tattontastic

Best Christmas and New Year ever?

2012-01-09T13:43:00.000Z

I really did have one of the best ever. And the question is, why? I didn't win the lottery, husband didn't manage to get much time off, I wasn't abroad, I didn't have a car. So why, why, why? A colleague at work hit the nail on the head when he said 'Well, I suppose it depends what they've been like before.' The past ten years or so either I've been seriously ill, a parent has been seriously ill or a close friend has died and/or we've been snowed in.

I've always loved Christmas - or said I did. It's something that stuck in my mind when we met the vicar before we got married. 'You're cultural Christians aren't you?' he said, in his very understanding way that all those preachers have. I nodded enthusiastically thinking of all the things I loved and still love about Christmas, most of which I can tick off this time. Carols in the chapel on Christmas Eve (tick), seeing as many friends and relatives as I want (tick), Christmas music on the radio (tick), giving and receiving of gifts (tick), wonderful food and drink (tick), putting up some decorations (tick), being grateful and thankful of life and one's health (tick).

Apart from myself, friends and family being alive and well, perhaps the biggest reason is that for the first time since 1995 I am truly happy in what I am doing. I am thoroughly enjoying my PhD.

New Year's Resolutions

2011-12-30T15:08:00.000Z

1) Get ill less often
A tricky one this as it is apparently beyond my control. This year I've been struck down with severe pain from endometriosis at least twelve times. On top of that I've had six colds - viral infections. I really want less colds in the next year. Hey ho. Still alive though! Acupuncture is not apparently any assistance - since my last dose of that only about four weeks ago had two colds!

2) Practise meditation with more consistency
I was doing this twice daily at one point - about a year ago - but had problems keeping this up. If I could do yoga again that would be a good start.

3) Carry on with my sock strike
In our house it is my role to be in charge of washing, or, as hubby calls it, laundry. (What is that - a class difference? Regional differences? Is laundry more specific?). I've calculated that sorting socks - of which the man is the main wearer - takes at least ten minutes a week. Time that is better spent in SO many ways. Like writing my PhD for example. Like writing my blog. Like ringing friends and relatives. I started my sock strike today - no sorting for him. Just putting in the drawer. Wonder if he'll even notice? Is a strike a strike if you don't announce it and it makes no perceivable difference?

4) Carry on enjoying the PhD
Shouldn't be too hard this. I'm loving it. Loving the reading, writing, debating. There's nothing about it I don't like - and I get paid and am better off than before I started it!

5) Be a better friend
My main aim is to start remembering friends' children's birthdays (and possibly their wedding anniversaries). Have already started on this crusade as have had longer than usual off for Christmas and put them in my iPhone.

Top ten tips for dealing with Endometriosis

2011-12-19T18:08:00.000Z

1) Pain Relief Medication
If you are in severe pain with endo. then you need to emphasise this to your GP. Paracetamol is actually a very good painkiller - with few side effects, but because of its effect on the kidney you cannot take more than 2 every four hours. This has to be strictly followed - with no more than 8 in 24 hours. Because it's fine with the stomach you can take it on an empty stomach. Your GP has probably prescribed mefenamic acid if it's severe 'period' pain which should only be taken after food - as it irritates the stomach. These two weren't working on their own for my endometriosis pain, so my GP prescribed tramadol, as I understand a member of the 'opiate' family so habit forming, but I take two of these when in severe pain. I went back again after three years of still severe pain and got prescribed 'MST' which is a form of morphine, which they are very reluctant to prescribe as it is addictive, but I find this with the other three manages to just about enable me to go to work for example. I find that even if I am still in discomfort, the nausea and vomitting does lessen with this combination. Every day of pain I write down what time I took the medication and what dose - so I remember what time I can take the next lot (they normally say every four hours).

2) Attend the 'Expert Patient Programme' (or another self management course)
I can't use enough superlatives to describe this course! It is life changing, phenomenol and incredible. It's only a six week course - a morning a week - and the best course you will ever do! I think it should be compulsory for every adult! You learn a huge amount of tips and skills to deal with chronic conditions and their related symptoms - pain, fatigue, nausea, sleep loss, anger and frustration. It's taught by people with chronic conditions themselves who are an inspiration. So inspired was I that I then became a tutor myself and taught a number of courses - very rewarding on so many levels.

3) Emphasise symptoms and issues with your GP
Because this is a condition that is largely invisible we are reliant on ourselves to communicate the pain,misery and suffering this causes. We only get 10 minutes in our appointments so I write down my four or five points or questions and tick them off when I am in there. If you don't get through them all then ring them - discuss on the phone or make another appointment. We are important and we need to be assertive!

4) Look into alternative therapies
Even though they may not help with the problem itself, alternative therapies may help symtoms and lessen side effects of medication. I have found all of the following useful (in order of usefulness): acupuncture, acpressure, meditation, self hynosis, aromatherapy, massage, shiatsu, the Alexander Technique, exercise (when I'm well enough), yoga, relaxation, deep breathing.

5) FAT
Fifteen amazing things - start counting your blessings every day - write them down. Look at them over a month and you will be amazed as how diverse and different they are. And some things you don't appreciate enough. And people. I love writing people thank you cards when they've done something for me. There is the website 3bt - 3 beautiful things - too for inspiration.

6) Write a 'Wellness Recovery Action Plan' a WRAP
This is essentially a list you can give to your loved ones and GP of the things you do for yourself and what they can do for you when you have an 'episode' or bout of bad symptoms. (See 7-10 for ideas). Once written you can put your WRAP in a 'rainy day box'. It can be quite nice working with friends and family with an old shoe box - and getting little things to put in it that we can get out on a 'duvet' day. Again very cheap/worhtless stuff - but sentimental, uplifting and valuable to us. So for me: postcards from friends, flower catalogues, photographs, jewellery, scented things like candles, lip salve, make up, little books 'The little book of calm'. With your WRAP kept in it so everyone knows where to find your list and what to put in the DVD/CD player. There might be music/playlist that you find particularly relaxing or good for pain or a mediation/pain CD you can download. Unfortanately there is no cure for endometriosis and it's going to be with most of us for at least twenty years so we have to find ways of managing it - and not let it dictate to us!

7) Hot water bottle/bath
Warmth on the area can help you feel better, and treating yourself to a bath with scented candles and your favourite bubble bath might help.

8) Free Treats for yourself
There are some things that cost us nothing that we can do for ourselves on a bad day - a hand massage with favourite hand cream, reading a favourite poem or uplifting quotation. Looking at old photos of happy times. Watch your favourite uplifting DVD, TV programme. Spray your favourite perfume on a silky scarf and stroke it. Stroke your pets: Get in the 'Animal Zone'.

9) Sleep or nap
The best healer - if you can

10) Phone friends and relatives

Managing Pain

2011-12-18T13:34:00.000Z

Managing severe pain is unfortunately a feature of my life. It has been for five years. I was listening to Jeremy Vine on Radio Two the other day and he said that he wrote in his diary the difficult stuff - as well as the good news. I thought I won't be publishing this on the web for now, but I have read it again and a couple of other blogs by other people and thought that it could help. Life is not a picnic. Or if it is, it is a picnic where it sometimes snows, rains, hails, mostly dull, a small amount of sun and the occassional blue moon. Today I have taken MST (morphine) at 6.30am, I took paracetamol and mefenamic acid about an hour ago and I've just taken some tramadol. That is a serious amount of pain relief. Yet still I am sitting here in discomfort, reluctant to get dressed, have a shower or do anything at all. You can't concentrate. You can't sleep, you can't do anything. All you can think is that the pain has to go. Without the medication I vomit and it is completely intolerable. At least I can type this now I have taken pain relief. Luckily for me, this pain has been diagnosed. It is endometriosis. Gynocological lesions.I have tried many, many things - in addition to the traditional Western pain relief medication. I've tried acupuncture, aromatherapy, massage, shiatsu, the Alexander Technique, surgery, acupressure, exercise, yoga, meditation, talking about it, Chinese herbal medicine, chewing gum, hypnotherapy, self-hypnosis and hot water bottle. Yet each time it's back to the drugs.And the experts tell me I have to wait until pregnancy, the menopause or a hysterectomy for the pain to go. With pregnancy it will be a temporary relief.Perhaps that's the worse thing: my hormones or 'cycle' is such a mess that this pain is just totally unpredictable. It's happening every two weeks at the moment. Impossible. It is this unpreditability that is most disabling. You can't plan. When I am in pain I just have to put the brakes on, postpone, cancel, hold off, delay. There is not much point in doing anything pleasant as I just can't appreciate it. I'm just thinking 'What time was the last time I took the painkillers?' Then 'Is it too early to take some more now?'. People who haven't experienced chronic pain - even some who have don't seem to understand. I haven't got a broken leg. Blood isn't pouring out of my neck. 'Just do something to take your mind off it' they say. 'You'll feel better once you get to work'. Funnilly enough I feel worse with those two tips.

Plans for retirement

2011-12-16T10:35:00.001Z

When I have finished my PhD - and sorted out dementia - I have some ideas I wouldn't mind writing:

Does Success breed Success? Why we must criticise the status quo

And histories of:

Christmas

Santa Claus

Love

Socialism

Communism

The internet

Women on the internet

Economic growth

Success

Indexing

Money

Laughter

A Sense of Humour

Culture

Multiculturalism

Is this the best cafe in the world? A five star review of Sunshine Bakery, Leeds

2011-07-23T15:38:00.004+01:00

It's the normal story, a friend recommends somewhere by word of mouth, but they've recommended somewhere else before, like something with a good review on Tripadvisor, you do the same, it's absolutely rubbish and then you lose their trust. This had happened with this friend, but I had been to the Sunshine Bakery in Chapel Allerton, Leeds once before to have cupcakes and tea (officially the best in the country), and went away definitely impressed. So, this friend now recommends the same place to me, I hadn't realised they did mains/were like a restaurant, but they are, apparently only open Tuesday to Friday in the evenings and it's bring your own. I want to cut a long story short and say this place is flipping brilliant, but I really must go into detail.

First of all, it's tiny. It only seats around ten people, so Lord alone knows how they manage to make a living, but God willing, they must, because they have to, otherwise there is no hope in the world. Secondly, many men are put off because in a word it's camp. Camp as Christmas. There's real doilies everywhere, there's advertisements for birthing-hypnotherapy, there's advertisement for rollerblading. Everywhere is cupcake glory-tastic. The tea sets are a mish-mash of vintage and gold edged best china which is a real pleasure, served with proper teapots as one would expect in a decent Yorkshire cafe. Except this is no ordinary cafe. No. Service is a little slow, but there is a good excuse for this in that every man, woman and child is entering the place to buy their weekly supplies of pastries, cupcakes, rolls and bread. So we'd booked and were immediately shown to our table, which was the only table for four in there (only three other tables for two). We drank our tea soaking up the atmosphere which was a perfect day for a camp, delectable cafe in the Chelsea of Leeds that is Chapel A. I ordered the soup as a starter - roast carrot cumin and tomato broth. Husband had apple and pork sausage roll. The soup was divine - spicy yet delicate and utterly scrumptious, you could taste how it had been roasted, with the richness delightfully contrasting with the sweet carrot. And the sausage roll. Wow! Pastry unbeatable and again the two contrasting tastes of the sweet apple and slightly salty pork making it a gorgeous sausage roll. And the piccalilli? Well, delicate, home-made and crunchy I thought this too to be one of the best ever, husband thought it needed more mustard, but I'm not a mustard fan in general, it's a bit too overpowering so I thought it was just right.

After this great experience for starters, I persuaded husband after I had started my main to also have a main - the hamhock pie and mash - which he did and polished off. My main was I think the best salad ever. It was advertised as 'Superfood salad with green beans, hummus and couscous' but it had so much more than that. The hummus was amazing, just the right spices and again so delicate with the tastes of the olive oil and chickpeas coming through the mild eastern tang. The ham hock pie was also great, but I think this salad that I ate had star quality. Just so much, so beautifully presented and such an oasis in the desolation that is quality-salads-available-in-Leeds.

Then to finish, as we were so full, we shared a cupcake. Not just any old cupcake. The nation's best. This particular one was a mango, chocolate and doughnut cupcake. A tiny, spherical doughnut on top of the chocolate and mango cream/icing. We tucked in only to discover to our delight that the doughnut had been filled with jam! And no warning. What a treat.

And the bill, for all this including two coffees, came to : Wait for it £19. Yes Nineteen pounds sterling. Unbelievable. The best cafe in the world.

PhD in dementia, ageing and social relationships

2011-07-15T06:19:00.001+01:00

I found out on Saturday I had got funding for a PhD in dementia, ageing and social relationships. Now the hard work begins...

P's barbecue marinade

2011-07-03T08:08:00.003+01:00

2 tablespoons of oil
2 tablespoons sherry
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 garlic cloves
pepper

For heat - add chilli/ginger

For chinese style - add 5 spice

Wellcome exhibition on the history of dirt

2011-06-10T14:17:00.004+01:00

I'm applying for PhD funding. I hadn't missed all the deadlines and discovered more the more I applied. Anyway had an interview on Wednesday at Imperial - didn't get it, but hey-ho there's another interview next week - Yay!

After the interview me and T - an old friend of Mum's who is now a friend of mine too - went to the Wellcome Museum on the Euston Road and went to this great exhibition. Sometimes, and this is one of those times, artistic and historic museum collections leave an imprint on one's mind. This exhibition started in the seventeenth century with the invention of the microscope in Holland. That fact was one of my few criticisms of the exhibition actually - the fact that it started as late as the seventeenth century. Why not with the Egyptians? Or the Greeks? Or the Romans? Or the Old Testament? They did have a quote which mentioned the word clean from the Old Testament but nothing on the etymology of the words 'clean' or 'dirty', that must surely be very old words indeed!

Then it turned out that T had worked at one of the exhibits - The Pioneer Health Centre in Peckham. We watched this amazing half hour promotional film of the Centre from the British Film Library I think. People smoking in doctor's surgeries. Women being told they needed major operations in front of ten other people. People being watched, surveyed without their knowledge! It was incredible from the point of view of how health research has changed (for the better) but terrible from the point of view of how health resources have diminished - the amazing place (with two swimming pools) was sold off for flats in 1990. T worked in it just before then when it was an educational establishment.

Then there was the original map of how John Snow discovered the source of a cholera outbreak in 1854 - which was amazing to see!

There was other great stuff too - a copy of the Indian constitution from the 1950s - which tried to stop discrimination against the 'unclean' lowest Hindu caste. And some bricks made of human faeces and another film about the difficulties women have using and finding public toilets in India. And at the end of an exhibition a photographic exhibition of a landfill site in New York which is being converted into a national park.

Great stuff dirt!

Chapel Allerton Lawn and Tennis Club

2010-02-24T14:46:00.002Z

It's been a very busy three months as I've been chief (or perhaps deputy) nurse to Mum who hasn't been well, but she's on the road to recovery so that's all good. After a gruelling day in London yesterday (trying to earn cash) I treated myself to a delicious and reasonably priced lunch today. Anyone who joins gyms to try their food (a strange sect of which I am a member) should really join this place to taste 'Racquet Bistro''s food. Apparently they are about to open their doors to non-members so if you can hang on a month you won't even have to join the gym. I decided to join the gym as a 'social member' for sixty quid after tasting the wonderful food at this place about eighteen months ago. That meant I could also join the even more bizarre cult of 'Chapel Allerton Running Club'. I haven't been for about a year, as I've been in training to get good enough to keep up with them all. But, I sauntered in this lunchtime and ordered from the Bistro's extensive - admittedly meat orientated- menu: salmon, hollaindaise sauce and salad. For seven pounds it was a large fillet of salmon, immaculately cooked (difficult of course with fish) with a very tasty sauce and a fresh, crispy, inspiring salad and a few boiled new potatoes. Perfect lunchtime, gastro-pub grub. I have had their meat dishes before too, and their meat is exceptional as Bernard (the owner) is a full time butcher. Julie (Bernard's partner) who I had a lovely chat with today is a marvellous hostess, as well as an excellent chef, and this place really is a gem in the heart of Chapel Allerton. I think the best food in Chapel A (for the price).

Crescent moon and bright star

2009-11-23T18:16:00.002Z

On the evening of our wedding day we had a lovely unexpected surprise - a bright star visible next to the crescent moon and again, today, when I have other good news the same has happened. It looks beautiful and we are lucky enough to have some clear sky to see it. Today I found out I had got a distinction overall for my MA! I am very pleased and now intend to do a PhD looking into the history of the care of older people with dementia.

Salvos

2009-11-21T08:11:00.004Z

This blog has really turned into a food blog. I'm quite happy about that, but may have to find a more professional outlet for my other stuff so the big wigs don't have to demean themselves by going to a website that is called what this one is. I need to find a cheap way of people being able to access my MA dissertation and publishing it (with a password) on the web seems like a good start. Over the next couple of weeks I will have to try and do this and get the contributors to check it.

We went to Salvos last night and suffice to say we weren't disappointed, 4/5. Mine was slightly overseasoned, but it is nice they've had recognition from Gordon Ramsey.

All Hallows' Eve dinner party

2009-10-31T07:46:00.003Z

Last night my incredible husband cooked another feast for five guests including us. The only thing we didn't prepare ourselves were the sundried tomatoes. It was marvellous, the menu was:

Amuse bouche - crostinis prepared by moi (mackerel pate, sundried tomatoes and artichoke)

Starter

Pumpkin ravioli with witches' sage butter

Main course

Pot roasted pheasant flavoured with orange on a bed of brussel sprouts and bacon served with chesnut duchess potatoes

Dessert

Pear and blackberry crumble with hazelnut icecream

There were things that went really well. Lovely guests as always. Conversation was a bit worky-work orientated but c'est la vie. The halloween theme worked wonderfully with hubby preparing a family of hollowed out pumpkins for the occasion. The wine was delectable, we have rediscovered Mersault, beautiful. The halloween theme spread to the menu with the pumpkin ravioli which worked very well, a very interesting set of tastes, the sweetness of the pumpkin set off well against the savoury sage butter. The main course was a great recipe from one of our fave recipe books - Off Duty - by chefs; apparently what they cook when they're 'off duty'. The pheasant was good with a delicious jus. We could have got a potato bag to squeeze the duchesses out of, but had to make do with an icing sugar one. The Hazelnut Icecream was declared the star of the evening with husband announcing that this was the best thing he had ever made, and I had to concur. We finished with Betty's coffee and some Yorkshire cheeses from Booths'. A great evening.

