My Name is not Ann Bradley

One of the customers reported a fault today. I investigated during the afternoon but have not found anything yet. It's great to have proper work to do though. And, if it leads to an amendment, I'll get some increasingly rare coding to do. I'll be a techie again for a day.
Things are so light on our side because our system is the runt of the litter in corporate eyes. We were just outweighed by the parent company's whoppingly expensive product. Now they have taken over another company and seem to rate its product highly. That pushes us down to third in line (of three!) We're unlikely ever to get any attention from the sales force now so we'll just whither away.
I'd wonder why they bothered to buy our original company but keep coming back to my original theory: we had some customers and income and it sufficed to fund an office in London which could be used as a pied de terre for selling more important things. I think it wrong-footed everybody when we then secured a big client but the parent snaffled the next big project for that client and, I suspect, is plotting to grab the original business as soon as an opportunity arises and the client can be manipulated into compliance.
The only remaining puzzle is why those of us tied to the original system are still employed. There are some customers still so I suppose we are needed to support them but our future appears to be as clerical drones for the important stuff.
We'd all need new jobs and that wouldn't be easy now, especially as our other skills have been killed off by disuse. I don't think that was deliberate but there seems to have been a decision to big up a couple of people by channelling certain work exclusively through them. Unfortunately, that means the rest of us don't get that aspect of the work any more and our skills are eroded.
An additional curiosity is that they took on another person with our skillset just last year even though work was not that overwhelming. We were fairly sure there was an agenda and, now that one of the bigged-ups seems to be crossing the floor (so to speak) we suspect that the incomer was obtained as an embryo team-leader. Nice guy, but it couldn't be plainer that we originals (who have not sold our souls) are not respected.
It's good to have this place to spill it all: somewhere to get it off the chest. Probably not wildly interesting to the casual passer-by, for which I apologise, but you'll probably find yourself doing it one day.

I haven't blogged for ages but it's unload time again. I've had a pits of a couple of years. It's funny how guilty it's possible to feel saying that, knowing how bad life is for many other people, but guilt moves no mountains.
Apart from the multiple bereavements and the cancer scare (just a scare in the end but it took a long while to get there what with lost test results and cancelled clinics and doctors abruptly sent off on courses despite their patients' appointments) and the mad spiteful relative and the micro-management that is stealthily deskilling us all and the renewed threats of redundancy and the general unpleasantness at work and my own particular problems there.... yes, apart from all that, I have had shingles. It manifested in an unusual way and, heck, did it hurt! Even when it went I remained tired and I still fall asleep a lot.
I rearranged the sitting-room though and made a couple of changes that I have long fancied and am quite pleased. I've also managed to let go of some things and sent them to the chaity shop. It would be good to continue with this and reclaim some space. I'm also reading again which helps me relax.
I feel I now have juice for more radical home improvements. No wall demolition but maybe some radiator boxing, painting, carpet cleaning and new bathroom and kitchen flooring. I wish they'd bring back some of those DIY and similar programmes. I used to like UKtvBrightIdeas, except when it did wall to wall Antique Roadshows for whole weekends, but they took it away and, to rub salt in the wound, reallocated its Freeview number to some new channel showing aged comedy reruns even though there are plenty of unused numbers. To be honest, Roadshow apart, it had tended to do more and more food, fishing, bikes and cars towards the end. Discovery Real Time (the old TLC) has heaps of that as well. I used to like the garden design programmes, too, and there are none now.
What else can I ramble through? It must be great to have a lively life. Or is that one of those curses?
A few weeks ago I went to see Carmen performed in the round at the Albert Hall and enjoyed it a lot and in July I'm off to Sadlers Wells for a dance show. I know... what other kind at that location?
I may write some verse soon. I haven't for years but the need is growing. I'm not a poet, I'm a verser. My verse is unlikely to appear here, unless I include some trivial, humourous or silly stuff to entertain myself. 'Humourous' is a loose word.
Recently, I found and read the manuscript of my book. I may have mentioned it before as a thing-to-be-completed, can't remember. It was further forward than I thought but needs a lot of work, not the least being to get it into Word from the current hand-written form. It's very rough and/or sketchy in parts but I'd like to finish it even if it doesn't go anywhere. It's a fairy story aimed at under sevens but I think I have left it too late because, in the many years that it has lain fallow, Harry Potter has risen and conquered all, magicwise. He belongs to an older age group but has nevertheless sated the field I suspect.
Off to bed.
'Night, you!

