Me-no-poste? It's My Blog And I'll Wail If I Want To!

Here it is, then. 2023. I sat up with the ceilidh on BBC Alba, then listened to the thunderous fireworks that peppered the neighbourhood (all in the wrong direction from the Hutch's windows, even if I was inclined to watch), 'first footexted' all the important folk in my phone's address book, then faffed around with puzzles and the tubular channel into the wee small hours. Oh, and I completed another crochet syringe-driver bag for the Beatson clinic in Glasgow. That was #4, and I am aiming for a dozen, yarn stock permitting. Each bag takes about five hours to complete. 

All of you sewers and yarners out there, have you checked to see if your local pain and cancer clinics require these bags? A nice little project of practical purpose. This is the very simple pattern I have used. Download it - or biggify and screenshot it. There are many other options for quilters or knitters with a quick net search. It feels good to be doing something that will have value to others. Also, giving in this manner holds a degree of worth for the giver. For myself, who has been socially fallow for two years, this holds some importance. The giving to the Ukrainian poetry page and to John's Collection Pot for the Lviv hospital (what, you didn't know? see below!) has been important not only for those who will receive but also for the mental health of the sender.

Last week, some commenters noted that a sense of frustration is prevalent in the world just now. There were some very interesting responses when I blew off steam about that in my FFF. Something to be aware of is that sadness/grief is the flip side of anger. I am actually in a fairly neutral state of mind and generally content. However, it is from the intellectual aspects of what is happening in the world that my frustration and gnashing of teeth arise, prompting that post. In seeking to address these things from the intellectual level, you will see a lot more 'gab' from me, as well as the more challenging posts. At least for the immediate future, I will explore the threads already laid down over the last two weeks as I wrestle with myself as much as with the world. 

Tigger's F had mentioned that women in general are now found to be more angry/sad than had been the case in the previous decade. I was intrigued and - natch - went off on one of my intermutt rambles. The BBC had done a recent report on this, but the data is actually a year old, and there were several earlier articles to be found - all based on the Women's Health Index from Hologic (in conjunction with Gallup Poll). This research organisation was set up in 2020, and only two reports have been created to date. I am guessing the 2022 report will appear over the next couple of months. The reference to ten years as the data comparison must have been derived purely from Gallup's data, which would not have been specific to women. Hologic's sole purpose is to measure women's data. It claims to do so by representing: 

"94% of the world's population from 122 countries, sampling 127000 people, of which 66000 are women." 

🫥

Is it just me, or does that leave you wondering a bit? Sixty-six thousand out of four billion (if one takes the m/f ratio to be 50/50) to draw data conclusions regarding that entire population seems to me to be somewhat quantum working! This is the problem with statistics. Endless number-crunching with infinite possibilities. Remember that numbers (maths) are closely related to music... and think of the cosmological variety that can be gained from only twelve notes.

Anyhoo; there are five categories of well-being, with the emotional/mental being but one. And while the 'world' figure may well be up, country by country can give a different impression. For example, the UK actually sits relatively high in that category, although it is ranked 30th in the world overall. The top five were interesting...

If you would like to have a gander at the complete list, or just your own country, click here. Even the best of them has some way to go for the 100%. I am of the opinion that 87% would be an excellent marker to aim for. (That's an old Blogville reference, in case any stragglers are still reading...)

Anger, frustration, disappointment, dismay... women have a right to display their emotions in this regard. We have witnessed several rallies in the past two years - most recently Iran - as girl power comes to the fore once more. Yes, there are likely to be multiple reasons. Still, it is not hard to think that the rise of populist and fascistic leaders resulting in the withdrawal of hard-won rights, as well as the ever-present, but once again, more open misogyny that prevails in society, play a significant part. 

So yes, this is my blog, and there will be some moments of wailing and gnashing of teeth... are you coming along for the ride?

PS - in case you did not see it, or as a reminder, I put out a call to action on the 

Christmas Eve Post. I am going to keep placing the link. Please spread the word and quickly. The Collection Pot is only open until January 13th. Thank you.

Menoloopal; Mirthless Mirth

[Dear Reader - a menoloop is a download of current peeves. You are excused if you do not care to be the dumping station. You may, instead, prefer just to gaze into this mandala for a few quiet moments and consider the fading light as the year falls to its end, then move on.]

What the heck is mirthless mirth, you ask? (Maybe you didn't...but...) You have to laugh, or you would cry might be another way of phrasing it. A mere glance at the headlines in the UK - no matter how disinterested you may otherwise be - shows a place where the mess at the top of the pile appears to be completely ignorant of the mess that's beneath it. Shambolic doesn't even come close to describing it. What sort of things am I referring to?

:: After six weeks of travesty, Truss talked herself up as she talked herself out. Having spent eight weeks of public hustings (wwhhhyy??? It wasn't as if the public had any say in the matter) and winning the vote to take over the reins (just before Charles Windsor took over the reign), she only managed to stay six weeks in the post. In that time, she totally trashed what was left after the Bowling Ballrus had done what he could to wreck the place. On Wednesday of last week, she was all, "I'm a fighter, not a quitter!" Come Thursday morning, all fight was gone, and she quit. Not that her short departure speech would have you believe she was anything less than brilliant.

:: The display of hubris from the Baffling Buffoon bustling back from his jolly in the Caribbean to try and barge and bully his way back into power, then bottling out when it was clear he didn't have the numbers (despite claims to the contrary), was beyond the pale. His 'withdrawal' letter was all "me, me, me" and foot-stamping madness that the time wasn't quite right for his return.

:: Penny Mordaunt, despite her Vogue looks, did not send political hearts fluttering. Numbers failed her too.

