Formula Half

I'm quite excited about the new Formula 1 season, which begins next weekend in Melbourne. Sebastian Vettel is a god amongst drivers and I look forward to seeing what he achieves this year. He may be the finest Formula 1 driver ever.

I'm not hugely loyal though, I'll also be keeping a close eye on Lewis Hamilton and Jensen Button. We can pretend that I'm being patriotically British just for a while, even if we have to concede that I really tend to be a bit German about sport.

I'm a little apprehensive about the coverage however. The BBC are how showing half, and Sky are showing half. As a Virgin subscriber, it would cost us £22.50 a month to have Sky Sports, which then gives free F1 coverage. Their website states that what you can do if you don't have Sky Sports and you want to watch F1 is: get Sky Sports.

I am told by a trusted source that this is due to Sky setting prices and further told by another that this is true.

Reason to detest Sky #6,345,311.

In a previous incarnation of my life, I had Sky Sports and watched football on it. Then Sky stopped showing any match you'd want to see and instead made them pay-per-view and that was that. As the bundle with Sky Movies 1-236 is generally negligibly more expensive, we had movies and sport galore. Woo. Not so any more. Sports is mostly boring football featuring diddy team B team vs weeny team B team from 1976. Woo. Movies show the same blockbusters over and over and over and over and...

Mostly actually due to having children and little time to stare at the tellybox, we don't have the full Sky works any more and so £22.50 to watch half the grand prix doesn't seem good value at all.

I don't follow how it works anyway, mostly because I haven't found out. I'll buy the Radio Times this week and find out.

"It" being the split coverage incidentally, I follow how the Grand Prix works. Obviously.

As far as I've gleaned, the live races will be split; half will be broadcast live on the BBC. What happens to the other half - being shown live on Sky - for terrestrial and non-Sky viewers I don't know. They should get a non-live version of the race as I understand it. Non-live is fine when they're on at crazy hours, but knowing Sky, they'll have all the European races live, and the BBC will be left with all the races run at silly o'clock to broadcast live. Maybe just highlights, which isn't worthy of the licence fee, but which is better than nothing. Just.

I also have no idea what will be broadcast, or where, of the qualifying et al. I don't know much really. Hopefully when the first race begins in fractionally (7 hours) over a week's time, I'll be better informed.

We'll see.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Scots, or how not to speak your own language

For some reason there seems to be a thing going on about Scots, the language, and why we should embrace it. Which is at least an improvement on wanting to reclaim Gaelic, given that we as a majority do speak a form of Scots.

The first I've seen of this new revival is with my children. In consecutive years, the twins have been selected to recite at the Burns' day hoo-ha. The poems were in Scots and I had the boys telling me things such as "flair is Scottish for floor" and other things that, I'm sorry, grated. On the first year, twin one gained first place and received a certificate in English commemorating this. Year two and twin two was third, with a certificate in Scots. "Weel done" and "oor schuil" both irked me.

A week or so ago I saw the end of a programme (presumably only for the delight of BBC2 Scotland viewers) called Scots Schuil, and this caught my eye. To be precise it screamed out "incorrect!!!" in the same manner as the certificate. But I turned over anyway.

This programme made me think. It featured some pleasantly spoken children going to learn Scots, learning about the language and how it has been left behind. At one point they performed a sketch where one of the children was talking about "hunners" and the headmistress was saying "it's hundreds!" (as I would). The parents afterwards were discussing whether we should embrace the Scots language and encourage the use of such words.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I don't want to stamp out my heritage, but at the same time it doesn't sound nice to me. Pronouncing anything with the "ow" sound - our, town, house - as "oo" instead sounds kind of rough, as does dropping the consonants.

I live in Fife, although I'm originally from Edinburgh, and I genuinely can't pronounce some of the Fife words. While I'd be happy to refer to potatoes as "tatties", I can't form the local pronunciation, which is more or less "toi'ees".

Having placed myself in a dilemma as to whether I should celebrate my heritage and stop correcting "ma" to "my" in my sons, I watched another programme tonight about Scots words and their brilliance.

For all my worries about pronunciation, there is many's a word that I consider absolutely normal that are Scots words:
Blether.
Glaikit.
Scunnered.
Guddle
Jiggered.
Shoogle.
Muckle.
Jiggered and blether haven't been underlined by the phone. Maybe they're not uniquely Scottish?

They're just everyday words as far as I'm concerned. Or not. I only found out relatively recently that you don't get tablet anywhere else, unless it's made by/for a Scot.

There's a way of speaking and a turn of phrase which is pure Scots. Some of which I use and don't even notice, much I find offensive to my pedantic ears.
I conclude that I have my own rules. They work for me. There's no lingual difference in how and when you use an apostrophe though.

Finally, I feel the need to irrelevantly point out that the first line of Auld Lyne Syne is not a question.

Can't stop ranting

Why don't I have a mountain of medicine spoons? Since 2006 when Calpol was first suitable for my boys, I have never consciously thrown out the spoon that comes with medicine. Given how much Calpol we go through, not to mention Calprofen, Benylin (me), Benadryl, antibiotics etc, I figure I should have approximately 100, if not more. I have about 10. Where are the rest of them? I blame the sock gremlins again.

Grammar rant alert: why can't people, whose job it is to talk or write, not learn simple grammar rules? I spend half my time saying "did" to my son when he says that such and such done something. He hears people say "done" and so he repeats it.

So it irks me something rotten when I'm watching television and hear Jane McDonald say "talking don't get tougher than this" to Gregg Wallace, in humorous reference to his infamous "cooking DOESN'T get tougher than this" line on Masterchef. Care, people, care. It's not hard.

And lose doesn't have two o's in it.

I'm not sure about that apostrophe. I care about them too UNLIKE A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO DON'T BOTHER. That's not the usual correct use, but without it, the word would be os. Hmm.
See, I think about it. And it's not my job.

Another thing that I wonder about is words that change meaning.

Ignorance: means lack of knowledge; used to mean rudeness. I assume this refers to lack of knowledge of how to behave. But it is constantly used to simply describe inappropriate behaviour. Unless used as an adjective and accompanied by the word "fool", in which case it gloriously refers to lack of knowledge.

Irony: this has been well covered. Ed Byrne notably has a very amusing stand up routine detailing how each scenario in Allanis Morrisette's song "Ironic" isn't ironic.

The Guardian wrote about it many many (9) years ago.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/theguardian/2003/jun/28/weekend7.weekend2

Yeah. I can't remember the HTML for links. I might fix that later.

Finally, as I've moved from a harmless spoon ponder to an all out attack on the illiteratti, I do wonder about those who give their children wacky names. With a made up name, they are ensuring their child forever gets preconceived ideas about them and called by the wrong name.

Others take regular names and spell them wackily. Not cute. Stupid. My friend knows a Jorja and an Ollyver. Those kids will gain nothing other than the fact that their name will constantly be spelt incorrectly.

My three children have standard issue, traditional names. Two of them are very popular names, one isn't particularly popular any more. I know that many think I'm boring, that they're awful and unimaginative names. I was mocked by someone for my choice for my daughter; her suggestions were off the wall.

My argument is that it isn't an extension of your creativity, it is the name of a person who will grow up and introduce themselves to important people, fill out forms and generally be hassled by having a stupid name. That's not to say unusual names aren't sometimes really nice, I just wish people would stick to names that work as names.

I think I'm done now.

Kitchen devils

In the never ending kitchen appliance saga, which has been ongoing for the last seven years and which has seen a new cooker, a new washing machine, a new fridge door, two new microwaves and a new panel for the dishwasher, we have a new fault. We have a care plan for our kitchen appliances (best ever monthly spend) so my old mate the repairman will be returning tomorrow.

What now? I hear you ask excitedly.

The dishwasher door falls open part way through a cycle. Which isn't all that useful on an appliance that relies on being watertight. The door is currently held shut with parcel tape, following in the manner of the fridge door and car bonnet before it. Along with many other temporary fixes that became permanent. And indeed anything else that ever needs taped, because parcel tape doesn't hide the way Sellotape does.

It does hide. It can become irrevocably lost halfway through wrapping a parcel. I don't know how, the sock gremlins must be involved somehow.

I hope it's a simple fault. If the dishwasher is condemned then I fear I may have to face a dishwasherless life, and that is quite terrifying. I would have to fling myself mercilessly to my parents who thankfully see a dishwasher as a necessity.

I don't have a tumble dryer. I'm not all bad and we do use a lot of dishes. Yes, I could. I don't want to.

My husband pointed out disingenuously that if we are to be dishwasherless, I would have to stand and wash dishes, which did not merit a response.

The repairman is to come tomorrow afternoon, not between the hours of 14.50 and 15.20 as that's school run time. And sense would indicate that arriving at 14.45 isn't all that useful.

I have my money on a 15.00 arrival.

And then there was monkey

The last two entries were a bit rubbish, I know this.

C'mon phone. Surely it is obvious that I mean "rubbish" when I type "burrish"?

So words. I was going to have a rant about the Guardian's campaign to shame Facebook for their policy on what is acceptable and how that may not agree with the breast feeding nazis. But it comes across a bit like I approve of censorship which I don't*, so I'll leave that one.

*as long as things are spelt correctly and are accurate.

Yesterday I got in conversation with some Mormons who were intent on converting mums on the way home from school. I stopped, because I can't help it. Talk to me and I will talk back.

