Moved on

I've moved to mavisdee.wordpress.com.

Eternal youth

The simplest way to avoid looking or feeling old is to spend time only with people older than yourself. It's easy.

My parents are kicking 80 and so their longest serving friends are of a similar age. One of these friends got married recently and their circles were all a-mutter about this flighty young thing that was marrying one of them.

Indeed. She was a mere 65 years of age at the time of marriage.

This totally inspires me. When I am 65 I fully intend to be surrounded by 80 year olds that see me as a slip of a girl.

My recent job involved my visiting of a lot of retired people. They made me feel youthful and it was rather nice. One woman exclaimed "oh you're a young girl! I was expecting someone older" and when  I'd checked all around me and established that she did in fact mean me as there was nobody else to be seen, I was immensely flattered. Had I been younger I'd have probably been offended but I'll take that.

I have noticed my own lack of lines compared to my peers. Well, apart from the Line of Disdain that I've ironied into my forehead. It's where you crease when you sarcastically raise your eyebrows. The look that accompanies "really???!!'". I have a fringe, I don't have crow's feet.

So to recap, to remain young, simply don't smile, and hang out with old people. Who are generally brilliant anyway and you could always try and distract them so the don't vote. Do your bit for the country and all.

The dumb blondes jokes make more sense if you consider that it is the very, very young and the getting-on-a-bit dyed blondes that have blonde hair. The haven't learned it yet, versus the forgotten it all.

Supposedly sleep is good for maintaining youthfulness. I can't possibly comment.

Deep fried cow

I've been arguing with a friend a bit about being a vegan. Yes, really, hard it may be to comprehend me being argumentative, but yes. And even more astonishingly, this argument is on Facebook. Shocks abound!

Anyshoes...

At this point in my life I eat pretty much everything. Mostly pizza at the moment, but the important thing is that my diet contains dairy, fish, dairy, meat and dairy. There's nothing missing. In the several decades that have passed since this blog began (all of its own accord, I rarely have control) I have gone through eating no meat (I'd say vegetarian but I never - NEVER - gave up jelly babies) at all, past not eating fish, through a brief hiatus on dairy (very brief, because cheese).

         NB I know that's not good grammar. I am On The
         Pulse but I feel the need to say that I KNOW.

I have no idea what I wrote here previously on the subject of NEVER EATING FISH and MEAT IS AWFUL. It was then and I was younger then and I have very little in the way of remembering what I thought and what I actually wrote down and nobody from then still reads it (apart from you, of course, but you are insane AND imaginary).

Now I think we probably all ought to be more or less vegetarian. Not completely, and by that I don't mean "oh I'm a vegetarian but I eat fish because they are not sentient and I'm a moron", I mean eat a little meat, from good sources, and some fish, that's sustainable, occasionally, but to have a primarily vegetarian diet.

That's my crap version of being a vegetarian where you cheerfully eat gelatine and rennet containing foods and the odd portion of black pudding or haggis. (Neither are meat as you'd know it so when you are vegetarian because meat makes you boke, they are fine. And black pudding is a superfood, which was the best news ever, ever).

These tangents are being terribly invasive today. It's 6pm so I don't have the free mind and writing prowess of 3am, but neither do I have the self hatred, feelings of persecution or depression that appear at that time. I'm simply procrastinating just now.

Back to the animals. Awww. Cute things. We shouldn't hurt them unnecessarily and I'm generally not in favour of sacrificing animals or people or anything really in the name of maximum profit.

So in this ideal world, we only eat small amounts of good welfare sustainable meat and fish. Or if you  must, no meat or fish at all.

However, if we are being saints, we would also not do any of the following:

- drive a car
- wear clothes made by badly paid children
- own items made by badly paid children
- pay children badly
- wear leather shoes
- throw anything in the bin
- shop at many places, including Amazon
- have needless materialistic possessions
- ever eat a McDonalds or drink Coke or in fact give any money to The Man at all.

There's lots of other things, mostly exploitation to give us cheap crap, or vanity, or Big Money talking.

Are you still here? Well done you.

Anyway. I could keep going on that train of ponder for a long time. I shall attempt to disembark at the point shortly.

There's a number of documentary things doing the rounds that tell you that all food which isn't vegan is bad for you, and for the animals, and for the planet, and yada yada, spread the word, shout about it, and it's almost as scary as the predominately Muslim society we now have.

Breathe.