:: All hail Dishy Rishi! Within five days, we had our third PM this year making an entry through that big black door. You have to worry that the general opinion is that he is the best of a bad bunch. I mean, when you are hungry, you will eat the battered and bruised fruit because at least it hasn't yet been attacked by the worms. His opening speech admitted to errors having been made (understatement of the decade), then made his own glaring error of referring to the UK as 'this country.' By its very definition, the United Kingdom is a state of four different countries. With each passing year - and administrator - the wedge that can separate those parts is being driven deeper. The Greatest Brick that can be thrown is for those in London to forget that there are borders, no matter how fluid those currently are. Even the far-flung regions within England have vastly different needs and expectations from those of the southeast.

:: Thus, we move on to the next paragraph; and while I am in no way a supporter of this government, am absolutely despairing that there are no signs of there being an adequate and responsive opposition. Equally, though not a supporter politically, I find myself enraged that so many news outlets want to make a thing about the ethnicity and religion of the new PM. He, quite rightly, made no reference at all to the matter in his speech; he just wants to get on with the job (however he might define that). I say that is as it ought to be. But it might not matter; there are Tik Tok videos that last longer than British Prime Ministers...

I'll jump off that bandwagon now and go onto the next menoloop - the continuing mystery that is the internet and, more specifically, Google and its tinkerings. The whole business of spammed comments has definitely grown less, but it is still occurring, and now there is the added peculiarity of some old comments getting sifted; I had one turn up yesterday in the spam box that had been posted in 2014!!! There was nothing wrong with it.

Further to that, I have found on occasion that I miss posts from a few of you because either your post for the day doesn't turn up on my reading list in a timely fashion - or even doesn't turn up at all. It is not consistent, which makes it even more aggravating.

It's not life-threatening, but it is very frustrating. 

I spent Deepavalli alone with the lamps and prayed for a world in which we can all be different but celebrate our similarities. A world that acknowledges boundaries without enforcing borders. A world in which the light of knowledge removes the darkness of ignorance, where Love dominates and hatred withers. I continue to hope.

Me? No! What The...

Sigh... you might be forgiven for thinking that Fridays around here are turning menoloopal. Is it the equinox? (I swear the sun lost several degrees in the sky overnight.) Is it the tectonic shifts from current events? (Putin spruiking nuclearism, Truss spruiking nothing worth anything.) Is it ley lines getting mangled by reverse polarity? (Yes, I just made that one up.)

This week I have been discovering missing posts from some favourite blogs. Only not missing at all, just not reaching my reader... or not reaching in a timely fashion. I have to go trawling. Then again, some posts get thrown up at me twice or thrice a day. It makes no sense!!! (😡)

On the bright[er] side, the problem with comments going to spam seems to be reducing. Not totally resolved, but certainly not as prolific as a few weeks ago. We take the rays of light where they offer themselves.

.....................................................and I just sat here lost in dwalm for ten minutes, not knowing what else to tell you. An example, perhaps, that I might be entering a mental vacuum. Time to get the leek and tattie soup going. Yes, it's that time of year already. That's it - we are that that time of year already, and I am NOT ready. So much not achieved, so much planned undone. Yet this is also the time for reassessment and recalibration. For this reason, the approaching celebration on the Jewish calendar of Rosh Hashanah - a time of shouting, sharing and embracing new beginnings - is timely. This weekend, some effort must be made to do a bit of decluttering. Also, move stuff around in prep for the cooling seasons and pick up some of those unfinished crochet projects. 

Oh, and plan for next week's Final Friday Fiction!!! That's all, folks.

Menowerit; Drawn Out

Sitting pondering what to post I was in two minds; take another fallow day, or have my whinge. You'll gather I chose the latter.

It's all a bit fuzzy damp squib if you ask me

Yes, it's a big historical moment. Really though, the full-blanket coverage has been soooooo drawn out. One can't turn anywhere in terms of news outlets of any sort, and escape the fact the Her Madge has passed and His Maddie has inherited. (He gets mad about pens...) I have absolute sympathy for grief and mourning. I spent 15 years in professional practice which included many cases of grief counselling. Everyone must find their own path through such times... but they must also not expect that the world will stop because they feel theirs has. The BBC in particular appears to be determined to have us believe that the entire populace is in mourning. And there have been reports of strong policing against those who may have an alternative view.

It is fair to say that ERII's passing leaves a big hole in the psyche of society. There has certainly been some surprise among even those inclined to the republican mind (myself included) how the passing of a woman who was a monument to decorum and diplomacy has brought us some level of sorrow. 

That sorrow, however, does not necessarily translate into being supporters of an antiquarian institution. There are many who see this as the chance for things to truly change. (A 'taster' of this taste for a shift.)

Reading and listening around the place, I will say no more myself, but offer you some of the items that have had me nodding along in agreement. First an article by one of my favourite authors. Having myself wrangled with that concept of the psyche and fabric of society, Ben Okri hits the right notes.

One of the newer podcasts I alluded to when embarking on my Thursday series, has actually become very pertinent... I have great respect for William Dalrymple (and he is held in high regard in India). The discussions between him and Anita Anand have been riveting, and if you are inclined, I would heartily recommend listening to all episodes thus far - this one included. In that one, along with guest David Olusoga, very meaningful discussion around the place of monarchy in the wider world, and how history is written, is to be enjoyed. (It is only available on Spotify or Apple podcasts, sorry no other just now.)

Historical contexts are one thing, but what about the political and current affairs aspect? Alistair and Rory have a good old natter about the goings on in this episode of TRIP. The follow up Q&A episode is also worth a listen, I feel. Proper 'both sides' argument.

