To Sleep: Perchance To Dream....

Ever since I was a kid I have talked in my sleep.
As I got older and had more worries (I suppose) I became a sleep-shouter and then a sleep-crier. Sometimes I wake myself up shouting; sometimes I have to be woken by Big Man because I am shouting. Or crying. And sometimes a combination of all three. I normally only do it when I haven't taken anything to knock me out (because of Big Man's horrendous, seismic snoring I am tranquillised almost every night otherwise I'd never get any sleep, broken or otherwise. Funny that, isn't it? He's the one with the problem but I'm the one who is medicated..)

It's rare for me to remember what has upset me so but that's not to say I don't ever remember dreams. Most are completely surreal, for example one a week or so ago when I dreamed that one of Red's ex-boyfriends ( let's call him Pigface for the sake of argument) arrived at my house dressed as Joey Ramone complete with sunglasses and black wig - Pigface is actually a gingery blonde who would like to be a Viking but is more Piltdown Man -  and begged Red to go out with him. She eventually, reluctantly agreed. At the same time thirty perfectly-formed but only knee-high teenage girls had called over to see Mr Charming. All very bizarre. I tell the rest of the family my dreams when I can remember them and always ask 'what do you think it means?'. I'll leave you to guess at the kind of answers I get.

There are no other sleep-talkers/shouters/criers in the family but that doesn't mean that there aren't others who, like me, are plagued with crazy dreams. Many years ago Babcia was dreaming that she was a racehorse in the Grand National. She ran faster and faster and managed to take the lead. Just as she approached the winning post another horse came up beside her and was about to go past. In her desparation to win at all costs and nobble her rival, she turned and bit the other horse savagely on the neck....only to be awoken by a cry of pain from my Dad. Whose upper arm she had sunk her teeth into. Poor Dad. Three days break from the toughest job in the world and he ends up as a snack for Nijinsky.

Babcia's never lived it down.

Stardrops Keep Falling On My Head

Well they will do when you buy nine bottles at a time!

Apologies to anybody on the South Coast who is looking for Stardrops but when I tracked down nine bottles (all they had) on the shelf of Poundstretcher I had to buy them all - who knows when I might find some again? To those who haven't used it before Stardrops is the apex of cleaning fluids, making any and all household tasks a breeze! (O dear....looking at old knitting patterns yesterday has made me talk like a 50s housefrau!!). I first heard about Stardrops on moneysavingexpert.com and when I saw it in Wilkos I thought I'd try it. I've gone through a couple bottles since then and it's become harder and harder to find it. It's not been available for ages in my local Sainsburys or Asda; they've heard of it but don't sell it at Clarence Hardware (just about THE best hardware store in the world...you know, the kind where all the prices are handwritten and you can buy a single screw?); and like I said, it's not stocked at my local Wilko's. They have offered to get some sent in from Fareham or Boscombe but given the level of staff torpor there I've pretty much given up on that happening. I did ask Babcia to be on the lookout for it in our malignant Northern hometown but now I've found it myself she can cross that off her list of jobs. Are Stardrops more of a Northern thing, like patties and savoury ducks do you think?

The only problem I have now is where to store them - at the frequency I do my housework they'll be there a loooong time!!

Sussed!!!

I discovered this old knitting pattern in a charity shop today and finally realised what Babcia had been doing whilst I was at Grandma's house....

Her modelling days (in the middle)...

...and her real life as a meek and mild wife and daughter-in-law. She hated being skinny back then because it wasn't the norm at all. People used to say she was so thin that she could dodge the raindrops on a stormy day. She had a 22" waist and a concave chest when she brought me home from hospital, whereas I was probably 22" around the top of my arm when I brought Mr Charming home from the maternity suite. She gradually put on a little more weight but when Twiggy came along a few years later and was feted for her boyish figure it was a bitter pill for Babcia to swallow. I don't believe she has ever got over it... 

Got The Washday Greys...

When I decided at the start of the year to crack down on our spending and repay as quickly as possible our enormous debts, I didn't expect to have to buy new underwear as a result.