So I don't think we should be vegan. Not just because I'm currently an omnivore. That's me being crap, just as I eat in McDonalds, shop in Primark and basically keep Amazon in business. No, because I don't believe it is healthy or right. A diet which relies on supplements is not a nutritionally complete diet. And supplements are the stuff of many hideous things that are epitomised by (shudder) Holland and Barratt.

I was curious as to where the non plant vitamins that are in supplements come from. Dr Google tells me that they come from bacteria. So not technically vegan then.

Yes I know. They're only bacteria. Fla fla fla. Vegetarians (real ones)  get in a schtoomie over cochineal beetles so maybe we should care about bacteria. Don't dismiss them the way you all dismiss fish.

I love fish. We have pet fish. I object to the lack of fish love people have. Yes, I am sad when a fish dies. Yes, I think mass fishing is cruel and not just because of the (awww) dolphins. I can only eat fish if it has been filleted and bears no resemblance to the fish. I'm crap, yes, I do mostly eat fish because it's good for me rather than a genuine desire for it. Also the fish van man stops specifically outside my door and I feel bad if I don't buy from him.

I make a lot of excuses.

The cuteness thing reminds me of one of the vegan videos I've seen, where the person was asserting that the reason we eat dead cows and not dead kittens is that we have been conditioned to eat meat. No, actually, in the West we have been conditioned not to eat cute things and we happen to think kittens are cute.

I don't like being bombarded with things. I unconnectedly HATE Michael Moore, although I generally agree with what he says. I don't like his sensationalist approach. He doesn't promote veganism as far as I know, he promotes being decent, but I hate his way.

Relevantly, in contrast, I won't be going vegan any day soon. Maybe vegetarian again, but that was meant to start this week and I accidentally had a McDonalds breakfast today.
Diet starts tomorrow.

         *****irony klaxon*****

Autumnal ponders

Hello dear imaginary reader.

It's been almost a year again. I expect Blogger probably has no actual readers now. It's just imaginary me and imaginary you floating around in a corner of cyberspace pretty much ignoring each other. Or maybe we are friends and we meet for virtual coffee regularly and chat about what's been going on in the last year.

I am real however, not virtual, but I can't actually prove that.

Indeed.

Shall we talk about cheese?

Cheese is good. For some reason when I type that I end up typing "food" instead of "good" which makes out I'm at toddler level of observations.

But it is true to say that cheese is good. All cheese, except Wensleydale. Wensleydale tastes wrong and it is often riddled with fruit. Fruit has its place and that place is not in cheese. Nor is it on my pizza, which is a fruit free place. There's so many things you can put on a pizza and there is no need to forfeit any of them and then replace it with fruit.

Cheese of the day is...

Cheddar. Oft overlooked and damned good.

So that's all. I had a gazillion good things to write in a blog yet when I got here it had all gone to sleep. I'll see if it wants to come and be shared another day. Maybe next year.

The things people say

Generally members of the public are fairly polite. They don't pass comment on personal things and tend to err on the side of pleasant when they do comment. Also, they don't usually speak to total strangers just because they can.

Unless you're pregnant or have just had a baby on which case it is deemed entirely appropriate for strangers to comment on your age/size/bump/number of children and subsequently comment on your baby as to whether they think they are big/small/the right or wrong gender. My daughter was a month early and so it was obligatory to comment on her smallness. More than one person asked me on all seriousness if she was in fact a doll.

Medical conditions are apparently a free for all generally. Nothing seems to be quite as hilarious as an eye patch. Tee her, eye injuries are such a laugh. Pirate jokes are always welcome. How about a stookie, or crutches, or other visible malady? Clearly anyone would want to discuss their medical history with total strangers.

We have a dog; he is a greyhound, a large greyhound at that, and yes, he's a big dog. He comes on the school run occasionally and almost every child who claps eyes on him comments on his size. Which is fine. What is weird is adults saying to me in a slightly disapproving manner that he's so big. Or they say to him "aren't you a big boy?" to which he responds with a hopeful sniff for a treat and not much else, being, as he is, a dog.

I'm not sure how people in the public eye cope with open questions being asked by everyone of them.   It's appalling the way people cast assumptions about people and why they are single, or childless, or why they dared to go to the post office without wearing full makeup.

Having said all that, I do worry about that which I don't say, but which may be written all over my face due to what I am thinking.  You don't actually know exactly what your face is giving away. What shows on your face when someone is wearing way too much perfume and you're breathing it in?  When you see someone and are racking your brain to remember who you know that wears glasses just like them? Or your desperately trying to remember their name or even how you know them? When someone says or does something pretty innocuous but that happens to be a pet peeve (like bad grammar, for example)? When it is really important you don't offend someone but they say something actually awful?