Maggie's autumnal pear tort

2009-10-24T17:27:00.002+01:00

This is a great recipe if you have a pear tree or happen to have a load of cheap pears. Firstly make the shortcrust pastry : 200g of flour, 100g of lard or butter and 1 beaten egg. You put the flour in the food processor, whizzing the fat into the flour. Gradually add the beaten egg and make sure it isn't too wet! Make it into a dough ball and wrap in cling film and put in the fridge to chill for half an hour. Meanwhile peel 12 pears, and quarter, taking out the seeds. Melt a knob of butter in a frying pan and gently fry the pears for five minutes. Add brown sugar, a little bit of lemon juice and cinnamon. Put in a seven or eight inch sandwich tin (a tin for sponge cakes with plenty of butter (about 2 ounces each tin). Cut the pastry in half, roll out into a circle the size of the tin. Put the pears in the tin with the pastry on top at about 190 degrees C. Will be ready after 15-20 minutes (keep an eye on it).

Mackerel salad

2009-10-24T14:46:00.002+01:00

I have discovered a brilliant new salad inspired by Connie and also the Three Crowns in Stoke Newington. It is mackerel, warmed up in the oven for about seven minutes. Served on a bed of salad leaves: ideally watercress, coriander and spinach leaves amongst them. Sprinkled with walnuts, grated apple and beetroot to the side. Garnished with lemon wedges which you then squeeze on the mackerel. Perfect. For more wintry days you can add some carbs, like I did today - a jacket potato with cottage cheese.

Sous Le Nez in Leeds: Our New Favourite Restaurant

2009-10-23T05:07:00.006+01:00

On my desk there is a globe which I gaze at often to get a sense of perspective if something isn't going right. I also have a photograph of the earth in space which does the same. This restaurant and other good ones in the world give me the same feeling. You are soaking up time on the earth, because when it is this good you want it to last. This amazing restaurant brings happy memories of our lovely Honeymoon, back in time, in the Loire Valley. So we had a lengthy debate invovling Wikipedia about what to have as an aperitif. Husband doesn't like them as much as me, in the end we both had champagne. Apologies to all our friends and relatives with substance abuse issues - there's quite a number - but at this restaurant you can fully understand why this occurs. In a sentence: The wine is divine. We celebrated the completion of my MA in this place and thank God we did. It was so good I could hardly remember it, so we just had to go back three weeks later, where I ordered exactly the same starter (absolutely unheard of) and gave it a second run for reviewing purposes. It was the most delicious scallops dish I have ever had, perfectly cooked with the a gorgeous two sauce combination of mushrooms and leeks. I followed this up with monk fish and tomatoes, again a classic. Husband had crab followed by halibut. The real reason for coming to this restaurant though - let's be honest the service is refreshingly French - is for the liquid accompaniment. Jean Denis the sommelier must be the best in the country, or one of the best. Have I said the wine was divine? The aroma was crushed thyme with lemon and apple. The taste was so interesting, slivers of silvery liquid gold. JD decanted it for us and we made every last drop last. For dessert I had roasted figs with mascapponne ; husband had cheese and biscuits. Heaven. On Earth.

Food for the brain...

2009-10-20T18:51:00.002+01:00

A friend recommended a website which helps people manage their mental health through nutrition. Good advice. It's the whole nature - nurture argument, that whatever we are blessed with from our parents, we can build on through looking after ourselves well. I've had a lot of nurturing food just recently and I intend to write all the recipes up on this blog soon: Dad's lentil hot pot, Mum's spag bol, Mary's chicken soup, Doreen's cottage pie, Maggie's butter bean and sausage goulash, Maggie's pear tort, Cookie's three mustard pork strogganoff. My own chicken and stilton strog. Yum. The running is going well too, I've been out six out of seven days last week!

MA handed in

2009-10-11T08:50:00.002+01:00

Life is about good and bad, life and death, sickness and health. We have had a bit of bad news, but also some good news. For those reading this who know me well, do give me a ring on my mobile if you want to find out the bad news. For everyone else, this blog is supposed to be an uplifting account of what I've been up to. Firstly I have handed in the MA. That is definitely good news. We have celebrated with some wonderful meals out in Great Britain and the Republic of Ireland: Le Souz de Nez in Leeds (9/10), Bentley's Oyster Bar in Dublin (9/10), The Winding Stair in Dublin (9/10) and Eden in Dublin (9.2/10). We have bought a new car - four wheel drive for hubby's snow driving this winter. Before anyone collapses with shock - it's a green estate audi (again). We can drive to see all our friends and family now, so expect a call soon if you know us. I have been running - four times on the trot this week, a record for me. Very chuffed with that.

Writing tips

2009-08-17T13:45:00.002+01:00

Freewrite - you will feel better

index cards

acupressure

write targets for the calendar

write achievements of the day, month, year, MA - stick it up

write in different coloured pens

use fancy highlighters

do some filing

reading

skim reading

read your own material

**how to write books**

Elbow how to write book

reading lists, bibliography

a decent word, a decent sentence, a decent paragraph

write lists, tidy space, tidy files, tidy room

incense, aromatherapy

an exciting and original new line

things from every angle in a wide context

Antedating the Oxford English Dictionary's entry for senile dementia - a copy of the email I sent

2009-08-17T13:38:00.002+01:00

Thank you so much for your incredible help when we spoke on thetelephone earlier. Since we first spoke I have subscribed to the OxfordEnglish Dictionary, which is a marvellous support.As I mentioned to you, I think I have found an earlier reference to the pathological definition of senile dementia to the one in the OED.

The OED states "1851 R DunglisonDict Med Sci (ed 8) Senile Dementia, Insanity of the Aged,"

The reference I have found is James Cowles Prichard Treatise on Insanity(London: Sherwood, Gilbert and Piper 1835)

"Senile dementia or the decay of the mental faculties is not the lot ofold persons universally, though it is a condition to which old age maybe said to have tendency, and to which in the last stage of bodily decaysome approximations are generally to be perceived". p92

If you could acknowledge receipt I would be most grateful.

Sustainable Summer, Fish

2009-07-23T07:21:00.005+01:00

I have twisted my chair so I can glimpse the garden from where I am sitting. To be honest I should have written this garden update a couple of weeks ago. When things were in full bloom. Its glory has gone off the boil. But worth recording for future years. Late June and early July was my garden at its peak. The roses were all out, the bind weed looked deliberate, I harvested plenty of perpetual spinach (a definite recommendation, grown in a pot). The honeysuckle with its beautiful yellow was complimented so well by the lavender on either side. The foxglove and the thistle at the end of the garden looked ok. And there is a delightful yellow shrub, which gets orange berries which then turn brown for winter, with such seasonal interest that it may be my favourite plant of the garden. Even the wisteria flowered, briefly.

There were (dare I say the word? ) the inevitable failures. My sixth acer started to die off. The slugs and birds appear to have eaten even the remnants of courgettes. The potatoes were not worth the hassle: I planted three kitchen bins full of soil (costing about ten pounds) and managed to get twenty pence worth of potatoes. The onions I planted too late and look like old shoe laces. The tomatoes: ditto. However, it is still early days I think.

I went to see an old friend who I hadn't seen for eighteen years at the weekend and it was like no time had passed. Of course things had occured, bad and good, for both of us, but it was so lovely hearing her tinkling laughter and reminding her of what a caring genius she was and still is.

We have been on a low fat diet. A meal last night, from a 1970s Weight-watchers cookery book which I picked up from Oxfam a few years ago, turned out to be a winner. Sustainable cod, bunged in an oven dish with some fried onion and garlic, two peppers, half a pint of skimmed milk, parsley, tomatoes and mushrooms , cooked for 25 minutes sounded dreadfully dull and too easy on paper, but tasted good. It's going on the blog I thought.

Soup

2009-07-04T21:17:00.002+01:00

Today's blog is still five minutes. Soup recipes. Fry an onion for five minutes, add garlic after three. Then depending on what type of soup you want follow these recipes:
1) leek and celery potatoes (add with stock)
2) carrot, coriander, cumin and cardomon seeds (1lb of carrots) with juice of one orange and some zest with green marigold stock)
3) parsnip.

I still have four minutes quick amazing. We have bought a pressure cooker and you literally just add whatever of those three combinations you want for fifteen minutes and a pint and a half of water. Freeze the leftovers. I'm sure there was something else in the parsnip, but can't remember. It's on here somewhere. Anyway we are eating low fat after our high fat Norfolk glamping extravanga. Husband is away, I am busy doing the MA and trying not to buy a Roomba. Labour saving device. And with Lakeland it's a lifetime guarantee. Listened to Alan Carr on Radio 2. Definitely that demographic now. 35-44. Great. Loving it. Still can't twitter or tweet, got some messages that were six months old.

Deer Glade Park

2009-06-23T15:47:00.002+01:00

Dear reader, gladly parking

I have brought the timer with me. It is analogue; it never runs out of batteries. I have finished reading Wuthering Heights. I thoroughly enjoyed it. We are here and I have brought myself to tears, laughing twice. The first was the memory of how I laughed when husband discovered the "Ebay" box. This is a box, in a cupboard, of things we could sell on the famous internet auction site. I had put in it an old camping knife, with plaster and paint, old and dried, on it. It must be worth, on the open market, in good conditions, I would say ten pence. Ten new pence.

A similar thing happened today. Husband complained that there wasn't enough room in the camping fridge (powered by the sun - through a solar panel that husband loves more than most of our relations). The fridge was full of a box of wine. I suggested that we decant the wine into little wine bottles I had brought. And then fill the fridge with the carrots I had brought. Husband made me laugh. He said, " Yep, just what I fancy, a freezing cold carrot". We laughed. And the sun shone.

Wedding anniversary

2009-05-25T12:14:00.005+01:00

Shortly before we married, in fact, probably a few days after we met, husband and I realised that we shared few similar(cheap) pastimes. More recently we discovered, quite by accident, that we both moderately enjoy costume dramas. In fact, it may be the only TV and cinema that we both can watch at all. Perhaps because of my studying I have come round to things like Pride and Prejudice. I used to think it was middle-class clap-trap. Now I realise I am middle-class. And the car got clamped. Anyway, a few people got us this sort of thing on DVD for Christmas and we've just got round to watching them all, as he's had a bit of time off work. We really loved the BBC adaptation of Bleak House. Jane Eyre. North and South. Little Dorrit. The Duchess. Husband loves watching them, one after another, like some deranged drug addict craving the next fix. I prefer a middle-class feminine break with one's fan or smelling the latest thing from one's garden.

Glog - nothing flowering at this time of year. Note to self - must get stuff that flowers in May. Esp. Clematis Montana. Planted onions day before yesterday. Courgettes prob not suitable for Leeds - too cold. Two got eaten by magpies or woodpidgeons anyway. Bought a couple of replacements from Hollinsclough flower festival. Weeding bindweed, especially at front and got quote from Which Local for tree surgeon for sycamore - 450 bazookas.

We have spent our free time visiting friends and family. Or in my case running. In husband's case spending twenty quid every 2 minutes on replacement blades for his remote control helicopter, which they keep on telling him at Maplins is the best one in the world. Not really surprising as whatever it is, he's definitely keeping them in business.

Had a lovely anniversary time with our favourite Tory friends in the South. Agreed with them on a couple of things - my memory deserts me on specifically what we agreed on, but it was pleasant nonetheless. I am going to aim for consensus everywhere, particularly on this blog, so I am employing self-censorship. Watch this space.

Had a wonderful drive a week ago in the sunshine. Huddersfield to Leek via Hollinsclough has to be up there for the best 2 hour drive in the country.

Thoroughly enjoying Elizabeth Gaskell's biography of Charlotte Bronte. She really is the most under-rated writer of the nineteenth century. Mum told me I had to find the evidence for this and back it up. I agreed, especially since waiving my anonymity on this blog recently. Anyway haven't bothered to do this, but it is my uninformed opinion. She is brilliant. Some little snippets - she mentions football as a late eighteenth century activity, with commoners kicking stone balls round the moors. First mention I've ever come across. 'Make it out' - was a phrase they used for 'make it up' , ie creativity. Interesting slight change of language. Anyway off to attempt to persuade husband to let me get a Roomba for the tenth time (robot hoover).

Chapel Allerton, Gipton Wood, Howarth and Mirfield

2009-05-17T22:45:00.002+01:00

Had a very busy day today. Listening to a radio four programme about location has made me think: people; time; place. Was out leafleting with Hope not Hate in Gipton Wood. Turns out the main organiser lives on my road so he was roping me in for more stuff to do. Then zoomed over to Howarth where Mum has rented an apartment for a week with a friend. After terrible traffic issues would you believe, we found a pub still open at 1.30 (Grim up North) and got ourselves a pub lunch. Then after a series of complicated travelling arrangements got into the centre of Howarth to torrential rain, when there was a 1940s weekend going on. Highly anachronistic.

We went into the old parsonage where the Brontes' lives are celebrated. I actually found it quite inspirational. It doesn't feel that long ago suddenly where you see the very sofa that Emily Bronte died on. It still looks brand new. I was born one hundred and thirty seven years later. To the very day. And you're walking around, creaking the floor boards as they must have done, casting your eye over the slated roof of the scullery as you're walking down the stairs, pausing to catch the time on the grandfather clock. Tick-tock, time passing by.

I hadn't realised but our alleged distant relative - Miss Margaret Wooler from Mirfield (our family were the mill owning Woolers from Mirfield - surely related?) gave Charlotte Bronte away at her wedding. Her father of course, officiated. Charlotte Bronte briefly experienced success as Jane Eyre was an instant hit, so it did feel good to see her treasured possessions: her beautiful wedding dress, bonnet and white leather gloves. And the tiny delicate handwriting as she writes to her book reviewers complaining of their ignorance. Charlotte Bronte's husband died in 1906, so her generation is only our great-great grandparents'.

A few degrees of separation in people, time and place.

The Tattontastic self-help book

2009-05-15T13:30:00.005+01:00

My friend Jemima has been writing a book, that I think is going to be published soon. It's one of my dreams too. Before I met my husband I was the queen of self-help, via bibliotheraphy mainly. But also the Expert Patient Programme, which was a course that I loved. I think I would have about eleven chapters for my self-help book:

1) Prioritise - what's important for you right now?

2) What makes you tick?

3) Making incremental changes, tips for good relationships

4) Know yourself - monitor your health

5) Get all the support you need to change your life in the way you want it to go

6) Managing stress

7) Dealing with bad news

8) Symptom management

9) Financial management & complaining well

10) Careers advice

11) Dying well

The Fleece, Addingham, Yorkshire

2009-04-23T17:28:00.003+01:00

Yesterday was a glorious spring day and husband, very unusually, had a day off. Even more unusually, we decided to beat the credit crunch and go on a walk. It was meticulously planned by husband - with the purchase of a Yorkshire dales walking book, an ordnance survey map and a special pen that you can use to write on the map. He spent a good half hour plotting the route from the book on to the map. We set off and it was a marvellous walk - taking in: not only beautiful scenery, but industrial archeology, special buildings (like the seventeenth century friends meeting house), wonderful disused railway bridges, woodland with just flowering bluebells & columbines and the river Wharfe. The walk took us about three hours.

So our expectations of the pub where we had parked and set off from were pretty low. What a welcome mistake though! The Fleece is an old, eighteenth century coaching inn with benches and hanging baskets at the front. Inside, wooden panelled walls with low ceilings, a bar and a larger room for dining. We knew we had to eat there though as soon as we saw the Michelin Guide signs and whatnot in the window before we'd bought our pints. I had half a Timothy Taylor landlord (nectar) and he had a pint of Copper Dragon (even better). I really loved the pub atmosphere: great artwork, the sheep theme (of course) and lovely mid twentieth century oil portraits of middle aged middle class men - who looked like they might have founded the Ramblers Association. I even loved the chair I sat on - a carver with two tapestry panels. Husband was less impressed with a white radiator against a wooden wall. 'Why couldn't they do what Mum does and get a posh cover?', he moaned. The service: yes, was fast, but we had at least three different people serve us. To start, he had a cassoulet. Haricot beans, chicken wings and choritzo. I had chicken liver pate with a tomato, apricot and ginger chutney. Both were utterly scrumptious. You certainly don't forget you're in Yorkshire though. Huge portions - had to leave some of mine. Since he read Kitchen Confidential husband loves to 'dissect' a menu. 'It's Wednesday today, right,' he whispered 'well, they would have done a lot of roast chicken on Sunday, so plenty of left over chicken wings and chicken livers'. We didn't care. In fact we were pleased that they were not wasting any meat - when it' was so well cooked that would be criminal.
For mains hubby had pork belly, wrapped round black pudding with red cabbage. Lush. I had halibut, queen scallops with white wine sauce topped with spinach and chopped tomatoes. Delectable. Perfectly cooked halibut - so moist. And the black pudding, I think, was the best I have ever tasted. (I'm not normally a fan).
For puddings, he had cheese and biscuits. There were two crumbly local cheeses (we think - the waiting staff couldn't identify them). A most gorgeous rocquefort (we think). And served with fruit cake. Perfect. I had vanilla ice cream. The portion was too big for me and not much vanilla. Coffees were fine.

Dinner for two - sixty five quid!

The Fleece: the place where you don't get fleeced. Great food in lovely surroundings.

Glog, Inheritance Tax and writing an essay

2009-04-19T18:13:00.002+01:00

To everyone who got annoyed with my suggestion that inheritance tax should be 100% for everyone: sorry not got enough time to argue with you all. Anyway. The two courgette seeds I transplanted are looking sorry for themselves. On the sunniest day of the year so far I have been stuck in writing an essay. How does oral history enrich the history of dementia?

Kate Garraway

2009-04-14T11:31:00.002+01:00

I was intrigued to find out precisely what offensive remarks had been put in an email from Damien McBride to Derek Draper. I looked on the internet. I wish I hadn't. Not because they were so offensive towards the Tories, but because of what I considered to be highly offensive remarks from members of the public on websites I will never, ever, ever go to ever again. Tory websites with hundreds of comments from trolls with totally right-wing, misogynist and sexist comments, not to mention offensive photographs, about Derek Draper and Kate Garraway - his partner and mother to his child/ren.

So I meditated and visualised happy things - and looked at them. Like my photos. Then I updated my blog with other stuff which cheered me up a bit. The trolls can stick this left wing blog in their pipe and smoke it. I am happy, left-wing, pretty well with lovely cats, friends and relatives. I am grateful to all the wonderful people in the world who have made my life a pleasure to live. Of course friends and relatives. But Germaine Greer, Gill George. Women from my trade union work - Jennie, Ros and Sharon. Diane Abbott. Plenty of men too of course. Heston Blumenthal. Sir George Martin, Francis Wheen, Ian Hislop, Ken Livingstone and Barack Obama. HOPE not hate. The world survived a fascist attack once before and I think we can beat it again, hopefully through more peaceful means. Through education, empathy, understanding, more education, love and forgiveness of your most detested enemy.

