Festive spending

I see that sales of my record (I say ‘my record’, well, you know what I mean) didn’t rocket after my revelation the other day. Can’t blame anyone; the track listing, after all, would be enough to put any sane person off. All I can say is that it is at least suitably thematic, being both biblical and apocalyptic.

That represents the experience of Christmas shopping in Chelmsford, if nothing else.

Patsy and the Plague

The Orwellian nightmare of Hewitt’s NHS continues*. Around the country, 29 hospitals are to close but in case you were under any illusions (ie. that this might have adverse effects on the health service) it’s actually going to “improve patient care”. This year the NHS is to make a surplus – yes, a surplus – of £250 million. Meanwhile we’ll spend £20 billion on the Trident replacement.

I’m no economist - I don’t even really know how many millions make a billion (isn’t it different depending on where you come from anyway?) but it doesn’t sound like a good sense to me.
* Interesting description on Google: "George Orwell's 1949 novel decries a totalitarian government bent on total manipulation".

On a smaller scale, I’ve just spent £8.50 buying a record that I appear on (with my dad). You won’t ever want to hear it; it’s called Plague Songs. It really is what it says on the tin.

Lyrical spamming

As an appreciation of all the spam email I receive, I've decided to make some of it into a poem.

Why be an average guy any longer
his tinted glasses; and fabulous hostelries. highly stylized fixtures.
Separate yourself from other men
She will love you more than any other guy
skittish wane
Whatever you do, keep this on the lowdown!

Do you want a prosperous future
They’ve sat through New software uploaded by Harry on Nov 19
Not for me, shopping before daybreak, but lines form.
I want to ask when he does finally come down off of this, what can I really expect
This is what I was talking about
The twentieth century, that ache in the world

Nobody likes being told what to do.

That's the end of my poem. I think it's very poignant.

Tuck shop teenagers

Just went to the village shop to get some milk. Our village (where we’ve lived for eighteen months to be closer to Nearest and Dearest’s work at the local hospital) is just lovely and I don’t want to leave, but we will have to when this SHO rotation ends in July. Take the shop, for instance (the only one in the village). You could walk in and see any of our local characters - Mrs Brant, characterised by her barking at the counter assistant “PAPERS FOR BRANT!!” or Milly, Chantilly and Lily with Jake, Blake and Drake from the local boarding school arms full of Pot Noodles, Mars Bars, Pringles and Coke for a tuckfest later. Another notable is 84 year old Horace, cycling every day up to his allotment amid the 4x4s driving their kiddies to the prep school. Someone must be smiling on him because cycling in wellies doesn’t necessarily make for the straightest lines.

Also, this village is excellent for festive house displays. Currently four houses are covered in flashing icicles, illuminated snowmen and neon messages of goodwill. If you like lights, and I do, this is the place to be.

Sad to think we will be leaving here, but even sadder not to have a clue where our next location will be. Nearest and dearest can apply for 4 geographical areas/1 specialty, or various combinations thereof. Choosing only 1 geographical area/4 specialties could mean a move to any corner of this Deanery, none of which are particularly desirable. At least we only have chickens - for those with families and mortgages, this particular bit of Hewittery must be unfathomably difficult.

Sometimes only fairy lights can help

I feel really stressed tonight. I don’t know if it’s the effect of interviewing all day and then driving home in howling wind, rain and darkness with the glare of oncoming lights obliterating everything around me. I’m not the world’s most experienced driver, so this might not be surprising. Having a 4x4 up your jacksy with its lights obscuring all vision doesn't help.

But also, the lurking cold I have been fighting is making itself felt and my head feels swimmy and overloaded. Everything is a just a bit more effort that I can quite muster at the moment but that won’t stop me trying. To make myself feel better I’ve found some of my favourite fairy lights and hung them on the new tree that I rescued from a night out in the cold at Wyevale. Ahhh ... fairy lights. Things are starting to look brighter.

Merry hens

Trying to work out how I could get the hens to wear Santa hats so I can make Christmas cards with pictures of Christmassy chickens. No amount of bribery with grapes and/or Wensleydale is going to make this happen in real life, but luckily I can pretend to myself that I succeeded, with judicious use of a computer.

I’ll have to make do with Omlet’s own range of cards, which does, at least, benefit the Battery Hen Trust.

A red ribbon for World Aids Day

Friends. Be safe, be sensible and donate what you can. Or do whatever feels good to you for someone in need. There's lots of volunteering that can be done on this issue.

Avert (international charity)
Terrence Higgins Trust
Aids Alliance