One of the things I've always 'just done' is, on the rare occasions I peg out washing, I still tumble dry all our smalls. In the past I used the tumble dryer ALL the time, even when it was a good drying day, partly through bone-idleness and partly because a tumble dryer was (and remains) such a novelty to me. Before we got one I had to rig up clothes lines across the rooms of our very cold house every winter to try to dry the kids uniforms and stuff - a hellish business - which took forever. So, even after owning a tumbler for about eight years I still love and appreciate it. However, I'd read frequently that driers use a lot of electricity so I decided that, as much as I was able I would hang washing out. We have a very long and very high line that works with a pulley (as opposed to the clothes props that were - still are - common in the North where I grew up) so it's not as if I have any excuse. The problem of electricity use became more pressing when we got a £1200 bill just before Christmas last year. EDF hadn't been reading our meter properly and to cut a long story short we're paying a stonking great £175 a month to rectify it. Ugh.

All this brings me to the new underwear situation. As well as the big clothes I am now also hanging out our undies and to be frank mine leave a lot to be desired. Grey. Baggy. Frayed. The pachyderms of nether regions coverings in fact. And, it goes without saying, sensibly big. I don't know about you all but I've always been a big knickers wearer, even as a skinny little chick. Not for me the Red-type thongs that are just a couple of pieces of ribbon....I like something far more substantial, and I put it down to the Arctic winters of my youth. O, and I'm a nesh bugger.

As chief washerwoman, folder and ironer I am usually the one who discards everyone else's ratty undies, consigning Big Man's holey old boggies to the duster pile with a curled lip. By the way, does anybody else use old (clean, obviously) underwear as dusters? The first time Big Man saw me cleaning the windows with a pair of his 'A Present For A Good Girl' pants he recoiled, aghast. Maybe it's just me. Anyway, now I have to do a little discarding of my own because it's just too shameful for my drawers to be seen in public. Before anybody suggests dying them, it's gone way, way beyond that stage. In fact, as a subscriber to the universal fear of being knocked down whilst wearing dirty knickers I should have realised long ago that being knocked down whilst wearing past-their-best knickers is equally as mortifying and done something about it. I am such a slattern.

Henceforth I will be going to that temple of sensible and economical undercoverings, George at Asda, tomorrow. I think I might have to spend up to a fiver for six pairs! Thank goodness I'll be saving £2 a tub on the Ben and Jerry's ice cream I'm planning to pick up at the same time.... ;P

A Tale Of Two Kiddies

Mr Charming has, in the last couple of days, paid his first month's rent cheque for the flat he is sharing during his second year at uni in Cornwall. Today he sent me a text to let me know he got an essay back and his mark was 7% off a First.

Red texted me today and said that the landlord has sent an eviction notice to her and her four housemates. In the last couple of days she has decided that she is going to drop out of her Psychology degree at the end of this, her second year, and 'find a job'.

Somebody please tell me everything's gonna work out fine!!

Out Of Sorts...Time To Take To My Bed Methinks

Thanks to you who hoped I had a good night at work last night. It was okay...fairly tedious although I did have a 'poor me' moment this morning at 6.30. Like I said I work in a care home, not as a carer, but I was kinda 'bumped' into covering for short-staffedness by working as a carer for a 12-hour shift. I got some knitting done, watched a bit of Tomb Raider and finished a jigsaw but by about 4.00 I was starting to flag. At 6.30 I found myself in a client's bathroom and at the same time the Kings of Leon 'Use Somebody' came on his radio. All I could think was that a couple years back I was camping at Reading Festival with Red and we were singing along to that same tune with thousands of other KOL fans. Now here I was, washing an old man's armpits. How the f*!/@ did I end up here? Cue plenty of Slavic/Gaelic gloom...

I know how I ended up here. I'm trying to pay off debts incurred by our defunct business, which is why my altercation with Big Man yesterday (things are still rather fraught, btw) seemed so unjustified. I just don't know....can you all please put your Crown Court wigs on...?