Hmm.

This was the gist of our conversation:

Me:
Evolution is infinitely more probable than the creation.
Them:
Evolution may exist, in that animals can adapt to their environment, but we are not evolved from monkeys.

Me:
There is evidence to support evolution. There is no evidence of God.
Them:
The evidence to support the existence of God comes from God himself. The mechanisms of this are too complicated to explain.

Me:
I wouldn't want to follow God, he's not very nice.
Them:
God sending plague, death and general smiting for any non conformity is pretty much the same as any parent disciplining their child.

Me:
Religion is based on not asking questions, to question is sinful.
Them:
God loves questions, He will answer them. Ask him in prayer and he will answer.
Me:
How?
Them:
In a variety of ways. Like feelings.
Me: like when you ask the traffic light a question and it goes green. Is that God?
Them:
No, that is just a traffic light.

I remain unconverted.

What?

Oh I see. I'm supposed to write something here?

Ah.

That could be a problem.

word cloud

All I had to do in order to get this, which does appear to be based on my last couple of posts rather than many  more, was:

• start up computer
• load site 
• install java
• install plug in
• give permission to run plug in. 

which took a little over an hour. But still.

Thank you wordle.

http://www.wordle.net/create

Purple blues

I'm developing a slight aversion to pink because everything baby girl related is pink. I dress E each day in a varying array of pink and it's getting nauseous.

Blue doesn't look quite right though for a baby girl, due mostly to the explosion of baby blue everything at the non pink end of the baby aisle. It doesn't unduly upset me to have blue around my girl, I don't share the preoccupation with gender stereotypes that sees poor wee girls with hideous bows attached to their heads. She has two older brothers after all and so has a fair bit of blue. She hasn't changed gender yet.

Our footmuff is blue as it was inherited from a baby boy. It is lovely and fine, but I thought I would dye it purple as a more feminine sort of colour, and because I'm kind of obsessed with purple.

Machine dye: inexpensive and easy to use.

Easy peasy.

I now have a purple washing machine and a blue footmuff. Not a purply blue, noooo, exactly the same blue as before. After the initial dye cycle it was a lovely lilac but that was swiftly washed out by the second "to rinse" cycle.

Washing machine remains purple of door and trim even after a restorative empty wash. Although this final cycle was commenced off my watch and so was done at 100 without a de-purpling wipedown first.

I am unpopular, out of pocket to the tune of £7 and right back where I started.

Still, the quest for an all-purple life (except that which is burgundy) is just a little less distant.

Blind in the face of celebrity

Ugh.

I just completed a vote for Bounty on celebrity guilty crushes. Now, I realise that the whole point is to admit to lusting after those that aren't conventionally fanciable, but some of these were taking that too far.

Mr Tumble for example. Justin Fletcher is lovely, talented, kind, funny and all manner of positive things. He is not sexy. At all. And as Mr Tumble, he is positively asexual.

Simon Cowell is oft mentioned as a celebrity crush. Don't get that one, nor Andrew Marr or Heston Blumenthal, both of whom also appear on such lists more often than is fathomable.

James Corden, standing at #2 in the vote, is vile and not even funny. No, he isn't. If you want sexy because they're funny: try David Mitchell or Charlie Brooker. Or sexy and funny: Rhod Gilbert.

So, for people involved in the list of guilty crushes: Mr Bloom. My own personal happy to admit to crush. Because Ben Faulks is obviously fit in his spare time. I gave him 10/10.

James May, also asexual, was on the list and Jeremy Clarkson wasn't. Just me then. I'm sure Clarkson used to be on these lists, he must have gotten too old. Or maybe it's the national sense of humour failure over his rants. Who knows. He's still practically my perfect man and I know. I so know. I have flimsy principles.

Phillip Schofield was winning, probably because he's nice looking and doesn't qualify as a guilty secret.

I fear I'm showing my age here. I'm 78 you know.

There were others that I feel meh about. And the one that disturbs me, the man who my brain persists on acknowledging as nice looking: David Cameron. If you like toffs, he's handsome enough. Still a loathsome toad, but fairly nice looking. Nick Clegg used to be very nice looking then he sold his soul and now just looks sad. That's the Cameron effect and allows me my favourite tag. Huzzah.

Mind changing

I remember a time when I used to make my mind up and stay with it.

Not so any more. Decisions are difficult, I have enough difficulty sticking with a menu choice between ordering and eating. Big life decisions are even harder. What if? What if? What if?

So, the decision. As I have now shared this information with my boss, I can divulge unexcitingly that I have decided not to return to work. Which would be in direct contrast to the recent decision to return. Saying as how we're so rich that we don't need help with childcare, I would be working for next to nothing and I'm not going to do that.

By next to nothing, I mean it. I would earn considerably less per week (after childcare) than the amount given as Jobseekers Allowance. I can probably shave that off the shopping bill.

And, contrary to what our esteemed leader believes, we are not a rich family and we will need to do that shaving of the budget.

As to my diet, I don't appear to know. I had some salmon for lunch. Scottish sustainable salmon, but the first fish I've had in a long while.

In four years I have gone from omnivore to vegetarian to pollotarian and now it appears pescetarian. Maybe pescepollotarian, red meat is BAD, but chicken is not. Chicken can make me gag though so I may seek my protein from soy and sustainable fish.

Until I change my beliefs/tastes/mind again.

I don't seem to have changed my political mind however. I still have, according to online quizzes, 100% concurrence with Liberal Democrat policies. Except that one that they actually adhere to, the one where they sit back and let the Tories implement Tory policy.

Dammit.

How to eat fish

Yes, more fish. And this time a change of opinion.

I've been investigating dietary ways to reduce blood pressure. Mine is perpetually raised and I'm hugely concerned.

High potassium foods have been proven to lower blood pressure, and bananas (über food) certainly have an effect on my readings, more than the stupid drug I've finally been taken off.

Some other high potassium foods are marvellous foods from a taste perspective, my favourites include:

Avocados
BANANAS
Melon
Mangos
Artichoke
Beans
Potatoes
Sweet potatoes
Tomatoes
Milk
Yogurt
Ice cream
Chocolate (more pure cocoa than dairy milk, but still, woo)

And fish. Of course. The health food that is fish. Also good for potassium. Typically.

I've been concerned for a while about the health benefits I don't get by not eating fish. Omega-3 is the healthiest thing on the block it seems. It is shown to be beneficial in a number of manners, including as a protection against cancer and cardiac disease - which is obviously what I'm concerned about with blood pressure issues. And where do you get Omega-3 from? Oily fish. Also high in potassium. Super.

Option one would be to take Omega-3 supplements. Upset stomach and fish breath? Er, no thanks.

Can I eat fish? I don't actually like a lot of it and have zero intention of ever ordering it in a restaurant. Except maybe mussels. Hmm. Or scallops. I like them. Salmon? Trout?

Ok. Chill.

Thanks to an iPhone app called the Good Fish Guide, I have now a list of fish that are super duper both from a being-high-in-potassium-and-Omega-3 point of view, and which are super sustainable.

By which I mean, they are not threatened with extinction, the fishing of them does not cause peril to other species and is well managed while minimising any environmental impact.

The news is good.

Mussels are green for go.
So are Rainbow Trout and Alaskan Salmon (Atlantic Salmon is bad and evil and must be avoided).
Skipjack Tuna and Lemon Sole are also green for sustainable, as well as other fish I wouldn't eat or haven't heard of. The green list of consists of:

Mussels
Rainbow Trout
Alaskan Salmon
Skipjack Tuna
Lemon Sole
Pollack
Cockles
Coley
Dab
Gurnard
Halibut (but only from the Pacific or farmed from the Atlantic)
Herring
Mackerel
Oysters
Pouting or Bib
Red Mullet
Sardines
Squid
Tilapia
Turbot (only if farmed, not sea caught)
Winkles.

The fish that are red for evil and which should not be consumed by anyone with a conscience are:

Black scabbardfish
Crimson Snapper
Eel
Greater Forkbeard
Grouper
Halibut from Greenland or sea caught from the Atlantic
Lesser spotted dogfish
Marlin
Bluefin Tuna
Northern Prawns
Orange Roughy
Nursehound
Parrot fish
sea caught Prawns
Rabbit fish
Ray (any type)
Red Snapper or Snapper
Redfish
Rough Head Grenadier
Shark (any type)
Silver Scabbardfish
Skate (any type)
Spurdog
Starry Smoothhound
Sturgeon (or caviar)
Tusk
Wolffish.

No, me neither.

The many, many types of seafood that are missing from either list are classed as yellow which means "think". They may be vulnerable and/or subject to overfishing so "think" and mostly opt for a better fish.

This includes cod, haddock, whiting and sea bass. And scallops.

I've not eaten fish yet, I still maintain my principles. But my health does take priority over my principles and so we'll see. I went back to meat by having sustainable meats, so I exert my right to have my mind changed.

Fine dining

Masterchef is nearly done and the cooking is vairy vairy posh.

I do wonder what you are to do if you have a limited diet in any way and go to a fine dining occasion where set menus are presented, complete with fish, meat and any manner of offal, feet or shells as garnish. Last night's Masterchef had 238 legal top boffins and it seemed all 238 were served a fish starter and steak main.

Yes, vegetarianism again. Shoot me.