Today's glog

2009-04-11T19:29:00.002+01:00

The garden log for today. I planted the early new potatoes in the three bins Phil bought for recycling which were made redundant by my system of depositing empty bottles in the bottle bank after every run. I didn't make any holes in them but made the drainage space quite big. Then I planted the courgette seeds on the windowsill in the pots which haven't germinated (tomatoes, poppies and some herbs haven't). I tidied up the side of the house a bit and watered the acer, mexican orange blossom and front shrubs with fertilized water. Leeds is at least three weeks colder than London - we still have the heating on. So I won't plant the non-early potatoes for another couple of weeks. Or few days. I also spliced a few dandelions and started thinking why there isn't a dandelion wine recipe on Gardener's World at this time of year - in fact anywhere. They need a wild food programme on telly. Perhaps there is one and I just haven't seen it.

Dear Joan Bakewell...

2009-04-10T16:26:00.002+01:00

I want to write a letter to Joan Bakewell. She's been on the radio a lot in her role as ambassador for older people. Privatised care companies have finally been given the slating they deserve. But she didn't mention that home care workers do not get paid travel time. This needs to be emphasised. The other issue which is going off the boil is the public enquiry over the chaos Hewitt created as Health Secretary from 2005-07. It is no coincidence that the 400 deaths in Staffordshire not to mention preventable deaths in all the other out-in-the-sticks places like Dewsbury and Shrewsbury happened after the 15% cuts she pushed through. And nobody seems to be trying to get now-Lord Crisp (was Sir) to talk about that period. He was Chief Exec of the NHS when her and Tony Blair's reign of terror occured. Apparently Crisp signed a silence clause when he resigned in exchange for becoming His Lordship.
But I haven't written the letter. Will consult with my political guru Gill George.

Been an incredibly hectic week . New job going very well - worked Tues, Wednesday Thursday. MA going OK. Went to Chapel Allerton running club on Wednesday. Somebody said I was much faster than I was. Not sure how true that is as hadn't been for six weeks, but it felt good. Did 10k in an hour again. Still amazing to have knocked half an hour off time. Had a successful dinner party on Sat night, half hour run with A on Sunday morning and then a Leeds art gallery visit (very inspirational 'Mind the Income Gap' exhibtion) & family dinner party on Monday night, followed by 'Brian Clough night'. We watched The Damned United followed by a documentary on the man. Wednesday night (after running) had a medical leaving do. Planted some perpetual spinach which has already come up. Plenty of green shoots in my world.

Dreams from my mother?

2009-03-31T20:39:00.003+01:00

I recommend Barack Obama's Dreams from my father. It is the best political autobiography I will ever read, never mind have ever read. Anyway my mother has just won the Alan Hurst award for outstanding achievement in the Staffordshire Moorlands. Joe and I are very proud of her. It feels like a bit of a turning point actually. Mum was a bit worried about the video they did as part of the process. In our family we tend to be less articulate orally than on paper. None of us are that great at getting job interviews for example. I think it might be because we're too honest. Anyway Mum managed to stick a bit of a political point in at the end of the video apparently. She said something about recognition for some of the most discriminated groups - people with mental health problems. For the past fifteen years or so Mum has been working, voluntarily, back in the Staffordshire Moorlands helping people with mental health problems, the housebound and the rurally impovershed. She's set up Lord knows how many charities, raised goodness knows how much over these years. Finally it's been acknowledged and rewarded. "History Live" is a charity she set up with others in our village which helps record and chart history - they have gone back thousands of years making sure all the Tumulii are in the right places amongst other things. "History Live" was a charity that was set up in memory of our dear friend and neighbour, Helen Rowland, who was Ann's Mum, my village childhood friend in Hollinsclough. Helen died, very prematurely, when we were thirteen. Almost all of us will get some sort of mental health problem - it's bound up with physical health a lot of the time. Helen, Mum and I have all been affected. Mum also set up "Borderland Voices" which has helped people with mental health problems - through creative writing, art, reminiscence and gardening. Unlike Barack Obama, I don't have to have dreams from my mother. She is here, doing all this stuff and it's a reality. Thanks Mum.

Drowning and suffocating in grammar

2009-03-28T21:06:00.004Z

As many of my regular readership will know, (that's a nod to you, mum) I am completing an MA in contemporary British history. The feedback I've received from my tutors has been most instructive: I have to improve on my grammar. It's a long, slow process. I have spent the entire afternoon devouring the latest books on the topic from Chapel Allerton library; to be honest I am not sure it has helped. I will cut a long story short: I am ok on sentences I think (they recommend short ones); I'm fast learning when to use a semi-colon (I plan to use it more, as a long comma); if I use a sentence, such as mum saying this morning, "I will look at your transcript later, darling" it is in the same paragraph. Longer, quoted paragraphs are indented - without speechmarks. The UK system uses double speechmarks, like so, "blah". In the UK you put the punctuation inside the speechmarks, "Anna said her mother, 'Congratulations!'" There is no need to then put another fullstop in after that. I've tended to overuse capital letters for nouns and under-hyphenate. But I am in very good company. The greatest writers all used to do this. Shakespeare's grammar was appalling. And various other greats. They (the grammar-experts) don't like sentences beginning with "and" and "but". Shame. But I disagree. Lynne Truss has undoubtedly cheered me up. I almost went onto facebook and started commenting on people's grammar where they've cocked up. Tomatoes does not have an apostrophe. But then I realised: I have a life. OK, it's a life transcribing interviews and reading the Guardian where they no longer italicise the names of books and journals. Yet, I do have a life. A pretty good one.

Planting seeds indoors

2009-03-27T20:39:00.003Z

As a career break present, my work colleagues bought me twenty five pounds worth of book tokens. I have spent four months deciding which books to purchase. Obviously dementia/history/theory or some brilliant combination of the three would have been good, but quite frankly if it all goes horribly wrong I don't want to be stuck with expensive books which will be impossible to palm off onto friends, relatives or the gullible E-bay public, not to mention the freecyclers. I finalised my collection for the twenty five quid yesterday. A vegetable and herb expert from Dr Hessayon. A FREE vegetable notebook from Dr Hessayon. A BBC Gardeners World 101 tips for vegetable gardening in a small patch. An aromatherapy book and a reflexology book. These books I will probably refer to for the rest of my life. I may well use a dementia history theory book as fuel if it gets too cold in the coming years as I experience old age psychiatry meltdown. Today I was furiously referring to the books. I mistakenly bought some runner bean seeds a month prematurely. I have given some courgette seeds I bought to someone as a present. Anyway one of the great tips in the GW book was to use old toilet rolls as plant pots for pea or bean seeds. I have planted six white sweet pea seeds in those. I have also planted six Leaf Beet (aka Spinach) in yoghurt pots. Other garden and plant news: The no-wind in Leeds situation only lasted one day. It was cold and blustery today; I think the Yew I saved (by planting it) is still alive; I have brought a dying lemon plant back to life, with fertilizer; remarkably the Red plant-which-everyone-gives as-a-gift at Christmas is also still alive. Again fertilizer was the trick. It was too cold to do any gardening outdoors today. I finished transcribing another interview. Very pleased with myself for that. The poppies and tomatoes which I planted indoors about a month ago still don't appear to have germinated. The nasturtiums, sweet peas and purple basil are rampant. Worried about the carrots. They are alive, but my new books advise me that they are too close together. I will have to 'thin some out'. IE kill some. It feels so cruel and wasteful. I keep on promising myself to religiously learn the plant names. Indoor and out.

Glog

2009-03-20T18:11:00.002Z

I have decided that one of the most useful things my blog can be is a garden log. A glog. Today was a beautiful sunny day in Leeds - with no wind whatsoever which is tres, tres, tres unusual. I planted the shrubs that my neighbours gave me (in exchange for slabs). I planted a conifer that Joe the bro gave me a few Christmases ago at the front. I repotted the acer (not very well and hastily). I moved the flowering pots of bulbs closer to the house and turned them around so I could see them - minature daffodils, some small blue bulbous plants and a primose which is in a pot which Mr P gave me with his mosaics on. I also potted some of the plants that Mum gave me which were surplus to requirements in the Hollinsclough jungle. I vowed again to start learning the names of all my plants. This is a long job. I moved my 'fruits of the forest' to in-front of the living room window. In May it flowers. I spent about five hours stabbing, knifing and generally being very unpleasant to dandelions. They germinate in between the concrete at the front. Eastertime they flower so I've made sure this year they hopefully won't. I also planted the two trees which I have already forgotten the names of which I bought for eighty pence in Leek on Saturday. One was a rose which isn't a rose and the other is a Rowan of some sort. I also planted some fairy-like plants whose name escape me for a second. They're in the flower fairies book. They're small with flowers like little dragon-heads. Anyway they are also in the front bed ready for their summer flowering. I raked up virtually the last of the leaves. I now have about twenty bags of leaf and dead-dandelion mulch-mould in black bags underneath the sycamore. A good day's work. Justified because Phil was fixing the new internet provider up. Sorted.

Fruition

2009-03-13T14:40:00.003Z

I am thoroughly enjoying transcribing (typing up) the half dozen or so oral history interviews I've completed so far in my history of dementia. The work is a great distraction from watching or listening to any news. I have banned myself from listening to the Today programme or watching the Daily Politics. With the MA, all I have to do is take the raw material and write an easy to read, accessible, well structured, planned and argued document or two. But even if I fail this latter task at least the raw material exists so that Mr Nibberty Nob-McNobabet who comes along in the year 2076, when this recession may well be over and his levels of calm (having understood recent economic insanity) are much lower, can quote from the stuff I've gathered to refute and challenge whatever I write in the next few months. I am actually trying to get the interviews in the British Library Sound Archive, although a bit of quantative easing from the Bank of Catland seems more likely. In fact introducing cat biscuits as the new currency might help with the feline obesity epidemic in our household.

A few of the other irons in the fire are coming home to roost as it were, although until the horse is well within the enclosure, with the stable door firmly closed, I won't be counting those chickens just yet.

Sebbie's Mum's pre and post- Mothering Sunday recipes: The necessity of nurturing

2009-03-09T14:34:00.002Z

Had a lovely weekend cruising around offloading myself on to various friends and relatives. It made me realise the importance of nurturing people and the relationships you have with them. I am going to try and carry on putting recipes on my blog. Connie's Inauguration Salmon and Election Parsnip Soup were great successes - filed in chronological order according to a memorable date means that I can find them easily - and have been doing so. One of the other great cooks in my life gave me these recipes. Hopefully she will get a more upmarket meal a week on Sunday for the day in question!

chicken and tarragon pie

15 mins "doing", then about 45 mins in the oven

2 chicken breasts

an onion (diced)

a clove or two of garlic (chopped)

2 handfuls of mushrooms (sliced)

a pot of crème fraiche (low fat is fine)

a chicken stock cube

a good healthy shake of dried tarragon (maybe a tablespoon?)

frozen pastry (I prefer puff, but shortcurst would probably do)

chop chicken into chunks and fry in a little oil over medium heat. When nearly cooked through (about 5 mins), add onions. Once onions have softened (about 2 mins) add garlic and mushrooms and turn to low heat (add more oil if pan looks very dry or anything is sticking). After about 5 more minutes sprinkle over stock cube and fry for 30 seconds then add the crème fraiche. Cook, stirring, over low heat for a couple of minutes and then add tarragon. Cook for about another 5 mins to make sure flavours all mix. taste and add salt and pepper if you want (once you are happy with the recipe you can experiment by adding a class of white wine).

Pour into a ceramic dish (like you do a lasagne in). Roll out the pastry and lay it over the top. You can brush it with egg or milk if you want.

Put in oven at about 180 for about 40 mins, or until the pastry has browned (and risen if puff).

I tend to serve with green beans or peas or broccoli, and sometimes boiled pots though they're not really necessary with the pastry.

TOAD IN THE HOLE

2 eggs

2 heaped tablespoons plain flour

cooking oil

about half a pint of milk

mixed herbs (herbes de provence or other mixed green herbs)

sausages

an onion

red wine vinegar

a glass red wine

a couple of spoons of brown sugar

a healthy splash of balsamic vinegar

about 5 minutes "doing time", half an hour "resting" then up to around 40 minutes cooking

Put the flour into a big plastic bowl. Break in the eggs and mix in with a whisk. It should make a big thick guey clump (if it is too runny, add a little bit more flour). Gradually add milk little by little, mixing furiously as you do. The mixture should gradually become more liquid (if you get lumps, just stop adding milk for a moment and beat harder). Keep adding milk until it's about the consistency of double cream. Add a tiny drop of cooking oil and some salt and pepper and mixed herbs. Set aside for about half an hour

When you set the batter aside, make the onion marmalade. Thinly slice the onions and put in a pan with a knob of butter and some olive oil, over a low heat. The onions will slowly sweat down (but shouldn't really colour - if they start to sizzle or go brown the heat is too high). After about five minutes, they should have reduced in size and gone all floppy. Pour in about a glass each of red wine vinegar and red wine, and a quick slosh of balsamic.

At this stage, put the sausages into a casserole pan or clean baking tray in the oven at about 180-200 to brown.

Let the marmalade slowly simmer away, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes.

Once they're browned (maybe 10-15 minutes), pour in the batter mix and stick straight back in the oven. Set a timer for 20 minutes.

When the marmalade has been going for about 20 minutes, add a couple of desert spoons of brown sugar, stir through and leave to carry on slowing bubbling away. If it starts to look dry, add another splash of either wine or vinegar and taste to see if you need more sugar.

When the timer goes off, have a quick peak at the toad in the hole to see if it's done. When cooked, it should be risen and brown. Try to just look really quickly and not leave the door open too long as if it's not quite done it can collapse if it's in a draft.

I often just serve the toad in the hole with a big dollop of the marmalade on the top, we will have 3 sausages each (Richie will sometimes have 4!). If you want to be healthier it would be nice with pretty much any boiled veg. Sweetcorn is very quick - you could just pop a can of sweetcorn in a glass bowl, pour over boiling water, cover with clingfilm or a glass plate and microwave for 2 minutes. You can do much the same with frozen peas.

Nostalgia

2009-03-08T08:38:00.003Z

I've been thinking a lot about nostalgia recently. Studying dementia and its various non-drug treatments one starts to meditate on the issue. People respond to happy memories and associations, the more they involve all our senses - like touch, taste and smell the more likely (if it's a happy memory) they will respond. But we've been taught on our course to be very wary of nostalgia. Harping back to the good old days. It can make you forget the hardships people had to endure.

On the other hand, if a old farmer now seriously ill can get some comfort from playing with some hay, if an older woman gets a lot from her strawberry jam breakfast, what on earth can possibly be wrong with that?

I want to set up a museum of nostalgia - so the pleasant smells, tastes, colours of memories that people associate with the happy memories of their childhood can be experienced again. Sentimentality isn't a bad thing, as long as we're not sentimentalising about fascists. In fact in my filing system it's a category.

Lunching at the British Library

2009-03-04T12:50:00.003Z

I'm starting to wonder if the economic news can actually get any worse. Short of

Study Skills

knowing yourself. Treating symptoms, minor ailments, adjusting action plans. sickness.

Pain management. Nausea.

aromatherapy, acupressure
meditation, running. make bread (lick the spoon of manuka honey)
cups of tea - sugar. Lunch with salad and no potato.

Tidy up.

Acupressure: wrist, forehead, stomach and knee

Aromatherapy: frankinscence, clary sage, rosemary

Exercise - running, yoga. Shoulder stands

Commas - do not use. Hyphens; over used. apostrophies - learn the correct way. Speech marks. Got to learn the UK way. Full stops. Yes please. More sir.

Sentences. short.

Give yourself an achievable task each day.

A list of words. Words, sentences, paragraphs.

Harvey Nicks - too good for chimps

2009-02-21T18:41:00.005Z

The past few days I've been my normal pretty depressed self. People used to ask me what my politics were and I used to say 'Champagne anarcho-socialist'. These days it's just prosecco. It's not a happy time for most. I've even managed to feel sorry for the poor blighters at the Sun, hearing that News International are laying off 60 journalists. In fact, I almost bought the paper, after picking it up whilst I was having my obligatory city-centre-shopping-tea-break at Pret. I came across this article. Some woman kept a chimp as a pet which then bit her friend's eyes out. She loved the chimp. It was quite a tragic story. But the quote kept me laughing for hours. "Until you’ve eaten with a chimp and bathed with a chimp, you don’t know a chimp.” The Sun and its journalists are obviously trying to cheer everyone up with their stories. This time it worked. Or is it the blitz spirit? Under normal circumstances I would hate News International and their journalists, but hearing that they're all going on the dole brings out a sympathy laugh for their 'human' (or in this case chimp) interest stories that our journalist 'professors' used to harp on about.

Whilst I was pondering capitalism's imminent demise I decided to give what will probably be the last bastions of this economic creed a run for their money. A soup-run for *my* money in fact. Yes, I went to Harvey Nick's for my lunch. There's something so unsettling about carrying massive bags with a tray around Pret, nice as the tea and wonderful salad is. You feel like the underclass. Shuffling along, banging into people, wondering if you've just poked someone's eye out with your latest Poundland bargain. The seats are just too close together and you need ten arms. There's no excuse NOT to go to proper lunch in Leeds on a Saturday. So I left the Sun behind, after the using the (frankly rather pathetic) facilities at Pret. Don't get me wrong. I love Pret. It's the only chain I do love. But, it's only two minutes from a Leeds icon.

I toddled off to Harvey Nicks. I paid the huge £7.26 for my lunch at Harvey Nicks (including service). But what do you get for your money? Well, for the extra £2 than you would probably pay at a similar cafe, you get a long list of extras. *Proper* pepper in a mill. Salt in a mill. Single expresso - which comes with an optional glass of tap water. You get what used to be called 'silver service'. With my roast tomoato soup with croutons and creme fraiche I was given a choice of three breads. The manager is a very friendly and knowledgeable man, dressed immaculately in a pin-stripe suit with this incredible posture that makes me think he does yoga. And this is the crucial difference. Not only are there no chimps, nor even newspapers hanging around with stories of chimps. There is impeccable, personal and personnable service. They glide over to you, and glide you to your seat. Every wish is their command. The staff are attentive, experienced, knowledgeable and the service is seamless. And then there's the views. You might think, what's the centre of Leeds to look at? Well, the Harvey Nick's cafe is in the Victoria quarter where all the very expensive shops were done up recently. So the architecture is very smart if you like that sort of thing. What I love are the coloured glass windows on the roof. All different colours in modern designs, just beautiful for non-economic, peaceful and optimistic contemplation. And so, I leave my lunchtime date with myself, not only feeling sated, but not feeling too impoverished or ripped off. Comrades, when we do take over the world can we keep quality food establishments like Harvey Nichols?