I think this may be another ex smoker thing. When you are smoking your face has something to do. When left to its own devices, your face can get you into a whole heap of trouble.

Of course for some people, they just blurt out what occurs to them. I suppose they don't have to worry  about such trivialities as being misunderstood or inadvertently doing anything.

It's that time again

Woo. Autumn has officially started, yesterday in fact.

This makes me happy. It makes me happy every year as we rid ourselves of  the insect-fest that is late summer and the utterly insane declaration of "it's an Indian Summer" every time the sun shines for more than ten minutes on any day after the official Last Barbeque of the Year has taken place. And of course that is coupled with the perpetual moan of having to put the heating on due to the half a degree drop of the ambient internal temperature.

On that topic, I do embrace the onset of winter slightly more favourably in our nice brand new double  glazed, un-drafty house. The last three winters were spent in a drafty, cold, damp, untouched-for-a-full-century Victorian upper flat, which really tested my love of the cold. It turns out I don't actually love being properly cold. I have a lower room temperature tolerance of 19 degrees, it seems, and while it is nice to be able to wear smashing jumpers, it isn't nice to have to wear several at once, at all times.  This is a house so cold you have to take a few layers off when you go outside.

But still, here we are.

Turns out the first day of Autumn, which I'd never heard being considered before yesterday, is the autumnal equinox. Which in turn transpires to be, not a crazy and arbitrary Pagan thing, but in fact the time when the equator is bang in line with the sun. So everywhere has the same length of day. Just at different times according to when they are on the planet. There's another day, very very soon, I think it's September 25th, where the hours of daylight and night are equal, and that is called the equilux in a very satisfying instance of nomenclature.

This is a GREAT time of year. Halloween is coming, I have new boots that I'm able to wear without my feet melting, and it's almost time to forget about brushing my hair altogether as I can wear a hat without looking totally mad.

(That last bit does depend rather on the choice of hat)

I have agreed with Little Miss Christmas that we won't start the Christmas countdown until Halloween is over. Luckily she loves Halloween. We're all set. We're pretty much having a party. It's
Very Exciting and nobody will expect a barbecue. Woohoo.

Of course, Strictly has started, and that's the official start of the countdown to counting down to Christmas...

Superbat

So, I've watched the first 51 minutes of Superman vs Batman and given up due to the super slow internet and its inability to keep streaming.

  

Gah. I seriously never, ever imagined I'd miss Virgin.

Anyway. Thoughts. I should probably call it Dawn of Justice, but I can remember when Star Wars was just called Star Wars. That's not all that relevant. (harsh, imaginary reader, harsh)

Turns out Superman is better than Batman. Who'd have thought it? I always argued that Batman was superior due to his being just a man instead of relying on superpowers, but when held up against Superman, his lack of superpowers just make him seem a bit dweeby.

It isn't just aesthetics. 

No, it isn't.

Henry Cavill being so very very very attractive versus Ben Affleck being kind of meh is utterly not the point.

Ahem.

.

I'm sure there's a story there? We've just discovered that the second thinnest woman on earth is Diana Prince. (Well, her name popped up on the phone screen when I was trying to convince it to keep streaming, I don't think we should know that yet). But still, Wonder Woman. That's awesome. She's awesome. Where does she fit in? Why don't I remember anything about any of them? Should I have been watching all the Marvel/Avengers/whatever films and keeping up? 

And then we got a little spinning circle, and so the viewing ended and has now been replaced by Match of the Day.

I am a little concerned that my long lived devotion to Batman is waning (or Wayning perhaps). Since Batman, the Tim Burton one, came out and I watched it at the cinema three times, my adoration of Batman has been pure and complete. But now there's a few things that I Don't Like.

Well, Ben Affleck would be one. But there's a few things that go along with utterly irrational fears (no, I don't know what will happen if my feet are exposed in bed but I'm not risking it) that have turned up in this film so far. Two things actually.

The first was the branding. No no no. That's creepy. That's one of the things that make me inexplicably and bizarrely frightened of Zorro. (Yes, really). And the second is the utterly terrifying face on the new bat suit,

(picture taken from Cinema Blend but I believe it was first tweeted by Zack Snyder)

How menacing is the face on that? Very Anonymous and very scary.

