Okay, I really did miss yesterday, Wednesday 12th though this post says it was done then. Yesterday was a busy day and I was out all through the afternoon and evening. I didn't actually end up getting home until 9.30, with a box full of pizza. By the time I'd eaten that, had a drink and watched a programme about multi faith funerals, I was good for nothing but bed. Mind you, the Pizza turned out to be a mistake because I suffered for it. Indigestion at 2am is no joke. Yes, I had some good antacid tablets in the bedside cabinet, and they took the heat out of the indigestion straight away, they still leave you feeling a bit odd at 2am. I didn't get back to sleep till 4, but at least I am no longer required to get up as early as I once was. So I go some decent sleep before the night was over.
The big news yesterday was about the results of the Bishop of Liverpool and his team's report on the Hillsborough disaster. I still remember, in great detail, what I knew of the events of that day. I was at home on my own, my wife having gone to see her Dad in Liverpool. It was one of those days, rather like 9/11 when news trickles in over an extended period of time. At the time I was appalled at the dreadful loss of life, and the conditions in which the 96 died. Hearing, In yesterday's report, that half of those who died were still capable of being saved some time after the initial report said they were dead makes those events even worse.
To discover now that the reports of the police colluding to hide the truth, and engineering a situation that attempted to make them seem good, makes things all the worse. And I know that there are still people out there who still lay the blame on Liverpool fans, despite yesterday's report, makes me wonder about the nature of some people's way of thinking.
I was happy to see that the Chief Constable of South Yorkshire believes that it is necessary, now, to proceed to the prosecution of some of those involved. That is the right thing to do. I should also say that I really agree with those who have said that the Sun Newspaper's apology for it's story, all those years ago, about all of the blame falling on the shoulders of the Liverpool fans, really is too little, too late.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Posted with Blogsy
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
A Bad Day
It's only a bad day in the sense that I just cannot think of anything to write about today. It's too obvious in a sense to write about September 11th, which has already become an iconic date. Yes, I do remember where I was when I heard about the events of that day. I had come out of work early because of a dental emergency, and I was sitting in the Dentist's chair, with the radio on when the news began to break. I went home, turned the TV on and watched those pictures coming in, of the planes hitting the towers. Of the towers falling. Sometimes, there are no words ........
But today was a bit of a nothing day. I walked Jasper in the rain and we got wet. I came home, had lunch and did some work on a Newsletter I produce.
So, in order to raise the tone a little, here's a nice picture.
The picture is taken from the Guardian's wonderful Eyewitness series. This picture shows Beth Tweddell, the Olympic Bronze Medal gymnast, who has now "retired". Since she no longer needs to worry so much about injuring herself in the gym, she decided to do something for fun. Me, I would have gone for a walk in the country.
Ah well.
But today was a bit of a nothing day. I walked Jasper in the rain and we got wet. I came home, had lunch and did some work on a Newsletter I produce.
So, in order to raise the tone a little, here's a nice picture.
Ah well.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Blackpool Bubbles and London Volunteers
I've just been watching a programme on the Babble Box concerning the work of the Emergency Services in Blackpool. The whole programme seems to have been concerned with the effects of drug taking on the population of Blackpool. This was definitely not about gangs of young people going to Blackpool at the weekend to get bladdered, it was about the residents and their drug habits.
One young bloke admitted to taking 80 Vallium in one session. Having destroyed his flat and threatened his landlord he was arrested. Locked in a cell he urinated on the floor, despite there being a toilet in the cell. Heathen trampled his blanked into the urine. In the morning, wrapped in the blanket, he couldn't account for what he'd done, couldn't even remember it.
They also referred to a new drug that is increasingly popular in Blackpool, called Bubble. ( Apparently the same substance is called Meeow Meeow in Cumbria (I'm surprised it's not called Baa Baa )) this substance is actually Baby Bio, a plant food, that you can buy in a Garden Centre. It makes me wonder who first tried drinking plant food and decided you could get high on it.
What sort of society are we living in when the Police are spending so much of their time dealing with idiotic young people who are off their heads on a range of substances from Vallium to Baby Bio.
It leaves me feeling increasingly concerned about my safety in a world such as this. I can certainly foresee a time when I won't be able to leave my house after dark. That is a truly scarey prospect.
Then, on the other hand we have spent the afternoon watching pictures from the celebrations in London. All the pictures of young volunteers who have enjoyed a month as Games Makers for the Olympics & Paralympics. I know which of these two groups of young people I would rather see inheriting the earth. Mind you, I cannot really see anyone who thinks of Baby Bio as a fun substance to drink living long enough to inherit anything.
Sleep well!
One young bloke admitted to taking 80 Vallium in one session. Having destroyed his flat and threatened his landlord he was arrested. Locked in a cell he urinated on the floor, despite there being a toilet in the cell. Heathen trampled his blanked into the urine. In the morning, wrapped in the blanket, he couldn't account for what he'd done, couldn't even remember it.