Mum's Gammon

2009-02-18T21:11:00.002Z

1) Buy a Gammon cut of pork
2) Soak overnight if poss, if not for a good few hours
2.5) Roast potatoes in goose fat
3) Boil Gammon for 45 mins
4) Drain and then get a knife, score the fat and insert cloves and rub in brown sugar
5) Roast at Gas Mark 7
6) put the parsnips in after 20 minutes
7) Serve with warmed up pineapple

Hi-fi Club, Leeds Monday February 16th - Five Star Review

2009-02-17T12:55:00.004Z

I'll cut to the chase. This review is totally biassed. My brother is Joe Tatton, someone whose modesty precludes him from blowing his own trumpet (he used to play the cornet in Hollinsclough Siliver Band). Needless to say I think he's one of the most talented musicians I will ever meet. I've known him since he was born and for purely unselfish reasons would sorely like to see his music career take off, big time. He does just about manage to make a living from being a full-time musician, but I have got nice images of relaxation in an in-door pool somewhere in Scarborough paid for from the proceeds of some Number One or whatever you call commercially successful music these days. It is frustrating when you see people who are less talented, less experienced and not as nice rake in the cash. Anyway, Joe's latest jaunt is off with his girlfriend into popular soul paradise. They've got a new album and a new band Rodina so-named after the Russian word for mother-land, already with their eye on the Eastern market. They are doing very well indeed in Turkey. They are doing pretty well here.

Firstly the band. I love Aoife, almost as much as Joe. Twenty-something mega-babe fronting the band, singing in a sweet, hypnotic and entrancing style that celebrates her celtic roots. Jonny is on rthym guitar and he plays in an acoustic styly and Danny on a beat-box. Joe the bro is on keyboard and sorts out the bass with some magnificent piano solos. Aoife does her own styling and I think she's a trendsetter for us cutesey individualists. Colourful, playful and mesmerising.

What I really like is that the foursome stand in a row on stage, all equal, all enjoying themselves. Seasoned performers, musicians and artists of the highest calibre. There is a jovial camaraderie amongst the band, everyone self-deprecating and joking around and I think this relaxed openmindedness stands out amongst other bands. It's uplifting to experience.

Rodina opened the night at about 8.30, first act on, which they were pleased with because everyone goes home later on. At one point I was in charge of the CDs and gave one to someone who said he was manager of Nightmares on Wax. He was a nice guy. I was also in charge of the flyers and started handing them out. What I found was most effective was getting into a dialogue with people about the band. I would say 'They're a mixture of Jools Holland, Corrine Bailey Rae and the Buena Vista Social Club'. People would get curious and start reading the flyer.

Finally Rodina's music. They always start with 'Always had a Dream'. With an extremely catchy line 'You don't believe, you don't believe'. Singing it all day after the gig. My favourite is 'You Cry I Cry'. It's perhaps one of the their darkest songs. I love the change of tempo. Brilliant all round.

The second band I didn't like I'm afraid. It can only be described as 'posh folk'. That's the music and the people attending. They were called 'Feldspar' and me and Dave the Rave had a little competition just before they came on about what sort of genre they were. He said Pink Floyd. I based my guess on the clothes they were wearing (beige slacks, v neck jumpers and ironed cotton shirts). I was right. Posh Folk. They had their mothers with them, which I don't object to under normal circumstances. But whilst MY family were playing these posh folk were making an absolute racket 'Oh darrrling..' as they all turned up, throwing their arms round each other, right in front of the stage. And yet when they started they told the crowd to Shush. Just not the done thing sweeties.

Now the third band I adored. Sal Paradise. These guys are going places. They haven't given me any money, I'm not at all related to them and I don't know their first names, but by God I think they're good. I had a good feeling about them because they were tapping their feet to Rodina , so I knew they had taste. I would have preferred it if one of them was a girl, but you can't have everything in one band. These guys were like the grandsons of Men at Work, UB40 and the Beach Boys, and the sons of Supergrass. It was reggae-rock. They were a tight outfit, but I don't know whether this was because I had my eye on the drummer all the time. I must admit you get to a certain age and suddenly drummers seem young, muscular and attractive. Is too much oestrogen a good thing I was wondering as I was watching the young women huddling round at the front trying to get a glimpse of more muscle and leg. But the eye candy didn't put me off too much and I thought their songs were great, tuneful, powerful numbers, perfect for the summer.

The fourth band- Meryl Jane. Well by this point husband had arrived. He liked them. He likes Razorlight. I just didn't find the tunes that catchy.

And the fifth band - The tales, the tales. I didn't give this lot justice and plan to return to their April gig. What was quite funny was that at the start of the night I said to one of them when giving them a Rodina flyer 'What sort of music are you?' And he said 'Amazing'. Having listened to them on myspace for awhile I think they need to concentrate on playing at the same speed.

Roma

2009-02-15T10:26:00.004Z

Our ten day holiday started with brother-in-law's B day. I spent a lot of the time at the restaurant trying to convert his mate into more of a lefty. We went to Belgo's in Covent Garden. Pretty poor service. OK food.
They loved their Christmas/B day presents. We had a good laugh.

My MA is chugging along. I might have decided it is too difficult. There is no agreement anywhere on anything. Least of all me with anyone else.

Then of course we went to Rome! A holiday I've been looking forward to for a long time - one of my favourite cities as for someone with a historical bent there is *so* much to see and do. It was a surprise for mum-in-law. We met up with cousin-in-law at the airport which was fun.
We got a lift with a maniac Italian taxi driver. After my hit and run experience I was terrified . I left my black gloves behind.

Arrived and C span hubbie round, it was lovely. That was the last surprise.

There were ten of us altogether - C and T (2 sisters) and their children and wives/husbands. Pizza place for the bday night itself. marvellous, incredible ravioli for me. The following night P & C (brother and sister in law) had discovered Rome's only vegetarian-ish restaurant - half the party were veggies. Amazing food again. Wonderful pasta - home baked by Nonna in the background who kept on waving at us. Tiramisu - had to have it daily of course. Artichoke ravioli followed by Sea bass. Immaculately cooked so delicate, simple and subtle. Yet so tasty. Don't know how they do it. And we kept on saying this about every cup of coffee too. So much so that for hubbie's valentine this year he got an Italian on-stove coffee maker. We had a cheaper one in London for a few years but it broke a couple of years ago!

On Day two we went to the Collosseum. I lobbied for a human guide and got it. I like the human guides as you can ask them questions. It's called a didactic tour in Italy. I asked 2 questions - was the excavation of it related to the rise in nationalism (at the start of the c19)?. She said no, it was the rise of neoclassicalism. The rise of nationalism came quite a lot later. My 2nd question was about tickets. She had proudly told us that they sold tickets with numbers on them correspondending to seats. I said what were the tickets made of? They didn't know. Sources don't say. Bone, animal skin, bark? Our party started discussing my second question.

My 3rd question - I didn't ask because husband was taking the pizza - was why the financial crisis of the Western front of the Roman empire happen? Fresh in my mind because Gordon Brown has been saying there's no lessons from history on the latest financial crisis.

Everywhere you look in Rome there is some historic building or other, and some story behind it. The building they call the typewriter or wedding cake, built by King Victor at the height of nationalism a couple of years before the first world war. We went in it to see the Picasso exhibition. It appeared to be quite a cheerful time for Picasso - 1917-37. He got a bit grumpy when the Spanish Civil War started. Anyway a lovely exhibition and really inspirational to see his works of true genius. We also went to La Chappella Sistina and the Vatican. *Amazing*. The room of maps was just breathtaking. Every last little detail you wanted to soak up. You could easily spend a couple of centuries in there. And Santa Maria Maggoria. The Church of Mary Major. 5th Century. One of the best conserved churches in the world. The gold leaf, altar and mosaic frescoes just took your breath away.

Roma was perfecta. A brilliant little break. We went back to Shropshire and had more fun, running, great food and arrived back to the economic and literal fog. Happy in the gloom.

Ciao

2009-02-11T13:11:00.002Z

So much to report, so many stories to tell and so little time. I'm about to be given another beautiful soup and salad lunch. Anyway the stories that you must remind me to tell you later: Cook-la and the naming of names. Failing to prosecute John Humphries for inciting racial hatred. Risk averse risk management. Snow. Car breakdown. The trip to Rome. The two questions I asked and the one question I didn't. Food reviews. Trying to contact a couple of Lords. For different reasons. Financial meltdown. The answer to humanity's problems - free energy to all. Curry, lasagne, ravioli, pizza and sea bass. Trawler men. Agatha Christie. What books I'm going to get with my twenty five quid book token. More running. And tonight's dessert menu. White chocolat and pistacio parfait with passion fruit and lycee jelly.

AA Gill's review is Bravo Sierra

2009-02-04T21:19:00.007Z

Today we went to Foxtrot Oscar. It's Gordon Ramsay's new restaurant. It was absolutely marvellous. It cost £112.48 including all wine and service. Very reasonable for high quality London food. And it's in the heart of Chelsea. We had a bit of a to-do about it as well.

To cut a long story short I had a traumatic time last Thursday. I was in a taxi which did a hit and run on a pedestrian and sped off at eighty miles an hour. Fortunately he let me out after a few minutes and I whimpered to the police station. The hit and runner was on a mobile phone. Anyway the medium and long term effects of this have made me: 1) slightly more cautious yet also more confident in my driving (I have never held a telephone conversation whilst driving) 2) carry on living exactly and precisely as I was before as there is jack diddly squat that I could have done to create a different outcome. As part of 2) I have carried on my (possibly) too high expectations in terms of restaurant food.

Basically husband wanted to go to Foxtrot Oscar. When I read Mr Gill's review I wanted to go to the Square. The only Ramsay establishment husband has eaten at is The Sandgate in Folkestone where we went for our honeymoon. We loved it. Perfect for a trip to France as it is pretty reasonable yet v close to coast. I had eaten at the Narrow and it was a bit rubbish. So I had surreptitiously booked the Square. When husband got out of shower I saw the look on his face. He started talking about money and I quietly unbooked the square.

Firstly the service. Impeccable, friendly, informal and funny. They never wrote anything down, not a word. Yet nothing was forgotten. We thought we might have the restaurant to ourselves having got in at 6.30 to an empty place. Indeed the host made us feel like the only people in the world. We had his undivided attention.

The bread was amazing. sourdough in little triangle shapes. We also knew from Ramsay's cookery books that his sea food is possibly his greatest strength. He saves money on expensive ingredients from hours of back breaking, yet highly trained labour - we love his fish stock and fish sauce.

Yes, my prawn cocktail was inexplicably in a bowl but husband had a terrine with prune chutney which was v nice. And the mains were also great. Pub prices, fine dining quality. Wine was good value and gorgoeous. We had Pinot Noir - complex, tasty and light. And for dessert I had bread and butter pudding - the lightest and best I have ever tasted.
Wonderful muscat to finish and the husband had some good cheese.

What I love most about my most expensive hobby (eating out) is the stories you always get from the best places. It turned out that we were joined in the restaurant by the man who played William Dorrit from the Dickens TV serial with his mother/ wife/daughter/two female friends. We very much enjoyed the eavesdropping about how this actor learnt to play the ukelele on the Royle Family. Then the owner told us that his brother had sacked AA Gill's wife's brother. He said Ramsay had also chucked out Gill and Joan Collins from Royal hospital road. So the bad review from AA Gill was predictable.

But the thing about Ramsay is he seems to listen to his critics. Gill's criticisms - meat pie and french onion soup - had been taken off the menu. The food was so tasty and well executed - living up to Ramsay's dedication to simplicities.

AA Gill needs to return to foxtrot oscar.

Anger management

2009-01-28T18:00:00.002Z

One of the things I may have inherited or at least learnt from my mother is the ability to get angry from listening to the radio. It's five years since the Hutton report came out and we're in the worst recession since 1945 - with the UK being most badly affected worldwide. These things are in my view NOT a coincidence as we have had the most right wing governments ever since 1979. One of the things you learn about managing anger is to try and channel this passion into more positive arenas. Furrow your energy into areas where you actually have the power to change something in a positive way. This is where I detract from the revolutionary socialists. I'm into non-violence. In a big way. I don't believe violence is the answer.

So today, practising as I preach I have spent a good hour at least meditating. Half hour about 10am. Then another half hour about three. I've forgiven myself for getting so angry (it's totally understandable). I've forgiven my ex-boyfriend, a suspected paedophile I know and Idi Amin. I browsed through my meditation books and one of the other things they suggested was gardening.

It was great catching that last hour of sunlight at 3.30, and when you look at the BBC MET office forecast instantaeously it's not that inaccurate. They said zero miles per hour wind. Perfect for humping leaves for 2010's leafmould (or will it be 2011? - Watch this space). I've had lots of plants as presents so these are now all lined up neatly for the next nice sunny day to plant in the front garden. And in ten minutes I am hopefully hooking up with Chapel Allerton running club. Even if I don't meet with them I will be running there and back - getting ten minutes of run in!

And I've just finished listening to Melvyn Bragg's In our time - History of history. Mummy and Daddy's girl. Whilst playing with the beads my stepmother gave me. I'm a good stepdaughter too. You can certainly learn how to become calm and it's much more pleasant.

Too cold to do anything - except watch Murder She Wrote

2009-01-26T14:58:00.003Z

I am waiting for the boiler repair person to arrive. The oven is on gas mark 6 - with the door open. And the gas fire is on full blast. I was supposed to be transcribing a bit of Sube Banerjee's interview. In fact I might go and get it in a minute. Now in fact. The self-imposed guilt of watching clap trap on telly is forcing me into action.

Connie's inauguration salmon

2009-01-22T17:07:00.002Z

Chop two small onions, some coriander (that I keep in the freezer after chopping it), some ginger, garlic, lemon juice, All-Seasons all purpose seasoning and some olive oil. Marinade the two salmon steaks for about 24 hours. Then put in all this in oven at Gas Mark 6 for about 10 minutes.

Serve with potatoes and veg. Or salad.

Tears of Joy

2009-01-20T17:45:00.003Z

There's so much irony that on the same day as probably the best ever President of the USA got sworn in, that the banks, where we all put our money went into freefall. They collapsed. So this morning I was panicking about fighting my neighbours for food (nearly), yet by the afternoon Obama had persuaded me to take a homeless person in (almost). It's the same mixed emotions as when he got elected. Absolute and utter joy. Appreciating every last detail and every last memory of the day - that is every last memory of the inauguration - not the financial news. Michelle's pale lime green dress with beautiful slightly darker green gloves. The sunshine. Not just through my windows, but glinting off the windows of Capitol House. The only thing comparable was my own wedding day. Knowing that for years afterwards I will want to remember the things that happened today. The funny bits. Obama fluffing his lines over Lincoln's Bible. Realising that the song Aretha Franklin was singing was the same as God Save the Queen - with different lyrics. Obama smiling as he went into Church.

His speech I was waiting for. I don't think I was disappointed. I've put the think in there because he mentioned patriotism as a virtue. I don't agree. The speech was also perhaps slightly too sombre and warlike. He might have been better capturing some of the joy in what he represents. He did mention the fight against fascism before communism, and the historical scenes he painted were great. The commentators went on and on about the cold. I saw the clouds of breath. It was minus ten in Washington . He mentioned the frostiness and reminded us how previous generations worked so hard for us - we, the new generation. I felt sobre. I started shivering. Then I put on Connie's salmon steaks. And thought about some Muscadet.

But the happiness did not dissipate. I felt proud to be almost-American. Sharing the American culture a bit at least. Watching people in HD and remembering the USA of my childhood. It's all superlatives. Superman, Wonderwoman, Supergirl. Moonlighting (not a superlative, but a an excellent TV programme which I can't get on DVD). Because I've read his wonderful books I feel like I know them all. It feels real. Real life, real people. Real tears of joy.

A guide to running for beginners

2009-01-18T19:00:00.002Z

The great thing about running is that all you need to start is a pair of trainers. I actually got some pretty good stuff though - we have a shop dedicated to running in Leeds. I got some flourescent cotton gloves - ideal as thin so you don't get too hot, yet takes the edge off when it's freezing cold. I also got a lightweight waterproof-ish jacket, also great for these rainy winter runs.

When I very first started I just used to run for literally five minutes at a time. Because I knew that unless I gave myself some very easily achievable things to do I would pack it in. Gradually I stepped it up and nowadays I can run -well, I say run, it's more like a snail jogging. In fact most people walk faster than I run- for half an hour at a time. For the past couple of times I've been out I haven't walked at all. We also back on to some playing fields. Marvellous as you're straight out there with some beautiful views of Leeds as we're right on top of the hill. I would say the key things are for running in winter -0.5) get some trainers 1) remember it only gets light at about 8.30, find a route you enjoy. 2) Always look at the weather forecast. Actually forget this. I relied on BBC met office yesterday - totally inaccurate for Leeds. Look out of the window before you go out. Regardless dress up warm at this time of year. You can always tie your jacket round your waist aka 1970s style. 3) Sort out your playlist. This is vital. Having looked at a website for inspiration, it turns out most runners are also rockers. Personally this is not to my taste. Being a big rock fan at home, I don't want to get turned off my favourite music and get bored of it. It's pop for me every time. Having said that, my feminist and advancement of human rights side to my personality dictates that I cannot listen to Emimem - Lose Yourself. I just can't. I don't care if everyone on the planet says it's the only good thing to run to.

I'm still definitely a beginner, having now been running for 3 months. I did my first 'race' and did it half an hour slower than virtually everyone else. But, something had to replace all the cycling I did in London. I used to love cycling (still do but I just don't get chance to do it) for how you're so close to nature. Running is even better in this respect. You are there, with the urban landscape and the immigrant seagulls, running and every day is slightly different. Slightly damper, slightly warmer, or frosty. A different view, diverse birds. The tall grasses like swords dissecting the crisp air and sunlight glinting off them. Or the wind cooling you down as you run against it and towards it. And every time the endorphins get you. You're hooked. And the best news is the only side effects are positive ones.