It seems to me that, in almost all of the PF blogs I read it's the female partner who does the bulk of the worrying, repaying, figure-juggling and just plain sorting-out of the finances (with Frugal Queen's DB an honourable exception...possibly more too) and mine and Big Man's situation is no different. He pays lip-service to debt repayment but he doesn't have the drive or desire to owe nothing that I do. He puts the big light on in the front room at night when he's just watching TV then gets annoyed when I ask whether it's necessary. He isn't willing to give up his 5 or 6 bottles of wine a week. He never checks the freezer or cupboards before buying bread or mayonnaise or ketchup or whatever he fancies (which drives me CRAZY!!! I always say 'at least it's your own money you're wasting..' That's right, I have our money, he has his money). He has always left all financial affairs to me - this was the most sensible thing to do when he was away at sea - but if you're thinking that I got us into this mess on my own, erm...no. We had a business that failed. I begged Big Man to fold it 18 months before he finally agreed which has resulted in us having to repay an £18k personal guarantee (an overdraft taken out in the period when I wanted us to close the whole show down) and has given Nat West a charge on our house. That's the background.

Big Man's car had to be scrapped and when the hauler came he left a cheque for £150 that wasn't made out to anybody. In December last year I too had a car that was scrapped and I too got £150 that I used to repay a small overdraft. I assumed, rightly or wrongly, that we were in this together and that Big Man's £150 would go towards debts. I didn't realise that when Big Man came home from work he saw the blank cheque. I thought it would be funny to write my name as the payee then show it to him with an innocent face, saying 'look who the man made the cheque out to!'. Which I did. And he was furious.

That was HIS money. That I was controlling. That it wasn't funny. That HE'D paid for that car. I said that it was just a joke, that I'd assumed it was going to go towards paying credit cards down (especially since, despite knowing we...well, obviously it's I; I know that now...were working hard to get rid of the Halifax credit card he put £81 on the card to pay for some extra car insurance. He said that he'd told me he was going to do that but it wasn't true. He was just banking on me not remembering, like people sometimes don't when they are working FOUR JOBS! However I never forget anything to do with money...); that I thought we were in this together. But clearly we're not. I think the thing that upset and yes, insulted me the most, was when he said 'since you've taken it just make sure you pay it all onto the Halifax card'. As if I haven't been working my ass off since the start of the year and paid every penny I've earned against our debts. I don't get wine. I don't buy a M&S Brie and Cranberry sandwich nearly every day. I don't want to buy takeaways every week. 
It ended up with me transferring the £150 straight into his bank account from the joint one. And he let me. So am I the effing idiot or what?
Don't get me wrong. Big Man has a lot of good points. I'm starting to realise though that the bulk of this is going to be on me and that frightens and saddens me a bit.

The final 'taking to my bed' spur was Red's problems with her landlord. I went to bed at 9.00 this morning. At 1.30 Red rang to say that she and her oppos were having problems with their landlord over some rent. There are five sharing the house and the couple amongst them have unbeknownst to the landlord moved in a snake, some stick insects, a lizard and a very big lizard. They don't want to antagonise the landlord in case he calls over and finds the Lewisham Zoo in his front bedroom. Red and her two other friends want to move out and quick. After asking whether she had woken me up Red proceeded to chunter for another half an hour. Within 20 minutes the letting agent rang to complain about Red. Well, I think that's what she thought would happen but she hadn't bargained for the now extremely fractious Tiger Mother. After sending her off with a flea in her ear I had another two calls from Red, one from her friend and one from her landlord. According to Red and her friends he is psychotic and needs to be sectioned. After today he and I should get along fine.

So m'learned friends. Thoughts and sympathy gratefully received. Seriously...don't be kind just 'cos you like me....
I'll be in bed if you need anything.

If You're Ever Hungry In York....

...then might I suggest two totally different but totally fab eateries that we tried on our mini-break?