So, tomorrow will hopefully see the viewing of the remaining 100 minutes (no, even the lure of Henry Cavill's torso isn't enough to try and watch it at silly o' clock). I do hope to emerge without an actual fear of Batman. I was shattered to discover that Jason Donovan is actually hideously awful, despite harbouring a major crush on him for 22 years. It will be a little galling to discover that all my devotions of 1989 were errors of judgement.

For the record, I have to hate Amy Adams. She got to be an actual Disney Princess. She got to act with the Muppets. And she gets to a) be Lois Lane and b) kiss Henry Cavill. Too much for one girl, sorry,

***disclaimer*** I don't know what the man thing is. I appear to be on heat. Obviously I usually hardly notice them. La la la,

Hey. Zorro wasn't ever anything to do with Marvel was he...?

Motherhood

I've been a mother for nearly 11 years. I still have this worry at the back of my mind that somebody sometime will show up and say that they are terribly sorry, there's been an awful mistake and that there is no way someone as incompetent as me should be in charge of small humans.

Of course, that doesn't stop me considering myself a world expert on all aspects of parenting, Obviously.

Anyways. That's not the point, and yes, I do occasionally have one.

(you know, you are extremely cheeky for someone that doesn't exist)

Motherhood isn't quite how I envisaged it.

Yes, I do go into the bathroom, being the only room with a lock, lock the door and sit and surf the net on my phone.

I have been known to sit and utterly ignore screams of agony and obvious battering of one child by another. In my defence, it is usually very obvious when they are being total drama queens and when there is actually a need for intervention. I have rather surprised my hypochondriac self how un-panicky I am about the children. No, sorry, there are no parts of you falling off, nor do you have a temperature, you are fine to go to school. Do not tell a living soul that you've been sick, or they'll invoke the 48 hour punishment for parents who don't keep their children in full health.

One of my finer moments was telling my daughter in no uncertain terms that she would not be getting fed at all that evening, or indeed the rest of the week, due to her inability to behave in Marks and Spencer, While in Marks and Spencer. In full earshot of her nursery teacher and deputy head of the primary school.

There is no end to what can be made out of a cardboard box and/or paper plates. I've made dishwashers, cookers, fridges, cars, dragons, castles, pizzas, volcanoes, shops, signs, football goals, houses, dolls furniture, rockets, and many other things. Sellotape is a parent's best friend.

I can lie so easily to my children. It helps before they can read, because you can inform them that they are too young for anything you don't want them to do, or similar. When they learn to read, and worse, access Google, then they can verify things and lies become harder.

Sometimes I look at my children and feel utter contentment. The love I have for them washes over me and I just gaze at them, marvelling on the good fortune of having them. Only ever when they are asleep however.. Be it holding a sleeping newborn, or gazing from the doorway upon a snoozing ten year old, there's nothing so appealing as your beautiful babies fast asleep. Having said that, I think that I've had similar thoughts about their father. People are so nice when they are asleep, it's no wonder that I'm a night owl.

It's a well documented fact that going to the supermarket alone is something special when you are a parent. What people fail to mention is that going to the dentist, or a smear test, or anything else you can't take children to, is also a rare treat. Oh, you're running half an hour late? That's just fine. No, really it is. Look at me, sitting quietly, reading a book. Nobody is speaking to me at all. Nobody wants to know what flavour February is, nor does anyone require me to referee a boxing match, It is bliss.

There is no denying that it is wonderful. But it isn't quite how you imagine it.

Hello there

So you found me. Say hello please, I've been waiting for you.

Freakishly normal

So it seems that September is the month for two mighty endeavours to be undertaken by us ordinary people. Should we manage to achieve these wonderful feats, we can raise money for our chosen charities.

Firstly we have to try and remain sober for the whole of September. No alcohol at all, and so the sponsor money should roll in.

Secondly, we should try and walk 10,000 steps. I assume this is per day and not during September as I'm pretty sure that most people would manage the latter without leaving the house ever. I also assume it's every day and not just the once.

My mind is boggling. Not drinking for a month is something that needs encouragement? Really? It's that hard?
And how many people don't walk 10,000 steps?

Naturally, as someone that barely drinks and who now has an epic school run (a 40 minute round trip and I'm not not not taking the car), I can be smug. No, I will be smug, I'm not entirely sure anyone will appreciate the smugness so some internal smuggery is required. Can I give myself consent to be smug? Well, I shall. Just between you and me, dear imaginary reader. I so should have been sponsored not to smoke. Too late now.

I'd suggest giving up coffee for a month, but I'm not sure anyone in the vicinity would survive that. I may just donate to charity.