In my limited experience of fine dining it does seem to be that the finer the food, the more the food consists of whole creatures. Seafood particularly is served in its entirety: legs, shells, eggs sometimes. Even in my voracious omnivore days I couldn't eat something that looked like it did when it was alive. Prawns I liked, assuming they came as little curls of meat, not with their entire being attached. Nor could I eat a fish with its head and eyes on my plate. Fish appears more as the menu gets more refined, and the finest is plucked from the sea and plonked more or less directly onto the plate.

Pork also, tasty food, but why serve the trotters and ears? The posher one is, the rawer the beef and lamb are served. Masterchef often criticises contestants for serving meat cooked to what I would describe as edible. Not well done, just cooked. They call it overdone. I've cooked a lot of meat in my time and I have never served it either dry or half raw.

I have on two occasions had genuinely fine dining. Once at a quite marvellous wedding, and once at a Michelin starred restaurant. On both occasions I had vegetarian meals as I was fully vegetarian at the time. On both occasions I was served sublime food that was equal in perfection to any meat dishes. At the restaurant I had the vegetarian taster menu and seriously, if you can get food like that without meat, why would you ever eat meat?

On both the aforementioned occasions however, I was made to feel slightly freakish. I get that most people aren't vegetarian, but there's a sense that eating everything is sophisticated and turning the pigs ears down is crass. More than that, I get the impression that vegetarianism is considered to be the premise of teenagers and tree huggers and anyone else is kind of immature or simply uncultured.

I find as I get older and, one would assume, maturer of mind, that I care more about the planet and the life upon it as a whole. I don't like being made to feel stupid and unworldly for doing so.

Gluten-free is smart and clever; vegetarianism is silly. Unless of course you know anything about nutrition.

I do eat some meat, for now and not for long. I make meat for my children. I like to choose vegetarian dishes when eating out though and I'd like to be able to do so without pasta or mockery.

How to lose friends and intimidate people

I read a lovely lot of ranting today, I nodded along and agreed and enjoyed a good rant by another.

However, I do feel I need to clarify my position on fish and so I'm going to take the easy approach and link to a previous blog that kind of covers it.

Here.

Or you could click the tag "fish" on this one.

While I like to rant on, I worry about offending people. I have my opinions and as this is my blog, I voice them. That doesn't mean I expect everyone to share them. Which would be nice, obviously, but possibly a little dull.

For example, if I was to say "cable knit leggings look awful on anyone over the age of 8", that isn't to mock those of a greater age who have them. Except, don't wear them out of the house. They don't look good. Really. I'm only saying it for your own good.

I can't help it. I offend people all the time and I'm not intentionally nasty. Just intolerant and sarcastic, which are lovely attributes.

I do apologise excessively, it all balances out. I think. People still talk to me, and that's probably not just for my wit and repartee.

Incidentally, if Boris Johnson or David Cameron read this, which they obviously will, then I do mean to offend you. Hugely.

Whinge

I don't know why I look at stats. The number of views-by-bots just demotivates me.

Aim for the next occasion when I make promises to myself:
increase volume of traffic to blog to sufficient levels to rid me of the auto views by flaming bots.

Interesting imagery conjured up by the last two words of the last sentence. Sorry about that.

I have made a decision, I can't tell anyone what it is yet. Which is KILLING ME.

Most other thoughts are somewhat depressing today, I'm not sure why. I blame David Cameron, because I can.

The wonder of our government

I'm sorry, this may be political, or my version thereof.

Today we received a letter from HMRC informing us that we will not be receiving Child Tax Credits any more because we earn over £26,000 as a household income.
Which naturally makes us rich, right?

A worker on the minimum wage would earn £12k full time. So if you earned £60 a month over the minimum wage and your partner earned similar, then you earn too much to get tax credits.

Rich, rich, rich you'd be too. Rich. Beyond your wildest dreams, as long as you dreamt of a very small flat and not a lot in the way of nice stuff.

As we currently receive a little over £1 a day in tax credits, maybe as much as £1.50, this isn't a huge tragedy. But what is galling:

a) in what universe is £26k a good single salary, never mind a joint salary?

b) no child tax credits means no childcare element. So no help with that then. Thanks, just as I need it too.

So I moan, and get reminded it was Labour that got us into debt, of course. Not a global financial crisis, oh no: Labour. So the valiant Tories have to sort it out for us, so that they can afford the Royal Yacht and other Important Things.

Unless I am mistaken, Labour weren't all for taking our money from us for nothing. They did allow "us" to spend all of our money and get into personal debt, which is another matter, but they didn't simply take our money. Like the Tories do, which isn't surprising as that's what Tories do, and this is one of many reasons why we don't vote for them. Or do, in the case of an alarmingly large number of people, even if it wasn't enough to vote them in without turncoat sell-out Liberals.

I realise that many/most people think I am naive, and even stupid, for not blaming Labour for the global financial crisis and for not thinking that the Tories are a better alternative. But I find it incomprehensible that anyone can know what the Tories stand for - immigration anyone? - and vote for them.

I would like to point out that I am
not a Labour supporter. Prior to the Nick Clegg betrayal debacle, I would have called myself Liberal but I definitely don't support them now. Currently I guess I'm SNP, because they have done many positive things for Scotland. In a general election I think I'd have to vote Green.

I used to be ambivalent about independence, but it now has a huge incentive: no Cameron.

And back to my mate Dave. He has offered Scotland "increased powers" if we have a single question on independence and we vote No. SNP propose two questions so that we can vote for increased devolved powers instead of independence if that's how we see fit. One would assume that we'd specify which powers, something that is notably lacking from David Cameron's offer. That's something to be revealed after we've voted.

Details, schmetails, why would we want to know WHAT additional powers you propose? And by "additional obviously we're looking for "less".

Dontcha just love the UK government?

Boys will be boys

Oh the joy of school holidays, in this case "half term", which for us thankfully is three days and not 6 like most other regions.

Pro of holidays: no school run.

Con of school holidays: the children are home all day.

Due to being particularly skint, I thought it would be a good idea to invite a friend of the boys to play on Wednesday, which meant I spent two days frantically shit-shifting to make the house look presentable and the boys' room accessible without climbing gear.

The house now looks normally untidy. This is a result, but not a great one.

So on Wednesday afternoon, friend number one appears, best buddy of twin one. This friend is relatively calm and plays quite nicely. Twin two was rather marginalised though and a bit miffed, so in my befuddled state I thought it was an idea to invite twin two's best friend today.
Friend number two is here now and I am going demented. Twin two is high pitched and hyper with an attention span of a few seconds. Every time they get something out, he moves onto the next thing. His poor friend has started 56 games and actually played none.

Twin one is not marginalised, he simply shouts louder for attention. The noise levels are deafening and so I have escaped to my bedroom while the baby inexplicably manages to nap.
Just over an hour to go and then I think a nice quiet stare at the tv is required.

Lego now. I've just put away the last Lego game. Exhausting.

As February goes by...

It's not very far on in the year and this here bloggage isn't happening on a daily basis at all.

Ah well. Such is the way of all (my) intentions.

Naturally I have had a fulfilling and active time in my absence and haven't spent all the time playing with my 3DS at all. Not one bit.

Ok, maybe.

In my head I am writing a novel to win the Good Housekeeping competition to win your book in print. I have formulated an excellent back story, but am failing to get the main story or anything actually written. 5000 words and synopsis to be submitted by 31 March. Is this likely? It is not.

I am also mentally composing my Masters dissertation which I need to make a decision about really soon.

I have however actually made the decision to return to work. Having done a handful of "keep in touch" days, I feel this is a marvellous idea when I am in the office, and feel it is a terrible idea when I am at home. To be pondered at length at a later time possibly on another blog.

So. That is where my head is. Mostly with Mario.

Mums online

So today started off badly at bedtime last night, the mood is not good. Badly organised bedtime = bad sleep and hectic morning.

During baby's nap this morning, I elected to sit down with a coffee and The Wright Stuff. To find them chortling about the much maligned Mumsnet.

I have reservations about Mumsnet; google lists results from there highly on searches (and indeed other forums) and instead of a sensible answer to your query, you find the opinions of the general public. Who invariably lack specialist knowledge and may write utter drivel. As is the way with forums, you also get incensed arguments from every viewpoint on just about any topic. Idiots are free to post and their opinions are recorded for posterity as long as they adhere to the rules. The rules and etiquette don't allow you to say "you are an imbecile and your opinions are potentially dangerous" so there they are, popping up in your search results. Annoying.

But still. Leave us mums alone. A pet hate of mine is the smugness of those with their interesting media lives mocking those who spend a lot of time online. No, we still don't have anything better to do.

Mumsnet is often targeted: why do mums whine about having so much to do then spend all that time online?

Because of course, when you have a baby you have simply millions of people to speak to... If it is your first baby, you may not know other mothers, you might find your old friends turn a bit glaikit when you bore on about baby and you also are likely to have a million "is this normal??!!!" questions. So you venture online. You find people in the same position. You chat to them. Next time you need to chat, you chat again. It's reassuring. It's companionship.

Later, when you may be feeling aaaaaaaaargh! and at that all-I-do-is-change-nappies stage, you can impart your own knowledge and feel a little bit useful. Never underestimate feeling useful at that stage, it doesn't happen often.

This morning one woman quipped about the women on Mumsnet never leaving the house unless maybe to go to Waitrose.

Welcome to life with a baby. That's what happens. Ho ho, such mirth.

