Reflecting

Today presented itself with many reasons to reflect. The alarm clock shrilled out at 5.50am, with the news of the final hours of John Allen Muhammad, the US sniper who shot down 14 people in the Washington area in 2002, killing 10 of them. The report sent shivers down my spine, as details were given of his last hours, up to and including his death by lethal injection. This news was swiftly followed by more outrage about Gordon Brown's spelling mistakes in his heartfelt letter (in my opinion) to the mother of Jamie Janes. I feel for them - they have lost children in awful circumstances, and the pain for both of them will never go away. So my problems now seem insignificant by comparison, on a day where we also pay homage today to those who died in WW1 and remember all those who have fallen in the name of our country. War is not the answer, we should talk more, as Gordon did to Mrs Janes. Despite the "outrage" from the Sun (trash) newspaper, who is gauging it's own war against the government as it swiftly changes it's political allegiance to suit the country's mood - she now appears to have forgiven him. We should talk more, wage war less and be prepared to forgive. Life is too short.

Moving on

I heard a quote today, and typically of me I cannot remember it word for word. It goes along these lines - "Major changes in our lives rarely happen of our own choosing. It's how we respond to those changes that is important." Or something like that. These last few weeks our uncertain future has become more certain. I for one always think the worse will happen and then I am not disappointed! Redundancy has pulled the rug from under everyone's feet. Those who have been working here for 30 years or more are no more or less terrified of the future than those who haven't been here long. It's a shame that people think "oh it's alright for you, you'll get a decent payout" - well quite frankly I'd rather have a job, and actually no, it isn't alright for me. Money can't compensate for the feeling that I have about going for an interview after so long out of the loop (it will be 32 years by the time the chopper falls). I don't drive either. So my ability to get a job is going to be extremely limited, relying on public transport is not something I'd envisaged doing at my age. My OH will probably end up living out of a suitcase for the rest of his career, as he'll probably have to do a weekly commute to wherever his office is moved to. So much for quality of life. I am not asking for sympathy nor am I wallowing in self pity. Just a little understanding would be nice. Rant over. I AM going to be positive about this major life change. I accept that I can't change others. Just don't drag me down with you!

Today....

...today I began to notice a bit of a change in the atmosphere at work. People went about their business at a much slower, more gentle pace and showed each other a little more kindness. Not that my work colleagues are unkind at all - but from the looks and glances around the room, and comments from people I don't normally speak to, I think we have begun to see a much more caring attitude evolve towards each other. Everyone is hurting. Even those who thought they would love to be made redundant and escape have been caught up in the surge of emotion at the moment. I spoke to someone yesterday who described it as a grieving process, and we should expect to experience a range of emotions over the coming months. A lot of us have "grown up" at work, having been there since we left school. Friendships and marriages have flourished, it's a bit like having an extended family at your fingertips, which is sadly slipping from our grasp. At least we have the luxury of up to 2 years to plan our futures, unlike some redundancies which are imposed almost immediately. I'd like to think a lot of us will manage to stay in touch for many years - this has been an incredible support network for so many people.

Digital miracles

For years I've suffered from Tinnitus. A hangover from my teenage years of listening to loud music through headphones followed by loads of concerts in my twenties and thirties. You know that loud wine you get in your ear after you come out of a gig? No, not your other half! It used to fade away, but some years ago it decided to stay. And get louder. And louder. Until the high pitched ringing started to be louder than the things we are all supposed to hear. Like birdsong. A conspiratorial whisper. Or what someone sitting next to you is saying without having to look at them and try and lipread! As I type, I realise what a virtual tap dance is being played out on the keyboard - it's so loud!! So, much to the delight of my OH - I took myself off to the doctors in February for a hearing test. And guess what? I have what they call "high tone" deafness, and mild hearing loss. This morning I took charge of a minor miracle in the latest digital technology. An "open mould" digital (Siemens, no less) hearing aid. A whole new and noisier world is opening up to me. I had not realised what a muffled environment I had been living in for many years. I hope the Tinnitus will subside - it is believed that as a sufferer gets used to all the "normal" everyday noises around them that the alien ones will fade into the background. For now, I am in awe. I will also be doing more typing on my lovely quiet laptop because the pc is so noisy!!

Electrickery

This morning I nearly killed my husband. Before you all run off to dial 999 it was an accident, honest!! A genuine, bonafide, honest 'injun mix up over what fuse was switched off. He had successfully fitted a new light to our spare bedroom/study. Very nice it looks too. Now it was onto the landing to fit another. He tested it, switching the fuse box back on (is this the right terminology? I know nowt about blasted "electrickery!") but nothing. So he went to check the wiring again. In my half asleep, somewhat hungover state I managed to confuse things over what lights were on or off when he switched the fuse box off. Only he didn't - switch the right one off that is. All I heard was a loud, blood curdling yell, followed by a thud. My heart dropped into my boots and right back up again as my legs turned to lead. As I ran up to look, I dreaded what I would find - but there he was, standing on the landing, screwdriver in hand - grinning at me. "I think I just got electrocuted" he said, shaking his arms and shivering. Luckily it was a low voltage shock, as most household shocks are (as I googled later) but it had left a large cut in one finger and a small burn on his other elbow. The "entry" and "exit" wounds apparently. I feel so guilty, I think my heart was racing for the rest of the day at the thought at what might have happened. And the light fitting? It was fitted perfectly. Neither of us had noticed there was and "on/off" switch on it.