De-stress (as opposed to distress)

For most of my adult (and latter teen) life, I was a smoker. In times of duress, whether sad or stressed, or even just bored, I would smoke a cigarette. It was my crutch.

For obvious reasons, I stopped smoking eventually. It has now been more than a year since I had a cigarette. I don't need to quit or manage cravings, I've done all that. But I haven't found anything to replace the cigarettes. Something to go and do when I'm in a stressy mood.

Vaping has crossed my mind, except I think it looks ridiculous and in my experience having a fake cigarette kind of makes you pang for a real one. If I had seriously considered it, the flavours would make me drop that idea. Strawberry jam? Apple crumble? Cereal flavour???? What??

If I did want to go down that route I think I'd want them to taste, well, like cigarettes.

Chewing gum isn't an option because I despise it. It's just gross, in so many ways.

I've tried asking. I asked Google and the suggestions there were non helpful. Useful tips on now to quit, but I've done that.  The suggestions on things to do instead are utterly unhelpful.

Exercise. Nope. This might work for some people but I'm not an exercise-for-the-endorphins kind of girl. I'm more of an is-it-over-yet kind of exerciser. Unless it's swimming, but that's not hugely practical in light of my non-ownership of a pool.

Read a book. I do that anyway, unless it's a remarkable book it doesn't make me less stressed. My current penchant for psychological thrillers mostly makes me paranoid.

Spend time with your family. Whoever thought of this must be lacking in family if they ever think that's a way to relax. I'm very sorry that they are so lonesome, but I see no reason for them to take it out on innocent people. That's where most of the stress comes from to be honest.

Have a herbal tea. Because you must actually hate yourself. There's a time and a place for herbal teas and this isn't it. Nobody has ever found deep and lasting peace over a cup of matcha. If you must, a coffee, but these things never suggest a coffee. Coffee is a pretty good substitute, except for its sleep altering properties. But no. Coffee is one of the enemies. Love coffee...

Have a snack. If being stressed isn't enough, add being overweight to your worries. Having food as your emotional crutch is generally not that healthy for the old mind either.

There's many similar suggestions, ranging from gardening to crossword puzzles. Dullness, in other words.

There's an argument that one needs to learn to do without a crutch and the perpetuation of need etc, but that argument needs to be a lot less sanctimonious and realise that there were reasons for smoking in the first place.

The only suggestion I've got from other people is to have a drink. And they don't mean coffee. I don't really drink at all, so starting to drink when stressed just seems like a slippery slope to debauchery if you ask me.

I need inspiration. There must be a way to deal with stress that neither threatens my health nor my sanity.

No, it was much worse for me

Competitive parenting combined with competitive sob stories is something else.

There's a thing doing the rounds, and it may not be new but I have never claimed that my rounds are the up to date ones. This thing is in defence of the caesarean section and arguing why it isn't the easy way out. Because an emergency section is scary and horrible, unlike an elective section.

Aieeeee.

What's that little throwaway? An elective caesarean is a breeze now is it? Is that not a very similar attitude to the natural-or-die birth mothers' despised attitude towards caesarean births?

In comes the "I've had a baby, so I'm the world authority" disdain. With no knowledge whatsoever of ansituation, so every mum gets judged on what they have achieved on the mighty good mother checklist:

1) having an equal distribution of male/female children
2) having an all natural birth, preferably without any medical intervention whatsoever and certainly no drugs
3) breastfeeding until high school
4) working full time and homeschooling at the same time

Actually, no. The individual judgement list generally runs along to "what I did". So where one mother does something, that's the way it should be done. By everyone. And if you don't manage it, well you're not trying hard enough.

My baby sleeps. Yours doesn't? Goodness. Have you tried doing anything at all? I expect you haven't tried anything so I'll offer you advice that I gleaned from a book. Oh you tried that already because you've read everything on the subject in desperation? Maybe you didn't try it properly.

Now, there's no need to get snappy.

Who cares?

Humph. So Jeremy Corbyn sat on a train floor and the world has gone mad about it.

Does it matter?

Oh, probably it does. Apparently having someone liberal minded who says things that sound human is just Not On and it is terribly important to discredit him at any point.

And that's just in the Labour party...

I think I probably need some pills or something but I'm finding I don't like people. I like some people, but Mr and Mrs General Public and family are not very nice at all.

Generally being a nice person isn't the done thing. No. It's apparently ok again to make wild judgements about people based on random stereotypes.