Yes, some über mothers have a full and marvellous life with endless coffee mornings and baby sessions and being out there generally doing things that aren't free to do. But they are not looking for company online, are they? They're at Starbucks with their Real Friends.

I do sort of understand the query as to why mums complain about having no time and then spend time online. But seriously, if you spend hours entertaining, feeding, comforting and generally caring for a baby, and that baby has a nap, are you seriously expected to crack on immediately with chores and not have a spot of feet up time? Should we be being domestic 24/7?

Do people, who are busy with things that aren't children and who complain about having no time, genuinely never watch tv or phone a friend or have a bath, or go to the pub or out for a meal? Never? We all need time out somehow.

You also need to talk to someone, babies aren't the best conversationalists.

Don't get me wrong, I don't LIKE Mumsnet (on account of the idiots, sorry) but please, criticise them for the right reasons instead of insulting all mums.

I need to go now, I'm off out for coffee with a mum friend. The joy of a second baby is that you do know mums now. Huzzah.

Happy birthday Mr Dickens

Charles Dickens was born on 8th February 1812, which makes this the 200th anniversary of his birth.

You will of course know this due to attending all the Dickens Dinners and the general celebration of all things Dickens. What, you haven't?

I was reminded that it was the bicentenary - of the arrival of an infant Dickens - by an email from Lovereading. Why wasn't I bombarded with this? He was one of the greatest writers of all time, if not the greatest, and provided us with much of our view of Victorian England. What would have been his 200th birthday should be a cause for celebration, should it not? Google acknowledged it, as they do, but there was little said elsewhere.

Living in a country which goes potty over Burns, who wrote poetry, I fail to understand why the English/British don't remember their great writers, namely Dickens and Shakespeare. Admittedly they don't know for sure what Shakespeare's date of birth was, but they do know he was baptised on 26 April so that'd be a good day to celebrate him. And as for Dickens, they do know when he was born; today was the 200th anniversary. Significant, no? Just me?

I think it is maybe a measure of the Scots and our fiercely patriotic tendencies, but we dedicate a day (and gain yet another excuse to don a kilt and get drunk) to our most famous writer. Who wasn't as talented or prolific as either Dickens or Shakespeare. I categorically dismiss claims that Burns was Scotland's answer to Shakespeare.


28 April shall become Ian Rankin day sometime. Honestly it will. Maybe just in Fife, but it will.

Come on England, remember your famous sons!

I raise a cup of coffee to Mr Dickens, thank him for his legacy and renew my vow to get on with reading his works...

Perfect skin

It's about make up. I am, after all, a girl. Yes, girl. Ok. I am a woman. Grr.

Due to my ongoing preoccupation with my face and the fact that it is unhidden by tresses, I have been forced to investigate the wearing of make up.

Not that I am unfamiliar with the wearing of it, I adore make up and own many many different types (mostly lipsticks, a woman can never have too many). But I rarely get made up, I don't take the time. On nights out and when I need to look "done", I do like to look pretty and all, but on a day to day basis, nah. To be honest, being clean and having my hair brushed is as good as it gets, and in this brilliantly cold weather, the latter gets eschewed in favour of donning a hat and forgetting about it.

Which goes awry if I end up going somewhere where I have to take the hat off, as the hat-hair that emerges is a bad hair day's bad hair day.

But, back to the neglected face. It looks a bit, well, like I need a spot of make up. I have discovered a new product. It calls itself a miracle: Garnier Miracle Skin Perfector. It is "based" on BB (Blemish Balm) creams, which seem to be the new black for faces, but for £9.99 I'll go with "based on", over £30 "actually".
I like. It is essentially a tinted moisturiser, it goes on like a moisturiser (so takes seconds) and looks like it's not there. Except my skin looks nice.
Huzzah!

And then, if I'm feeling extra generous with my time, I can add on the beautifully overpriced Yves St Laurent blusher (now apparently just called blush) and mascara I spent all my birthday money on, and one of the 56,000 lipsticks or glosses that I own, et voila! A face to be seen in.

Ageing disgracefully

Periodically I catch sight of myself and am surprised to see a middle aged person looking back at me out of the mirror. The short hair and specs add to this; I look and feel kind of old. As do my peers, I'm sorry to say. We ain't young no more.

My children add to this feeling of decrepitude by talking about my youth as "the past" and asking what I did before television was invented. Incidentally, I don't go there with computers and phones, they can't comprehend it.

But.

I don't care. I wouldn't want to be younger again. I would have less confidence, more insecurities and less of the things that bring me joy now.

I don't worry about things that worried me even just five years ago, but I care more about the world as a whole, about our future and the existence that lies ahead for my children. I am interested in more and more as I get older, and that's great. I want to know about what's going on, I guess I want to be a part of it, albeit a very quiet part.

I hope I have more than half my life still to lead, so I'm not really very old. But I do think I finally feel like a grown up. And I like it.
Even if I do play too much Mario.

February is here

Hmm. It seems to be the 5th of February. Oops.

Which does mean that I forgot the birthday yesterday of someone who used to be very important. Which is a bit sad. Not that it was their birthday, but that it doesn't matter that I forgot, because they couldn't care less.

I've got another to-be-forgotten birthday next week but I have more self respect than to spend another moment thinking about that one.

The date also means I haven't blogged for a while.

What have I been doing?
Playing with my 3DS mostly.

I have Ghost Recon: Shadow Wars, which is a turn by turn strategy game. I like it a lot. I'm spectacularly bad at first person shooters, so lining my men up and telling them to shoot is far better. This game also shows the 3D effect off splendidly.

Mario 3D is defeating me. There is no invincibility cheat in the Special World, so the tricky levels are tricky. Although to be fair, the tricky levels normally involve Luigi falling off things rather than being stung by an enemy. I am Luigi still, who doesn't seem to have a purpose. Nobody to defeat, nobody to rescue. He is fun, especially when he wins a level and way heys in the most camp manner imaginable.

But behold the greatest game ever. Mariokart 7. Now mine.
Everything you'd expect from a Mariokart title. Except no challenges like the previous DS title had. Boo. 4 new cups and 4 retro ones. New features include customisable karts, a parachute to float down from heights, a flower item to shoot flames at opponents, all seven items as one item pick up and probably other things I have either not found yet or have forgotten.

In other news, I've been on my annual jolly to Glasgow, which was, as usual, ace and should be more often than annually.

I have had my hair cut properly short. Possibly an error, I lack the prettiness of face required to carry off the Face On Display thing.

Blogging excuse: not been very well with infected finger and a cold. Poor old me.

Green (ish)

It turns out I am as green as a cucumber.
Maybe the inside, ok.

On my current quest to commence greatness* as of February 1st, I've been reading up on how to be greener. I'm not very good at being green; we have very little in the way of services for recycling and I rarely manage to save more than paper and bottles. I drive a petrol car to places I don't need to go to. Disposable nappies are firmly established. Etcetera.

But now it seems I have a feather in my ecological cap. For I am super green with my laundry.

I do not own a tumble dryer. As I also do not own a garden to house a washing line, this is actually very goodly of me. We previously had a washer dryer and I didn't use it as a dryer. Therefore, in the Great Washing Machine Death of 2010, the washer dryer was replaced by a washing machine. We have many clothes horses and a humidity problem.

Green brownie points: 45,000

I do all my washing at 40. Not 30 because it makes it all smell icky. This was confirmed by a washing machine engineer (who popped round regularly in the later months of the old machine). 30 isn't hot enough, even if Unilever tell you it is (15 is made up altogether). No boil washes for me though. 40 does fine.

Green brownie points: 5 (because if I really cared about being green I'd just have the smell).

Dry cleaning is something I reserve for suede or leather, or things that would break the washing machine. Everything else does fine on a cold wash.

Green brownie points: 100.

Ironing. Nuh uh. I very rarely iron. We mostly wear clothes that don't need ironed, or just look a little rumpled. Shirts get ironed, as do properly crumpled things. Most things are ok.

Green brownie points: 10. It doesn't use THAT much energy.

It's good to be green, even if it is entirely inadvertent.

* new resolutions on Feb 1st. Details to follow.

Becoming happy

So I've missed a few days again.
It's not daily. Not any more. Most is ok.

I am reading a little ebook, of the free variety, which is 52 ways to improve your life or something similar. I have so far read 1-13 and feel the need to share in a paraphrasing sort of way.

So, suggestion number 1 is the concept of treating others as you would wish to be treated. Sadly I don't have millions of pounds to rain upon other people and that's how I'd really like to be treated. Being unfacetious, I THINK I do this. Where I know I fail, I don't expect. Ooh. Idea! Do the things that I'd like other people to do.

I think that might be what they meant.

Number 2 suggests replacing "I should" with "I choose to".
I choose to make my house tidy. I don't believe me. Failed already.

Number 3 wants me to stop interrupting and listen better. I know I need to do this. Will try harder.

Number 4 reminds me I'm supposed to be appreciating people. Telling them why I like them.
I do this. Sometimes. Not necessarily to the right people.

Number 5. Don't judge people by first impressions. I do know this from experience due to being woefully bad at reading new people.

Number 6 is all about buying classic clothes and dressing for success. Hmmm. That requires funds and a non expanding body. I shall continue with the bag lady look for now until I either fit back into the majority of my clothes or money starts falling out of the sky onto me.