The first was Henry J Bean's at Tower Street. I'd looked at 'places' on my phone, an app that shows restaurants, cinemas, cafes etc that are near you. I liked the idea of this one because it said it's an American diner (my favourite) BUT there were some pretty damning reviews on there. I was a bit put off though when we came upon it by chance the menu looked so nice (plus what we could see of other diners' food through the window - we were like the Bisto Kids!!) that we decided to try it. We were so happy we did.
Our server was Joanne (hello, if you're reading this!!) and she was very warm and attentive. She asked us whether we wanted to watch the football or not - when we said we didn't she showed us to a booth by the window, away from the TV. We started with nachos with chilli. It was really tasty though with hindsight maybe a mistake because it was soooo filling! We followed this up with a cheese and bacon burger each (mine with blue cheese) with salad, onion rings and chips. The burgers come served on a kind of hollowed-out slat of wood. The burgers were meaty and juicy; the baps were soft and the chips were light and crisp. The blue cheese was oozing off the top of my burger...nom nom nom. Sadly there was just too much for us to eat after the nachos (and a bottle of more-ish Rekorderlig Swedish cider!) and both of us had to leave a bit - a shame because it was just heavenly.  Even worse, we were too full for pudding!
With the tip we paid around £40 and thought that was pretty reasonable for a great meal, excellent service and a lovely atmosphere. 9/10 from us!

The second restaurant we tried was an Indian buffet-style place, Jinnah on Cumberland Street. The cost here was £10.95 each for all you can eat. I've got to say Indian food isn't my most favourite, though I do like it - this was Big Man's choice of restaurant. It's a big, modern-looking place where the staff are again very attentive and the manager/maitre d' is totally charming. Firstly there is a plate of poppadoms with lots of different chutneys and dips (really delicious, especially the sweetish date one) then followed a sizzling dish of lamb kebabs, onion bhajees, tiny lamb cutlets and vegetable samosas. Also delicious! The next stage was the actual buffet - a long display of veggie and meat curry dishes of varying hotnesses (heats?) and a couple different types of rice. These were served with a giant piping-hot naan bread. But like Henry J Bean's the night before the starters were so filling I could only face one round of the buffet. I chose Chicken Tikka Masala and though it tasted okay the colour was so luminous it fair put me off....imagine one of Scarlett's flamingoes.....!
Since I only had a bit of the buffet I was able to force down a dessert and I had a gorgeous, palate-cleansing Lemoncello sorbet/ice cream. Yum! I give it 7/10 but Big Man gives it a thumping 10/10!!

So don't let anybody tell you we can't cook great food in the UK - I like to cook and I like to eat and these two places are as good as anywhere you'll find. I haven't been paid for these reviews, by the way. But if either Henry J Bean's or Jinnah wanna throw a free meal this way I'll not say no....;P

On another note, I am working tonight - the first time I've worked overnight since I did a shift, ooooh........18 years ago at the St Ivel factory. Anybody who thinks you can never get too much chocolate only has to spend 10 hours on the tiramisu conveyor belt. And that's just the smell...
I digress. It's a good job I'm out later because Big Man has upset, hurt and insulted me to such a degree that I'm sure the mother of all rows would ensue if I stayed here. I'm not sure whether he realises what he's done and is brazening it out by blaming me; whether I really HAVE done something as reprehensible as he's making out; or whether he truly is as lacking in self-awareness as he seems to be. Or whether I'm just a complete girly sap with nothing to complain about.

I'll tell you tomorrow and you can all set me straight.....



Trip To York

Big Man and I had a really lovely time in York - I didn't want to come home! I was surprised by the size of it - we kept finding more and more places to look around. I liked the Shambles, though Big Man was a bit disappointed with it.

Little shrine to Blessed Margaret Clitherow at The Shambles - so peaceful

I don't think I could be disappointed with any part of York. Of course we did the touristy bits; the Jorvik Centre, where I made the mistake of listening to 'Jorvik's' narration in the little car, rather than the sensible, informative narration; and the York Dungeon where one of us (alright, it was me) was pulled out of the group to be put in the dock in the courtroom. I had to sing, dance and call on Beelzebub. On the basis that I will never see any of the other people again I threw myself into it, in a way that anybody who sees me regularly would have been amazed at. What can I say? I was on holiday.

There was some fantastic architecture to be seen, a lot of it high up.

And of course the Minster was incredible. It's hard to believe that this carving is still all done by hand. But great that it is - at least mechanisation hasn't completely taken over. See the contrast between the new carving and the eroded old carvings?



We saw some geese with their goslings just near the Castle. As soon as you went near the mothers set up such a hissing and were really aggressive, showing that mothers are the same whatever their species!