We don't use the N word. No, that's offensive and we occasionally actually care about the elderly and infirm. It is the 21st Century and we are very PC.

However it is FINE to be rude and bigoted about Poles, Muslims, Syrians, people on benefits and basically anyone that isn't rude and bigoted themselves. One must either toe the rude and bigoted line, or you're a tree hugging leftie. Ha ha ha. Poor little leftie. They think being NICE  is a good idea. Tee hee.

Anyway. I think the most important thing about the whole Corbyn #traingate nonsense is to ask the most important question: why was he on a passenger train at all? Was there no Jag available?

Pointless existence

No, this isn't a nihilistic depressive piece.

Every year at this time I am perplexed as to why daddy long legs exist. They are probably the most stupid creature on earth. They are not grateful, nor ferocious, nor do they appear to have any function. They lumber across the room laboriously and fly into the same wall over and over and over and over and over.

This latter point is why I both hate them, because it's really annoying, and spend a substantial amount of each autumn pondering why. I've probably blogged right here about it before. It's something I think about a lot.

Right now there is one hanging ominously above me. The one that was doing the wall jig has settled. Obviously they are both waiting for me to turn the light out so they can go for the most glowing thing in the room, which is going to be either my white nightie or my clock radio.

Oh. The mad one has disappeared again. That's bad. I don't like that. Ominously hanging above my head one is still hanging ominously.

Oh wait no. It's got some wall flying into to do in absence of its pal. Maybe it thought I was sitting ominously under it and was worried I'd spring up while it slept.

I don't see the point of them. I assume they are a valuable source of food for something important. Or maybe they are the most successful species on earth and they mock us for our ridiculous notions of normality.

Whatever. I eagerly await that time when one realises that even the spiders have gone for the winter. Hateful, idiotic mini beasts be gone.

Yeah yeah, it's been a while

Crikey, I was still on the young side of very old last time I wrote this. Still, it's easier than starting over. Does anyone still use/read Blogger any more? I don't think I do. Do I?

My imaginary reader is reading bloglovin? Really?

So, here, why?

Well, the postman/fellow dog walker/person in the shop/random passer by doesn't necessarily want to know my every thought or to be ranted at.

Facebook has issues, namely it has people on it and pretty much everything I would say would offend someone.

"Good morning"

1) Good? What's good about it? I am so offended that you think this awful day could be good.
2) I am offended because I am in a different time zone and it isn't morning here and so you are being exclusive
3) I am offended because you wrote a rather meaningless status update instead of responding to my attention seeking elsewhere

Twitter has the limitation of being only in possession of 140 characters which is virtually impossible for me.

So, this stuff in my head has to go somewhere. Here is as good as anywhere.

And who knows, next time I might have something to say.

Independent defending.

On September the 18th 2014, I shall be marching to the polling station and proudly marking my X next to Yes. I do think Scotland should be an independent country.

I started off from a "probably" position. I'm not an SNP member though and I don't consider myself an SNP voter. I expect to vote Green in the next elections. They also support Yes, quietly and reasonably.

I'm not alone, Noam Chomsky and George Monbiot think it is a good idea. So do all of these people. It isn't just the SNP, and it isn't just nutters.

I, being biased and not an expert, find the Better Together campaign to be misleading. They are less about facts than about misleading. Specifically, they have smeared the SNP and their claims and made them out to be out and out liars, by a process of misinformation. They may be lying, but when faced with untruths, it is hard to pick out actual truths and the sneering at "nationalists" is becoming perpetual.

There was a "leaked document" found by Better Together that revealed secret mention of debts that Scotland would begin their independent status with and that defence spending would be less. They spoke of the paper detailing the volatility of oil and claimed tha SNP had never admitted that oil prices could drop.  SNP had openly talked and discussed all of the supposed secrets. Better Together would defintely have been aware of the talks and debates that these were discussed at, but they chose to present it as being hidden from voters. That is downright wicked and deliberately misleading. Furthermore, they claimed that the paper contained plans to cut public service jobs and old age pensions, which is an outright lie as there is no mention of either in the paper at all. There are further mentions of things that are not actually in the paper and if you see the claims next to the actual paper it is sobering and disturbing. One mention of budgets says "Scotland will decide" and it is reported as saying "London can veto", which it does not say. A deliberate and malicious attempt to smear politicians doesn't help anyone.

