
At first I thought I will just make Ciara 'busy' that night, so that I don't have to confess my austerity in public. Then I decided I will have a private word with Brown Owl and explain why I am unhappy for my daughter to take part in this activity. If other parents don't have a problem it's entirely up to them obviously, I don't want to make an issue of it, but it's just not for me and my daughter.
Although Ciara probably won't agree. She would probably love it.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
That is not perhaps the most eloquent piece of writing, I'm sure someone somewhere could have made it far more beautiful to read, but it does just what it says on the tin, and so does my marriage!
So anyway, last night we cooked ourselves a beautiful meal, because we can produce something fabulous for a fraction of the cost of a babysitter, two taxis and the disappointing meal at a restaurant.
Goats Cheese Souffle
Baked Halibut (well, they didn't have any, so it was Talapia, or something, from Jamaica...) with Cabbage and Bacon, a Tarragon Cream Sauce and Potato Rosti
Baked Chocolate Torte with Raspberry Sauce
Lush. Not to mention the perfectly chilled Tattinger (I may have mentioned that before?) and some Chardonnay Columbard.
The children aren't at school today. Or tomorrow. Or Monday.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
PS I've been writing again, if you haven't visited the other blog recently. Or maybe you have and it's just too rubbish to comment.
PPS Was that a subtle enough hint? Sorry, halfway through a bottle of champagne for Valentine's Day. Can't guarantee my Cheese Souflees are going to turn out. Especially as I can't spell them...
UPDATE 15th February, 2007
It's gone now...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A little later, I was vegetating in front of GMTV whilst eating my breakfast. I find thinking and concentrating at this time of day too hard. Some chap, (a complete madman in my book) was filming himself skydiving when it all went horribly wrong. We watched as the ground spun towards us at break neck speed, then the screen went blank as he hit the deck. Could be messy. His friend, who was also videoing whilst skydiving, lands safely and runs towards his friend, who has landed in six foot of brambles.
"Mate, speak to me. Are you ok?"
Talk about a silly question with a totally deadpan reply, this had me rolling around with tears streaming down my face.
(He escaped with a punctured lung and a smashed ankle.)
Nothing much has happened round here today.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Reason being? Well, our trek into the wilderness, (well, close to the Cairngorms actually) is almost becoming a reality. I'm still not convinced that we'll get to do the Eastern Cairngorm Challenge, but as my sister and brother-in-law have decided to take the children to Gairloch for a few days without us in the summer, I thought we could make good use of the time. So, we are catching a bus to Aviemore, then onto Glenmore and camping overnight. Then we'll walk through the Ryvoan Pass to Nethy Bridge and onto Grantown on Spey, roughly 15 miles, (although I need to check that one) camp there, then walk along the Dava Way to Forres and home, roughly 21 miles. (Ouch.) I decided the Ryvoan Pass was a little more scenic than the Speyway from Aviemore to Grantown and we've done part of it before. Last time we saw a Red Deer stag, (a little too close for comfort as it was during the rutt...) and a pair of Roe deer, not to mention one or two other little delights.
Excited, me? I have made one or two lists and planning how I can travel light, seeing as I've got to carry my own rucksack with part of a tent, a sleeping bag and a roll mat. Not to mention the primus stove, a kettle, knife and fork...
Yes, I'm excited.
And I've got to wait until the second week in July.
Friday, February 02, 2007
I found it hard to choose, my favourite Wilfred Owen, from English Lit days, one of my own, (but I already have a blog for that!) or a good one for a nice Friday, like this one...
Breavin' on the Window-pane
It's cold an' grey an' still outside,
And everything is wet with rain.
I'm standing on the cushion seat,
And breavin' on the window-pane.
An' drawin' pictures with me 'and.
The window's high against the sky-
I can't see out unless I stand.
I've drawn a house an' chimley-pot;
I've drawn a man an' child'en too,
A napple an' a toasting fork,
An' someone who is jus' like you,
And Gran'ma sittin' in the rain.
The pane's so small I've filled it all,
And 'specks I'll have to breave again.
But Jane has spoilt it now; she says
I want a whippin'-an' I don't.
She's rubbed the window clean, and says
She'll fetch a policeman-but she won't.
And now she's gone downstairs again
I'm breavin' on the window-pane.
I'll draw a nugly one of Jane.