A day thinking about feminism

2009-01-08T20:58:00.005Z

I'd mentioned in my PhD proposal - still waiting to hear what some people think of the draft to send it in - that I was influenced by feminist theory and would be examining why carers are so obscured in the histories of dementia. I indulged myself again and watched the last half hour of Murder, She Wrote starring Angela Lansbury. Just as I was thinking what a wonderful example it was of women achieving and showing their intellectual ability (she has a bust of Shakespeare in the house) it turned out it was the vain younger woman who committed the murder. I should have known of course. Then there was the news of the French justice minister (Jack Straw's counterpart they helpfully explained) arriving at work 4 days after giving birth at the age of 44, simultaneously announcing that she would not be disclosing who the father of her child was. The story was accompanied by footage of her strutting laughing across some 18th century cobblestones clutching a legal brief whilst wearing five inch stilettos. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I definitely felt like crying a bit later when hearing the news of some starving Gazan children huddled in their mothers' corpses and a woman from the Red Cross denouncing Israel. Israel have a woman as their army spokesperson. There was a hand bag in the background as she was speaking.
And then I looked at my lovely friend Jemima's website. Loads of good journalism and tips for the entrepreneur. Plus Lila's first day at nursery.

Round robin

2008-12-17T21:09:00.004Z

Dear friends and relatives

First of all apologies to all of you who hate round robins. I’m afraid that we are just too busy to reward our loving, caring, generous and well-deserving friends and relatives with a detailed calligraphic & handwritten note of everything that’s happened in our lives over the past couple of years or so. Secondly, apologies for not even sending a round robin note to anyone last Christmas. We were even busier – moving house amongst other things!

Anyway the past couple of years have been pretty excellent and eventful for us. Phil managed to get a training post in A&E which he is really loving – based in Yorkshire. We bought a house here in Leeds – right at the height of house prices to the very day. Chapel Allerton is a villagey suburb on the Harrogate Road about 2 miles from Leeds City Centre. It’s not quite as diverse as Stoke Newington, but Chapeltown is getting there and that’s a 2 minute walk from where we are now.

For the past year I have been commuting weekly to London to carry on my role as Partnership Support Officer at a ‘highly commended’ NHS organisation very close to where I’ve been living in London. Apart from the financial aspect to this arrangement, I have thoroughly enjoyed this – 18 hours a week is perfect working time. I’ve absolutely loved studying for my MA in Contemporary British History at the Institute of Historical Research, University of London, which I’ve done alongside the NHS work. And today is the start of a one year career break from that to concentrate on finishing the MA in Leeds! Brilliant. I’m a very lucky woman. The NHS is great for career breaks.

I certainly wouldn’t be able to pursue my ambitions without the support of the wonderful Phil – we are very much still newly weds and hoping the honeymoon period will last a good 15 years at least! I hope I’m not putting words in Phil’s mouth when I say that our wedding day was the happiest day of our lives – thanks to all of you who shared it with us. And for those of you that couldn’t– we hope to see you in 2009!

The past couple of years in time has inevitably brought ups and downs. A few people have died, and there have been some new arrivals. We hope we have helped support those friends and relatives who have been bereaved. And we hope we haven’t hogged the bundles of joy that have arrived!

I was elected a public Governor of Homerton Hospital in September 07. Unfortunately I can’t think of anything non-controversial to say about that. My advice to anyone thinking of standing for Governor is, perhaps not to take on ten other things at the same time as moving out of the area.

Phil has created a geek’s paradise in our living room. We remortgaged with Northern Rock to fund the remote control alone. Phil got advice from a nice American chap called Madoff and capitalised on our lack of capital investing our debt in computer equipment. We now have four different methods of playing computer games. The Wii, Sony Playstation, the Xbox and the PC. I cashed in my Lehman Brothers shares at a convenient moment to fund the garden landscaping. [Joke].

In fact I wish I had/have more time for gardening. I seem to be spending inordinate amounts of time writing essays. The difference between now and 1995 when I was last doing this is that now I enjoy it. Or think I do.

The most recent exciting event was Pete and Candy’s September wedding in Bali and Hong Kong. What a brilliant time we had! The wedding in Bali in the ‘chapel in the clouds’ overlooking the sea was breathtaking. Pete and Candy looked stunning and we had a great little party in the villa by (and in) the pool afterwards when we all let our hair down. A week later was the Hong Kong banquet where we got thoroughly and pleasingly immersed in Hong Kong culture, with various tea exchanges for little red envelopes of cash. Phil gave a great best man’s speech. Pete and Candy are such generous, patient and caring hosts and made us feel totally at home – spoiling me in particular taking me to all the museums. We can’t wait to go back!

My brother may as well live in Hong Kong – he has probably been in this country as long as Pete last year. But I think this indicates his career is on the up which can’t be bad. Joe has worked with his partner Aoife in a new band called Rodina. They have an amazing brand new album - out now!

Apart from our big holiday to Hong Kong and Bali, we’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of little minibreaks. We went to Burgh Island, just off the Torquay coast to celebrate our first wedding anniversary in the spring. In November we had a marvellous time narrowboating from Leighton Buzzard to Milton Keynes, a birthday present for me.

Hopefully see you soon, keep in touch

Lots of love

Anna and Phil xxx

19th May 1971

2008-12-08T17:41:00.002Z

This was a very special day for one of my closest friends - she was giving birth on it. It also turns out to be the day I got married 36 years later. And, it turns out to be the date that my Granny was looking at her wedding veils, writing a note of what she remembered about them, after she got married in July 1927. I don't know what the odds are of all this happening on the same date, but it's not odds on. Whatever it is, it was a very nice coincidence to think that precisely 36 years beforehand, before she died, before she lost her memory, before even I was born that my own grandmother was thinking of weddings, including her own on what later turned out to be my own wedding date. I discovered this at the weekend along with other family history - including my grampa's war medals, which husband was of course more interested in. It is of course slightly regrettable that we didn't discover the afore-mentioned veils and their little note PRIOR to the wedding so that I could wear one of them. Such is life.

Other things are pootling along. The cats have been fighting. We think because of the cold. They don't like going outside when it's so cold and so start picking on each other. I have about three deadlines all at the same time. PhD funding, essay deadline and work.
I have managed to include manuika money in my new bread machine recipe (you only put half a teaspoon in). I have done 80% of Christmas shopping online. Went to the gym on Saturday, and according to the heart rate monitor I am even fitter than I was. It doesn't make sense though - I don't feel it, I haven't been doing any cycling (bike is in Leeds), I am fatter and weigh more, plus I only ran once this week and last. I think it needs new batteries. We went to the very nice Watts Russell pub for lunch on Saturday with Mum. And Alan Bennett is on the train. Reading the Guardian. In fact he's asleep.

Success

2008-12-04T13:40:00.002Z

Defining success for yourself I think is one of the key facets to being content and then happy. Being rich doesn't come into much, for me anyway. I am getting very excited indeed about the impending career break. Probably over excited. Not unusual for me. There's nothing like trawling through the history of death though as an antidote to that. Anyway have also prepared a one page PhD proposal for funding, which I'm not that ashamed of. Other news - the cats seem much happier since I gave them frontline for their fleas.

Going back to my old tory ways (tory with a small 't')

2008-11-26T20:18:00.002Z

I'm going to shamelessly plagiarise blaglady's ideas at least - summarising my latest day's experiences in a word beginning with t. It's more interesting if you can think of some multiple sylabul words but I'll leave that to the tattonified who can also comment on this blog if they have a spare few seconds in their ultra full lives. Anyway the point is, I've gone back to my usual slightly depressed self (after the euphoria of the Obama effect). The Whig historians are incorrect. Again. Progress - my**** [word beginning with a, four letters which rhymes with pass if you've got a posh accent].
Proving this are John Humphries and Cathy Newman. To cut a long story short both these so-called journalists have been on radio and TV respectively recently to denounce public sector pensions. Anyway THIS battle has just started. If they think they will take my pension off me they have got another thing coming. I'm trying to think of the best strategy. And herein lies the problem. How, in God's name (or Dawkins if you're that way inclined) do you decide what to moan about and who to moan to when there is so much moaning, complaining, lobbying and writing to be done? I disagree with 99.9% of what the government or anyone else with any power does every second of my waking life. As far as I am concerned I am right and always have been. But just how does one prioritise? Anyway I looked up Cathy Newman on the web (frankly I've given up on Humphries). As her top 'scoop' at ITN it was uncovering illegal immigrants somewhere. I'm more proud of the literal excrement scooping I've been doing in the real world. So I wrote a complaining email to ITN calling her a neo-fascist. That'll teach the twit.

However I end up arguing with myself because I can't help thinking if the state pension was a decent amount - that people could realistically live on, then I wouldn't really give a flower what rubbish Newman or Humphries spouted. There are further anachronisms and idocyncrasies evident everywhere which cheer me up. The Head of Tobacco Control sparking up a cigarette on the street outside work. 25% of kids obese in Hackney. People working in Child Death being so happy.

When the Whigs opposed the Tories they were the progressive ones - they wanted change. But (as I understand it) the changes they promoted were so backward that it is just about the biggest insult you can say to any historian these days. To be honest I don't really understand why it is such a massive insult. If you're a Whig you believe in progress. The problem for us people in the real world is that sometimes progress doesn't happen - and it only happens because people argue for it.

Sage

2008-11-23T16:59:00.002Z

Sage conjures up many images and definitions for me at the moment. Old Sage - I feel like one. Clary Sage - my favourite aromatherapy oil, great for meditating and also for pain relief. And Lorna Sage whose great memoir I read on our brilliant minibreak. Narrowboating really is a perfect way to spend a long weekend - especially if you've just taken up running. You have to get up at the crack of dawn anyway - well by the latest 6.30 so you can set off by daybreak. And fantastic running as the sun rises with the beautiful colours reflecting in the canal. Last week still felt autumnal - the light refractions: yellows, golds, reds and leaf shapes incredible. By the third day we'd mastered the running/lock/boating combination with me running ahead and sorting out the lock and Phil skippering the boat. Ideally not really a winter minibreak choice, because of the hours of daylight, but hey ho we just about managed to get to Stoke Bruene from Leighton Buzzard (actually not far at all) and back. It was a bit of a rush though. I'm afraid I wouldn't recommend racing to get to Stoke Bruene canal museum in November sleet on a Sunday morning by narrowboat. My high expectations after all the brilliant museums in Hong Kong were dashed by this amateur effort.
What I wanted - a history of canals in the Industrial Revolution context, together with detailed histories of local locks, locks are such impressive pieces of early technology. Yet most of the dates on the ones we went past were 1860s onwards - after the railways! I want histories of canalside buildings not to mention how Britain's canal history sits in the world history of canals. What we got - a few 'models' of what a couple of tunnels look like. As with all my beefs - it needed more investment; a professional canal historian to revamp it. We loved
some of the food we tried - the Plough at Simpson definitely needs a mention. Wonderful fish, salads and desserts. That was the good thing about this sort of a holiday - combining peace and tranquility, with history, good food, bit of exercise, reading biography. Perhaps it's the wonder of history that I find the most powerful motivator- even more so I think after Obama's victory.
I did the run today - Leeds Abbey Dash 10k. Extremely slowly (1 hour 30mins), but for a first effort I'm pleased. Definitely progress. Perhaps all my professors are right after all.

BO

2008-11-07T13:31:00.002Z

Yes, having taken up running over the last few weeks I've been having more of the above. However, of course the world can't get enough of Barack Obama at the moment. It's mixed emotions though. Utter joy tempered with the death and suffering of millions we've had to sacrifice to get here. We still feel cheated over the past eight years of utter incompetence, and previous ten years or so of unbridled, uncriticised, unregulated capitalist supremacy. Not to mention the past three hundred years of slavery, destruction and war. We realise he won't technically make that much difference. He can't. He's not God. But, yet, this is incredible. The most powerful job in the world - an elected job at that - filled by a talented black man. I know there are so many people like me who feel like we know Barack, even though we've never met him and are never likely to. He did a similar job - 'Community Organiser' in Chicago to my 'Development Worker' in Hackney. Similar places. At similar ages. So I feel proud. Proud to be human again. Proud to be liberal, left wing, to have done similar work as Barack Obama in a similar place. I will never be rich. But his journey has made me feel that the power of the people is strong and has risen. Hope's audacity has been proven.

Connie's historic parsnip soup

2008-11-04T18:59:00.002Z

While I've been working in London for the past year while hubby has been in Yorkshire I've been staying with the wonderful Connie. I have learnt a lot from her, not least the talents of Barack Obama and the addictive American presidential race. I dipped into her copy of 'Dreams from my father' - instantly hooked and devoured whilst I was in Indonesia. It felt great to be reading about one of Indonesia's greatest exports whilst there myself. Anyway, Connie is very nervous. I'm pretty excited. I think it's a landslide for our man. Connie won't believe it until tomorrow morning.

Connie's parsnip soup will be one of things I miss whilst on my career break in Yorkshire. And one of the things I will hopefully associate with the Obama victory. So I can make it up there:

Take one onion, three cloves of garlic, 2 bay leaves, 500g of parsnip, half a sweet potato and some vegetable Oxo - in a saucepan covered with water. Boil and simmer for 35 minutes. Put in a blender with more water until smooth. Heat and eat.

Perfect for a change in November.

Five Star Review of 'Black Ice' by AC/DC - the 13.99 version

2008-10-25T11:15:00.002+01:00

Last night I had a well deserved break from spreading the socialist revolution and my scholarly investigations into age discrminiation in the Edwardian era. Husband and I drove over to Leek to attend my ex-boyfriend's granny's 90th birthday. Quite by coincidence AC/DC released what is quite possibly their best album since 'Back in Black' - which was released a whopping 28 years ago. 'Black Ice' is the ideal antidote to almost anything, apart from a good night's sleep. Great for recessions, long-ish car journeys into sunsets, uniting young and old alike and musical riffs, lead guitar solos and simplistic sing-along lyrics. I've already listened to it five times and I only bought it at 2pm yesterday. I love 'Skies on Fire' the second track. 'I know you. And you know me. Tell me what is you want it to be. What you want to be. What you need in me'. The band are getting so old now that I'm constantly wondering if these songs are now written about conversations they've been having with their kids. Gone are the crude and to be honest over the top potentially -illegal lyrics about underage sex. (Squealer and 'Can I sit next to you Girl? spring to mind from the 70s). It's all rock and roll, war, the weather and gigs. I don't think they're getting it as much as they did 30 years ago. 'War Machine' spells it out nicely. For true AC/DC fans it's a total plagiarisation of one of their 1980 tracks 'Giving the Dog a Bone'. But if you are such a dedicated fan, you don't mind of course them replicating their masterpieces with a militarisatic rather than sexual overtone. The booklet which comes with the 13.99 version is even more intriguing. For an extra four pounds you get all the lyrics, AC/DC in grey rather than red on the front, and some glossy colour photos. Worth every penny. Although not sure Americans agree. Their tour sold out in ten seconds over here. You can still get tickets over there.

Angus is still in his obligatory school uniform and pulling faces like the naughty school boy nicking from the tuck shop he isn't. But the rest of the band - who must now be approaching their 60s - have been working out (possibly in my dreams, a 'rock and roll dream') but anyway, they're all smiling. Probably smiling because of all the money they've made out of us suckers. Even more of a giveaway to this fact is the title of one of the songs 'Money Made', 'You keep it up, you get it made'. On this ocassion, they have kept it up. I have to disagree with my ex on the issue of 'Fly on the Wall' being up to this standard - it ain't.
But I think we wouldn't be 'Spoilin for a Fight' on why this is probably their best album for nearly thirty years. It's possibly because it's the original line-up since the 1980 'Let There be Rock' tour - apart from Bon Scott who died from a drinking overdose then. Angus Young on lead guitar, Malcolm Young (whose name I had emblazoned in Celtic script on my cut-off denim jacket, ahem some time ago) on rythym guitair, Phil Rudd on drums and Cliff Williams on bass. Brian Johnson 'vocals'. His voice has actually improved. But it's amazing the difference the steady drums and dominant bass make. Phil Rudd only came back in 1994 after scrapping with Malcolm.

And 'Decibel' - track 9. A track presumably written by Angus about playing in open air stadiums. 'Love in the rain, they're in there rocking standing proud, Decibel. That's the history of rock and roll'.

And the birthday party? 'She likes Rock N Roll'

Is this the end of capitalism?

2008-10-12T19:39:00.003+01:00

I hope tomorrow they finally tell us what percentage of the banks we now own for the £500 bn we've put in. I'm definitely writing to Diane Abbott and the Today Programme (again) if they don't. Basically if it's what Paul Mason on Newsnight said on Thursday - approximately 1% then we're doomed as that's definitely not enough to restore stability. My vote is of course for 100%, with us being able to vote at AGMs, politicians in charge, after all they are elected. But what I REALLY want is for us to own: 1) The National Health Service. Privatisation MUST stop. 2) Care. This needs to be part of the NHS anyway - free to anyone who needs it. Automatically for over 70s, automatic for those with disabilities. 3) Education. Free. NO PFI.

And true Democracy must occur. Money cannot be the incentive - instead we need accountability, public service, giving to others, sharing, cooperation, international flows of labour. When people realise how rewarding it is to give to others rather than consume for themselves, they won't turn back to the past twenty years of gluttonous market madness.

Yes, this is a sea change. Finally I am agreeing with all my friends. Or more to the point they are agreeing with me - I haven't changed. Even in the past month the shift to the left has been palpaple. I'm no longer arguing about economics. The mixed economy is back. Thank God. OK there might not be a revolution. But people will realise the nonsensical persistant reliance on greed - especially over the past twenty years or so - to save humanity and the earth. A more socialist, caring society is the future.