I know I said that nothing about York was a disappointment to me but in fact I was very let down by the charity shops. If you remember I'd printed off my list specially but there was nothing much to interest me. They certainly know how to price up there too! I got a couple of bits but nothing with the wow factor. We drove through Big Man's old stomping ground, Nottingham, on the way home and I saw some tasty looking charity shops around Hyson Green but he refused to stop, much to my annoyance. Maybe it was for the best....I'd spent quite enough. A lot less than I would have done this time last year. But enough.

York. It's corking!





Catching Up

As a result of six weeks continuous work (census, polling station, pedestrian counting) the house has gone to rack and ruin and I need to catch up with my housework big style. It needs a jolly good sort out and clean....a real Spring Clean is what's needed but it won't get one just yet. We're going on a trip!

Big Man and I are spending two nights in York, leaving tomorrow. It's only a cheapie Travelodge break but for £19 a night you can't complain. Neither of us have been there before so it'll all be new. Apart from the Jorvik Centre, which I really want to see, we're happy to just take things as they come. I have printed off a list of charity shops in York from this website so I'm ready to go. Still have to pack but I'll do that in the morning. And a bonus is that we'll stop off and see Babcia and Dad on the way up and Big Man's folks, Patsy and Babs, on the way back. They are near Stamford, another place I'd like to visit. I would've liked to stayed a night in Stamford too but I don't want to leave Otto for too long.

I'll be back blogging with lots of pics (I hope!) on Thursday. Byesie-bye!!!!

A MASSIVE Job Jobbed And A Dilemma Resolved

I finally finished my census job tonight and I feel like a kid let out of school for the holliers! It wasn't at all onerous - the weather was lovely, people were polite and sweet, I was able to work at my own pace and the money has been a real help to me in my debt-reducing endeavours. I'll miss doing it in a way but after six weeks I'm ready to get my nights and weekends back. Pity it's only every ten years - I'd do it every year!

Good bye, money-making opportunity!

Today a dilemma was solved for me, but not really the way I wanted it to be.

Our new manager at work, Mac, asked me on Wednesday whether I would consider doing some extra work as a carer. My job is Activities Co-ordinator in a nursing home and doesn't involve any care-related work, even though I have been trained in Manual Handling and a few other bits - I suppose that was one point in Malicia's favour....she gave me a couple of other strings to my bow. The idea was that, because we are very short of carers, I would become a 'bank' carer to fit in as and when at times when we're short-staffed. A separate contract with a tiny bit more money in the hourly rate. I told Mac that I'd think about it and tell him today.

I went home and spoke to Big Man about it - he wasn't keen, and I can see it from his viewpoint. We both wanted to work part-time so that we can take care of Carb Addict between us when he's home from his unit (he's a 38-week boarder, which means he's home every weekend and every holiday), and so that I can do my other bits of work (like mystery shopping, eBaying, this census and Poll Clerk stuff, etc). I thought about it and decided that I WOULD do it, with some caveats. One, that it was only until the end of the year; two, that it was just 'as and when', not set shifts; and three, that it was a separate contract. 

I went in to work this morning and told Mac my conditions....what do you think he said? He told me that things had changed and that it looked as if it was sorted out now - someone who had been offered a job working nights and turned it down had come back and said that she would do it; another person's sister is going to be a bank carer; and our housekeeper/cook had asked if she could transfer over to care work. So all my deliberating and cogitating was for nothing! The main reason I'd agreed was to save myself from having to scrabble around for more work now my other stuff has finished but it looks like I'll be scrutinising the mystery shopping websites again from now on! 

You never know, things could change again and at least Mac has said that rather than recruit a second Activities Co-ordinator to share my job when we get more residents, I can keep upping my hours (I currently do 16 hours over four days). And as I always say, everything happens for a reason. 

For now I'm going to relax and enjoy my weekend. On Monday me and Big Man are off on a little jaunt for a few days....one of us sure deserves it!!!!!!

AV Or Not AV? That Is The Question.....

...but I don't want your answers. Votes are secret, right?

Today I spent 15 hours at a local polling station. I was a Poll Clerk for the day and whilst it wasn't super-massive fun it wasn't too onerous. My colleagues, all but one of whom were city council employees, were complaining about how long the day was going to be from about 9 am (we started at 6.30 am); how it was going to drag; and how tedious it was going to be. They obviously have never spent 12 hours on a railway siding counting pedestrians....no moral fibre.