7 - be positive about myself. If I was able to do this I wouldn't be reading books about how to improve my life. Annoyed now. Everything can be positive. Yada yada, the lack of money makes me more inventive. There. A positive statement. I win! Woo.

Number 8 is suggesting I need to plan what I want to happen. To visualise situations as I would like them to be.

And still nobody throws money at me. I'm visualising that really well and nothing has happened.

9 and I've to be a less dictatorial leader. I am to stop telling the children what to do? Hmm.

It's losing me now by 10, which wants me to work on teamwork. I have to treat my family as a team and value all members.

The baby seriously doesn't pull her weight, we can't be expected to be a cohesive team.

Hmmm. What can 11 do to win me back? I shouldn't work so hard.

Done! Next?

At 12 I need to consider what motivates me. Money. And kudos but mostly money.

The bots will be liking the money references. Hiya bots!

And my last one to date: number 13 is clutter busting. Yes, I agree, this will probably solve all my woes in one fell swoop of mad sorting. One day.

So far so meh.

Super Luigi

More Mario, sorry, I'm not doing much else. Mariokart 7 is in my basket awaiting payday, I'll spraff on about that in time.


Special world one mission: rescue Luigi. Once completed, you can play as Luigi.

Luigi is my favourite Mario character, along with Daisy, the original princess before Pe-ach stole the title.

An aside there. For those who have played Mariokart, the SNES version, the vindictiveness of the princess is known. Known as the bitch, which also could be be-atch. Obviously the character couldn't be called Princess Bitch, so Pe-ach is a close substitute.

Likewise, playing Boo at Mario Tennis will indicate how he earned the name 'king Boo. Not King, 'king.

Back to Luigi. I'm not sure what he's doing in Special World 2, other than dying a lot. I guess he's rescuing someone. Or is it just revenge? Luigi isn't the vengeful type. Hmm.

Special Mario

Ooh. Ooh. Ooh!

So it turns out that Mario 3D isn't a waste of money after all. I finished the game today, and I only had to do, erm, most of world 8 using the invincible cheat. This took me 12 hours and 44 minutes, over the course of 2 weeks. Not a lot, I hear you say. I beat Bowser and rescued the princess and so the game was finished.

But ho and lebold! A whole new world (a new fantastic point of view, oops sorry) has opened up. Special worlds, with the entire game again. Special worlds 1 to 8. Except really hard.

New Mario suit: raccoon suit with a neckerchief, which means if you pound jump, Mario turns into stone/lead/something and smashes whatever you're pounding. And that's all I've found so far. World S1-1 done, one medal found.

I shall report back with more at a later date.

The post for 23 January - finally!

Oh welcome back Blogpress! It works again. It wasn't (which was iTunes not doing the update) and I had I use Blogger: the app, which didn't have a lot of features. Blogger: the site, doesn't work well at all on the phone, and I don't have a functional PC I can stand to use.

To recap the original post, I am catching up on Sherlock, which is universally acknowledged as being Very Good. And it is. I am also looking forward to the return of Pan Am at the weekend which is mindlessly enjoyable.

As I can input photos correctly, here goes a couple of things that caught my eye.

The defence against potential lawsuits of packaging does result in some lunatic disclaimers - peanuts may contain nuts - but the illustration on my noodles does presume a certain lack of intelligence.




This "bargain" caught my eye in the supermarket





Oh Blogpress, I love you. Welcome back indeed.

Hate and Loathing in Lost Values

I have a hobby: shouting at David Cameron on the TV. It is quite a satisfying habit as they very often follow footage of the oafish Cameron and his words of misery with coverage of the unable-to-speak Ed Miliband (how did that happen?) and the permanently sheepish Nick Clegg. Much shouting all round.

Talking of Clegg, I naively believed him when he talked of influencing from within. I am a fool. He lied, he sold his soul, and that of his voters, for the sake of a seat on the cabinet. I have never been so disappointed in any human being ever. All the people who voted not-Tory and voted Liberal got Tory.

But still. We have what we have (sadly) and us* in Scotland are champing to vote for independence. Cameron has shifted us from meh to WE WANT IT NOW with regards to a referendum.

* yes I know it's not all of us. Ok.

I didn't vote for it, which makes me entitled to complain that they're there. I'm still shocked that anyone can understand what Tory policies are and still vote for them.

Ah. The key word there is understand. I think all that was understood was "not labour" and so off they trotted to vote for a party that is openly against so much that is good. They, being the general public, who are mostly ignorant fools. Apparently.

Anyway. I have digressed. Lucky nobody reads this because I shouldn't ever talk about politics. It comes across wrongly.

The point. There is one, somewhere, and it is that I have issue with pretty much every single thing that Cameron says. To be fair I'd argue black was white if he suggested it was blackish, but most of the time I genuinely disagree.

They want to scrap child benefits for "rich" families. Those earning incomes over threshold for higher tax.

Which is about £48k pa.

Last time I checked, this didn't make you rich. If you earn £48k, you could buy a property worth up to £170k. A quick check at property prices indicates the level of mansion you could get for that.

A modest 3 bed to be precise, in a cheap area of the country.

George Osborne was bleating on about how much they could save and Cameron was mewling about people on £40k not being equal to those on £80k and it how they need to look further into it and not once does it seem to have occurred to them that they need to raise the threshold, that current levels penalise middle income earners. Not the rich.

Surprise!

Actually it probably has occurred long since but they undoubtedly like the extra revenue and definitely don't care much about real people.

Cameron is like us you know. If we are all toffee nosed rich boys.

Done now. Normal inanity resumed tomorrow.

Blogging success and the lack thereof

Well, 21 days gone and I haven't blogged for 3 of them.
Oops.

Not giving up.
Mildly chastising self and pledging keeping going.
18/21 ain't bad. It's most days, not every day. I'm sure I clarified that. We'll get there.

"We" being me, Sam, people
In my head and a number of bots. Woooo. Apologies if you're not a bot, I'm not saying you're bot-like, just that statistically, we are pretty much all bots.

Look. I didn't actually call YOU a bot. If you're reading then you're real. Get over it.

I did for a while wonder at why I had a cult following in Russia.
I don't.

Because my blog is "low volume" I attract these bots that don't even read it, they just want me to look at their site. Which is very rude, but such is the way of the bot. They wouldn't bother if I had a lot of hits, because I wouldn't notice them. Which I suppose is rude of me in turn, so we are all to blame.

Come back real people. Please. See off the attention seeking bots that nobody reading this is like at all.

Apparently I need to do things like link back to old posts, post interesting things, frequent the net generally and pimp my blog out there.

I do none of the above. No linking posts because I have no recollection of what I wrote before, nor does my blogger app have the capability of linking.

Interesting? That belies the purpose.

Getting out there and bigging the blog requires levels of social activity that is beyond me. The sites I used to frequent and pick up readers from seem to have dwindled.

So it's back to being interesting again.

Dammit.

2012, the year that works

Well, due to having a birthday last week, I failed to acknowledge the need for resolutions aside from the perpetual need to shift the belly. So now it is time to contemplate what it is I want to have achieved by the end of 2012.

Having been dieting for precisely 48 hours, it is galling not to be slim yet, but I shall persist. I know how good it feels to succeed and FINALLY my head seems to be in the right place, which isn't the fridge.

I'm going to embrace FLYlady and get the clutter out, the sink shining and the house generally ready to sell, for we need at least 2 more rooms and despite hoping and hoping, no extra rooms have sprung up here. A house move is an essential for this year.

By completing one 15,000 word dissertation that I've basically written, I can claim my MSc and use that as a fresh start to my unimpressive CV.
"and I didn't know what it was I wanted to do until I realised I was destined to be a *insert job applied for*" Hopefully this year a perfect, well paid, satisfying job with a full time crèche will fall into my lap. As they don't.

I speak of how brilliantly Dickens wrote, how much I enjoy his books and so on. It is true, except I have only read in full "A Christmas Carol" and didn't even read the other Christmas Books in the volume. I am aware of the stories involved in his other works but haven't actually read them, although I have read many bits of them. As mentioned before, I'm starting with Great Expectations, which I have had emailed to me in daily instalments and still failed to read. To read the entire works this year would seem entirely unlikely but I am pledging to read a few. Well, at least one.

There's some vague things to do which seem idiotic to have to make a note to do: watch the DVDs I've bought, play the games etc.

This I shall write each day, or try to.

And I shall endeavour to go to bed a little earlier, as well as being a better mother/wife/daughter/friend. Y'know, the stuff I should do anyway.

Oh, and for the record, it's 2013 that's the year for doing interesting things. Ha.

Daily blogging

I'm going to do it.

Today however has been dedicated to a teething baby, boisterous six year olds and the resulting sleep catch up and brain decay.

So there's not a lot to say.

Watching: Masterchef, Stargazing Live, One Born Every Minute (and being grateful Neighbours is back after the Christmas break).

Listening to: David Guetta. No, I didn't see that coming either.

Reading: Charles Dickens, Great Expectations just now. His complete works are on my Kindle, we'll see how that goes.

Home button blues

Argh. The joys of being an iPhone user. I'm not sure why exactly I am on my second iPhone, I seem to genuinely believe I would be less happy with another phone and so I had to replace my useless 3G with an iPhone 4. Excellent phone, very happy, love my apps and all is good.

When it works.