The mention of Ukraine in that first TRIP link is expanded upon further in another of the more recent podcasts to start up and which I find myself following - The News Agents. In their report on the 12th, they delved a little more deeply into the fact there had been significant goings-on in the eastern war front. Something that - here in the UK at least - the majority of the media has barely mentioned, if at all. Indeed, there are major events all over the place, but right now, right here, we continue with the full-blanket coverage...

As ever, thanks for listening. 

Menorgurgulating; Brain Boil By Way of a Menoloop

I wrote the following post earlier in the afternoon, yesterday. Later, the news came through that seemed to make it almost mean... but I let it stand because there is no doubt that the passing of ERII will add to the unsettled feeling around us. While not a royalist, I always held her majesty in esteem and respect for all the reasons that are being spouted in the media. The stability of her presence will be deeply missed.

I confess I have been a bit preoccupied with the state of affairs here in the UK this past couple of weeks. I despair if truth be told. For many observers from anywhere other than the British Isles, it might all read a bit comic book, Greek tragedy, French farce... and you wouldn't be wrong. 

The biggest issue is our cost of living challenge. Yes, many places in the world are facing inflation and fuel/energy concerns. It does seem, however, that the UK is particularly badly off. In case anyone is in any doubt, until announcements made in parliament yesterday, on October 1st, our energy bills were set to rise by some 80% on the already imposed 50-ish% that occurred in March. That was mooted to be followed, in January, with yet a further big hike. Yesterday, the new PM put a renewed 'cap' on the cost of energy for two years, which will mean instead of the projected £5750 annual outgoing (on average use), it will be kept to £2500. Those who are low-end users, like me, would never reach that average anyway, and obviously, there will be some households that use quite a bit more, but the point is that the cost per kWh is going to be stable in a way that it wasn't until yesterday and had us all planning to burn our furniture to keep warm this winter.

For low-enders, the huge bugbear has been the standing charges - the cost of having a physical connection and the meters that tell you how much you used. In February, historically the most expensive month being the coldest and meanest, my bill was appx £43. By April, when spring arrived, and the heating was off, my monthly bill shot up to nearly £60. I was using less light and gas, but the standing charge had all but doubled per diem. If Ms Truss had not made that announcement yesterday, then in October, I was looking at paying upwards of £70 even before adding on the actual usage costs. My pension is such that after paying insurance, television fees (remember that's compulsory here in the UK), phone/wifi and council tax/rates, leaving enough to hopefully cover the power utilities would have meant keeping my food/ancillaries budget to about £30/wk. Manageable, but then again, given how the price of food is rising... the one bright spot is that there has been an added benefit to all households of £66/month being provided to offset the costs. For low-enders, that will be a significant boost. I do welcome that assistance. In the spirit of transparency, it should also be said that I am blessed to have a fully paid-for home; with no mortgage or other loans. But my pension is not changing with the cost of living. 

This is not to plead poor. It is to demonstrate that many thousands here, who in any other country might be considered really quite well off, are, by comparison within this economic centre, at real risk of fiscal difficulty. Hardship is relative to the society in which one lives.

Yesterday's move by the incoming handlers of the government was undoubtedly welcome but still has to be fine-tuned, and much more will need to be sorted for the long-term. This is not a long-term thinking group of well-off toffs. In fact, they are backwards thinking - the spectre of fracking has raised its hideous head once more. So while unquestionably relieved that there is an eleventh-hour move to bring some relief on energy costs, I find myself holding my breath as to what else has to suffer to cover it.

So yeah. A bit of a brain boiler of a post today, but it would otherwise have been another cop-out. Not my style, really. Challenges are there to be met!

Thanks for listening.

Menoloopal; A Monday Mischief Post

Last week, those paying attention know that something took place on Monday before Aitch left the Hutch. Having had a most excellent Sunday, oot and aboot, we were pretty tired. We didn't rush on Monday, and although I awoke early, I did manage to lie until a little before eight o'clock. I was not at my best. Having not only had quite a bit of exercise and fresh air, there had also been the crowd at the quilt show to deal with. That small hall was PACKED! Never mind COVID stuff, I was never much good at close quarters with people en masse, and as Aitch noted, there did not appear to be any ventilation for the place. Thus I was dealing with a touch of claustrophobia as well. All this builds to a state of mental exhaustion that does take its toll.

image source; ClipArt

Thus, last Monday morning, filling the kettle for the essential first cup of tea of the day and being extremely groggy and, possibly, resembling a bear with a sore head, I thought it odd that I could smell gas. 

I checked the hob. All okay. I checked the cupboard with the meter - it seemed okay. Aitch entered at that point and agreed there was some odour that definitely didn't fit with Hutch's usual ambience. I checked the cupboard with the combi-boiler... definitely stronger there. I switched it off, and we opened the windows. I went to OctoKan to get hold of the power company's emergency number (silly me - if I'd looked at the meter properly, the emergency number was there... but... it was Monday, and Mischief was determined to play). Then OctoKan wouldn't let me sign on. After three goes, it was asking me to jump through security hoops. What The....?????!!!! I shut it down and started again. The mood was less than warm and poor Aitch wondered who this person was that had replaced her usually unflappable and friendly mate. The emergency number lady was also having a Monday morning, I think. That is the only reason I can afford her being so highly officious and condescending - not like the 999 services, where they are all caring and concerned. It was almost like she was accusing me of having caused any potential leak myself. The YAMster you all know and love would normally have let that all drip away, but not that day. The mood got blacker still. Aitch went and checked the stairwell.

The engineer was at the door in little more than twenty minutes from making the call. He was rather more cheery and quickly got to work on the diagnostics. After turning off the supply, it didn't take very long for him to find that there was still gas to be measured in the corner where the boiler resides. I could tell he was puzzled. He said he needed to go around all the immediate neighbours to check their situation. When he went out, I voiced to Aitch something that had occurred to me earlier - that the neighbour immediately below me may have left his stovetop on. A few minutes later, the engineer was back wondering if I had a contact number for that flat! I made the call and passed the handset to the bloke to discuss B's having to get back from his work. That took about an hour. 