Like I said, all but one of the other five people knew each other from work and had done the job on several occasions. Poll clerks were paid about £150 after tax - not bad and mine will go straight into the bank tomorrow. However, one of the council employees told me that he had expected to have to book a day's leave to work in the polling station today and was pleasantly surprised to be told that not only didn't he have to book a day off, he also would get his regular day's pay PLUS the clerking pay. Is it just me or does anybody else find that totally outrageous?! I was really annoyed (but hid it very well, obviously) and just said 'no wonder you're all clamouring for the poll station work then' - when I had my training for the job almost all the others there were council employees.

I find it amazing that the council would happily pay its employees twice for the one job and am not at all surprised that public sector workers are clinging onto their jobs and perks with all their might. That's money from council tax paid by all the inhabitants of this city and I think it's just wrong, wrong, WRONG. I can understand that nobody's going to say 'actually, I won't take two lots of pay for this one day's work', after all they are just going along with a precedent that has been set, presumably for a long time. But at a time when councils are moaning that they have to cut back on frontline services perhaps they should look at the money that they've paid out to their employees for this one day. And I don't wanna hear the argument 'if the council workers weren't willing to do it there wouldn't be enough people to man the polling stations' - my local council found an extra 150 that they were told were needed with no trouble at all.  It just seems like 'jobs for the boys' to me.

I must say, I've worked in the NHS and it was nothing like the rest of the public sector seems to be. Cushy with a capital C.......

Metal Gear Solid + Metal Nose = Corrosion Of Sanity

I've blogged before about my #2 son Carb Addict who is 17 and severely autistic. He can't really speak properly; can't socialise and has obsessive behaviours - boy does he have obsessive behaviours! Unlike Rain Man (who is probably most people's idea of autism) he has no savant-like talent, unless you count being able to rewind a CD, cassette tape, video or DVD to the exact same place over and over again one. He can also identify unlabelled videos and cassette tapes just by how far the tape has spooled through. A party trick I suppose but not something that's going to get a documentary made about him. He loves music from the 50s, doo wop mainly, which he looks at constantly on YouTube. His current favourite is the first 9 seconds of this song from the Duprees.

It's nothing unusual for him to play just that tiny 9 second snatch up to 80 times in a row. We can kind of switch it off now but it's mesmerising for strangers to see. Before Carb Addict got a place at the unit where he boards during the week we, as a family, had to have lots of interviews, psychological tests (yes, really) AND video cameras set up in the house so that the Clinical Psychologist in charge could see for himself the behaviours Carb Addict displayed. In other words to see whether we were exaggerating his problems in order to get him a boarding place. The CP told us in amazement that he had watched footage of Carb Addict replaying just one word in a cartoon for 25 minutes non-stop. Now that's obsessive behaviour.

It's also by-the-by. In this house we have a PS1 and a PS2. We had a PS1 game called Metal Gear Solid...I think it's some kind of fighting game. Carb Addict started looking at it constantly on YouTube, who knows why, then started asking for it. Within a day he started saying 'Metal Gear Solid' in response to everything. I would say 'Morning, are you okay?' and he would say 'Metal Gear Solid'. I might be in the bath and he would open the door and say 'Metal Gear Solid'. Talking on the phone to Red he would come in the room and I would say to her 'say hello to your brother'. Carb Addict would take the phone and say 'Metal Gear Solid'. You get the picture. I was pretty sure we still had this game and asked Mr Charming where it was. He couldn't find it but he did tell me that his brother doesn't want to play it, only get to a certain place where a character dies and gives a strangled scream, the sound of which appeals to Carb Addict. That I didn't think this was at all odd just shows what I've put up with for the past 17 years.

To cut a long story short Carb Addict found the disc for Metal Gear Solid but sadly he had stood on it at some stage, rendering it useless. Being a tolerant Keshling I bid on a copy of the game on eBay and won it. Hurrah! You might think that knowing a copy of Metal Gear Solid was on its way might appease him a bit but no, it's made it 100% worse. We moved on to counting down how many days it would take to arrive. From just 'Metal Gear Solid' to 'Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday home. Metal Gear Solid!' Repeated over and over and over again. Carb Addict went back to the unit this morning so we have a few days respite from it but the first thing he said to the carer who opened the door to him was 'Metal Gear Solid'.