They also referred to a new drug that is increasingly popular in Blackpool, called Bubble. ( Apparently the same substance is called Meeow Meeow in Cumbria (I'm surprised it's not called Baa Baa )) this substance is actually Baby Bio, a plant food, that you can buy in a Garden Centre. It makes me wonder who first tried drinking plant food and decided you could get high on it.
What sort of society are we living in when the Police are spending so much of their time dealing with idiotic young people who are off their heads on a range of substances from Vallium to Baby Bio.
It leaves me feeling increasingly concerned about my safety in a world such as this. I can certainly foresee a time when I won't be able to leave my house after dark. That is a truly scarey prospect.
Then, on the other hand we have spent the afternoon watching pictures from the celebrations in London. All the pictures of young volunteers who have enjoyed a month as Games Makers for the Olympics & Paralympics. I know which of these two groups of young people I would rather see inheriting the earth. Mind you, I cannot really see anyone who thinks of Baby Bio as a fun substance to drink living long enough to inherit anything.
Sleep well!
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Olympic Summer
As I think I've said before, I guess that I fit well into the class of people who have come to be called "Grumpy Old Men". Especially first thing in the morning I can be a real pleasure to know. On top of that, I'm a confirmed Northerner. I'm not sure that word really means anything unless you are a Brit, though I rather suspect that most countries use a similar sobriquet to identify the fact that most countries have a region that sees itself as being ignored by those who live in the more prosperous, governing region. For me that has always meant that I have something of a disregard for London, the Home Counties and the South in general. Nor am I alone in this feeling.
So it's not surprising that at the start of the year I was not looking forward to the Olympic and Paralympic Games. I guess I saw them as being "London's Games". I guess that there was more than a little pique at the feeling, widely held around the Manchester Area that we were blocked from bidding for the Olympics following our very successful Commonwealth Games. There was no support at all from the Government for a Manchester bid.
I cannot be certain how or why that attitude changed. It started, without doubt, during the Olympic Torch Relay that wound its way round and round the whole country. I didn't even go to see the relay, though it came very close to where I'm sitting now. However, watching the crowds who came out to support the relay, I found my attitude changing.
But it was the Games themselves, the effort put into everything by both ablebodied and disabled athletes that has really changed my attitude. The unbelievable success by both teams touches me on my pride button. I could never have done what any of these athletes have done. The number of times that I have found myself with tears in my eyes watching Mo Farrar win the 5000 metres, or Sarah Storey winning her 4th Gold Medal. I could list moment after moment like that. It's not pride for me, it's pride for my country. It sort of makes me think about Britain.
I know we used to have an empire, but that is long, long gone. Geographically we are a small and rather insignificant group of islands off the north west corner of Europe. In land area, and population, we shrink into insignificance compared to Germany & France, never mind the giant countries like China, the USA, India &c, &c. But look at the medal tables for both sets of games and you realise that Britain, as a country, is still punching well above our weight.
Little things have made a significant difference for me. I think that the Post Office painting a postbox gold in the home town of every gold medal winner was inspired and has played its part in tying the country together. Admittedly, there is no gold postbox in Glossopdale, but you cannot have everything. I just want to finish tonight by quoting Sir Stephen Hawking who said, at the opening of the Paralympics, "Look at the stars and not at your feet."
Good night and God Bless!
So it's not surprising that at the start of the year I was not looking forward to the Olympic and Paralympic Games. I guess I saw them as being "London's Games". I guess that there was more than a little pique at the feeling, widely held around the Manchester Area that we were blocked from bidding for the Olympics following our very successful Commonwealth Games. There was no support at all from the Government for a Manchester bid.
I cannot be certain how or why that attitude changed. It started, without doubt, during the Olympic Torch Relay that wound its way round and round the whole country. I didn't even go to see the relay, though it came very close to where I'm sitting now. However, watching the crowds who came out to support the relay, I found my attitude changing.
Little things have made a significant difference for me. I think that the Post Office painting a postbox gold in the home town of every gold medal winner was inspired and has played its part in tying the country together. Admittedly, there is no gold postbox in Glossopdale, but you cannot have everything. I just want to finish tonight by quoting Sir Stephen Hawking who said, at the opening of the Paralympics, "Look at the stars and not at your feet."
Good night and God Bless!
Saturday Night & Sunday Morning
I'll start with an acknowledgement. Despite the fact that the date at the head of this blog post says Saturday, it is, in fact, Sunday. This is actually the first occasion when I have missed the new concept of the daily post. Mind you, since I have no evidence to suggest that anyone at all is reading these posts, what the eye don't see the heart won't grieve about. I must admit that the imbibing of a bottle of Mr Magners' finest Irish Pear Cider did not help in the purpose of keeping up to date with the daily blog. Mind you, it did taste awfully good!