Yes. B had left his hob burning, and the flame had gone out, leaving the gas to build up! I am not sure how that happened, as most hobs these days have a cut-out function if a flame drops. Anyway, that was the source of the problem, and everyone could breathe freely again. 

The adrenaline had really built up in me. After it was all done and signed off, Aitch and I sat with another cuppa, and I found I was shaking all over. I think having someone else there caused increased concern - but it also highlighted to me how, with age, I am growing less and less tolerant of having to think about home maintenance and such. Particularly being in a multi-dwelling situation. All of which added another little bit of grist to the mill of change looming between the Hutch and me...

image source; FreePIK

Menoxiousity; Tricky Tech

Well, this is gonna be a short one. I had an idea what to do for Thursday posts this coming few weeks - and then it fell out the bottom end of my brain as so often happens with menosoup. Sigh.

What I can share with you today is that there have been trubs on the horizon concerning technology. Last week, the instything stopped letting me put captions and tags on my photos and prevented me from commenting on others' posts. I can still post photos and can still heart other posts. There is no explanation and no help button in IG. Research (and a couple of fans prepared to DM me) caused me to think that this is a 'black mark' against me for excess of something or someone has taken offence. 

Now, you all know me. I hope you are as taken aback by that possibility as I am. For a start, I only follow folk I actually know and have formed some level of relationship with through either blogging or the tubular. I have less than a 100 on my list. Only a little over 100 follow me back. Now that my brother has decided to start an IG account, I have discovered I cannot follow him. Another friend who followed me just last week, I am prevented from following back. The advice seems to be that this is temporary and everything should go back to normal - but the time frame is undefined. 

Frankly, I'm not that bothered from the point of view of posting. I am, however, miffed at some algorithm, having decided I am one of the bad guys. OR, that someone on this list has reported me - given I rarely actually leave a comment, but that when I do, it is usually directly related to the subject of the post, I can't fathom that possibility.

There's a bit of me that could quite easily just diss the thing. But I enjoy sharing my images, and I do love to see what everyone else is doing. Let's see what pans out...

THEN.... dear old Voovoo, the Vaio is letting age get in the way of operations. The DVD drive is defunct. For a few months now, she has been hissing and spitting a bit on her network adaptor, creating lots of i'net dropouts - sometimes only a couple a day, sometimes every hour or so. On Monday, she finally spat her final dummy. I spent a couple of hours mourning the fact I would have to work only with the YAMroid... till it occurred to me that I ought to be able to hook it up so that Voovoo could 'see' the wifi via YAMroid's signal. 

Turns out others thought this through before me and that YAMroid (and all tablets/ smartphones) can tether in this way. So the ageing tablet (which is also, it must be faced, on its downward leg) is now carrying the even older Voovoo over the ether, and I am sooooo grateful for that!

This turns this post that started with a moan into a Thankful Thursday post!!!

MenoSundays; Life Lived Lovingly

On this day I would normally post something inspirational or deep and meaningful or mind fodder of some description. Today, though, it is going to be a little more personal than that; by way of gratitude but also a need for 'completion'.

Gratitude for all the warm and caring and concerned thoughts expressed in response to Friday's post of the 'kitchen kaper'! Completion in the sense that there were questions asked and I wish to provide answers - and show further progress. Forgive me this self-indulgence dear ones, but it serves catharsis as well. Am still a bit discombobulated by it all and certainly a bit achy and pain-y from all the unusual bend and stretch that has been enforced. Anyway...

There were questions regarding water damage... none since my arrival seven years back. However, there must have been some at some stage, for there is staining on the wall to suggest it; admittedly that may have been from the time before we had those major repairs to the roof and back external wall. This leads to the most-asked question -

Who pays for the repair? That would be yours truly. I own the flat - not a tenant. Had there been visible and traceable water ingress, then it might be another matter. The tenant in the flat above is very heavy-footed and I have often wondered if the lounge ceiling might come in (heaven forbid!!!), but I don't think that could be claimed against. The building insurance is the usual rort with large excess so not even worth trying for that. No. Deep breaths. I Will just have to see to it myself - but it won't be in any hurry because, for a start, this is not an 'urgent' repair, but considered cosmetic and therefore current lockdown restrictions do not permit entry to homes by workmen for such. Summer will be earliest and even then I may hold off. Once the father's estate gets settled it is my intention to get the bathroom ceiling at long last repaired and this one can happen at the same time. (Also wish to remodel the bathroom, so an all in one mess - hopefully - in about another year's time.)

The plaster has been up for well over a hundred years, and the building does occasionally shift, so a few cracks are there which weren't when I bought the place. It comes with the territory of this type of building.

Now, one other question was asked - "where is the shelving?" Which in a way pleased me, because I chose what I did in order for it to be low-impact on the eye. Anyway, it is wire, foldable stuff and this is it close up...

I think I may have squealed with delight when putting it in place, for it is exactly what I envisaged. A relief, considering it was not particularly cheap! Now, I suspect there may be a question as to why on the counter and not in a cupboard. The answer, my dears, is that there is no cupboard for them! The previous owner put in a kitchen to 'flip' the flat quickly. It was pleasing to the eye but turns out to be rather impractical. There were only two small drawers and there are actually only four and a half useable cupboards. Another houses the gas meter, and the 'half' is the corner over which these shelves sit, which is virtually inaccessible and therefore - currently - totally wasted space. That is the one I have been working up to sorting after the success of the neighbouring one. I'll get back to that. Anyhoo - back to the shelving, as you see it holds all my herbs and spices, cooking fats, eggs, treats tin, condiments and such like. Let's not forget the vegemite!!! Everything to hand right where I need it and it is all stuff accessed regularly, if not daily. Am so thrilled with these wires, am considering a repeat purchase for use on the other side. We'll see.