I've emailed the seller and he's told me that he was going to post the game first thing this morning so I'm just crossing everything that it comes by Friday. Things will get pretty ugly round here if it doesn't...

Talking about things ugly, I am very sad because my beautiful Red tells me she has had her nose pierced. I always tried to play it a bit clever by saying 'yeah, get a tattoo, I don't mind...yeah, get your ears pierced twice, I pierced my own four times' and so on, the idea being that if I thought it was a good idea it would put her and Mr Charming off doing it. And it worked....so far. The only thing I said I didn't EVER want her to do was get her face pierced. I always have this idea that if you have a pierced face then take the stud or whatever out the hole won't close up but will fill with muck and be like a big blackhead. And it really spoils your face! Red has a couple of housemates who are both lovely-looking girls but have two or three facial piercings each...bottom lip, nose, cheek. I think they've damaged themselves and I didn't want her to do the same. She says it's only a small gem stud but I don't understand why she'd want to get one at all. So I'm feeling inordinately down about it. I know she's 21 and the chances are she's not gonna keep it for long but still...she's my baby girl and it's hard for me. I guess I'm just over-reacting dope and it could be a lot worse....borstal spot anyone??

PS....check out this great giveaway on the {A Thrifty Mrs} blog......I wanna win this soooooo bad!!!!

Goodbye Malicia, Goodbye

I said I had some exciting news the end of this week and I think it's finally safe to tell you. If you read this post you'll remember that I've been working for a truly toxic boss, Malicia. Well, we had a staff meeting a few weeks ago and the kicker at the end was that she had handed in her resignation and would be leaving on April 27. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah, hallelujah, halleeeeelujah!!!

It was really odd because on the agenda was 'Manager' and when we got to that item, the last on the list she said 'Well, I want you all to know that Malicia is leaving, she's setting off for pastures new' and continued talking about herself in the third person. Bizarre. She carried on to say that she had been headhunted and had two interviews and actually been offered the job but turned it down (a likely story - would any company headhunt a 62 year old who is leaving her job voluntarily after 10 months? I think not.) She told us that she is thinking of opening a coffee shop with her other half who has now retired and wants her to slow down. For varying reasons, not least that she can't relate to people and has none of the warmth of character you expect from a host, I can't see her pulling this one off. Stas, our lovely Polish RGN always says that 'she is like vampire, taking all the happiness away'. Not really what you want serving up your muffin and latte.

One or two of the staff said 'all the best' and 'good luck for the future' but I said nothing. I can't be a hypocrite....I just remember how she upset and offended everybody; has had almost every member of staff in tears at times; and drove out our lovely Clinical Manager and our great fun, dynamic chef. No, I am not sorry in the slightest...inside I was cheering. And the best news is that our super laid back Deputy Manager is taking over from her. It's the best possible result. All last week the atmosphere was so much lighter - we could laugh, have a bit of a joke....we all sat down together with the residents and watched the Royal Wedding. Everybody was happy and relaxed. There's just no way that would have been allowed had Malicia been there. I already liked my job, despite everything. Now I'm gonna LOVE it!!!!

And no, I didn't sign her card or put anything in the collection. Anybody who can tell a person they're not smiling enough at work a fortnight after their sister died wouldn't get the steam off my ?!%*@, as they say in the North....

Extreme Couponing

I was going to tell you my exciting news today but I decided to hold off until tomorrow, just to be sure, and write about a show I watched this evening. Did anybody else see 'Extreme Couponing' on Real Time? Over half an hour you meet two different women who use money off coupons for their food shopping and have as a result built up massive stockpiles of provisions. These women clip coupons from newspapers for hours each day and take advantage of the supermarkets' policies of matching manufacturers' coupons to reduce their bills by up to 98%. They are incredibly dedicated, usually have big families and can count on the support of their husbands to help them with the numerous trollies and transactions it takes to save the biggest amount of money. One couple spent over an hour going through the checkout and five hours in the supermarket in total. I can just see THAT being tolerated in Asda.