How to not get stressed in a global crisis: Managing depression in a Depression

2008-10-08T20:03:00.003+01:00

1) Talk to kindred spirits. The people who you always agree with politically. You know who they are.
2) Talk to Dad
3) Get on with work
3.5) define work for yourself
4) keep yourself fit
5) Meditate
6) Complain to BBC/Diane Abbott etc
7) Articulate concerns and record them.
8) Think about the sun rising tomorrow
9) Redefine capitalism

Depressed in a depression

2008-10-04T15:01:00.002+01:00

Just finished another care work shift. It's like doing a care marathon: 'Nearly there, nearly there. Just another five clients to go. First client only made me 2 hours late, and that time is reducing. Oh she hasn't got any fresh milk. Never mind. I'll open the UHT. Damn, there's shit everywhere. Well clearing all that up will only take ten minutes.' We don't get paid travel time, plus the time that people are on our rotas - normally for me anyway you can double that. Easily. Any extra time I work I don't get paid for. The way I see it is that the sort of people we care for should be getting the best treatment, the best homes and the best lifestyles. They are severely disabled so this care and treatment that they should get should compensate them for the bum hand lady luck dealt them. Of course the opposite is true most of the time. The homes are dirty. The care is insufficient: utterly underresourced, poor training and poor supervision. And we don't get enough time with them. They don't get any advice or advocacy. The first lady I saw - with complex needs had crap stains all over her bed. The house was much dirtier than when I last saw her. She said her main carers were on holiday. Well the company know that so why can't they spend an extra whatever it is making sure she gets good care? For complex cases we need two carers if the regular carer is away. Because I actually do care I cleaned all this up, put fresh sheets on the bed and made it what I considered habitable. I was then half an hour late - of course not including travel time.
I actually quite enjoy the work. The system on the other hand is another kettle of fish.
Because they don't pay you adequately, and you're not given a break, you inevitably rush. I started work at 7.30, finished at 3pm. It's actually a full day's work - no break. I ate half a marmite sandwich for 'lunch' in a car park. I got hiccups because I was eating it so fast. 15 minute appointments need to be outlawed. What can you do in 15 minutes? Rushing is not good. This is supposed to be 'care'. I end up prioritising - they must eat, they must fill in my timesheet, I must fill in their care plan. Emptying commode and washing up get forgotten.

Anyway progress since the 1930s is at least antibiotics. One of my old ladies showed me her wedding photo. She couldn't remember when it was, but it looked like about 1936 to me. Her husband died a few years later from pneumonia.,

How to prepare for the future: A brief guide to global strategies

2008-10-01T20:00:00.011+01:00

1) The American Dream. This involves trying to earn as much money as possible. Failing to see the value of democracy or education. Also known as capitalism. Money is King. Recommended by almost everyone most of the time - failing at the moment. About 150 years old.
2) Marxism. Or Communism. Basically private property is illegal - to a certain extent. Tends to be the opposite of 1). Was popular in the early twentieth century and in places like Cuba. Gone slightly out of fashion, likely to have a resurgence due to 1) going down the pan faster than you can say Frederich Engels. Trade unions are king. About 148 years old.
3) God. Vicars are apparently the happiest people job wise. God supposedly gives you faith and hope. About 3000 years old. God is King - and His prophets of course - Abraham, Moses, Christ and Mohammad. Tends to go in and out of fashion. Some people who use 1 & 2 also use 3. But not all three at the same time. One of the problems is people seem to disagree about the prophets and kill each other about it.
4) Tea leaves. Basically the tea leaves are King. They form different shapes in the cup. Try not to use a tea bag. Popular late nineteenth century.
5) The Monarchy and aristocracy. Easy - the King is King. Or queen. It's the opposite of inheritance tax. Basically if you're born a monarch, unless 2) happens then your kids will also be King. Popular in Britain, Spain and Saudi Arabia. Been going about as long as 3). The less you know anyone who's aristocracy the less likely you are to have money or a job.
Quite a good indicator of what your future will be like. Unless you happen to be somewhere where 2) is going on. In that case emigrate (if you're royalty).
6) Astrology. Published each day in tabloid newspapers. Currently more reliable than 1,2 and 5. The argument is people are influenced by the stars in the sky. Because we can predict where they're going we can predict what we're all going to do.
7) Luck. Arguably the most scientific of all the ways we can prepare for the future. There is a probability of anything happening. The more remote it is the less likely it is to happen.
Gambling is King. Popular in China. We were pretty lucky the Big Bang started in the first place - about 3bn years old. The problem is bad luck.
8) Fascism. Linked to nihilism. If you don't want a future a good choice. Popular in 1930s Europe and having a resurgence now. Dictator is King.
9) Palm reading. You have four main lines. Life line circles your thumb. Should be a nice long circle. Head line crosses the palm from the start of the life line. And your heart line goes across from your little finger ending just before the head. Career is up the middle of your palm. Not the best way to prepare as you can't do anything about it. Bad luck if your life line is cut. Palm is King.
10) Anarchism. Freedom is king. Anyone can do whatever they want. Nothing/Everything is in charge. The phrase in 1960s France was 'Demand the Impossible.'
11) not walking under ladders. Likely to have short term impact in terms of buckets of water not falling on your head. Ladder is king.

Dear Jane, Jacqui and Nancy

2008-09-30T09:37:00.004+01:00

The world's capitalist system is on its knees. We believe that now is the time for you to denounce privatisation of our care and health services and stop this from happening. Privatisation of the health and care industries has had cross party political support over the past twenty years or so. We have seen privatisation of home care work, 'consultancy', training programmes, capital projects, GP services and the Expert Patient Programme to name a few. Wherever large companies think they can make a fast buck they swoop like vultures.

This privatisation has had a disastrous impact on the NHS. Services like privatised home care and the Expert Patient Programme are fragmented and not as effectively regulated. We argue that people have prematurely died and suffered as a result of this. And this is likely to get much worse, as money is cut from privatised budgets following the sweeping cuts to borrowing banks are making and will continue to make for the foreseeable future.

The drive to divide the NHS - which you have led - must stop. Even calling the different parts of the organisation 'divisions' is divisive. That's what the word means. You have ground down the 'provider' side so that 'commissioners' feel superior to 'providers'. 'Providers' is a very degrading term for people working so hard for the health and wellbeing of the nation. You have made these people (the nurses, doctors, hospital workers) feel inferior. The free markets don't work. They are failing. This approach works even less in health and social care - these are peoples lives we are talking about - not just a fast buck. Please stop the current push to privatise the NHS. Stop the 'Alternative Provider Organisation'. You are wrong - this will not be an improvement. Takeover the running of all your privatised elements - like consultants and cleaning. This is more democratic - as publicly elected Governors like myself and experienced managers, not to mention the local authority, like yourselves are better managers and motivators than the profit crazed capitalists.

The history of 'Keep Hackney NHS Public' is one we are proud of, although unfortunately its establishment, like many organisations and events was a reaction to political events. You probably remember a letter from the then, Sir Nigel Crisp (now Lord Crisp of course - sworn to secrecy on what happened then) to yourselves in July 2005 telling you to make cuts of 15%, in support of 'commissioning a patient led NHS'. We vigorously opposed this and immediately formed a political organisation which united trade unions, patients and the local community, linked to the national 'Keep our NHS Public'. In due course, Tony Blair and Patricia Hewitt who were the probable architects of the debacle were deposed, after I might say substantial lobbying from ourselves. The cuts as you know, were returned on the NHS balance sheets as a surplus. So just over two years ago, before Alan Johnson became Health Secretary, the NHS was facing a £2bn deficit. Now it is £2bn surplus. The local NHS has an extra £23m to spend. As a result of all this success I was elected public Governor of the Homerton in September 2007, Gill George was elected national executive member of UNITE last year.

We stand united, proud of our short past and we implore upon you to stop privatisation, bring back in-house outsourced services - such as cleaning at the Homerton and privatised home care services, stop your misguided 'APO' plans, and give your staff the appropriate pay rise - in line with inflation so that staff are not effectively getting a pay cut.

Keep Hackney NHS Public

Bankrupting the banks

2008-09-28T09:48:00.003+01:00

Looking at our bank accounts it would be absolutely great - as they make red marker pen seem rather pink - if the banks went bust. Of course they wouldn't get their money that we owe them. The problem is is that the NHS - automatically unprofitable de facto - employs the most caring and transparent people - people who want it to continue and provide a better life not for themselves but for others. The banks on the other hand employ greedy manipulative philistines, who endevour to pull fast ones on their own children and grandchildren whenever they can. Consequently the world governments couldn't give a flying hoot if myself, my friends and family go bankrupt. But if I were a billionaire selfish prat they would.

Anyway I'm taking up running - not only running up large debts in running gear (amazing how much you can spend on clothing technology) to help the banks go bankrupt, but running to keep myself in tip top shape ready for armaggedon.

I told husband we couldn't afford to join the gym at the moment. Anyway he ignored me. I'm trying to see this as a personal mission to bring down Natwest. The problem is our joint account is with the Co-op, of course deliberately joined because they're supposed to be nice. This is part of the problem with a marxist revolution, even the nice people you have to stick up against the wall. Or alternatively take them to your gym with your guest pass.

Marxism Today

2008-09-26T08:02:00.005+01:00

I've just been doing what is normally my least favourite activity, listening to 'The Today Programme' on Radio Four. They just said 'They say a week's a long time in politics. but a few hours are a long time in the global financial markets'. True, and true to their right wing form even Jonathan Sachs, chief rabbi was defending capitalism on Thought for the day, claiming that some school scheme he'd inspired had implemented morality in the stock markets. But it hasn't has it Jonny boy?

Revolutionary socialists, like myself (I wasn't particularly yesterday but people can change) start acting frenetically and happily when global economic apocalyspse comes home to roost. I almost bought the Daily Mail yesterday - a front page headline of a photo with beardie Richard Branson 'IN DEFENCE OF CAPITALISM'. When even the Daily Mail is having headlines like that you it's enough to make you skip along Fleet Street. Capitalism needs defending.

The political system has done nothing but anger me. It's a political system based on a corrupt economic system. Especially now, today. The whole of my adult life I have done virtually nothing else but try to tell people about the perils of privatisation - particularly of social services and health care. When a 'Labour' social services committee implemented cuts to social services, implemented charges for older and disabled people's care - I led a rally of older people to that committee. When a local authority privatised housing benefit services, I led a deputation of people who explained how the most needy were being made homeless. And when the 'Labour' government (ok, Tony Blair and Patricia Hewitt) cut the NHS budget by 15% and tried to privatise it, I led the work and was a founder member of 'Keep Our NHS Public'. I lobbied my MP with another individual - not for my own job but for the thousands of patients and staff members who would lose their services and jobs.

Today I am an employee of a privatised care company - listed on the stock market I believe. I work in Leeds, the company's HQ is in Birmingham. We get paid about £6 per hour. But not paid any travel time. My average monthly salary for a day's work a week is £32. It works out at about £4 an hour - and is actually life saving work. When the markets dictate - as they have done - people are sacrificed for money. Every minute when I care for these people I can see that. My labour is not valued appropriately - as keeping quite old and disabled people alive is not profitable. And when profits go down, companies do not give themselves up for nationalisation because they think they're unethical. No, they make cuts. That means job losses.

This is much, much more major than the Iraq War. This is because already a billion people are starving -the food crisis caused by the bio-fuels nightmare and climate change has overturned 10 years of economic growth. The decrease in demand in the economy from the corrupt, unregulated gambling of billionaires will cause a global economic meltdown. This will affect more people than the Iraq War as it is truly international - more so because of globalisation than the Great depression. What we need is grassroots action. Trade Unions acting with pressure groups and the community. Jobs must be saved. Care and health companies need urgent nationalisation. International Socialism needs to lift its head again and rise to the challenge of uniting green and red all over the world. The Labour Party needs to reinstate Clause 4. Attacks on immigrants must stop. Xenophobia needs to be illegal. Borders need to be brought down so people can move to where the work is. Local government needs to be given proper power and not be allowed to privatise services.

It is not ethical to make profit out of misery, disease and destitution.

Trotsky rocks

Paradise on Earth

2008-09-12T12:02:00.002+01:00

We are now in Bali. It is AMAZING. Plenty of emphasis on the Zing there. To be honest haven't yet ventured out of the Villa which makes Buckingham Palace look like a substandard nineteenth century squat. Every detail you could possibly think of has been thought of, and more. The 'day bed' on which I am now typing is about ten foot by ten foot with its own electricity supply, fan and cushions. Overlooking the pool which is currently glowing from the clever blue lighting. And to my left is our room, or suite of rooms. Bedroom two foot from the pool, with its own dressing room and outside double showers and bathroom. A garbath.

There are a few firsts which summarise this well:
1) The closest I have ever stayed to a pool
2) The best reflexology and foot massage ever had - and cheapest
3) The most cleverly designed holiday accommodation I've ever stayed in - open plan dining and living room overlooking the pool - no walls. Upstairs air conditioned media room and gym and upstairs living room. Rooms with their own dressing rooms and outside bathrooms
4) The best landscaping at any place I've ever stayed - tropical garden planting that puts Diermid Gavin to shame
5) showing off a brilliant sparkly manicure - and pedicure
6) The most brilliantly named villa Windu Sari - translated as 'Paradise in a Point in Time'. Couldn't be more apt.

Grooming in Hong Kong

2008-09-10T01:41:00.002+01:00

Yes, we are here in Hong Kong, for the second wedding of the century - brother in law to his fiancee. It's on Saturday in Bali. We're flying there tomorrow for five days. So far we've eaten out in most countries of the southern hemisphere (or restaurants selling their food anyway). My geography is not up to scratch but: That's Taiwan, Australia, Japan, Argentina, Korea, china - tea only, and Chinese buffet.

Yesterday was Hub Hub's birthday. He got a programmable universal remote control. It's what he wanted. He had a gorgeous cake at dinner - the best Tiramisu I've ever tasted and at lunchtime they took us up to the revolving restaurant - that was incredible. 62nd floor. Highest I've ever been. Double Decker buses like ants. And you don't want to miss a second.

It's amazing - a shopper's paradise. There is no VAT. There is barely any tax apparently. High rise flats don't seem to have had the negative press that they've had in the UK - every building is a skyscraper. Essentially it's unbridled capitalism - and it seems to work, for us and the eight million others or so. Except there is limited democracy, but as long as there's food on the table then people don't (allegedly) mind. One picture which sticks in my mind is the 'Legislative Council' building - our Houses of Parliament. It is smaller than Hackney Town Hall. It is the only 1910 building still standing in Hong Kong - we know because we bought a panoramic photo from 1910. What is astounding is that this tiny two storey colonial style outpost building is there, overlooking the harbour, and then right next to it is the 'Bank of China' or equivalent - all 82 floors of it - and the same on each side. It is like a pin head in a load of pens. Even more incredible is that in about two months time, this 'Legco' building will no longer overlook the harbour. Because they are filling in that bit of the harbour and building more bank offices. I was laughing about this, imagining if someone wanted to fill in the Thames in front of the House of Commons and build an office block. It does sum it up though - minimal governance and regulation, with money (investment) everywhere you look.

The most striking cultural experience has been seeing the thousands of Filipino maids celebrating their Sundays in 'Central'. They have little picnics in groups - on the balustrades, sitting on the tiles at the bus station. In fact sitting anywhere and everywhere they can. We were walking through on our way to somewhere else. Not a single male face as far as you could see. In one way it is quite unsettling. These people working thousands of miles from home - every one separated from their husband or boyfriend, just to earn a bit of money to send back. Not able to afford a meal out, not even 'congi' the local porridge. Just there, sitting on sheets on the concrete, playing with beads, with other women they know. On the other hand though, it is quite uplifting. They aren't crack addicts or doped up to their eyeballs,getting drunk. All you can hear is quiet chatter as they enjoy their only day off with all their friends, playing parlour games and taking advantage of the spotless infrastructure. Even in the most challenging circumstances, the human spirit can get us through.

The best scene though was when we met the bride to be - she was finishing work early on Monday at lunchtime. We all went to meet her to go for lunch. The look of joy on her face as she met the man, and they embraced. I felt very privileged indeed just to be here and see that.

'Being a step grandfather is a cinch'

2008-08-25T21:27:00.002+01:00

This is one of my Dad's comments in the car on the way to Auntie E's.

'Oral History' is part of my MA - it's my option course. Part of the MA dissertation will be based on evidence gleaned from interviews with key movers and shakers in the history of dementia. That's the plan at least. Anyway one of my friends on my course for her option essay did a piece on her interviewing her granny. I thought this would be easier and so used Auntie E as a guinea pig in this regard today - husband has finally shown me how to use voice recorder properly.

Auntie E is normally a bundle of laughs but this interview, which was highly structured by me, actually got quite harrowing at times. There were of course many comic stories, but the ones which hit home were the more sad tales. Great great granny died of Typhoid at 32 - as did two of her children, leaving my great granny , the eldest, (born 1882) to bring up a family of ten. A little later a younger sister died in a fire on her street - a man was burning advertising hoardings and her Victoriana outfit just caught fire. Great granny later of course met my great grandfather who died at 29 of Type 1 diabetes - no insulin of course in those days. Fortunately she met my great-step grandfather and they later had two girls in Shropshire - one of which is Auntie E born 1921.

Anyway, the point is it wasn't as fun as I was expecting. Precisely because Auntie E wanted to present a more true picture for my sake than the normal glossy, idyllic representations we normally receive of our family's past, there were unexpected times when I felt Auntie E was being quite reticent. None of us knew that at the age of ten following rheumatic fever, Auntie E was taught at home by an 'irritable' woman for four years - effectively leaving school at ten. That her father was unemployed at the time of the depression. She doesn't particularly remember this time. That the war was the worst part of her life. And we didn't even get past 1948. Must write up the methodology.

Getting excited about Ewbank

2008-08-23T07:22:00.003+01:00

Not Chris, but my rechargeable motorised sweeper - the perfect thing for the stairs. Why hardly anyone else has cottoned on to this machine is beyond me. For those of us with weak arms - _ have now resigned myself to this - they are brilliant. You can still hoover - but not as much!

Why the Thatcherite monetarist experiment must end

2008-08-21T07:47:00.002+01:00

Despite the fantastic efforts of the Glasgow Media Group and nice people like Paul Foot - who gave me my only ever paid piece of journalistic work - the way the world is portrayed is still as an unkind, inflexible, harsh, capitalist greedy way. And most importantly of all - the world is presented inaccurately and in a totally misleading fashion. Gordon Brown's constant harping on about how he made the Bank of England independent now seems very much like urinating in strong central bank air vents. This was a policy he nicked from the Liberal Democrats anyway - I remember I voted for them in 1992 because my Economics A Level teacher was a fan. The point is the Bank of England is strictly required to keep inflation down. In fact, it's the only thing it has to do. But how stupid is that? Even if the Bank of England was in a vacuum with some Sterling and a vault there is no way that this one method would stop prices going up. Anyone with the slightest appreciation of science will know that the most infinitesimally small factors can influence the smallest of other, totally unrelated things. Yes, a huge high interest rate will undoubtedly stop people with large mortgages from dining out every second day, but the multiplier - the price elasticity of interest rates is not linear. Furthermore there are inflationary pressures which are absolutely nothing to do with wages or interest rates. Like the price of food for example. Apparently nobody could have predicted that having bizarre 'bio-fuel' targets would have increased the price of food across the world - making it a scarce commodity. Inflation occurs where there is a scarce resource - when productivity cannot be matched by demand. It is the greatest resource of all - human resource - that will bring new resources available to stop this human suffering. I have faith.