I can't see the claims of NHS funding to be unfounded. A No vote leaves us in the Union forever. A union that is a lot in the shadow of America. The risk to our NHS at any point in the future is a real and serious one. But I know many disagree and think it is wicked of the SNP to use the NHS as a scare story. I find the news stories about protests in England scary enough on their own but, as previously stated, I am biased.

Better Together suggested that the people of Scotland would not be able to use health services south of the border. They suggested that we wouldn't be able to access organ donations from outwith Scotland. They specifically said that children would not be able to use Great Ormond Street. All untrue. 

Great Ormond Street utterly refuted the claims that Scots would not be able to use their services. They demanded an advert from No Borders that suggested we'd lose out be removed, as they had not been consulted. They reassured Scots that they treat patients from all around Europe and that Scotland would be no different. 

The people of Northern Ireland and Ireland visit doctors on opposite sides of their border, no problem. The NHSBT (NHS blood and transport) has a contractual arrangement with the Scottish Government to ensure the best matches for recipients across the UK are found. Obviously we wouldn't want to lose this. Ireland's Health Service Executive works with NHSBT to provide a full organ doner service across Ireland. 

The latest leaflet that came through the door claimed that the weekly shop would increase, because Tesco.ie charged more. Actually, they don't. Many products are actually cheaper in Tesco.ie than Tesco.com. And when asked, Tesco denied that the price rises were true.

Since writing this, Cameron has had a word in the ear of businesses and asked them to come out and state that costs would rise, taking prices up with them, in an independent Scotland. Many shops have, Asda and John Lewis being the most acknowledged. While this may be true, the fact that Cameron did this is such trickery and deviousness that it hardens my resolve for Yes. Why would we want to be governed by those who trick and manipulate us? As observed by someone yesterday, Project Fear has become Project Terror.

They said data roaming charges would increase, just as they were abolished. They said that we would not benefit from the UK's AAA credit rating, after that rating had been downgraded. And then they resorted to insulting us, especially women. What with being not genetically programmed to be political and being women that don't engage with politics, it is amazing we are allowed to vote at all.

And pensions. They keep on about staying in the Union to protect your pension. The elderly believe this, they don't want to lose their pension. Their pension is payable even if they go to live in a different country. So it is not at risk from independence. I don't feel my pension is all that safe in the UK and it is entirely possible I won't live to the age I'll have to retire at (I think my age of retirement is to be 68 or 70 at the moment). I can't get my head round using pensions as a reason for voting No.

A lot of uncertainty surrounds currency and the EU. David Cameron, and only David Cameron, could ask about our position in the EU and clarify this once and for all. He hasn't. I can only assume he fears that if the answer was yes, we could easily join, that this would affect the vote. if the answer was no, we would have to go through a lengthy process like any new member country, that would give strength to the No vote, but can he take that risk? No. So instead he banks on the uncertainty of not knowing and the fear of the unknown leading to voting No. Also, the currency union. For all to see, a currency union is the best option, If we don't have one, the pound will crash massively, and that is hardly in rUK's interest. But if they laid out plans to have a currency union, that would remove the uncertainty and fear, making a Yes vote less risky. It is a dirty trick, to keep uncertainty where there need not be. Why can't we go into this referendum with a clearer picture of what will happen when there are things that can be answered? We can't know what exactly will happen with our finances, how much oil there will be, many other things. But we could know exactly where we stand on currency and the EU. BT still mention that we don't have any plan for currency, I'm not sure if that is a joke or not. And I want to throw things at the TV/radio/computer/post every time they say about staying in the EU and the benefits of the EU, because they want to have a referendum to leave it.

I know that No voters think it is terrible, that we have been duped by the SNP. But I feel that if we lose the vote, for a great number of voters it will be because they have been misled. 

I for one am voting from a sense of "why not, let's see what we can do" and trusting the people that say there is no reason why we can't. I've been there since before the campaigning kicked off.

And I can't help but agree with Alan Bissett about the bleak prospect of a post No Scotland.

Alan Bissett - What the future will look like if the result is no

Incidentally, I know the other side of this. I'm not unaware of the arguments against. I'm just showing why I am less than enamoured with the No campaign and why I worry it has clouded judgement. It may not be easy but I just don't think we should be British. I can't change that view.

A new start

I'm starting afresh. Come find me at  http://ostensiblyowl.blogspot.co.uk/

RIP Pete Barnes

Tragically this morning, a helicopter in London crashed into a crane and subsequently burst into flames, killing the pilot of the helicopter and another person.

