WHAT HAVE BRUNEL AND McADAM IN COMMON?

                                WHAT HAVE BRUNEL AND McADAM IN COMMON?

I tell you what they have in common - they'd both be turning in their graves if they knew just how long the roadworks on the M25 were taking between Junctions 5 and 6.   They appear to be replacing the central barriers that separate north and south, or in that part of the world, east and west.    I have to travel that section quite frequently and the number of accidents that one finds oneself behind, the queues of which are hideously long and up to an hour to get through.   And what do you witness from your driver's window as you sit patiently, because that is what an Englishman does?  I tell you what you see.   Bugger all going on.  There's white cars with flashing lights, there are various high viz jackets with hard hats talking, but precious little work being done.   Are they on piece work?   Or is the contract spread out over so long a period so as to incur no penalty charges.   I cannot believe that the Victorians wouldn't have had this one sussed and repaired within an extremely short time span.   When you think that the Great Western Railway changed hundreds of miles of broad gauge track to standard gauge over one weekend it makes you extremely depressed at the lack of progress we've made since those great innovators of engineering were around.

WHY CAN'T MY COMPUTER BE NORMAL?

                                          WHY CAN'T MY COMPUTER BE NORMAL?

We're going to have to do something about this computer.   It is now taking up to 20 minutes just for the cursor to react to a command from yours truly - well, not actually yours truly as my wife is typing this.  As you know, I am completely computer illiterate, so I dictate from the sidelines whilst my wife types, but as she says, you've been dictating for the last 40 years, so why stop now!   Even as she is typing this a box keeps appearing in the corner and the cursor springs to life in top left-hand side of the screen and you have to close the box before you can return to what you are doing - why?

The other day I asked it to print a letter, nothing complicated, just a letter.   This action should have taken (sorry, just had to stop to delete a previous e-mail  we have just sent which suddenly appeared in this sentence!) place immediately at 4.15 pm.   Despite making grunting noises and lulling me into a false sense of security that something was actually going to happen, nothing was forthcoming in the printer tray.  At 2 am I was awoken to the sound of the printer bursting into life and going through the machinations of my one letter, plus 20 forms I had asked it to print the day before!

I wasn't aware that computers were dyslexic either.   On Thursday of last week I had to travel to Aldington in Kent, so I typed in - or rather my wife typed in - Aldington Village Hall, Kent.   It came up with Adlington Village Hall.   Yes, our spelling was right, but its interpretation wasn't.   The problem is that nowadays I don't know what to replace it with as you can't trust anyone at PCWorld or at Curry's not to sell you a machine they get the greatest commission on.   If I sound cynical it's just that I live in England and expect poor service.

WINIFRED ROBINSON

                                                             WINIFRED ROBINSON

For those officiandos of that flagship broadcasting station Radio 4, I wonder how other listeners respond to the delightful intonations of the presenter Winifred Robinson.   I listen to her on "You and Yours" during the week as I travel around the south-east of England and there's something about her voice that really captivates me.   There is a dream-like quality which emanates from her voice and even the fact that she pronounces  the word "says" as "saze" is completely forgiven.   In fact, I have sat parked in a layby having munched my lunch and been totally consumed, to the point of being comatose.   I am of the opinion that  no-one need attend relaxation or stress busting classes - just listen from 12 noon to 1 pm on the days she presents, and the world will seem a much softer, peaceful and ethereal place.

COMMON IS AS COMMON DOES

                                                    COMMON IS AS COMMON DOES

I was just departing from a talk I gave  yesterday on the Surrey/SW London border and I happened to stop behind a car at a roundabout.   It was one of the very early Mondeos, more of a blancmange mould than a car.   Not only did it sport a personalised number plate, but it also had a slogan on the offside rear bumper, which read "I'm driving fast cos I need a poo!"   Can you imagine anyone in their wildest dreams having that on the rear bumper?   It was interesting to note that on the two occasions he turned left in front of me, there was no sign of an indicator being used.   As you know, in my book, if you have money to spend on a personalised plate then you should give it to a donkey sanctuary.  I t beggars belief that anyone could derive pleasure from having a number plate on their car just to say "look at me".   The most dreadful and heinous part of this whole encounter was that there was a total lack of an apostrophe in front of the abbreviation "cos".  I just hope that the driver stayed within the south London side of the Surrey border.