Another interesting fact is that I am sitting in Church writing my blog. My dear wife has just expressed surprise that I am sitting in the Church pew with my iPad on my knee. However, since we got to Church an hour before the service begins, I thought that I might as well do something with the time. However, if the blog stops abruptly, and never restart, you can take it as a sign that almighty God objected in a far more permanent way. Okay so far. However, since I have a firm belief that my God is a loving and forgiving God, I think that I will be okay.
All of this has become possible thanks to the purchase of the iPad. My dear wife repeatedly tells me that I now live with it attached,as with glue, to my right hand. The iPad on its own, though, is not sufficient. I only bought the WiFi version, because the 4G model, it appears, does not work in the UK. Mind you, I'm perfectly happy with the WiFi, though it does mean that I cannot write the Blog online, sitting here in Church.
That's where Blogsy comes in. No matter whether you have ever been tempted by an iAnything, or not, you will have heard the phrase "There's an App for it." Blogsy is the App for writing my Blog. It isn't the only App for writing Blogs, but it's the one that I have found, and I am very happy with it. Tell you what, I think it is a lot better for writing my Blog than Google's Blogger. The only thing it doesn't do is to think up the content, and that is the hardest part.
Only one thing left to try is to take a photo with the built in camera, and add it to the Blog. Well, I got it, but I couldn't get it below the last sentence.
Another interesting fact is that I am sitting in Church writing my blog. My dear wife has just expressed surprise that I am sitting in the Church pew with my iPad on my knee. However, since we got to Church an hour before the service begins, I thought that I might as well do something with the time. However, if the blog stops abruptly, and never restart, you can take it as a sign that almighty God objected in a far more permanent way. Okay so far. However, since I have a firm belief that my God is a loving and forgiving God, I think that I will be okay.
All of this has become possible thanks to the purchase of the iPad. My dear wife repeatedly tells me that I now live with it attached,as with glue, to my right hand. The iPad on its own, though, is not sufficient. I only bought the WiFi version, because the 4G model, it appears, does not work in the UK. Mind you, I'm perfectly happy with the WiFi, though it does mean that I cannot write the Blog online, sitting here in Church.
That's where Blogsy comes in. No matter whether you have ever been tempted by an iAnything, or not, you will have heard the phrase "There's an App for it." Blogsy is the App for writing my Blog. It isn't the only App for writing Blogs, but it's the one that I have found, and I am very happy with it. Tell you what, I think it is a lot better for writing my Blog than Google's Blogger. The only thing it doesn't do is to think up the content, and that is the hardest part.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Heritage Open Day
Today was one of three Heritage Open Days here in the UK. Basically this is a weekend when all sorts of Heritage buildings that might not normally be open to the public, are. Once upon a time, Churches were always open, but that was in the days when people who steal things to sell for money did not steal from churches. These days they do and, as a result, churches like ours are locked up. Isn't that a great shame.
Our Church is open for three days, and people from the congregation take it in turns to be stewards. It was my turn today, from 12 noon till 1 pm. We had music and heritage films playing, but there were only two visitors during the hour. I made them a cup of coffee and had a chat with them. Two nice blokes.
Then I went home.
But I actually enjoyed my hour no end. So here is a picture of Sir Reginald Bretland. He lives in his cold stone form in the choir vestry that was once a chapel. He reclines in his stone coat on a stone pillow that looks anything but comfortable. I can't tell you much because his epigram is in Latin, but I'm sure he was a nice bloke.
Our Church is open for three days, and people from the congregation take it in turns to be stewards. It was my turn today, from 12 noon till 1 pm. We had music and heritage films playing, but there were only two visitors during the hour. I made them a cup of coffee and had a chat with them. Two nice blokes.
Then I went home.
But I actually enjoyed my hour no end. So here is a picture of Sir Reginald Bretland. He lives in his cold stone form in the choir vestry that was once a chapel. He reclines in his stone coat on a stone pillow that looks anything but comfortable. I can't tell you much because his epigram is in Latin, but I'm sure he was a nice bloke.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
A visit to the Dentist
I went to the dentist for my six month checkup on Monday. I don't need to go to the Dentist to know that my teeth are a mess. I sometimes look at people on the TV and am awe struck by the quality of their teeth. My teeth are probably the product of growing up in the 1950's, but I'm stuck with what is left of them. The left half of my top set of teeth have already gone and been replaced by plastic teeth that are, to be honest, perfectly horrible. However, the NHS, which is an admirable service on the whole, is rubbish when it comes to teeth. If your hip fails you, the NHS will give you a new hip at enormous expense, but if your teeth fail you .... My Dentist suggested that I consider implants, at £2,000.00 per tooth! For the love of God, I'm a retired teacher, not Richard Branson.