I know I haven't blogged lately and have just dropped in to catch up with Friends activities. I can't claim that my time has been otherwise well filled but I'm still in limbo: it's odd not having to find time to take mum to doctors and hospitals.

I've been dealing with the aftermath of losing mum, am keeping the household essentials ticking over and started making inroads on my paper-and-filing mountain that ran amok over the last two years. I have to get order into it partly to reduce the space occupied and partly so I can complete some tax forms. Most of my admin capacity was expended on solicitors, clearances, distributions and so on.

I should retire in mid-Sep but have negotiated to continue work on about three-quarters of the hours (and salary!) I need the income but wonder if I'll have to work until I die. More paperwork grew because I need an IR certificate exempting me from NI. Given that the Inland Revenue know full well how old we all are you'd think they'd send these out direct when appropriate. Indeed, one of the tax forms relates directly to my age. I suppose they hope we won't know we are exempt so they can keep grabbing. I'm in the private sector after all: that famous milk cow for all things governmental.

Some paperwork is about deferring my private pension in the hope that it will have time to grow a bit even though common sense may suggest that, if it wasn't big enough after all these decades, a few more years won't help. Thanks, Gordy; appreciate it! Yes, I did try to look after myself by arranging a private pension into which I alone paid - and to the tune of a damn sight more than a paltry 8%. Much good that was, I shouldn't have bothered.

Anyway, must get off the embittering contemplation of pensions and privelege.

I mean to take advantage of other age-based benefits so the form and photos are ready for my bus pass application. I also mean to get a railcard. Brilliantly, this year's qualifying date for the heating subsidy lets me in by one day so I'll get it: I can almost imagine them spitting tacks which is even better than the cash itself. My reduced working hours are carefully designed to let me travel late so that I can use my passes and save nearly £173 per month. All in all, I hope that, in net terms, I shan't be much worse off even though, physically, I felt the need to ease off.

I have noted you all going off on hols and hope thay have been enjoyable. It's terrible about Jenray's bank problems! Aren't these people worms, preying upon the rest of us?

One important thing I have pursued is getting in touch with one of my blog Friends who had not logged in the site for months. Because of the circumstances I was very worried and could find no way to make contact having tried Directory Enquiries and all sorts until I felt like a stalker. Then I remembered an email she sent me last year so was able to harvest her email-id. To reassure her other blog friends, Sian is with her parents to get better and will blog again when she has more internet access and feels up to it.

Chelsea just dropped two points. Bum. Maybe I'll have a gin.

I love this.
I did try to upload it as a post but that's something else different on this site now and it just flew off to my media. So I have just pasted it in.
I hope that, if anyone tries it, they also enjoy it.
(I don't do metric, by the way.)

STUFFED PEPPERS

4 MEDIUM PEPPERS. 2 green and 2 red is nice, 4 red is cheerful.
16 FLUID OUNCES BOILING WATER
8 FLUID OUNCES LONG GRAIN WHITE RICE
12 OUNCES LAMB OR BEEF in small (1/2 inch) cubes
2 MEDIUM ONIONS peeled and chopped
2 CLOVE GARLIC finely chopped
TIN OF CHOPPED TOMATOES
4 TEASPOONS TOMATO PUREE
2 TABLESPOONS CURRANTS
½ TEASPOON CINNAMON
½ TEASPOON MARJORAM
2 DESSERTSPOONS PINE NUTS (optional)
OLIVE OIL
SALT
MILLED BLACK PEPPER

Cut the bumpy top and stalk off the peppers taking as little as possible.
Remove seeds and white pith from inside – I find a cheap teaspoon works well on the pith.
Rinse the peppers inside and out and stand with the hole downwards to drain.
Rinse the currants well and leave to drain.

Heat a little of the oil and stir in the rice so it is coated.
Add the water and a little salt.
Simmer until the fluid has been absorbed then remove from heat and put aside.

Fry onions and garlic in a little oil for a couple of minutes until soft but not brown.
Add the meat, nuts and currants.
Season with a little salt and the pepper.
Add the herbs and half the tomatoes.
Simmer gently for a few minutes until combined.
Remove from the heat.
Add the rice and mix well, adding a LITTLE more of the tomatoes if necessary for it to be moist.