IT'S BEEN A WHILE

                                                                 IT'S BEEN A WHILE

My apologies for not having scribed recently but we've been busy clearing out my mother's house and getting it prepared for rental.  With a house that looks the same now as it did in 1981 when it was built, except slightly tired, there was quite a bit to do and it's surprising how one thing leads to another.   We were just going to decorate until we walked into the kitchen and realised that the lino really did need replacing before one could let it out.   We then looked at the brushed orange cupboards on the wall and realised that brushed orange is not a colour to attract a tenant.   So the cupboards have to go, along with the worktop and the base units.   You then realise that, in fact, it's easier just to completely gut the kitchen and instal new units, along with an oven, fridge and freezer.   Thankfully the boiler is only 2 years old, so that shouldn't need replacing - yet.   Fortunately, the bathroom isn't in avocado, though dusty pink it is still very eighties but at least it's clean.   My parents had carpet in the bathroom so that needs replacing.  The rest only need cleaning.   Being a landlord for the first time in my life, I also need to get an electrical somebody and a gas somebody to check over the systems and give me a certificate confirming that I haven't failed any EU dictat or extended British version.   So we look forward to that.   It's a bit like going into the Post Office as one used to do, with all your paperwork to enable you to re-tax the car.   It was always such a challenge remembering everything and such joy when they accepted your cheque and handed over your new disc.   But that was when we had Post Offices.

The other reason, of course, why I haven't been typing too much is that the computer has been buggered for the last few weeks.   It now appears to be only semi-buggered.   It seems to do what it wants to when it wants to and not what you want it to, when you want it to.   I've come to the conclusion that my computer is female.   Coincidentally, my wife, who is as always typing this, has come to the conclusion that it is male for exactly the same reasons! 

GERMANY CALLING

                                                             GERMANY CALLING

The full title of this comment should be "Germany Calling The Shots".   I see they have now come to an arrangement over the Cyprus financial situation which means that the poor people will not be losing all of their savings.   Did the powers that be at the European Central Bank and those in the political corridors not understand for a moment that there would be repercussions from the general public when confronted with their savings being taxed, irrespective of the percentage to be levied?    The fact that they obviously didn't expect resistance and thought  the Cypriot people would  just roll over and hand over their money is incredible and shows just how out of touch with the general public those who live in Euro towers tend to be.   It does not bode well when a bank spokesman comments  that this could be the model to be used for all other bail-outs.   We have used the term "thin end of wedges" previously in both blog and books but they never stop coming.   Before the Euro zone was inaugurated, countries never became bankrupt.  Somehow they seemed to pay their way.  A European central bank with common currency seems to be an ill thought  concept for political reasons, but reasons that are very conducive to German dominance.   As I said before, it's interesting to note that Germany is now running Europe without setting foot or firing a shot in Poland first.

COMIC RELIEF? MORE LIKE COMIC STRESS!

                                   COMIC RELIEF?  MORE LIKE COMIC STRESS

It has now become a quest, attempting to avoid Red Nose Day and everything that goes with it.  As those of you who know me will be only too well aware, I am not miserable by nature but I do find the substandard comedy, the improvisation and the hideous attempts to sit for six hours in a bath full of baked beans, all slightly unedifying.

I never thought I would have anything in common with Germaine Greer but I am reminded that she appeared on Room 101 a little while ago and attempted to send charity organisations to the bin.  To be fair, it wasn't charities per se, but their attempts at raising money.  I am in total agreement with her.  The idea of jogging up 20 mountains, travelling by pogo stick from John o'Groats to Lands End and generally being an embarrassment to those you hope will sponsor you just fills me with dread.  As she said, why not just send a cheque to the appropriate charity and get it over with?  Last night was not conducive to tuning in to BBC 1.  Luckily, there was an extremely interesting programme on George Mallory and Everest on BBC 2.  I can't remember him being sponsored by  Red Noses  in the mid-1920s.  He just donned gaberdine attire and hobnail boots - a proper person! 

The only contact I had with Red Nose Day yesterday  was due to my fruitless attempt to find the car park entrance to Waitrose in Cobham, Surrey.  With a desire to consume an Indian meal once home, I continued my journey to Sainsbury's where I was greeted by some complete oaf donning a red nose and a t-shirt, expecting shoppers arriving to donate to his cause.  I gave him a wide berth.  It didn't end there, of course, as every member of staff was wearing red.  Have just made a note in the diary not to visit Sainsbury's on Red Nose Day next year.  Can somebody please send me a bucket of sand and I will willingly bury my head in it.