I have a deep distrust of Apple and their updates. The 3G was unusable slow once iOS 4 came out. See all these lovely features! They will break your phone! The time came to upgrade and I said "no, I don't like the fact that I have to commit to two years with a phone that will undoubtably be unusable before the two years are up" and meant to buy a Sony Ericsson. And then I got an iPhone 4 and threw myself at the mercy of Apple periodically breaking devices so you upgrade.

We were happy together until yesterday. My unresponsive home button does seem to be a software issue because a number of tricks can restore it temporarily. If it is a hardware issue, which is a possibility, then there are a couple of issues which could certainly contribute to the button developing a fault. Apple have this obsession with minimalism and definitely place style over function in some respects. One sole button is a lunatic choice. Apple previously showed this genius with their one-buttoned mouse.

The home button does everything and so it is used constantly. Also, there is no cover over the power inlet, so it is unprotected and open to fluff, damp and little bits of damaging debris. A little cover, as featured on most non-Apple devices, would protect it, but it would make the device less sleek and would interrupt the smooth lines. So, no cover.

Some googlage revealed the following tricks to restore the functionality to the home button:

1) open a native application, hold down the power button until "slide to power off appears". Release the power button and gently press the home button until the home screen returns.

2) close all apps. Some apps seem to cause this. In my case it seems to be Safari.

3) run the camera app in the background at all times.

4) admit defeat and turn on the on screen home button. Settings>general>accessibility options>accessibility button on.

1) works for me, but the problem comes back.

2) and 3) don't work for me

4) makes me despair. It does work but is annoying onscreen, and raises the question of why Apple saw the need to provide such an option rather than fixing the actual problem. I fail to see how it aids accessibility so should be listed under "Usability options for things that break".

I think I need to defect to Android finally. In 9 months when I can...

Hangover

Bleurgh. Being somewhat out of practice of the old drinking thing, I forgot how awful hangovers are.

Good night out, followed by 3am sickness. Poor sleep, punctuated by thumping head and shivers. Surprise sickness later on didn't help much either.

The cure, as every drunkard Scot knows, is Irn Bru. Having dispatched grumpypants to procure some Irn Bru, with the desperate instruction of "even if it's Iron Brew", imagine my displeasure when he returned with no juice at all. Not even Pepsi Max which is my drink of choice usually and which was half price. "you said Irn Bru" he protested, having refused to buy Iron Brew on principle.

10pm I got my Irn Bru, for that is when I was well enough to go out myself.

It was good.

A moment of feminist ranting

Excluding those I live with, I lead an entirely female companioned existence. Most of the time I think that I miss being around men and then I remember that actually, men are pretty rubbish.

When things look good there's always a man (or two) to bring you back down to your place.

Rar.

That's all. Back to normal now...

A bank by any other name

Virgin.

Ptooee, for one needs to spit after uttering that word in reference to the company, which that was.

No, to be fair, everything attached to the moniker Virgin is not awful. Virgin trains, for example, run the truly fabulous Pendolinos. Virgin Media give me TV and, while not perfect, are a million times better than they were when they were Telewest. Virgin Records weren't hateful, nor is Branson himself.

I should be more precise with my bile. My hatred in this instance lies with Virgin Money. Ptoooee. The providers of the biggest rip off credit card I have ever had the misfortune to own. MBNA were the actual perpetrators of misery but Virgin Money put their name to it and made that name synonymous with unscrupulous and exploitative.

Unlike other financial institutions of course who as a one are lovely and caring, putting their customers first and doing what they can to maximise interest and minimise... I can't finish that, even facetiously.

And there I was innocently watching Channel 4 News, when along came a quite stunning advert for Virgin and the things they've done over the last 40 years. Because they run Pendolinos they will make Northern Rock (as was) a thoroughly nice bank. They're not going to do what other banks do.

Really? Do tell me more. What, no specifics?

Then they use the magic "this is how you can tell we're lying" words: Virgin Money. Eeee eeee eeee! Alarm! Virgin Money are shiny and aesthetic, and will take every penny they can off you.

Besides, Nationwide said all that "we're not like other banks, we're not even a bank" once, then they had the change and they too stole my last penny and charged me for taking it. Sob!

It is a rather lovely advert however. Watch it. Directed by über-director Duncan Jones, aka, or previously known as rather, Zowie, son of David Bowie. His first two films, Moon and Source Code, are magnificent, and so is this advert. A shame it is for a bank, and a bank with such a name.

Mario time

So I'm probably too old to play Mario. That doesn't stop me, I can discuss baddies with my six year old.

Having owned a 3DS and Super Marioland 3D for one day, I feel qualified to comment on it. I may possibly have spent rather a lot of that day playing it, of course.

The 3D aspect is a gimmick, quite cool but doesn't really add or detract anything to gameplay.

This is a standard Mario game with progression through worlds and levels, with a boss level at the end. The appearance is a lot like Mario Galaxy but playing is more Super Mario DS. One DS detail is that Mario can stow an additional power up item, but in this game he can switch back and forth between the item he is using and the one in the box.

So far Mario has mostly used his raccoon power up as he has a lot of levels that floating helps on. This also allows him to kill enemies with a swish of his tail. After a few failed attempts at a level, a box appears with a gold raccoon leaf in it, this makes Mario invincible and with all the raccoon powers. It does not make him invincible to falling off edges and I do that a lot, leading to the discovery of a goal flag, which takes you straight to the goal. I haven't tried that, seems a bit pointless.

As usual, Nintendo have included a homage to past Mario titles; one level has the classic stepped brick climb to the flag at the end, except here it is 3D and you can walk around it. Which is nifty.

The gameplay here is good, it is very much a 3D version of the old DS gam and fits well as the next title in the series.

Good points:

It's a Mario game.

Ability to save and swap power ups is a great feature.

Cheaty invincible raccoon thing means you can finish a level you're stuck on, but still collect medals and actually do the level.

It saves after every level.

The controls are pretty instinctive, except power jump.


Bad things:

I've finished world 2 after only a day. The levels are too short and not that hard.

The power jump is located on the left and right paddles. As these are easy to press by accident, Mario often plummets to his death halfway through a jump. Very, very annoying.


As to the 3DS, it's everything you'd expect. The 3D is quite cool, being able to take 3D photos is pretty exciting, although I haven't tried to take them off the 3DS yet. The included games are a bit rubbish, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with Streetpass automatically sharing stuff with anyone that also has a 3DS. I'm guessing that the average demographic of 3DS users differs somewhat from me, but I live in hope to receive a new Mii.

Yes, Mii. I love Miis. This can be created from a photo on the 3DS, so it's actually quite good.

I don't know how this compares to the DSi as I've never owned one, but it compares very well to the DS Lite. And of course if you want to play the new Mario titles, including Mariokart 7, which will be purchased very soon, then you need it. Yes, need.

11 January 1865

Gosh I'm old.

But it is my birthday and I did receive a Nintendo 3DS with SuperMario Land 3D, so sadly I no longer have time to blog...

(this may be rectified tomorrow when my eyes have gone wonky).

Spiral

When the BBC discover something marvellous, why do they hide it on BBC4? Why does BBC1 show and heavily advertise total atrocities yet fail to draw attention to actual brilliance?

I am thinking in particular of Spiral, or to give it its French name, Engrenages. Which actually translates as Gears, not spiral, but I guess there's a translation related explanation.

This is superb tv. It is essentially a police drama, with gripping story lines and realistic, sympathetic characters.

The lead characters consist of the police crime team, the Prosecutor (which is a position we don't seem to have called Procurer), lawyers and one of the judges. With the exception of the impossibly handsome Prosecutor and one of the police nicknamed Tin Tin, all the characters are teetering on the brink of cocking up big time at all times. Their methods are unorthodox, their private lives are a mess and they are constantly in trouble.

Thanks to LoveFilm, we have been catching up on the existing series of Spiral. It's amazing. And it's in French, which naturally makes it better. With subtitles, thankfully, but the sort of subtitles that pretty much make you forget you're reading them, except to ponder such things as "I'm sorry" not being nearly as pleasant as "J'ai desole".

Series 3 commenced tonight in our house. Episode one, and all continues as before. Brilliantly.

Gregory Fitoussi, the Prosecutor. Possibly the fittest man in the world.
(I'm not broken! Hurrah!)

Birthweek

I've upgraded. One day seems hardly sufficient to contemplate the vast number of years I've been alive, so this year I'm having a week.

Yes, I am too old to care. Pfffffth to that.

Normally I strop and humph my way through the days surrounding my birthday in a fug of "nobody cares, boo, the last year has been a disaster" etc.

Not this year.

Last year I had a chronic neck injury and was abstinent from alcohol, and fun. So I did nothing for my birthday aside from a lunch, and felt very middle aged and rubbish.

This year I am celebrating nicely, with alcohol and good friends (as well as people I'm trying to be friends with who sadly seem to be resisting but I live in hope). While simply being another year older isn't all that, I do feel I need to celebrate my little girl arriving, my neck being cured, and my successful bid for an unsuitable gift.

Who's shallow and materialistic?

I did also have a relatively good shot at nearly dying so I do feel quite jubilant about still being alive.

Me me me me me me me me me me.

Wednesday is the actual anniversary of my birth. Just so you know. I'll be 852.

Beasties

One of the things I dislike most about summer is the constant stream of insects. I don't like insects at all, with the exception of bees who are clever and generally unannoying.