Time for a rant!

Spellcheck


Oh it’s a pet hate of mine. Articles, letters, emails, you name it, anything I happen to read that contains terrible spelling.

The usual culprits which annoy me most…

Loose instead of lose (when you’ve lost something!)

Freind instead of Friend (“i” before “e” except after “c” we were taught at school!)

And don’t get me started on punctuation! I would write a book on it if Eats, Shoots and Leaves had not already been published!

The worse use of grammar one is by the media - “Hotel”. Since when was it “an hotel” with a silent “H”?? The Oxford Dictionary clearly states, as did my English teacher at school that it is “a hotel” and the “h” is definitely NOT silent!!

Proper use of grammar, punctuation and spelling is all being lost in a silent murk of text-speak, email language and the dreaded Americanisation of the spellchecker. No, we do not always use a Z when pluralising words!! I had to type that word twice as the auto-spellchecker changed it to a Z – that really says it all. I have tried to install UK English in my spell checker, but the bloody American software changes it back! Sorry I don’t mean to offend any American readers of my blog.

I don’t have kids, so I am not sure what is being taught in school these days. Most of my grounding in spelling and grammar however, was in Junior school (aged 7-11) and was ingrained in me by the time I went to Secondary school. I guess sloppy use of grammar and so on in the media is not helping, our eyes and ears are seeped with it a lot of the time, so perhaps we are persuaded something is right when it is wrong simply because we see it so often.

But it doesn’t stop me being irritated by it, and here is an ideal opportunity to have a jolly good rant about it! Thanks for listening…..

Work work bizzy bizzy bang bang!!

I haven’t blogged for a while, been busy busy busy! So much is going on at work, loads of people are leaving (taking redundancy) or retiring (early retirement package) so it’s been a round of collections and cards, laughter and tears. The stalwarts of the organisation are leaving, and these are the people I grew up around, as I’ve been there since I left school at 16. It will seem so strange to watch a new bunch of people take over pivotal roles, and interesting to see how well they cope in such tough and demanding times. I have mixed feeling over this. Part of me says that it’s time for a younger bunch to take over, but another part of me is scared for them, I would not want to be in their shoes. Me? I am happy to come in and do a good job and go home again these days. I used to think I wanted to be a manager, but realised I cannot cope with some of the bullying and unfairness that goes on. I just take it all too personally and get too stressed! Life is too precious to let a silly thing like work make you ill. Been there, done that, and don’t want that T shirt any more! So it’s time to knuckle down and get on with what I want to do – my OU course, some writing here and there, and keep my head down until we know what is happening with our jobs!

The race to read

I am a bibliophile. I'm not just someone who likes to read, but someone who truly loves and appreciates all that is to do with books. Not just what beautiful surprises are contained therein, but their aesthetic qualities, their smell (see earlier post!) and what they represent. Someone said to me recently that they thought that the future of books lay in the "ebook" and what can be found online. I have to say I disagree vehemently and hope that they are wrong! Books can contain the works of a lifetime, some of genius, some are just entertaining, some thought provoking and deep. To open the first page and gently crease back the spine as one delves into the unknown is a pleasure that is surely unmatched by typing into a computer or squinting at a small screen to try and read the words on a tiny screen. At this very minute I have a dilemma which consists of "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga, a biography of Francis Bacon, two Doris Lessing novels and about a dozen or so other books bought in recent months. On top of that, a book about Welsh History from the Open University beckons as I start a short course in April. Books represent so much that I have become today, and indeed what I would love to do in the future. Our apartment is full of them. I do try and offload some from time to time but every loss is heart wrenching! Soon we'll be bulging at the seams so I'll have to try and be ruthless, but it's so hard! What do books mean to all of you?

Guilty?

I was in Tesco after work. Suddenly, I had in my hand a packet of those gorgeous dark chocolate covered biscuits, you know, the expensive Belgian ones, just 9 in pack. I was just going to have one, maybe two with a well deserved cup of tea when I got home. I'll save the rest for the weekend, I told myself as I slunk through the checkout, trying to disguise my purchase along with a packet of ham and some toilet rolls. Half an hour later. Feet up. Peppermint tea brewing. It had been a good day at work, I had left my end of year appraisal beaming with pride. After a small sip of the tea, I sighed and opened the packet. The inevitability of what would happen in the next ten minutes was pushed to the back of my mind. I tried to fight the hormonal surge, as I lusted after the smooth creamy chocolate which melted in my mouth as the sharp crunch of the rich tea type biscuit echoed in my ears. What a juxtaposition. Opposite but perfectly matched. One biscuit had made just a small dent in my insatiable appetite for their chocolatey perfection. I may as well finish this section of the box. In a blink of an eye, and another cup of tea later, the box lay sad and empty by my side on the sofa. I guiltily hid it beneath the rotting banana skins in the kitchen bin. After a few minutes of chocolate heaven I began to feel slightly queasy, as I prepared a nice healthy salad for dinner.