Anyway I have to stop writing now and go and fill in my timesheet.
If anything is deflationary it's filling in time sheets. Perhaps if Mervyn King was monitored to the same extent I am we wouldn't be in this situation.

Inspiration from above

2008-08-20T21:10:00.003+01:00

Not God in this particular example, but my new boss. I have been truly throroughly unlucky with bosses in the past. Bullies from actual Hell, the devil incarnate, nightmare freaks, power crazed maniacs, sexual harrassers extraordinaire, sack-happy capitalist gimps. The whole caboodle. So I was expecting the same again. A sort of dickhead, poorly educated, thinks they know best when they don't and talk to you like you're a crack-whore to their white rock pimp. I've always hated 'The Office' as I felt it was too realistic. That's what I was expecting. Couldn't be farther from the truth. My new boss is funny, openly gay which is very refreshing, VERY well educated and inspirational in his approach. For example, the place where I work (in my job which is the longer of the two I hold) has the highest childhood obesity rates in Europe. And some government big wigs critcised us a few months ago for not doing enough about it. Anyway, we are holding this event, and just about inviting anyone to it. There is a tendency in my line of work to just think about 'us'. And invite 'us' to something we need to work on. That's out of the window. We're inviting definite thems. We're inviting the police, architects and hippies. And getting them in a big circle. Police because of course if people are scared of playing in the park then they're going to get fat. Architects - because if you haven't incorporated bike sheds into a new build noone's going to cycle. And hippies - because a lot of them are thin. We need them to spread the thin vibe man. It might sound tame, but all this palaver is backed up by my new boss's academic credentials. Even the consultants he knows are impressive.

Anyway the problem is thus: Now I have finally, after approximately ten years, found a job I enjoy with people I like etc ad infinitum. But I live 250 miles away from it. Where I actually live, your luck's in if you've got a job that pays the minimum wage. To cut a long story short I have a job interview on Friday for a job that is HALF my current salary - for full time hours. And with worse terms and conditions - ie no sick pay, rubbish pension. Is the grass always that delicate shade of sage when you're so far away from it? And when you finally move to that lovely bit of chamomile grass you grew from seed, and you sit on it do you start to sink into the mud?

A complicated life

2008-08-08T20:38:00.004+01:00

C, who I live with in Stoke Newington you would think would have a more simple life than me. (Me - who commutes weekly to Leeds, just about managing to hold down two jobs, not particularly making a good hash of governor role, landladying and trying to do an MA. ) When in London I live with C, a brilliant vegetarian cook who quite frankly pampers me. Anyway the latest news from C is more interesting than anything I can offer. We live on a low rise Council Estate in Stoke Newington, built in the eighties I would guess. C's lived there for at least twenty years and knows even more people than I do in Stoke Newington. The latest scandal is that one of the women next door accused Dylan (C's cat) of poohing on her patio. Of course anyone who knows cats would know they would never pooh on a hard surface. And the woman on the other side saw squirrels in the patio, which confirmed C's suspicions as the pooh was also very small. But C dutifully cleaned it all up. The reason we are being very generous with this particular woman is that her partner of 18 years has just deserted her - for a Chinese woman he goes ballroom dancing with. The poor woman has been hounding other neighbours 'downstairs' where this guy used to hang out and chat about his car. The other lady on the other side is apparently seeing someone who is emotionally abusive towards her. C tackled her about this and said 'Don't you love yourself?' and the woman burst into tears. 'He's ugly' said C, telling it as it is. The woman agreed and said that that's what everyone else says. I asked C if she offers advice to her neighbours like she talks to me - recommending strap on accessories from Ann Summers - apparently men are not required. No, she says after about ten minutes when we have stopped laughing.

THIS is the age of the train

2008-07-24T20:49:00.002+01:00

Jimmy Saville was wrong about the 70s. Here I am watching the sunset, instantly publishing my own inspired record of the noughties, keeping in touch with all my friends and family at the click of a switch - and in silence - just about. (Some people abuse the 'quiet coach' system.)

Anyway so far tonight glided past the golden corn fields, watching a young boy cycle between the grooves, then past a park with a happy gang camping with a little camp fire. And the ubiquitous TOXIC then TOX graffitti tags as you come out of London. The clouds are their usual magnificent selves. Castles in the sky. The Gods shimmering and swimming away from the sapphire sun. Now it's a huge ball. Almost before my eyes it is sinking into the smoky turqouise clouds. And then the greens of the fields and trees start to merge as the darkness seeps in. And she's gone. The sun has set. Wherever we are at 9.04pm. Somewhere on the same lattitude as Birmingham but on the Norfolk side.

Anyway there we go. Another day lost. Personally I prefer sunrises.

Other more interesting news - I have managed to make 'Joint Strategic Needs Assessment' sound interesting enough to persuade people to come to a three hour meeting on it.

The trolley is not coming round due to 'staff shortages'. I bet in the 70s they didn't even have a trolley. I bet you couldn't get a chardonnay anywhere on a 1970s train. So we should be grateful that at least we can go to the bar.

London is like a ghost town. And this normally empty train is practically full. Everyone going on their 'eco-friendly' holidays to Doncaster. Obviously I'm devastated about having to go to Hong Kong and Bali for my summer holiday. I wonder how long a train trip would take to get there?

A few friends and rellys of ours have had the right idea. Escape the Western recession and emigrate to Asia - jobs, great standard of living, optimism. Qatar has the highest gDP in the world. India has the second fastest growing economy. Location Location Location. Job Job Job.

Bergertat

2008-07-22T14:09:00.002+01:00

Husband has a well deserved week off work. So we celebrated by holding a three day Bergerac Ironing Marathon. It was most enjoyable, I found myself one step ahead of Jim. The Green Goddess hiding diamonds in the sea - I cracked that before him. And the paedophile stalking young girls, cracked that a whole 47 minutes before Jim started asking to look at the photos. The second series is more dark, yet Jersey is still irrestible.

We saw Mamma Mia on Saturday and it was excellent. Silly but a definite feel good film.

Still can't read more than 2 pages at a time of Nelson Mandela's autobiography. I just find it so harrowing, disturbing and appalling. I'm reading the bit about prison food at the moment.

I'm also trying to get a 'well paid' job as we call it. It's not that I don't enjoy care work, it's very rewarding in fact. But, it's too physical. Unless I start putting two hours in at the gym a day to build up my muscle strength, I just can't do it longer than one morning a week. I think if it was men's work in the eyes of society it would be £45 an hour. You hear horror stories about people doing their back in. And already someone has fallen on me. It took two of us to get her back up again. Then there's the outrageous bean counting. We don't get paid travel time for example. And we're supposed to get people ready in the morning in less time than I allow myself. I give myself an hour and a half to get up, get washed, get dressed have a nice breakfast. People with multiple disabilities, can't walk unaided and long term health conditions, not to mention full commodes - they get 20 minutes.
And every one of them wants their care at 8am. But we have six people to get up. Someone will have to get up at 6.30 and someone at 10.30 - in fact it's on our rotas. But in the care plan it says 8am for everyone.
There isn't really a mystery to crack on this one. The culprit is the capitalist system.

But the rewards for the subliminal criminal are that you're really helping people, directly. Without the carers - paid and unpaid - of the world, humanity would collapse. It's just tough luck it's not financially rewarding too. As soon as men start to do the work, we'll see carers getting their just dessert.

My connection to Dizzee Rascal

2008-07-16T20:02:00.002+01:00

is that I believe I shared a bus with his girlfriend last night - the 73 to Islington from King's Cross. Anyway, I don't know why, but I suspect it's something to do with being ill so TV and music is about the only thing I've felt like doing, but I watched music TV channels for about 8 hours non stop yesterday. By the end of it I had about seven songs which I'd decided I liked - which I'd downloaded and was listening to on my IPOD. Very boring you might think. And yes, this story is pretty dull, but this is probably the closest I'll ever get to stardom, and it gets worse. Anyway I had learned that this nice young chap from London 1) was number 1 with his song Dance wiv me 2) liked girls - this was a highlight of his fame according to him at the O2 festival 3) also liked rock music which was another plus in his direction from yours truly. And basically I overheard this attractive young woman on the bus talk to a friend of hers on her mobile phone and the it went something like this:
"Well he said he was going to Kent, and then I found out he wasn't he was a party with some girls. And you know that dress I wore to Dizzee's party. The sort of slinky one? Well she had cut it all up? Yeah, you know what I mean? And then I said No way. Yeah I told him. And he was like begging me. He even bought me some jewellery you know. And I chucked it at him. Yeah. And I was like No. No, I haven't been in touch with him. I just sent him a text saying congratulations for staying at number one. Yeah Dizzee will probably be having another party. Yeah I'll talk to you soon." And she got off the bus, after I'd bamboozled my way next to her to sit down and eavesdrop more effectively.

I'm more effective as a restaurant spy.

Enjoying the beauty of nothing.

2008-07-14T14:01:00.004+01:00

One of the joys of meditation is that you actually start to enjoy nothing. It must be the ideal recreational activity for prisoners. Apart from that, also enjoying the nasturtiums which are about to come out, picking songs from the TV that I am going to listen to on my IPOD. Deciding that 'Hulk Knows Best' is the best programme on TV. Massage and aromatherapy.Cleaning the house. Not much of a blog entry, but I was fed up with talking myself into a recession. But the other things keeping me happy - so excited about a lovely present I have bought for a very special young S. And a real life prospective Dr Blag has achieved just that - and I know who she is! And she's not Blaglady - who has started her blog again. Phil thought Margaret Thatcher had died. Anyway the point is, it's not all bad news. You've just got to Blagg out the goods on this blogging lark.

How do you stop a recession?

2008-07-09T20:35:00.003+01:00

The recession is imminent. One of our best friends is a corporate property lawyer. She bought a house a couple of months ago - and right at the last minute the mortgage company were trying to pull the plug on the deal. Can you imagine if that is happening to someone earning whatever corporate property lawyers earn, and someone doing corporate property law for a living - what the hell is it like out there for any old person trying to buy a house with a mortgage? Husband keeps on saying to me, 'I don't know why you give two hoots about the FTSE'. The point is it's the best indicator to the economy we've got. And if it falls by 20% then we're in a bear market that nearly always will lead to recession. If you think about being Chief Executive of say, Marks and Spencer, and suddenly your value and your company's value is reduced by 20% - what do you do? Well there's a few options. The first one though is retract - consolidate, reduce your expansion plans - and a few seconds after that you think about cost savings you're going to make. Labour is the biggest cost. So you start laying people off. It's already happening in housing, finances. Not long before everything else follows. And perhaps even worse than recession is what we thought had vanished from the 70s - stagflation. Massive inflation - this time caused by rising oil and food prices - and rising unemployment.

Anyway the good news is I now have more ideas for an MA dissertation, that could actually be less depressing than the history of dementia. The history of stagflation - what caused it in the 1970s? What caused the UK 'credit crunch'? Will the 'credit crunch' see a resurgence for economic history?

Inventions by Tattontastic

2008-07-05T16:27:00.003+01:00

I have several ideas for inventions
1) Having specifically chosen interval music on Sky plus - something other than the 3 tracks you're forced to listen to.
2) An ironing machine. I personally wouldn't mind paying at least a thousand pounds for this machine. Like a washing machine, but it irons. You shove all the clothes in and then in 3 hours it's all ironed.
3) Grand Theft Auto - the movie. Perhaps not with a bloke as the main character, but an Eastern European woman, who is one of the trafficked prostitutes he kills.
4) Recycling rubbish boxes made out of recycled rubbish - we currently have six bins for recycling and rubbish, none of which have been recycled out of anything.
5) Yorkshirefoodie.com - the website. Not only for looking up decent places to eat in this beautiful, yet foodie-virginal county, but decent shops, delis, off licences, farmers markets revewed. Strictly no advertising or sponsorship. Perhaps there could be a bit on the website devoted to combining nice food with other activities - eg cycling, climbing, camping, music and running. One has to get rid of all this flab one is building up when food is the main hobby. Perhaps if I get some web training I could do this last one myself. But can you be a carless yorkshire foodie?
6) The human dynamo - a machine which is powered by the human body which then powers and charges other batteries - the AA type or perhaps even larger ones. So you exercise and charge your stuff at the same time. There could be a human bike dynamo, an arms and legs one, and perhaps one that you attach to your bike when you're out and about, perhaps one that works when you jog or walk.

Striving for consensus

2008-07-03T11:18:00.002+01:00

I'm feeling quite a lot better now, although pneumonia takes it out of you more than you think. I've been ill for nearly three weeks and haven't had much energy to do anything. But the good news is I'm currently cancer free. Had a CT scan yesterday. The doctors want to make sure in someone like me that pneumonia isn't hiding cancer. Knowing that you have at least a few weeks to play with in life expectancy terms gives one a sudden zest. And how will I change my path in life? Not much is the answer to that. Of course if anyone dies at 35 it's basically too early. But why? Well, I haven't had children yet, haven't contributed that much to academic thought, haven't contributed that much to politics or seen my creative ideas published. Children is probably the easiest one there. Academic thought I'm working on. But politics is the tricky one. I have so many unachievable aims and priorities. Free education for all. Free social care for all. And I could go on. Even those two are incompatible. How do you prioritise? Free social care is probably cheaper than free education. Then there's the ongoing privatisation of the NHS. My great friend Gill George is working on that. But it's her versus the great armies of the state. People think that it doesn't matter who provides care. Codswallop. When a care worker, working for a private care company, is told 'It doesn't matter what you say, you're employed by the private company. We don't have any control over you'. And then how do you defend one's views? Through violent means? Hopefully not. But definitely not? Nelson Mandela used violent means when push came to shove.
Anyway, I don't think politics is the way forward for me. It's too frustrating, about money and I don't see eye to eye with anyone on anything. The reason I picked dementia as a topic to study was because I saw it as a topic on which there could be political consensus. We don't want to see people with dementia suffer unnecessarily. We don't want to see their carers suffer. And this is ironic, because my favourite tutor at college, Michael Kandiah who is a Tory historian argues that the 1950s age of consensus didn't exist. Perhaps what Michael doesn't realise is how depressed you can get if you're always arguing with everyone, on the margins, when the general public are deluded buffoons. So consensus and progress seem attractive. It's nice to be nice to the nice.

Poetry Muse Detective

2008-07-01T11:19:00.003+01:00

Randall and Hopkirk- Deceased
Agatha Christie - dominates
Bergerac - non drinker
Dempsey - Makes peace
Poirot - pontificates
Quincey - moralises
Murders - dialled, diagnosed in midsummer

Why hasn't Anthonys in Leeds got a Michelin Star?

2008-06-27T17:42:00.002+01:00

The other night we celebrated me not being that ill from pneumonia by going out for dinner at Anthony's in Leeds. We've been meaning to go for quite a while, since trying other restaurants which had been recommended by word of mouth to us which were frigging awful. This place, our 'social network' had told us, was not worth going to. So I enthusiastically booked it. We're also enthusiastic converts to 'molecular gastronomy', aka foam. El Bulli allegedly started this off - the World's number one restaurant. And as I learned from the web, chefs at Anthony's were trained at El Bulli.
Aesthetically, I have to say it is stuck somewhere in the early nineties. Those, what have to be considered now revolting brown leather high backed chairs, with matching brown oil paintings, which looked like they were picked up on Ebay. Husband quite liked the velvet underskirt of the tablecloth, I felt a bit like a footballer's wife. The restaurant is in the basement which is a questionable marketing technique. There was no natural light to appreciate the colour of one's plate. Our first encounter with the wine list was not as good as such an experience should be. As we both wanted the taster menu (which can't be that unusual) I was expecting, like at other expensive establishments, that we would have a recommended glass of whatever for each - or every other- course. This was one of the most blinding experiences on honeymoon in the Loire- the Vouvray perfectly matched the Foie gras for example. But nothing was specifically recommended. So we settled for a Sancerre and Fleurie for simplicity's sake.
We weren't given a menu of what we had chosen, until the end.
But the food was impressive. We had eight courses. I love small, numerous courses. The first course, pig cheek - nice but should it have been the first course? For the first course you want something refreshing which cleans the palate, not the heaviest, richest dish on the menu. That was a mistake. The second course was marvellous - risotto in expresso foam. You wouldn't think this would go, but it was delectable, the cheesey parmesan contrasting with the foamy and bitter coffee and succulent grains of rice. Too much of it if anything though - but this is Yorkshire. Then a wonderfully diverse course. And I could hear Gordon Ramsey shouting down my ear as I devoured it - How many flavours on one plate? I disagree with his bulliness on this. He says one can only take about four flavours at once. Anyway this course was duck (such dainty slices, microscopic) tobacco rhubarb, avocado. And there were grapefruit flecks. It looked a picture. The tastes were divine, there were more than four. And refreshing. It's a dream come true when one looks at a plate and thinks ' should I eat that?'. I didn't want to disturb a work of art. Then there were two fish courses, better if anything or at least on a par. Again the slitherist of slices of ox tongue with tuna and horseradish. Gorgeous. Followed by Red Mullet, filo crab sandwich and passion fruit foam. Divine. The Lamb dish which followed was perhaps again too quantative but delicious. Then two desserts - cucumber and cheese cannelloni. Nice. And apple pork and sage (parfait, filo and icecream) respectively. Lovely. But the cheeseboard was perhaps the highlight of the evening. There were about 30 cheeses to choose from - they had their own menu. We picked seven. You could pick eleven or thirteen. Then they went off and printed our own little cheese menu. So I've got a little list here if ever I want to get our favourites - bit of a problem as they all were. They were served on a thin long platter with plenty of accompaniments, nice breads, pickle and grapes. It was a perfect finish.

I think if they improved the wine selection, training for the sommelier, order of the taster menu and ambience of the place then it wouldn't be just deserving of one Michelin star but two. And at two hundred pounds for what was a great example of Northern creative genius - worth every penny.

Why hasn't a feature film been made about cats?

2008-06-27T11:52:00.002+01:00

Quite often, especially when watching films with Russell Crowe in them, I think that I would rather watch a film with my cats as the leading roles. They are highly amusing and one wonders how much one influences one's pets, in much the same way as one wonders how much one's parents has influenced one. Today we had a bit of a drama. Marmite had brought in a blackbird chick which Trotsky then pounced on and Phil eventually saved in a tupperware sandwich box, releasing it to the relative freedom of next door's sycamore, which it apparently flew into with ease, so another happy ending. The yanks would love it.