I don't know the exact circumstances, but I did know that Pete Barnes, the pilot, was an exceptional man. As a teenager, I was lucky enough to be taken for a spin in a helicopter by this gorgeous man, and I also had the pleasure of giving him a lift in my car on another occasion. Charming, witty, handsome and polite, even to a gawking teen.

Tributes pouring in acknowledge his flying skills, his bravery, his heroics and, most of all, what a thoroughly nice man he was.

It is indeed a tragedy that he was taken so young (50), doing what he did so brilliantly, and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to have met him so many years ago. May he rest in peace.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm jumping on the bandwagon

Yeah, I'm late. Checking into Twitter, I find some amount of venom aimed at Ms Julie Burchill.
So I Google her name.
So, we don't like transsexuals today. Or we do, and we don't like them being slagged off.
Sigh. Here *we* go again. Feminists versus the world.
I didn't like Ms Burchill's piece because it is vile. But I also resented being involuntarily lumped in as an uneducated, working class drone that wants nothing more than feminist supremacy.
No, thanks, I'm quite posh and clever and I'd quite like to just get on being me and letting everyone else get on with their lives. Unless they make a lot of noise, steal from me or vote Tory, what they do/are is no concern of mine.
Oh, I'm not linking to the article, it's horrid. Go Google and you too can experience the surreal experience of the Telegraph castigating the Observer for being bigoted.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life... and I'm feeling meh

Ok, it's not a new day, dawn or life, and it's not quite new year any more either. But I haven't blogged in a while, no, really, and so I feel compelled to say:

A very merry Christmas to all the bots out there! And I do hope all the legions of real people anxiously awaiting my latest bloggage had a most splendid Christmas. And indeed, anyone else. Them too. A really happy one.

Christmas for me was a bit spoiled by the illness of everyone, but the children had a brilliant time and were more or less well on the big day. Poor grumpypants had tonsillitis and couldn't eat or particularly stay out of bed. Most everyone was frugal this year, myself included, which puzzles me slightly as to why it took 4 years of recession before this kicked in. Grumpypants was most generous; I received a Chromebook, which is quite brilliant and shall be blogged about in due course. This was on top of the Kindle Touch I received as an early Christmas present in October. 

Yes I know, patience would have yielded a Paperwhite, but no Chromebook. So I win really, I have a shiny new Touch that does the job just grand, and a Chromebook. Way. How many times can I mention the Chromebook? Many.

So that was Christmas. Me being spoilt mostly. I'm not holding out for much for my birthday on Friday. I may pretend the Kindle was a birthday present.

Happy new year also. May 2013 be bountiful. I type 2014 first almost every time I type the year. I'm obviously not anticipating a good year and want this one out of the year.

According to my 2012 new year spraff, which can be revisisted here, I undertook the following for 2012:

* Finish my dissertation and finally get the MSc I've been doing since 2007.
* Lose the baby belly. 
* Move to a house that's big enough for 5 of us. 

No, no and no, although I did submit the dissertation today so that just missed. Although it was a big bit rubbish so may need redone. 

The other two, well, no go. 

The baby belly is marginally smaller, having toyed with various fixes, the most successful of which was a low carb diet, which was surprisingly easy, effective, solved all my niggly ailments, and which gave me agonising pains that may well be gallstones. So we're back on the carbs, with the accompanying belly, stecky joints and perpetual hunger. I may one day master the art of moderation.

We're still in the same old 2 bed flat. We have lived here for ten years this year, seven of which with two children and a bit over a year with a third. She's still in our room, is ever accumulating belongings and it is a Bit of a Problem.

So for this year, things are quite simple resolution wise:

1) lose the belly that's hung around too long to be called a baby belly
2) move house
3) learn the art of moderation

Anything else just seems a bit ambitious. I can't think of anything else I achieved last year. Ooh, other than successfully icing the Christmas cake with royal icing. The year before I had a daughter who I had long hoped for but neither planned nor expected. This year I plan to enjoy her as much as I can before she grows up at a rate of astonishing swiftness. Her brothers turned seven last week. Seven??!! I'm not sure how that happened. Yes, I know. Passage of time, constantly, and all that, it's a turn of phrase. Gad. My imaginary reader is so pedantic!

2011 - had a daughter
2012 - iced a cake

Doesn't quite compare. Although the latter required skill, the former just happened all by itself and all I had to do was not smoke, drink or eat swordfish.

So. I do intend to blog more but I always intend to blog more, except that time back then when I used to blog more.

We'll see what 2013 brings, and perhaps find out why I'm so keen to deny it.