Stand the peppers upwards in a deep casserole dish – it should be a tight enough fit to keep them upright but not packed.
Divide mixture between peppers pushing it down well to get in as much as possible.
Put the remainder of the mixture and tomatoes, if any, around them.

Put a teaspoon of tomato puree on top of each pepper.
Cook for 45/50 minutes at 190c.

I also put a blob of mozzarella on top of the puree sometimes.

I just read something that reminded me of an event a long time ago. Odd how things stick in the mind quietly and then pop out years later.

I was at a friend's party and it had degenerated into one of those wordy dos. Being the era it was, inevitably the conversation eventually took a political turn.

One person (and I'd only just met her!) asked me how I voted. Surprised, I told her. And she said...

'You should be ashamed of yourself.'

Now isn't that stupendously arrogant? Not to mention impertinent, smug, offensive and a variety of other unpleasant things. Takes the breath away, doesn't it?

I didn't follow up at the time (which is maybe why it rankles.) I don't do argument: they always seem to become heated and I can't handle that. It brings back vivid memories of being bullied, like I am back 'in the zone.' Probably for good reason - the behaviour is very similar.

Of course, thinking I'll do it and carrying through are different things...

Because of my situation with the loss of my mother last November and the amount of time I now spend alone I find that my usual day-dreaming has taken a different turn. I wonder if this is nostalgia.

At some point I must have decided, sub-consciously, to look after mum. She was so ill after my dad was killed that the shock nearly carried her off within months. In fact, she survived by almost forty years and was quite well in the middle part of that. Somehow, though, she always seemed fragile and sometime along the way my decision made itself.

I could never quite commit myself to anyone else: there was always a little niggle in the back of mind and it's not fair to involve somebody else half heartedly. Anyway, the upshot is that I am now alone and I knew it would come to this eventually - probably. It was my choice.

I find that spans of years have become very interesting, if that's the word. It's true they get shorter as you age! For instance January 1988 seems so recent that I can almost recall in detail what work I was doing but the equivalent 20+ years leading up to that date seems to contain a lifetime of variety and be many times as long.

But I lie in bed comparing groups of years to other groups of years and marvelling, in some cases, how much time has passed since some events. Too much introspection I suppose.

And what do I feel? Sort of 'cut off' is the only way I can describe it. I am still in limbo and assume that it is a manifestation of grief. I have been quite grateful that I did not have a prolonged period of frantic grieving like some people seem to have. I must admit I am still occasionally mugged by bouts of tears but they are short and it is only six months. I am in a bubble.

Another reason for unnecessary thinking is that I am having to consider retirement: due later this year. If mum was around it would be an easy decision because she needed the company having become less able to get out and about. As things are, it is not so simple: I'd like to go in some ways but I'd miss the actual code-cutting (real) part of my job and I'm concerned about finances. I have paid quite a large percentage of salary into a pension plan for decades and, had I been retiring ten years ago, I'm sure I'd have been fine. However my pension fund has suffered like many peoples' in recent years and is now worth much less.

My company does not encourage part-time work or I'd consider that. My working week is 37.5 hours but we mostly do a little more so that we can break off at a convenient point: it is normal in programming. A basic six hour day (with commensurate salary reduction) would be very interesting and I might make up some of the lost money if I could use my pensioner's travel pass! We normally get twenty days annual holiday plus eight public holidays and I can see no way to vary that. Actually, when I say 'normally' I do get four more having earned an extra day for each of my first four years with the company. Four is the maximum. It means I have a lot of leave days: 24 plus 8 in total.

Oh well, time to close. Maybe not so philosophical as originally intended, more of a bumble around.

May you dream the dreams of an innocent.
Goodnight.

In the beginning God covered the earth with broccoli, cauliflower andspinach, with green, yellow and red vegetables of all kinds so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.
Then using God's bountiful gifts, Satan created dairy ice cream and Magnums.
And Satan said, 'You want hot fudge with that?
And Man said, 'Yes!'
And Woman said, 'I'll have one too with chocolate chips'.
And lo they gained 10 pounds.

And God created the healthy yoghurt that woman might keep the figure that man found so fair.
And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat and sugar from the cane and combined them.
And Woman went from size 12 to size 14.

So God said, 'Try my fresh green salad'.
And Satan presented blue cheese dressing and garlic croutons on the side.
And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.