I just wanted to show you something of what was being dealt with -

I know some of you have an inkling of the kind of dust that comes from such tumblings, but here it is bold as brown! In the foreground, you see a portion that has been wiped down once and can also then see that it will need another going over at least twice. This stuff is disgusting and gets to places you wouldn't believe. Three days in and it is still falling out of the air. Something of a habitual wiper-downer at regular times I'm now going to be a hyper wiper for a while! Thank heavens for this stuff. As its promo promises: 

each squirt, in all it’s lovely non-toxic glory, delivers a mighty cleaning punch with naturally derived, biodegradable ingredients. it’s cleaners, derived from corn + coconut, break down dirt naturally, so every spray leaves nothing behind but a fresh scent + gleaming clean. knock out dirt with the power of plants.

I kid you not, it's the best stuff I have ever used - look at that stovetop! 

All the crockery and other items from this 'stage two' part of the kitchen were put through the dishwasher as even with gloves on my skin was beginning to object to water immersion. A little rejig of the upper corner (gas meter) cupboard meant that a few of the items were now going to be undercover. On Saturday morning, the new bin arrived. I shifted the dryer (inherited on purchase of Hutch and never even plugged in so a white elephant - pressed into service to hold all the plastic bags the grocery insists on delivering my shopping in) to the right and slotted the old bin minus its lid in behind and the new one in front. The first to hold recycling and the latter to gather all the other stuff. By lunchtime Saturday, stage two was more or less done.

Stage three was to clear all the stuff left over on the table and the drawer tops. I had inherited a couple of bedside drawer cabinets from Edinburgh and they are sitting back to back behind the table, now, and holding all the tea towels, napkins, stationery and other such stuff which had previously had to be in other rooms or just out on the surface. There is to be another set of cabinetry to come from Edinburgh, eventually, one piece of which will sit on top of those drawers and provide another important storage space, which I have temporarily sorted with more of those wonderful delivery boxes!!!

That table almost looks clean enough to eat off now.

Sigh... now it is back to finalising the cupboard rejig and the place will very nearly be working as I want it to. Thank you all for your patience as I narrated my kitchen kaper!

Menoloopal; crying shame...

...or ought that to read, 'cry in shame'? Really. Having touched upon the nature of 'goodness' within us, surely part of that needs to be an environmental awareness. The kind which makes us take full responsibility for our part in ensuring we walk lightly upon the earth. Before I go further, I would like you to CLICK HERE and watch the very short video you will find there. Please do this - I'll wait here.

Disturbing? Feel free to share that link yourselves - the more folk who are faced with the fact, the more (one can hope) they will think about making a change themselves. It is accepted that making any change, even within our own homes, is a challenge. Is it any surprise, then, that the challenge on the large scale can seem to be almost insurmountable?

Yet all that is required is that every human being makes one solid change - no plastic water bottles; no plastic bags; no plastic food wrappers - just one. Sticking to that one will already make an exponential change to the world as a whole. Then, having made that one change and made a habit of it, let each make one more change... then another. Step by step, item by item, WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

If all individuals take responsibility for themselves and their 'plastic action', it turns out that the family, the community, the society, the nation and ultimately the planet benefits.

It is so very easy to point outwards and say, '...these people...' Until one is oneself completely changed, 100% plastic-free, there ought to be no pointing. Lead by example!!! I know that most of my readers are already on this path and this is a bit of a 'preach to the converted' - but we can always do more, and part of that doing more is to take up the bone and run with it like the dog who hasn't eaten for a month.

On a related note but a little bit more upbeat to finish the post today; last week, I was purchasing tomatoes and potatoes which were loose on the grocery shelf at the supermarket. I was determined not to use their plastic bags, so just placed them on the checkout counter as they were. The lady on the seat desperately wanted me to corral them in a plastic bag and offered me twice - it would have made it easier for her, but she did finally understand that I just did not want the plastic. As I was packing the last of my items into my trolley, having completed the payment, the lady behind me started to UNPACK her tomatoes and broccoli and handed the plastic bags back to the checkout chick. "You've inspired me!" she said to me with a big smile.

Wahooooo...

Menolert; raising awareness

image from CLIPART MAX

Regular readers who have been around for some time know that I have a keen interest in how we can reduce the weight of our footprints upon our environment. As a reminder, or for newcomers, here are a few of my previous posts;

The Ocean Dump
Bandwagon 1
Bandwagon 2
Self-monitoring
A Project

I know you all to be very aware of the need to take some responsibility, but I also know how hard it can be to maintain the stance of 'activist'. It is important, therefore, to keep checking in and giving - or finding - reminders such as these posts.

Over at Travels With Birds, blogpal David has broken away from the avian and contributed a wonderful post on how to change one's usage. His wife, Miriam, has sewing skills and you will find on that link some amazing inspiration. Even for sewing idiots like myself, the concept of the produce bags ought to be easy to recreate.

Mind you, I have created a couple more of my bag-from-bags (see the project link above). However, they do carry a bit of weight in themselves, so cannot serve quite the same purpose as a full replacement for the plastic bags used to measure fruit and veg on the shop scales.

Do visit David's post and see if you can take away at least one idea to put into practice!

Menoloopalish - less rant, more confession

Monday was a wee bit of hiss and spit about words.

Words are sound. Having just spent a week in Edinburgh, I realised at one point I was feeling rather fractious and fidgety and it took a bit to recognise that I was feeling bombarded. Not just that a city is ever-full of background Unsilence, but that the father is never - never - without that darned box by the wall being on and blaring at the maximum decibels he thinks he can get away with. Even when visitors come in, he has to be asked to switch the thing off.