Anyway, I went to the Dentist on Monday to discover that my Dentist is on maternity leave. So,for the time being, she has been replaced by a Locum. No problem with that at all. He checked my teeth, suggested a course of action that my real Dentist had told me was untenable. Suggested that I might like to have my entire set of bottom teeth pulled out and replaced with plastic teeth (I told him that I would consider his suggestion. I didn't tell him that I would consider it for a very long time.)
Then I was told that I would need two appointments to make all the corrections that need to be made. So I made an appointment for today. I arrived ten minutes early, but I had my iPad with me, so I could read my book on Kindle. I was happy. The Lady sitting next to me was much less sanguine, bouncing up and down in her chair. Anyway, we eased past my appointment time and on for another twenty minutes with no sign of movement from the Dentist's consulting room door. It opened twenty minutes after my appointment time to let the patient out. But it wasn't my turn! It was indeed the turn of the bouncing lady sitting next to me. Ah well, another chapter, soon be my turn.
By now we were entering the lunch hour and the waiting room emptied bit by bit. After another twenty minutes had passed, so we are now 40 minutes after my appointment time, there were only three people left in the waiting room. The receptionist addressed one of the ladies who was waiting with me, and said, "Would you like me to see how long he is likely to be?" Interesting, she had to be speaking about my Dentist, because all the Dentists in my practice are female, except the Locum. "No," said the Lady who had been addressed, "I've already waited over an hour, it can't be much longer."
So I asked the receptionist how much over schedule the dentist was running. The receptionist pointed out that there were two patients in front of me, each with twenty minute appointments, and we were already 40 minutes past my appointment time. The patient in the surgery had not yet emerged and she had already been in the surgery for more than twenty minutes of a twenty minute appointment. So it could easily be ....... At that point I suggested that I might let them off my appointment and I would come back for my second appointment next Monday. But you have to be careful, you cannot walk out or they consider that you have missed an appointment, and if you miss appointments you can be removed from the Dentist's list. It isn't easy getting onto an NHS Dentist's list these days! The receptionist thought this was a good idea. She was very sorry, but he had needed to attend to an emergency this morning. (Hmmmmmmm).
The irony is that the walls of the waiting room feature several notices pointing out how many hours of Dentist's time has been wasted in the last month by patients who don't keep their appointments. But not one single notice about the about the patient hours lost by waiting for the dentist!
I am a grumpy old sod, aren't I.
Anyway, I went to the Dentist on Monday to discover that my Dentist is on maternity leave. So,for the time being, she has been replaced by a Locum. No problem with that at all. He checked my teeth, suggested a course of action that my real Dentist had told me was untenable. Suggested that I might like to have my entire set of bottom teeth pulled out and replaced with plastic teeth (I told him that I would consider his suggestion. I didn't tell him that I would consider it for a very long time.)
Then I was told that I would need two appointments to make all the corrections that need to be made. So I made an appointment for today. I arrived ten minutes early, but I had my iPad with me, so I could read my book on Kindle. I was happy. The Lady sitting next to me was much less sanguine, bouncing up and down in her chair. Anyway, we eased past my appointment time and on for another twenty minutes with no sign of movement from the Dentist's consulting room door. It opened twenty minutes after my appointment time to let the patient out. But it wasn't my turn! It was indeed the turn of the bouncing lady sitting next to me. Ah well, another chapter, soon be my turn.
By now we were entering the lunch hour and the waiting room emptied bit by bit. After another twenty minutes had passed, so we are now 40 minutes after my appointment time, there were only three people left in the waiting room. The receptionist addressed one of the ladies who was waiting with me, and said, "Would you like me to see how long he is likely to be?" Interesting, she had to be speaking about my Dentist, because all the Dentists in my practice are female, except the Locum. "No," said the Lady who had been addressed, "I've already waited over an hour, it can't be much longer."
So I asked the receptionist how much over schedule the dentist was running. The receptionist pointed out that there were two patients in front of me, each with twenty minute appointments, and we were already 40 minutes past my appointment time. The patient in the surgery had not yet emerged and she had already been in the surgery for more than twenty minutes of a twenty minute appointment. So it could easily be ....... At that point I suggested that I might let them off my appointment and I would come back for my second appointment next Monday. But you have to be careful, you cannot walk out or they consider that you have missed an appointment, and if you miss appointments you can be removed from the Dentist's list. It isn't easy getting onto an NHS Dentist's list these days! The receptionist thought this was a good idea. She was very sorry, but he had needed to attend to an emergency this morning. (Hmmmmmmm).
The irony is that the walls of the waiting room feature several notices pointing out how many hours of Dentist's time has been wasted in the last month by patients who don't keep their appointments. But not one single notice about the about the patient hours lost by waiting for the dentist!
I am a grumpy old sod, aren't I.
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