There's nothing that could happen that hasn't happened

2008-06-25T09:21:00.005+01:00

Perhaps when I've done my MA I will write stories of the lives of people who I have been in dreams:
1) A happy North African boy aged 11 in the sixteenth century close to his smiling father
2) An unhappy young Caribbean woman trapped by her aunt looking after chickens at the turn of the century
3) A Nazi soldier running down a sunsoaked avenue shot dead, after hunting for someone, in a canal overlooked by warehouses
4) An old Greek intellectual who loves talking in the shade of the pillars overlooking a grass running track
5) A ginger haired German student studying philosophy at the Sorbonne in the 1820s
6) A crazy and depressed unhappily married French rich woman who doesn't like leaving her bedroom, with lots of jewelry
7) A Russian tenement child from a violent relationship

Practicing what you preach

2008-06-13T20:12:00.003+01:00

For almost two years now I've been 'meditating', or what I think is meditating on a daily basis. And I've been teaching people how to do it everywhere I go. Basically you breathe in through your nose on a count of one to ten, breathing out through your mouth saying calm.

To cut a long story short, it works. I was going to precede that with a long moan about all the things that went wrong today, but because I feel calm-ish after meditating for hours, I won't bother and I'll go and make myself a cup of decaff tea.

Anti-capitalist rant

2008-06-10T08:47:00.002+01:00

No, not from me believe it or not, but from the Bishop of St Albans. We visited our lovely friends who are on the verge of becoming parents any second, and I did the honourable thing and attended Church with them on Sunday. Watching Bewitched. Had forgotten how good it is. Note to self. Get it on DVD.

There's no such thing as coincidence

2008-06-06T18:38:00.002+01:00

Was about to prove everyone right and resign from my new role this morning. One particular client and her carer urgently needed reassessing in my opinion. Anyway I reported this to the Physiotherapist, the Community Matron and to the private company I now work for. By lunchtime they had a new house. Champagne cocktails all round.

Picking your battles

2008-06-02T09:38:00.002+01:00

It was the first day of my new job as a Domiciliary Care Worker yesterday and so far, so good. I was the delighted recipient of so many horror stories prior to the start so the fact that I didn't come across one morsel of excrement was a matter of great elation on my part. I had forgotten how well I get on with older people, and they appreciate the attention, generally have very good humour and one is generally contributing to the overall improvement of humanity which can't be sniffed at. The other thing which I hadn't truly appreciated is that you are more or less your own boss. There isn't some ogre of a manager inspecting your every move, which is a great pleasure, something I am shocked to say I haven't ever experienced before. The person I was shadowing though, told me that I really needed to shadow her this evening at 7, as there is a particular client who, apparently once you can look after her, you can do anything. So this is the real test.

Other news, I am supposed to be completing another application as we speak. My excuse this time is that I'm too depressed. Heroin is still a problem in my home town, as it probably is everywhere, however, my coping mechanism to pretend it isn't didn't work at the weekend as we had a little visit there. And then they had some numbchuck from 'Migration Watch' on the Today Programme which was preceeded by a debate on commodity prices which didn't mention the levels of speculation, followed by a debate about Care for the Elderly which is not examining how to pay for it. That's the problem. The thing that upsets me about politics isn't so much what happens, it's the feeling of absolute powerlessness. And the today programme exemplifies this. People get misleading, uninformed claptrap and then they're expected to make the right decisions. If you start off with some good information, then we might not get Boris as Mayor, or an increase in BNP seats. And that's another thing making me depressed. The BNP has infiltrated one of my favourite websites -'Daily Mail Watch'. What can you do? Actually nothing. If you're a left leaning liberal pacifist champagne anarcho feminist socialist like myself, then you can either 1) have an argument with them 2) Tell them to shut up. I prefer option 2, but then everyone bleats off about free speech. And then I start thinking well actually it is better when they shut up. Perhaps I'm not in favour of free speech. So after all that I'm thinking I'm a communist and I'm going to move to Venezuela. I mentioned it to my life coach - how do you pick your battles? She said pick ones you can win. Application form vs Heroin Addiction vs Fascism vs moving to Venezuela . Application every time.

Mistress of Reinvention

2008-05-29T20:40:00.002+01:00

No, not Madonna. Moi. Yes I am now officially a 'Care Worker'. My friends are laying bets on how long I will manage to stay in employment in this capacity. Odds on for 5 seconds. You can get quite good odds apparently for me going back in time and retracting my application, so I will actually be employed for a time period in negative terms. I'm exaggerating slightly. Everyone's almost as thrilled for me as when I got engaged (not). Seriously, I'm looking forward to it slightly, in the same way one has a sort of nervous expectation when going to collect the newspaper in the rain. To be honest, they've already singled me out for a sacking probably - I was the only person who read our job contracts, they were actually trying to employ us as office workers. I have another new boss who I get on with very well, that's in my other job that I'm more keen on keeping. Astute readers will notice that this blog has tried to clean up its act recently. Patricia Hewitt in particular has had an easy time lately (or perhaps that's because she's retired, or should I say gone into consultancy with BT on £60k per annum for 1 day a week). Anyway, the new boss who I get on very well with has a lot of journalistic experience, so I'm hoping to nick some of his creative asperge. (A French word which probably doesn't exist but not knowing any French couldn't think of a good one to put in there). Apparently he takes four weeks to think of an idea and then takes 2 hours to write it into a six hundred word article. I'm the other way round. I get two million ideas per minute, then have to try and make it at least palletable over weeks. I'm my own worst editor and consequently delete a lot of rubbish. Even my new boss doesn't earn any money from it.

Other news, we had a marvellous meal at the Boxtree on Tuesday for our anniversary meal. It was bargain basement prices (compared to London anyway) superb, great service. It has made me want to try 'Anthony's' in Leeds. Our word of mouth reviews (who quite frankly are useless) said it was rubbish and overpriced. But the Good Food Guide put it in the top twenty in the Uk, so we'll have to go there soon. (They said the Boxtree was good). Our 'word of mouth' reviews recommended this 'all meals under the sun on one plate and as much as you can eat' place in Leeds, which Phil took me to. I lasted two nano seconds. I preferred the taste of my own vomit. And, as all my friends have been informing me, that, as well as the smell -and feel, if not taste - of excrement is something I will be having to get used to over the coming weeks. And these people get the minimum wage. It's an Outrage. If only Tony Harrison was a trade union rep. [Mum: You probably haven't seen it, but he's the pink octopus Shaman on the BAFTA awardwinning comedy The Mighty Boosh written by Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt]

One year ago!

2008-05-19T14:41:00.002+01:00

It is of course our wedding anniversary - first year today and what a beautiful day. Just like last year and a gorgeous sunny day, to match the husband. The horsechestnut is out with the laburnum and some cowparsley (in Leeds it's much greener). Even the Tories and Labour are agreeing on the embryology bill, with both Dave and Gordy recommending to their MPs to support it, so things couldn't be better.
People keep on saying 'Hasn't it gone quick?'. Well, when a lot of things happen at once somehow Time slows down a bit. One day someone will prove that. In the meantime I'm enjoying the slow/fast pace of change after a generally brilliant year. Husband is sleeping at the moment (night shift) and I'm cooking later - he has a stressful appraisal tomorrow and we're going for our celebratory meal after that. Just can't wait to properly move to Leeds. Fingers crossed I enjoy/can afford the job I've got! We've made friends with our neighbours and I might pop round in a minute to show them the wedding album.

Things which cheer me up when writing an essay

2008-05-06T09:59:00.003+01:00

1) Tidy up papers
2) Read through what you've written
3) Look at Bibliography
4) Constantly update wordcount
5) Have a cup of tea
6) Know that you totally disagree with 90% of everything you've written but you are just trying to pass
7) Delete a lot, especially 6)
8) Write a lot of lists
9) Remember an essay is just a long list
10) Remember life is a very long list
11) Break a list down into doable chunks
12) Read through stuff you wrote that got high marks. If you can't do that meditate for 5 minutes.
13) Remember that a good essay is an indulgent bit of praise for whoever's marking it. If you don't agree with a word they say, then politely don't mention that.
14) Remember the purpose of an essay is to pass whatever it is you are doing. You can change the world later.
15) Compare yourself with Che Guevara rather than Tony Blair on these sorts of occasions - Che passed his exams and changed the world later. Tony did worse than his wife and later messed up things a lot. In other words, just pass. You can realign with your principles at a later date.
16) You are a trainee. Failing won't get you anywhere.

17) Stop procrastinating.

Procrastination

2008-05-05T20:42:00.004+01:00

One of my best friends described herself as a procrastinator at a large event a couple of months ago. I put it down to depression on her part. Then I thought about this and thought to myself that I am a lot worse. To cut a long story short, which is my favourite phrase apart from anyway, I have to write an essay by Friday. And to be honest 1) I am not enjoying it 2) it's not very good 3) I can't do it. So I thought I would write my blog. When did I stop being able to write good essays? How come I don't own any books about how to do it? Why have all the people who helped me died? What's the point of pointless thoughts like that last one? It wasn't true anyway. Only one of them has, well, two.
Anyway, the point is, the key to a good essay is a good essay plan. But if you have a poor essay plan - what then? I seem to have decreased in the rate of words I write. At christmas time I was writing about 1000 words a day. Now it's 500 and they're all rubbish.
I don't know the cure for procrastination. Probably medical training. Except even my husband is apparently renowned for being a faffer. So there we have it. Faff. It's a word, I just need more of them that make sense, in the right place. At the right time. Writ for Porpoise.

Bring down the borders

2008-04-26T11:09:00.005+01:00

Politics (and birdwatching) would be so dull if you took the people out of it. I felt cheered by an informal political chat I then had at lunch with some colleagues. One rookie new guy was saying he shared George W Bush's view that capitalism would solve the climate change problems. After that he said that he thought Overpopulation was the problem. C and I are always having this debate. There's too many people in the world (they say). The population is too large. The world can't support it. We must stop the Indians/Chinese/Blacks/hispanic/other discriminated group from reproducing. But we need to encourage the 'indigenous' white population to reproduce.

Going back to my lunch yesterday, for almost the first time in my life I found myself winning the argument against this Malthusian, racist claptrap. A world population could fit into a country the size of Switzerland (7bn) and this would have the same density as Manhattan. Even better we could squeeze into Texas and have four times as much space per person. This would allow all the other space in the world - South America, Europe, most of North America, Africa and Australia to be dedicated to agricultural land or whatever we wanted, thus no food shortages.

I kicked off the debate because the price of rice doubled overnight on Wednesday. They can't even get it in Ghana. The biofuel targets must stop and we need to bring down the borders and allow people to escape starvation. I wrote to Diane Abbott.

Perhaps I was in a good mood, the sort of mood that is ok about starting political arguments, as prior to this debate I had found myself cornered yesterday by one of my favourite colleagues as this person confided in me, swearing me to absolute secrecy, that they were going to leave the union we are both in. The person then launched into a minute by minute account of some union event with other union members they had attended. I found myself giggling and then laughing at loud, at the unconfidential nature of this top-secret news I was getting. The person then said to me 'You're not taking me seriously are you?'. At which point, I said 'It's your wit, you say funny things. ' The person carried on.

We were walking along in much the same vein and then suddenly the person said 'Oh Look at that blackbird'. And there before our eyes was this huge black bird with large white flecks on its head. The person peered over and moved closer, in much the same way I would expect Bill Oddie to. I was thinking to myself - Wow, an ornithological genius in our midsts, this rare species is going to be identified. After some inspection she came back to me, saying 'Yes it's a very old blackbird' ...(I was already laughing) 'Or a big blackbird with paint splattered on its head.'

Geriatastic

2008-04-19T09:43:00.005+01:00

We had an absolutely amazing holiday just recently - a series of mini-breaks including a stay in Birmingham, culminating in two nights at 'Burgh Island' - the only hotel with its own island. It is where Agatha Christie found inspiration for a couple of her books - 'Evil Under the Sun', which I managed to get a 'facsimile' copy of on our way there and 'Ten little Niggers' - a facsimile copy of that was not available. Funnily enough. I did find out that the title of that book was only changed to 'And then there were none' in 1980! And reading Agatha'a autobiography I found that one of her early collections of short stories was called 'Anna the Adventuress'. It is quite striking reading this account from the First Lady of Crime Writing how little has changed . Anyway I put any decent views I had to one-side for the weekend and soaked up the opulence, sun, sea and sand. Although it was freezing as husband will testify - he actually swam in the sea and I've got digital photographic evidence.

Now I've actually decided to go part-time almost enjoying writing a history of geriatrics at the moment. All the time I'm thinking 'Why didn't this happen earlier?'. It's just not the done thought or thing for historians. They all seem to think and write 'Oh brilliant at least it happened then'. I am trying to turn more Whiggish. Reading Agatha Christie helps. There's a famous Randy Newman song about it.

Anyway, more positive news.
The garden is coming on, S's father is helping us navigate freecycle to get rid of the washing machine. Have a brilliant life coach (another thing apart from getting rid of cancer for me that the NHS has given me). Am on my way out of London. The spare room is lovely with a beautiful room length library spanning a whole wall. Another dinner party tonight - my favourite dish, Lamb Rosemary and Orange.

Family things every so often

2008-04-08T18:29:00.003+01:00

One of the reasons we picked Leeds as a place to live is because my brother lives here. I was thinking it was a pretty rubbish reason to move somewhere, but lately I've decided it's an ok reason. We had an in-laws party yesterday and it worked surprisingly well. We cooked of course, the computer entertained and the other humans drank a bit. All of the brothers, mine included were making each other, myself included, laugh. The cat locator was got out, after we got bored (or should I say they?) of the Nintendo Wii ( I do recommend Golf) and the Playstation 3 (I don't recommend Call of Duty 4). My brother gave me a number of a gardener who can do hard landscaping and husband's brother gave his verdict on Trotsky's missing leg fur. We had the obligatory arguments of course - is Mark Ronson a rubbish guitarist for example. Overall though everyone was on good behaviour. Husband has got man flu which may account for this civilised account. I was discussing as well the benefits of a brother as opposed to sister - of course it means he can do all the mail bonding palavar and I don't have to worry as much about the female bonding, especially these days when being camp is so much in fashion with every man and his dog, literally, being able to cook Toad in the Hole up to professional standards.
It's surprising how we managed to do all this and the shopping and go on a narrowboat in Skipton. Particularly entertaining, apart from brothers and us women was the story of 'Often Eddie' from Skipton. He used to get paid sixpence each way apparently to tow a barge down a particularly dangerous bit of canal, where they didn't want to waste a horse as they were more precious than humans. People used to ask him how often he towed the barge each day and he just used to say 'Often' so they couldn't calculate how much he was earning.

Breast cancer survivors against page three

2008-03-24T09:44:00.002Z

There was an excellent article in the Guardian on Thursday - 'Why we love to hate Heather Mills'. And it got me thinking why in the twenty-first century we still have porn on the shelves that children can access. So I'm going to set up a new campaign group and target Rebekka Wade.

At least five amazing things

2008-03-23T13:32:00.002Z

I suspect my tactics have been realised on this blog. Write a short list of Five Amazing Things when struggling. When feeling better can write more. One has to keep one's blog as positive as possible for about three reasons: 1) so one doesn't get sacked 2) so one's parents, friends and relatives do not get offended 3) so not to sound depressed, bitter, jealous or other negative state and thus getting everyone worried.
Feeling much more upbeat recently. Not feeling nauseous for about the first time in a month. Working the day before a long bank holiday weekend is actually quite fun. Arrived at work early on Thursday and even the commissioners were in a good mood. They smiled. The bike shed was empty. I still love cycling of course. And as it was empty I managed to fit the padlock which I've been meaning to do for months.
Anyway I'm turning into a Whig historian. It's a bit like admitting you're posh. True, inevitable and you might get bullied by people like you for saying it. The fact is pessimists (non Whigs) are more depressed. The real reason I'm emerging into my new Whiggish self (apart from the fact it chimes with my hairstyle) is that I failed one of my assignments. I need to resubmit a more upbeat and well written version.

On Wednesday had a brilliant careers day at the Institute of Historical Research where I'm doing my MA. I was pretty much dreading it, thinking it would make me think how rubbish my career is. The opposite occurred. I was in the upper age bands so somewhat on a par with those on the podium. One of the last things said by one of the speakers was that we could do a post graduate diploma in journalism.
I have one of these things. Ha ha I thought.

Mum held her Equinox celebrations yesterday. Poetry and music and thoroughly enjoyable. It's the hippy equivalent of a Christmas party. It seems to be everyone's birthday around now too and went hunting for birthday books yesterday. Found some and also bought two Lennon biographies as treat for self. Have dipped into them both and just made me regret his death.

Had another letter through from the hospital confirming the embryos are still there. Husband and I are already discussing whether to send them to private school or not. Then I said, I can't believe we're having this discussion before they're conceived. He said they are conceived. So we carried on. He's Yah, I'm nay. My argument is that the money is better spent on their university and postgraduate education, not to mention deposit for house. His argument is a private education is better.

Pleased with Barack Obama's race speech. But less pleased there isn't much news about it. V excited that a certain person has got on the shortlist for Dragons Den. Trying to remain calm and hard nosed about that. And there's at least one place in heaven for another associate of mine. Talking of heaven, I often think of light as the equivalent, and was told a lovely story of a certain little girl who's been told that someone close to her is now a star.

Five Amazing things

2008-03-03T19:03:00.001Z

1) Loving husband
2) Pregnant friends
3) Happy mothers
4) playful cats
5) blonde hair

Five Amazing Things

2008-02-19T18:29:00.002Z

1) Parents.
2) Surrogate Parents
3) Pets
4) Dishwasher
5) Other people and also friends. Living a simple life (which includes 4)

The key way to look at disappointment - as an opportunity

2008-02-18T18:02:00.003Z

My Dad gave a lecture a few years ago when he said that the Chinese word for crisis is the same as opportunity.

Things happen in life. You can have an interpretation of the past, an occurrence or experience that may be negative. It may have a poor outcome, you may see it as a mistake. You might regret it. Perhaps it was a bad experience. You may have disagreed. It could be an unresolved issue. Something you didn't want and it scuppered your high expectations.

So why not have a revised view of the present and future? You've an opportunity to blossom. You can be very specific about what you want. Be realistic, do something you can achieve. You can change the situation, alter your expectations maybe. You can change direction and have new experiences. Above all , ENJOY.