Admittedly, a lot of last week's (and this - I only got back to the Hutch yesterday) has been the sound of tennis balls getting maximum abuse and I am as guilty as he for listening to that. However, the rest of the time is 'yadayadayada' of various sorts and most of it I simply can't tolerate.

Then there's the endless munching on biscuits and cakes. Not me. Him. Then the having to vacuum all around that 'throne' for all the stuff that didn't make it to the mouth.

I love my father dearly, but given this is the man (along with the mother) who enforced limited viewing hours upon their kids so as not to 'fry the brains', who ensured that we were out and about on water or land enjoying all that nature has to offer, who was more interested in taking televisions (and radios) apart to assess the workings than actually watching or listening... given this is that man, I acknowledge that it breaks my heart (and does my head in) that he has become a blob upon a chair, in a room in which one cannot open the windows and would, were it not for his two senior daughters ensuring otherwise, just fester.

I need to confess my frustration with him here, and the discovery that I am angry with him. An intelligent active man all his life, who now is afraid of moving anywhere and uses the remote as a security blanket and the screen noise to keep him from having to engage in any meaningful conversation.

Then the guilt kicks in. I have no right, none whatsoever, to be angry with the father who has ensured that his children lacked for nothing. How can one be angry with a man who is sinking into the grip of a disease which - like all such maladies - cares not at all how it ravages the body? Who is to say that in twenty years time I won't be stuck in the same position? How dare I rant like this?

I dare because I know that using these words, putting 'sound' to them, allows for release and relief of the tension they describe. Writing is therapy, remember!

Sound is important. Yes, it can agitate, but it can be a salve also. This is why, for this month, I have chosen the healing chant for the 'monthly listen' (over on the sidebar - did you notice?) The world needs this, never mind each and every one of us in our daily plight.

Thanks for your ears. Comments are off for this one.

Menoloopal; a mini-rant

Last week's FFF offering brought some interesting comments forward. I responded to one;

It is one of life's eternal conundrums. Words and their definitions - then add in altered usage, never mind the addition of entirely new 'words'.

Have any of you seen the film I mention? I understand it may not have even hit most movie theatres (I found it online by one of those flukes of searching for something entirely different... sigh...) Look, in filmic terms, it is not a hot ticket; however, it tells the true story of a word-merchant (teacher) from a wee Scottish border town who somehow lands himself in the position of creating the very first Oxford Dictionary. Professor Murray (as he became) had the assistance of an inmate of Broadmoor, an institution for the insane, who was an American doctor. An unlikely relationship was begun, based purely on the love of the English language. If you find the DVD it is worth a look.

My point, though, was the task they undertook. Although the film rather fails on the part of the language itself, it does point to the difficulties of taming what is actually a wild beast! "English", let us be clear, is a cobbled-together tongue, arisen from many tribes. It is the original 'common language', preceding Esperanto by several centuries. Even its grammar is flexible in a manner most other languages cannot tolerate.

This leaves it open to constant flux. However, there are rules within it and some of those simply ought not to be broken... in my opinion. A pure academic argument on some of these points may find a way to justify them. ... but ...

One of my pet hates at the moment is the use of 'also' and 'too' in the same sentence, or 'as well' - and, on occasion, I have heard all three being used. I kid you not. It is the morning weather 'girl' (she's 55) that dad watches who really gets my goat. "In Scotland, also too, there will be showers and high winds as well." ....aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

There is just no excuse for that.

Then there is the misuse of the personal pronoun. "I" do not have to be all the time present!!! If the sentence in the singular could only be "me", it ought to be "me" in the plural.

Sorry, that sound you hear is my teeth grinding.

Then there is this software I have been using for 18 months now. Grammarly. Given what I pay for it, it lets me down quite a lot. What it DOES do is make me re-read my own work really closely and catches the vast majority of my errors mostly typos and transpositions and such. However, it gets a great deal just plain wrong. There have been mornings where the keyboard has been in danger of going through the screen, so frustrating are some of the 'suggestions' made for correction. I am thinking of writing to the creators. Their algorithm for 'improving' the software is failing. Or it is 'improving' according to overcorrection by other users IN ERROR. It is learning bad habits, in other words.

Deep breaths, YAM. Apparently, it is not the end of the world. Most folk these days don't even know what you are talking about. Language reflects the times and society, remember. The laxer the society, the laxer the language. So what if discipline and good etiquette are getting scrubbed?

Menoloopal - spouting forth

A couple of years back I posted THIS. The key point was the use of a cookie blocker extension on the search engine.

I opt to use "I Don't Care About Cookies." The link given in that old post was to the 'webstore' of Chrome. The link just provided here is direct to the website of the developer, Daniel Kladnik.

I donated again this week after two years; not as much as I would like but I still received a delightful personal thank you message from Daniel. The sort of thing you wouldn't really get from Microsoft or Google, let's face it! I feel I can also help by spreading the word, reminding those who may have seen this before, but also bringing it to the attention of those who have not previously been aware of this useful little browser extension. There are versions for Firefox and others too.

If you live where cookies are required by regulation and are getting fed up with constantly "accepting/agreeing" to their usage, then this is the extension for you!

In a similar vein, I remind you all that you do not have to put up with ads on your browsing; I use AdBlock Plus for regular viewing and also AdBlock for YouTube. It really unclutters the screen and one can agree to let some ads through on sites you wish to support.

'Sall I'm saying this Monday. Other than... twenty-three periods of sleep... you all know what I mean!

Menobirding; It's Important

Today is a bit of a menoloopal - a plea fledged from frustration. Might not have taken it up had I not come across a young blogger who is an out-and-out advocate for the safety of our endangered birds here in the UK.