My pet hates are daddy long legs and moths. They get in the house and then when it's dark they run amok. Moths fly towards any light, which is particularly irksome when the only light is the nightlight you are reading by. Daddy long legs are a mystery of survival, they are ungainly and appear to have no purpose or aim in their pursuits.

Anyway. The joy of winter is the vanishing of these horrible creatures. I do not appreciate the mild weather making year round insect infestation.

I have bites on my leg. I guess insects that thrive on blood don't rely on warm weather, but I still feel wronged. Insect bites are a summer irritation, I don't expect them in January.

This afternoon I put a spider out of the window. I don't dislikes spiders, they eat insects which makes them heroes in my book. But where there is a spider there must presumably be insects, and and so the clement weather must be allowing them to survive. Not on!!

As a fan of winter and disliker of hot weather, I put forward arguments as to why winter is superior. The lack of insects is a biggie, so to have that removed is unfair and such cheatery by the sun worshippers.

The final insult from the insect world, is the beasties setting up home in my children's head, presumably picked up at a trip to a soft play centre last week. Revenge is mine however, they are being annihilated as we speak and I'm a dab hand at insect disposal of all types, so the comb and I make short work of removing any visible beasties.

Hate insects. Vile and horrible (except bees).

Meet the veggies

There won't be any meeting of any veggies, I am afraid the title is a bit misleading and a result of a rather unfathomable obsession with Mr Bloom of Mr Bloom's Nursery and a very catchy tune entitled, astonishingly, "Meet the Veggies".

I'd link if I could. Google will help you if you care, but know not who he be or what I'm on about.

Anyway. It's a new year, again, and despite my defence of my birthday month as not being one for detox and deprivation, I do feel I need to address my general slothfulness and weight gain.

My weight has never been what you'd call a source of joy to me. It caused me considerable less duress than usual in 2009 when I shed all the excess weight to become normal weighted. Not thin, just not overweight. This was nice. Complacency set in as it tends to and I gained about 10lb over the next year and a bit, so last January I decided to shift it.

I joined Weightwatchers online, mostly because they have an iPhone app and I am a sad git. But also because it was Weightwatchers that helped me shed the three stone.

The excessive amounts of Tramadol I was taking while I was dieting may have had some appetite suppressant effect. Who knows. I shall deny that as a possibility. I ate less, I lost wheens of weight. My secret was to have Saturday off if I'd lost weight that week so if I really needed a treat, I'd have it on Saturday. Something worked anyway so I thought I'd try again.

2011 started, Weightwatchers started, 4lb lost and then I discovered I was pregnant. Woohoo! Freedom to eat doughnuts! WW were very nice and refunded my membership too.

In both of my pregnancies I gloried in the ability to pretty much eat what I wanted/could manage. After both pregnancies I was slimmer than before due to not managing much. After both pregnancies I proceeded to gain weight rapidly due to continuing to eat what I wanted and could now manage in copious amounts. The hunger took over.

So here I am. I seem to be hovering at a intermediate size just now which is not quite the size of a house but not far off. Approximately the size of a chalet or so. Either my scales are broken or I'm staying the same weight. Which isn't a good weight but it's not getting worse. I was pleased to discover that it hadn't crept up after a few weeks of not-weighing-myself denial, then I ate Christmas fayre voraciously and then was very sick (unconnectedly) for a few days. Result? Same weight as before the voraciousness.

Put it this way, I've got approaching two of the three stones to shed again, although it is a little over one stone to be back in the normal range again. But I did have a baby so I'll cling to that for a while. I have till her first birthday to legitimately have a paunch.

My paunch, my rules.

You would be correct to note that there has been very little mention of veggies.

For a couple of years I was vegetarian. Sort of. I didn't forsake gelatine or similar and I didn't stay off, erm, black pudding very long. Or haggis. It's flesh I have issue with, ok?

This came about by simply going off meat and fish. I remain off fish to this day partly because of ethical reasons, and stayed off red meat until I was pregnant when I really fancied burgers. Chicken and non fleshy meat things came back after a year or so.

But, due to another unfathomable obsession with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and the receipt of his veg cookbook for Chrismas, I'm thinking I'll go veggie again. It's easier to be diet friendly with vegetarian food, and it'll stop me eating snack scotch eggs.

Hugh did impress me by having a similar sort of argument to mine as to why we should eat less meat and fish (sustainability) and also because he likes to make the vegetable the star, rather than substituting with quorn or soya at every stage and having faux meat dishes.

Certain vegetables/pulses are fabulous. Cauliflower. Chick peas. Courgettes. Other ones that don't start with C. Hmm. Butternut squash. Broccoli. Edamame beans. Artichokes.

Definitely artichokes. They're hard to buy mostly. Grr.

Salad is also good. Iceberg lettuce is one of the greatest foods on earth so my salads always lack a little sophistication unless I have rocket in which case my salad resembles a pile of rocket.

And I am a big fan of mushrooms. Unsophisticated mushrooms though, I'm not that keen on ones that look like sea creatures. Mushroom risotto should be knighted for services to easy to cook and delumptious dinners.

Meat will be off the menu once I've eaten the stuff in the freezer and had a farewell Chicken and Cashew Nut. Sometime soon after my birthday. Maybe the first of February so I don't actively give anything up in January, just to make a point to nobody.

Meantime I'm going to experiment with a beetroot tart tatin and some fried polenta. And make a raspberry pavlova so that the raspberries purchased to be in a pavlova don't suffer the humiliation of being a healthy snack.

I shall also ponder at what point I stopped ogling attractive men and just moved onto "men".

Epiphany

So that's Christmas well and truly over again. Boo. I like Christmas. I dutifully removed all the decorations yesterday as one is meant to, and checked carefully around the house for the one I had missed, for there is always one. Sure enough, when leaving the house today there was the sort-of-wreath on the front door. Because I checked the whole of the INSIDE of the house, of course, not the outside. Missed the deadline again. Like every year.

Today is Epiphany. The day the wise men arrived in Bethlehem to pay respect to the baby Jesus. The last day of the celebration of Jesus' birth, before we start winding up to celebrate his demise.

Incidentally, I do accept the story of Jesus as a historical figure, but I do think of it as being more Life of Brian than King James' Bible. Still, it doesn't do any harm to think about the "true meaning of Christmas" and try to come up with an answer for the children that isn't "gifts" or "it's all a load of lies".

There has been a poster up for a few weeks opposite a set of traffic lights I pass through for most places I go. So I've studied it a lot. It says something along the lines of:

"God loved us so much that he sent us his only son so that those who believe could have eternal life".

I have issues with this.

Couldn't God, all powerful creator, simply:

1) mysteriously impregnate any virgin/woman (why did it have to be a virgin? Surely God would know if she was pregnant to another?) to have more sons?

2) just say "right, you have eternal life"?

Obviously you have to believe in God in the first place to believe there is an afterlife, so saying you don't get in unless you believe is pointless. I don't get in a tizzy about not being able to go to places that I don't think exist, so why should anyone else?

And I don't really get why having his son amongst us being persecuted and then executed helps the cause. It doesn't give the impression that being a fan of God is a good thing.

I don't understand it at all.

I don't mean any offence by the above, I'm just asking the questions that come to me. Which I believe is offensive, but that's another matter.

FLYing without sanity

In October 2010, I read an article that told me about FLYlady. An incentive to declutter and clean, according to her doctrines.

Which mostly boils down to do a little, achieve a lot. FLYing come from the acronym FLY, which means to Finally Love Yourself. Love yourself, stop being a perfectionist, look after your appearance and your home, and feel that you are blessing your home and your family with every little chunk of housework that you do. Get organised, never clean again. Swish away every day and never see dirt again.

You start with a clean sink. Then you have to keep it clean, which tends to mean the area around the sink gets clean too. Each day you also get sent that days "flight plan", which focuses on a room each week and gives a specific task for that day.

Marvellous. I signed up, it's all free, and had a shiny sink and pretty clean kitchen for a while. I lapsed, as is the way, and have never really got back. But I get the emails every day. All seven million of them. Have done since October 2010.

Now you see, FLYlady is certifiably insane. Aside from the blessing thing and God blowing breezes of difficulty to help you on the path to sanctity, she is also bonkers. And very very American. I don't mean that offensively, but she constantly pushes her products which can only be shipped to the US, and she seems to think all FLYbabies (for that is what we become) have a certain not-very-British lifestyle. She also uses American-ish language.

I do not possess the following which FLYlady seems to assume I do:

A basement
Spare rooms for sleeping/playing/doing mad things in
A tumble drier

Periodically she suggests you clear things to the basement or into another bedroom that you don't use. Righto.

Laundry in FLYworld consists of wash, dry, put away. No ironing. Ever. I'm not sure what she does with shirts.

To be a successful FLYbaby you must arise each morning and dress fully, with hair and make up done, before any of the rest of your family are up. And it is imperative that you put on shoes, lace up shoes at that, or you won't feel motivated to clean and clear. Ok.

FLYlady is big on her control journal. Here you write down your daily tasks and all your important data so that you know what you're doing, and so does anyone else that has to step in. A family calendar is essential for organisation.

Um. I have an iPhone and Google. Thanks but I'm sorted.

I also have two apps on my phone - Home Routine and Errands. Errands alerts me periodically to remind me that I meant to clean the kitchen floor or similar. And I dismiss them, so they alert me again. And again ad infinitum.