God then said 'I have sent you healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them'.
And Satan brought forth deep fried coconut king prawns, butter-dipped lobster chunks and chicken fried steak, so big it needed its own platter, and Man's cholesterol went through the roof.

Then God brought forth the potato; naturally low in fat and brimming with potassium and good nutrition.
Then Satan peeled off the healthy skin and sliced the starchy centre into chips and deep-fried them in animal fats adding copious quantities of salt.
And Man put on more pounds.

God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds.
And Satan came forth with a cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels.
And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering light and started wearing stretch jogging suits.

Then God gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite.
And Satan created McDonalds and the 99p double cheeseburger.
Then Satan said 'You want fries with that?' and Man replied, 'Yes, and super size 'em'.
And Satan said, 'It is good.'
And Man and Woman went into cardiac arrest.

God sighed......... And created quadruple by-pass surgery.
And then .......... Satan chuckled and created the National Health Service.

THE FINAL WORD ON NUTRITION

After an exhaustive review of the research literature, here's the final word on nutrition and health.:
1. Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
2. Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
3. Chinese drink little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
4. Italians drink huge amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
5. Germans drink beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than us.
6. The French eat foie-Gras, full fat cheese and drink red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than us

CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Who cares, it's funny...
Here endeth the Lesson.

I feel I have to make a proper post instead of simply leaving jokes. It's just rather an effort at the moment, largely because I'm not doing anything interesting.
It is as if I am in one of life's anterooms because I have not yet seized the challenge of moving on. I am waiting for 'something'.
With mum gone I have no good reason to retire: there is nobody to 'look after'. Just as well, really, since the poor dregs of my pension, what remained after the government picked its bones, have probably gone up in flames in the last week or so. Now I have to hope to stay healthy - as healthy as I am currently anyway - so I can keep myself.
I was going to call in at the Cathedral today but could not get in. The Good Friday service would have been underway and there was a goon inside the door stopping a group of people from entering. Tourists, I assume. Shame about us worshippers.
Today I bought a penguin, one of those steam spot-removing things. It doesn't work. I couldn't persuade a single puff of steam out of it even though I went through the procedure twice from scratch. So I'll take it back tomorrow and hope to recover my 19.99.
And the fish and chip shop was closed.
.
.
.
Gripping, isn't it?

I only know the names of two angels: Hark and Harold.--Gregory, 5

Everybody's got it all wrong. Angels don't wear halos anymore. I forget why, but scientists are working on it.--Olive, 9

It's not easy to become an angel! First, you die. Then you go to heaven, and then there's still the flight training to gothrough. And then you got to agree to wear those angel clothes.--Matthew, 9

Angels work for God and watch over kids when God has to go do something else.--Mitchell, 7

My guardian angel helps me with math, but he's not much good for science.--Henry, 8

Angels don't eat, but they drink milk from Holy Cows!!!--Jack, 6

Angels talk all the way while they're flying you up to heaven. The main subject is where you went wrong before you got dead.--Daniel, 9

When an angel gets mad, he takes a deep breath and counts to ten. And when he lets out his breath, somewhere there's a tornado.--Reagan, 10

Angels have a lot to do and they keep very busy. If you lose a tooth, an angel comes in through your window and leaves money under your pillow. Then when it gets cold, angels go north for the winter.--Sara, 6

Angels live in cloud houses made by God and his son, who's a very good carpenter.--Jared, 8

All angels are girls because they gotta wear dresses and boys didn't go for it.--Antonio, 9

My angel is my grandma who died last year. She got a big head start on helping me while she was still down here on earth.--Katelynn, 9

Some of the angels are in charge of helping heal sick animals and pets. And if they don't make the animals get better, they help the child getover it.--Vicki, 8

What I don't get about angels is why, when someone is in love, they shoot arrows at them.--Sarah,7

(ed's note: 'Hark' does it for me! And the flight training.)

As Ben Franklin said:
In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria.

In carefully controlled trials, scientists have demonstrated that if we drink 1 litre of water each day, at the end of the year we have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli (E. Coli) - bacteria found in faeces.

In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of doodoos.

However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine and beer (or spirits) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of boiling, filtering and fermenting.

Remember:
Water = Doodoos,
Wine = Health

Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water and be full of shit.

There is no need to thank me for this valuable information: I'm doing it as a public service.