Those of you who watch my efforts over at TAKE bloggy will know that I am actually rather a keen birder and have the Wings On Wednesday weekly post. Something I don't have in the collection are any of the UK's raptors. I do hope to one day rectify that. ...Well, I did actually attempt some shots of Marsh Harriers when I was down in Norfolk a few years back... but they were so distant as to be almost - almost I said - indistinguishable.

It was exciting to spot them at all, as they too are low in numbers.

Anyway, the point of this post is to bring to light and spread the word that many raptors over here are at risk due to commercial interests... the not so inconsequential matter of the annual grouse shoot, which traditionally begins this month. The Glorious Twelfth, as it is known. Open season.

The raptors are perceived as a danger to the grouse numbers, potentially taking chicks. Not just these amazing birds are at risk; there is a cull of rabbits and hares at this time too - apparently they pose a health hazard potential. Only at this time of year though, it seems...

Findlay Wilde is shouting it out. Better than that, he's Thunderclapping!!! There is also a campaign over at the RSPB site.

As I am not a subscriber to any of the social media access via Thunderclap, I promised Findlay I would post this and it will, of course, now be seen up on G+. I know a lot of you, dear readers, are keen on wildlife and nature of all kinds and like to support where you can. Will you too help to spread the word?

Thank you.

Menoportable [men-oh-port-able]; the condition of adaptability

Oh boy. Those of you who read yesterday's post will be prepared for the little bit of menoloop that is about to splash all over this page... 'scuse me whilst I face the wall for a minute ... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay. I'm okay. I am an adaptable little buddy.

That bizzo with the roof over the Hutch and its stair pals? Boy has that taken a spin. Suffice to say, I needed to be sure of my 'ground'. Started researching  (and most of you know I'sa not-so-paltry sniffer-outerer) and the thing grew like topsy. Turned out there is not only a Housing (Scotland) act of 2006, it is there because of the Tenement Act of 2004, and both came about because of the aging of Scotland's tenements and the severe lack of care and attention that many of them get. Whilst many, perhaps most, are privately owned, it does not mean that council is hands off. There is an equivalent of 'duty of care' for such places and owners are responsible for it. It's all there in (very lengthy) black and white print.

Which is all very common sense really and pretty much what I expected, to be honest. However, I needed to do this because if one is going to go into battle, one had better be jolly well armed, trained and backed up with full force. Talk about learning curve.

Cutting the story short, I called a meeting of owners last Friday evening. Two did not attend. The four present were sufficient for quorum and, in and around lots of letting off steam and my continual, quiet reiteration of the guidelines which keep us within guidelines, there was agreement and togetherness by close of proceedings. Full minutes taken, printed and signed, letters to various parties created, actions to be taken understood. We four, at least, parted with smiles and a sense of understanding that working together is the way to go.

Methinks I may be able to rub off some of my adaptability upon them - but I may need some wall-screaming time in the process. It keeps me sane; and adaptable.

End of menoloop. Thanks for listening.

Menoloopal; What The...???

Sticking with the techno-stuffs this Thursday, as I had the following happen to me last weekend.

No I didn't take time to make a screen shot - this is from
the Wikiplace; but it was equally as scary,
and locked up the browser.

"You've got a virus!!! Call us now..." on a tab I opened when researching British birds (you'd think safe, right?!). However, I had heard about these things. The warning is just a scare tactic. In fact, this kind of advertising is often called "scareware." The criminals' goal is to get you to call the phone number in the pop-up. Once they have you on the phone, they will try to convince you that you have a virus and you should pay them to remove it for you. If you pay, they'll have your credit card information; not good. They will also most likely install software on your computer, ostensibly to remove the virus, which will actually BE a virus that will attempt to steal more personal data or do other bad things with your computer.

If you get one of these warnings or pop-ups, you should immediately close your browser. You may need to force your browser to quit. That's ctrl+alt+del -> start task manager -> 'select all and end task' on pcs. Click here for other tech formats.

When you restart your browser, don't reopen your previous tabs, and don't click the link you visited immediately before you got the virus warning; otherwise, the whole thing will happen all over again. If you had several tabs open be very ready to click fast to close them all off, as the browser will probably open them all from memory.

Immediately run Malware Bytes, or similar, plus your regular antivirus to ensure nothing crept in. Generally, these initial popups are benign, but better safe than sorry.

Forewarned is forearmed. You now have been...

ADDENDUM; I actually scheduled this post a week ago, prior to coming over to Edinburgh for another week with the father. Whilst helping him out with some techno stuffs, there appeared before us last night another non-closable window, this time for "ByteFence". It was clearly a program which had installed itself and was trying to enfore usage. I immediately did the ctrl+alt+del and ended the task so as to be able to shut stuff down. Next I went to uninstall it... and it then attempted to enforce the use of another browser and to set it as the home page! I have never had anything do that from the uninstall action before. Obnoxious behaviour.

Research revealed that this is actually a 'legit' antimalware program, in and of itself. What is offensive about it is the very fact that it does come in uninvited, it does try to enforce usage, it does try to enforce change of browser, it does try to enforce home page preference and does have potential to be 'piggy-backed' by trojan horses and works etc... total lack of tech-etiquette. The general concensus of the geek sites I frequent is to uninstall; which I had done instinctively anyway. Father, however, didn't think there was anything wrong and had no idea whether he had actually said yes to it at anytime. Such software thugs depend on the vulnerability of those who are uninformed, untechy, or just plain senile. It was this exact sort of behaviour of the two types highlighted today, that has resulted in father having to rejig and his desktop system and had lost him a lot of nostaligic data.

...walks off stage right muttering into her chin... "menoloop, menoloop, menoloop....!!!!!!!!!"

