The demise of speaking and listening

I might begin blogging again. Bored with FB. Never liked Twitter. Might even have something to talk about, like the draft National Curriculum for English. What has happened to speaking and listening? Did it get left out of my draft by mistake. I found the reciting poetry bit for 6 year olds. Could be fun, but this really isn't sufficient to my mind. We shall see.

Loving the Bank Holiday

Oh I love the first May Bank Holiday. Every year it bounces into your life - just after Easter, and just before the half term holiday. This is truly the star in my Bank Holiday calendar. You can still just about park in the car parks... you don't have to plan anything major... you can weed guiltlessly in the garden... you can stay in on Sunday night and watch late movies... all marvellous stuff. Here are my boys today... throwing pebbles and collecting shells. Groovy!

10.30 am in Dr Blah Blah's room

Dr: That really is a very nasty rattle. There is a horrid bacterial infection around at the moment that is hitting even young people (does that mean me?) quite badly at the moment. I am just going to give you antibiotics straight away and want to see you early next week if there isn't a distinct improvement.

SC: Cough... Shall I just ring on Tuesday if there is no change?........

Dr: Yes, please do!

Social comment: HOORAY I am vindicated. Had spent the whole of last night feeling so guilty about defying the system and preventing some probably genuinely poorly system-follower from seeing Dr Blah Blah at 10.30. I feel so good now.

Actually that is a lie. I cried in the car on the way home because I was so relieved that I was actually ill. Does anyone else do this. What on earth is going on that you spend twelve days being ill before you pluck up courage to phone the Dr. Then you have to fight to get to see one, and then you are grateful that you are ill enough to need a strong dose of amoxycillin?

I will stop going on about this now. I am boring even myself.

Hello...5.30 pm today... Please can I have an appointment with a Doctor tomorrow?

R: No, I am sorry, there are only emergency appointments now for tomorrow.

SC: I am sorry to be persistent, but I would really like to see a Dr before the weekend.

R: Well, can I suggest that you phone at 8.30 am tomorrow to book an emergency appointment?

SC: No you can't.

R: Pardon?
SC: No, you can't suggest that I phone at 8.30am.

R: Well I am sorry but we can't book any appointments now until lines open at 8.30.

SC: I have two children under 5 and need to plan for tomorrow. I have tried to book an appointment five times today, since this morning, and have been cut off while holding four times. I have had what I think is a chest infection for eleven days and would like to see a Dr before the weekend please.

R: Well we aren't allowed to give away emergency appointments.

SC: Would it be possible to speak to a Dr to see if they can help me over the phone?

R: Oh yes, well alright. (request for name telephone no. etc). I will ask the duty Dr to phone you tomorrow.

SC: I wondered if there might be a Dr available to speak to this evening?

R: Oh, yes, ermmm.. ok. I will ask our locum to phone you.

SC: Thank you.

30 minutes later... ring ring....

Formalities then

SC: Hello, thank you for phoning... I have had a horrid cough for eleven days and blah blah blah

Dr: Ok, I can't rule out a chest infection from what you have told me, I am afraid. Could you possibly pop in tomorrow to see one of us?

SC: I think I will be able to do that, yes. (Slight sarcasm in voice - trying desperately hard to hide it though)

Dr: Do you mind holding on while I make you an appointment?

SC: No that will be fine.

Dr: Could you come in at 10.30 tomorrow please to see Dr Blah Blah.

SC. Thank you. That will be great. See you tomorrow.

I ASK YOU!!!! A poor knackered locum gp making appointments for a pain-in-the-backside patient (client probably) at 6.00pm because the system is so ridiculously inflexible that the receptionist is powerless to make any suggestions or even be helpful. I can be pretty forceful and usually manage to achieve what I need to happen, but what about less strident patients (clients). How on earth can this be a workable system?

I told the UC. then I told you. Now I feel better.

Here is a happy snowy shot:

Way back in August 2005...

