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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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?

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?