Menoloopal Monday

Well, that was a quick three weeks since returning to the Bonny Land... and two weeks of it back in the Hutch.

Why have I titled this post a menoloop? 'Cuz I just have to vent about the text I received within 36 hours of landing back en terre. Some of you will recall that this time last year there was scaffolding outside the Hutch as the tenement** building roof required some attention. Due to poor neighbour relations (others... I was out of the loop), the work was not completed. It was not any surprise, therefore, to find that the tenant of the flat above me has had leaks springing through the ceiling and the owner is less than pleased. I agree with him the work must be done but, it will not be straightfoward.  It is not appropriate, neither worthwhile, trying to explain the fullness of why, except that the same troublesome neighbours still reside on the opposite side of the stair and Upstairs Guy is looking to get only our side of the building attended. I have had to mention 'legal stuff' and now he is consulting lawyers...

Oh yes folks, this could get a lot more messy before it becomes fully unmessy, so you may have to forgive if there is a bit of huffing and puffing from the YAMster every now and then. Never mind the aggravation and inconvenience that is anticipated - it is also going to be VERY $$pensive. Beyond budget. This means making big decisions. Don't expect to be hearing too much about travels from this side for quite some time!!! (Not any that cost, at least.)

**For those unfamiliar, the Scottish tenement is a building of six (sometimes eight or nine) flats, arranged two or three to a level, around a central stair, in what is usually a three-level building, but can be four or even five levels... some-such exist in old town Edinburgh and date their origins back to the 15th century. Majority of those were of only two or three rooms, originally without sanitation. Interested parties may like to read this.

The Hutch is in a stair of six flats and is on the middle level of three, being the smaller of the two on the level. In that piccie, you see the first window which is reflecting the light, on top level? The Hutch is the flat below it, not reflecting. Take a good look. There is every possibility the whole thing will crumble away if things do not go well.

Deep breaths. Keep smiling. 'Sall a gal can do.

On more cheerful things; Easter is drawing near and fast. After several months of neglect, I got to 'spring cleaning' the RedBubble store and have added a piece specific to that Festival... the product is an acrylic block, which self-stands and provides an almost 3D effect of the image. It works particularly well for this, don't you think?

If you prefer more 'free-range' spring enhancements, you may like to peruse clocks and/or frocks!

MenOZiscences - reviewing the Down Under Parts

I know, I know, am running posts a month behind - but not having web access in India does this kinda stuff to a blogger! This post is a bit of a rant as I get the nitty-gritty stuff outta the way...

Having landed in OZ, the first two days were just rest and recuperate from what had been a surprisingly intense and challenging time in India. There was so much to contemplate. Emm had arrived with that nasty cold and was really not in a fine state. Thankfully she did not have to return to work until the following Thursday, but it was still draining for her.

Meanwhile, yours truly had to get down to the business stuff on the first Tuesday (or last Tuesday of January as it turned out to be). Retire-invest review and sorting out the trouble with the card... why had they put a stop on it, thus preventing my being able to book flight back to base???

Well, long story short, they had gotten suss about a transaction in November of an amount of X- something pounds. Never mind all the air tickets and visas and other big stuff... no... a relatively paltry sum. They could not understand that DirectLine Insurance might have something to do with me. Which is daft, because I made the exact same payment the previous year... it being my car insurance! .......sigh......................... having gone through all their security checks again, the stop was lifted and the card was back under my control. Which meant I could at last set about booking my ticket out of OZ and back to the Bonny Land.

Therein lies a whole other tale of woe... turns out the end of February and beginning of March is a busy busy busy time. For Etihad anyway, they being my favoured airline. Won't bore you with the ins and outs of being a gold-card carrying frequent flyer and having a certain amount of airmiles to use and finding out that they could not be used during this time as it was so busy and they were selling all seats at optimum prices.... and that seats were disappearing from the booking chart as fast as blink. Again with the sighs................................. cutting this story short, ended up with the original flight I wanted, but at full Business Class fare... and all these airmiles to use up. Therefore immediately upgraded with a chunk of them to First Class. Why not eh?

Okay, so by the first Wednesday here I knew, at last, when I was leaving. As an Aussie citizen, it was not important, but it was important on another level... I land back on the day-anniversary of the Maestro's passing - it actually having been the leap-day last year, which had been that Monday. There will be a remembrance.

Fine, a chunk of business out of the way, what else to menoloop about? Well........

On that Tuesday, my throat had been a bit scratchy. On the Wednesday it was starting to get lumpy and there was a little cough developing. By the Thursday the sneezing and watery eyes had begun. Oh yeah, the lurgy caught up with me. By the Friday and Saturday I was laid flat and, worryingly, it was manifesting rather differently on me than Emm, as viruses are prone to do; they find the weak spot and work on that.  For the YAMster, that is the lungs, being an asthmatic.

My immunity is actually in good order. The last time I had a chest infection was some six years ago, so it was probably about time I had a 'booster'. I was in a time and place where I could let the thing work through, so simply let it do that. A key symptom was extreme lethargy. Not the usual weakness one expects, but as a symptom in and of itself. Even after the main symptoms began to recede, that remained - as did the chesty cough. It was only about the tenth day that I would say I was clear of it. This, of course, interfered with plans for getting out and about on Sydney town!!! Didn't even feel like contacting folk until the second Tuesday. ...........................wait for it......................... sigh......

There ya go. A whole post about the trubs and tribs in the Down Under Parts, which were really only molehills, but due to the lurgy being on me, seemed a bit like Ben Nevis. The interesting thing was - from a holistic perspective - in spite of it all, I managed to remain smiling and mentally in balance. This Vedantic sadhana chatushtaya stuff is paying off!!!

Thanks for listening. Onto the good stuff next week...😀