I posted about Lemon Surprise pudding. Today I returned to that post, prompted by a memory of a very helpful comment that I hadn't responded to... and when I got there, MY oh MY!!!! What a surprise I had. There were 14 comments from all over the LSP-making world! In fact, there was a whole kind of conversation thing going on about unpleasant egg and custard experiences. So it appears that if you search for LSP, you find this series of comments. I feel so proud - and just a little responsible for moving the discussion on - even though I didn't actually know about it. I will sleep happy tonight... I might even give it another go. However, today I have another culinary problem. I have made two Victoria sponges that turned out like biscuits. They always do when I make them. I have tried Nigella and Mary Berry. Is it because I do them in the food processor dyathink? Tomorrow we will eat them anyway, because there is a little birthday going on here. Cool!

Changing the subject... it snowed here today. Snow without skis. Bummer. However, it was very wierd snow. Kind of like polystyrene. It squeaked when you made a snowball. Also, in the middle of the sudden snowstorm, there was a tremendous clap of thunder. Most bizarre. This afternoon the sun shined (shone?) and we went swimming. Then it snowed again. What a funny old day.

Saturday morning sport and all that...

It has happened. Having resisted the UCs attempts to involve himself in Saturday sport for nearly 20 years (the armchair kind for most of those you will understand - apart from the Iron Man), I am now finding myself, on a Saturday, at the edge of a pitch, in the rain, dreaming of bacon sandwiches. Luckily I can do bacon sandwiches.

Anyway, they start them young here. The under-fives football tournament was tremendously well attended, mainly by under fives. There were lots of accompanying parents too. They can be categorised as follows: mums and dads. They were quite different in their behaviour. Mums were generally allowed to shepherd younger siblings and chat a bit to other mums. Dads didn't really do these things. I had heard about competitive dads, but hadn't seen them in action before. They were very funny indeed. My favourite type were the competitive dads who tried to pretend they were not competitive. I like the way that these dads chat in a cool kind of way to other dads, looking furtively at the pitch until the ball goes near their child. Then they scream at the top of their voices "Goooooooooonnnn gettttttttttiiiiiiiitttttttttt" or something like that. At this point their child is so scared that they stop dead in their tracks while a savvy thee year old picks up the ball and runs away with it. Then the dad turns back and continues his conversation as if nothing has happened. It really is entertaining. Next time I am going to watch very closely and attempt to categorise football dads further. On a different note entirely, I have read about some interesting categories in the news today: alpha socialisers, attention seekers, followers, faithfuls and functionals. You will all know what I am talking about. Now I am not one to be critical, but I am not convinced that these categories are exhaustive or very subtle.... (I really love the socio-economic grouping statements). I can't fit myself in very easily.... apart from being an attention seeking C1C2D mother of course. This is all rather too structured for my liking - in a context where surely structures such as age, gender and socio-economic banding are being subverted and played with in all kinds of ways. I am going to mull this over next time I stand on the edge of the football pitch in my wellies. It will take my mind off the bacon.

What's hot and what's not!

Have you seen this Goldfrapp video? I am loving it. Kind of a cross between the Dad's Army credits, the Wicker man and Rupert Bear's worst nightmare in the woods with that scary tree man 'sticky' (I think - or did I dream up 'sticky'? Anything seems possible these days).

Ahhh bear with me... I have found the stick man - he was called Raggerty apparently. I was terrified of him way back then. Here he is now. Quite cute actually... what's not to like? Funny how time changes everything.

In terms of the screen of fabulousness, I am also still loving Skins, ER and America's next top model. New to me - and recommended by my mum is Gavin and Stacey. I was a bit sniffy for some reason, but became hooked instantly. I also have to admit being tempted back to Walford to check out Rikki and Bianca's return next week - although I haven't actually watched Eastenders since the 1980s. Finally, joy to us all, Sir Alan is back on a Thursday night. In Exeter, we do like to make a special occasion of every episode, particularly as last year's runner-up (the delightful Katie) lives just around the corner. A special occasion these days involves opening wine that is not from Lidl with our lovely friends Barbarabara the poetess and her smashing husband Julian. in front of the telly. Classy I know.

Today I have been to Bristol. I looked at shoes in shoe shops and am very worried that they are really not for me this year. The only polite way to describe them is as prostitute platforms. Here is an example:I am only 5 feet 2 and cannot possibly wear such things. Not because I can't balance - it is more a question of proportion you see. What am I going to do? Advice please.