The emails arrive in endless trickles of madness. A daily flight plan, and then many sales emails, testimonials from sometime ever, and motivational tips on just about everything. Get fit! Wear better clothes! Woah. I just want to get tidy.

So. Her premise is that you can do anything for 15 minutes. Each of the daily tasks should take less than 15 minutes, and to declutter you do 15 minutes at a time. She advocates a timer for the 15 minutes so you know when to stop/change. She has a strategy for crisis cleaning to get out of CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome) which involves timing 15 minutes in one room, then moving to another room and doing another 15 mins. And so on. Makes sense, does work. You don't finish a room, when the 15 minutes are up you move on. You'll be back and really, 15 minutes is no time. Before you know it you've done each room twice and the house looks like other people's houses look when they need gutted. Which is progress for me.

But doing hair and makeup before breakfast? Wearing lace up shoes ever? Writing everything down in a non electronic format? She's lost me.

How not to get money

I'm feeling extremely ripped off. I have been selling items on eBay, firstly I sold some maternity items which were very cheap but got them a new home, out of mine and made me a tiny profit.

Then I sold some of my 1980s toys. First up were some Sindy dolls which generated a LOT of interest. I managed to get a small but countable amount of money for these. Grand.

Then I encountered the joy that is PayPal. They take a proportion of the sold fee, but the money paid is held by them until receipt is confirmed by the buyer. According to a patronising response from PayPal to a rant from me, this "protects me" if the buyer raised a dispute, I would have money in my account to refund them.

I do feel immensely protected. Should an unscrupulous buyer rip me off, PayPal would cheerfully reimburse them from my money. Excellent!

This is because I am a new seller apparently and will continue to happen until I have been a seller for 90 days.

How is receipt confirmed? Not, as claimed by PayPal, by sending it recorded delivery. The only way to get the money is by the buyer leaving positive feedback. So if they don't bother or aren't satisfied, I don't get my money until PayPal feels like it, which can be 21 days or more.

That protection again. I'd hate my money to be all unprotected in my bank account where I could spend it and other unsafe things. Shudder. Thank you PayPal.

They also take a full week to credit funds to my bank account. I am told that it is NOT a week, it is 5 working days, not including weekends, which would be clearly idiotic to think of as constituting a week. Transfer on Monday, credited the following Monday. Not a week.

This is to the verified bank account that all payments go into. Complicated. But PayPal remind me it is not a wire transfer and that is why it can't be faster. Right you are.

I have had two people unsatisfied. One who bought a Sindy doll and complained it didn't have a stand. The description stated that the stand wasn't included, but her English isn't good. Or she's over fussy or just horrid. Another was surprised that the 30 year old Ken doll she paid £2 for was a bit worn. As stated.

Today I have the best. I sold two items belonging to my Gabrielle Designs Paddington Bear. Good money raised. The pyjamas and dressing gown were received and acknowledged and all was fine. For the suitcase, I received a message requesting that I post it immediately as it was a christmas present for a niece. I did, full of christmas spirit and all (posting the pyjama package at the same time).

Nothing. Nada. No acknowledgement yet I discovered this morning that they did in fact receive it. They are selling it, for more than twice what they paid me

No response so far to a polite request for feedback, or a question as to why they are selling their nieces Christmas present. I guess a user with nearly 2000 transactions and username of paddybearfan isn't likely to be making a one off purchase for a niece.

So I shall *patiently* wait for PayPal to make up their mind and see what denials can be made by my buyer.

Blowin' in the Wind

'twas a little blowy out today.

95mph at the Forth Road Bridge, resulting in closure of said bridge. Normally not particularly a tragedy - if annoying on principle - people getting stuck this side of the bridge is fine for those of us stuck at home, it was bad today on account of it being my twins' sixth birthday and their grandparents selfishly living on the other side of the bridge.

Incidentally the principle in question regarding the Forth Bridge is due to the non closure of the bridge for 40 years, then last winter during the endless snow they had to close it. Precedent set, it's been closed to all vehicles on at least two occasions this year for wind speeds not unheard of before. I don't believe they would have shut it fully had they not got that first time hurdle out of the way.

I shudder to think what mayhem will unfold should any snow appear this winter. We're primed for last year, because weather is predictable and repetitive in that manner. Major panic and immediate shutdown will undoubtably occur as the total snowfall reaches 4mm. Just. In. Case. Virtually every shop in my town sells snow shovels and the likes. "Be prepared" they tell us, while urging us to fit snow chains to our tyres. No, sorry, we can't repair any roads because we spent the budget on salt.

The last gusty panic mongering winds were nicknamed Hurricane Bawbag, the humour of which escapes me other than the initial mirth at foreigners talking about Bawbag. But the ensuing jokes circulating afterwards just eluded my sense of humour. This did appear to be just me, everyone else got it.

So today, "return of hurricane Bawbag" comments were rife. Today was much worse as well, the damage is quite horrifying and people I know* came seriously close to injury. But the return? No. Hurricanes don't work like that. They move on a letter. The next letter after B is C.

If ONLY there was an amusing word that started with C.

* yes, it's worse if I know them.

12 days of iTunes

I am not loving iTunes. I don't usually love iTunes much on account of it being the guffest piece of software ever to exist, but the non-love is expanding.

Each Christmas they do their "12 days of Christmas" giveaway; every day for 12 days, starting boxing day, they give away a free something. Lovely, but it is highly possible that it is not done out of altruism. No, really.

I have a 16Gb iPhone 4. This is plenty for my normal use, for the number of photos and songs etc I choose to carry. I don't have any videos. That's me, personally, not getting any. I bought a tv episode once, watched it, deleted it. I am very wary of iCloud so I have that backing up my photos only. Distrust distrust.

And so I see that iTunes are offering me a free episode or seven of a tv show or nine. In HD! Brilliant! 1.5Gb a pop. The songs that they give away all come with videos and look, I seem to have run out of space. Hmm. How can I overcome this? What could I do to give myself more room? Maybe a new product? An iPad maybe, or a nice big iPod? Maybe a Mac too?

To accommodate all the things I don't want. That iTunes give me and dupe me into downloading them by making them free for one day only - but what if I wanted it later? I would surely die if I hadn't got it for free! On one day they gave me a song I'd actually already bought at great personal angst (I don't often buy new stuff). On another day they gave me sonic racing which is marvellous (and very mario kart-y). I like that. Ssshh. I dutifully downloaded the Top Gear episodes I won't watch. I have now deleted these. I resisted today's, it was a song I dislike. Sense reigned briefly.

I have had it pointed out to me by Grumpypants that I could download to my computer. I shall not be doing this on account of the following:

My computer is a piece of junk and probably has less free space than my phone.

My computer is a piece of junk and I only use it under duress. Indeed, I will use my kindle to access Internet sites that insist of loading the mobile version on the phone. The Kindle is better than the computer, not least because it can't run iTunes.

If I did want to move anything to my phone, I would have to connect the phone to the computer, and I don't do that for fear of the Bad Things that happen when the phone syncs with iTunes. And a reluctance to spend 16 hours doing the sync.

So. Thanks for Sonic Racing. I won't be buying any Apple products to run it on. Unless I come into some money. In which case I probably would buy a lot of Apple products. Which renders this...

First day of the year

So, it's January 1st.

I'm resurrecting this. We'll see how it goes, a lot depends on Blogpress and how it works - which is an iTunes issue according to the nice developers.

New Year. A non event, as it has been for considerably more years than I've not actively done nothing on purpose. And the 4th year in a row my boys failed to wake for midnight. I got the "why didn't you wake us?" this morning. Because one of you wouldn't wake for love nor money and the other stated categorically that "you were NOT getting up" with a full duvet over head flounce onto the pillow.

I got antsy last night about not saying happy new year till it was the new year. Y'know, like you say "have a good Christmas" until it is actually Christmas Day. Or I do. Maybe you're not that pedantic. You should be.

I sent one "hope it's good" with good intentions, then had a funny turn and sent another after midnight. And I got snippy about group texts and sent individual ones making sure to personalise them, and sent one to the wrong person. So that was stupid. Group texts again next year. I've forgotten some people anyway, I'm sure.

2011 for me consisted of:

Having a baby.

And that's all. Getting pregnant in January meant I seriously did little else. I now have a gorgeous giggling 4 month old girlie and really struggle to think of anything else I truly wish for. The pregnancy cured my neck pain so life for now is relatively normal (if a bit full of children).

But it is new year and a time for making promises I probably won't keep, so my plans for 2012 are this:

* 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.

There's other things like being über organised and a super friend and the likes, but I'll stick with the necessary and see if other habits form that I can look back on.

A meh start to a year of blogging. Which probably won't be anything like daily. We'll see. Rants may be forthcoming...

Happy new year!

What I have been doing

I done made this perfect tiny person:

My daughter. Born 02.09.2011, one month early due to her incubator (me) being a bit broken.

Me, for the next few months

My upcoming preoccupation is revealed here:

And for most it will be, as warned, entirely uninteresting. It's one of those ones for me, you know, and potentially for other people in the same icky boat.

I shall return as me one day.

Be good.

New distraction

Oh neglected blog of mine, I am sorry.

I fear the neglect will be worse as I have moved onto another. For now it is a secret, but all will be revealed in time.

Extremely boringly for most, but hey. It's my blog and I'll bore people stupid on it if I want to.