Watch in awe.....

This girl is 24 and has no children. In the show she ends up with $562 worth of provisions for $26 - they are having a party and needed to 'stock up'. Huh? Apart from the fact that we don't get coupons like that here, most British homes just wouldn't have the room to store those amounts of food. Would we want to? Would you be an extreme couponer if you had the time, coupons and storage space or does it strike you as just a little bit....obscene? I mean, everybody has a right to spend their time and money exactly as they wish, that's a given but all I can think is, why would you want to have all that food and stuff? If it costs you so little why not use your time and energy once a month to coupon on behalf of a homeless charity? This girl does consider that extreme couponing is her talent after all....

Another thing that struck me was that, foodwise all the things that were being couponed seemed to be highly processed - a lot of hot dogs, sugary breakfast cereals, cheese slices, crisps, snacks and ready-made sauces. Nobody seemed to be buying fresh fruit or vegetables, even though one lady was buying what she needed for her monthly menu plan. They all had tens of tins of soup and canned vegetables plus hundreds of rolls of loo roll, bottles of shampoo, cleaning products by the score and boxes and boxes of wash powder. I was mesmerised - it's so very alien to our experience of shopping in the UK, even for the very frugal. Though to be fair, other shoppers were standing around in amazement when these mammoth transactions were taking place so I'm not imagining for a second it's commonplace on this scale in the US either.

I personally am rubbish with coupons. We get so few here anyway really and when I do see one that covers something I actually would use I usually get to the checkout and don't have the coupon with me. Or I get something, take it to the checkout, offer my coupon and find it isn't accepted in the store (in Sainsbury's with a copy of She magazine where the coupon was only usable in Smith's springs to mind. Believe me, I flounced).

So watch the video then book your seat for next Sunday at 9pm, Discovery Real Time (cable channel, not sure if it's Freeview too). It's an eye-opener for sure. Then tell me, could you do it? Would you?

PS -  Regarding needing a compliant husband for extreme couponing, Big Man happened to see the boyfriend in the above video....Snort. 'Bloody daft lad'...

I rest my case.

March/April SitRep

Well, where did April go? I kept meaning and meaning to do a March sitrep so that I could tell you how the frugality is going and before I knew it the month was over. Suppose because I was working two jobs and some weeks three - the time flew by AND it was harder to spend money too. I've made a good few bob from my census collecting job - it hasn't been in the least bit onerous (the weather helped there) and apart from my gun scare it's been very civilised. However, this is the last week coming up so that money will end. I'm still waiting for my cheque from the pedestrian counting gig and for some mystery shopping I did for Secret Shopper. It was the start of March when I did that - a pretty long wait and you're paid in dollars. What's $50 worth? About £30? It cost me almost that in petrol but then again I did have Babcia here on holiday at the time so it made a nice change for her to be driven around the Hampshire countryside. Instead of just driven round the bend by my Dad. Boom boom!! I have a very long day on Friday as a Poll Clerk - my first time! I think we get paid extra because the AV referendum is on the same day...we also get our cheques at the end of the night rather than waiting for it to be sent.

So, down to brass tacks. Over the two months we reduced our debt by £1903.64 - we are both really made up about it. I've brought a £450 overdraft into credit and paid off a couple other smallish debts too....they related to our business which currently isn't pulling in enough to cover the bills without our personal money. In addition we have fines from Companies House to pay plus the £18k personal guarantee Big Man gave for our failed business. We also have two credit cards that we are trying to pay off....both were used trying to keep our old business afloat and one of them was used to pay for a holiday we went on in December 2006. Shameful isn't it? I don't wanna be paying for two weeks in Sharm-el-Sheikh five years ago for the next ten years. The thing with these two cards is the interest. It's totally crippling. The Halifax card asks for a minimum payment this month of £88.45 but the interest to be charged (on outstanding balance of £3988) is £94.89. MBNA is even worse - you think you've paid a big whack on it then find it's really only half after the interest's added on. Sigh. We are both throwing our wages at the cards as a matter of urgency because the repayment of the personal guarantee has been set by the court so we don't worry so much about that, rightly or wrongly. At least there's no interest on that.

One thing I'm having a HEAP of trouble with is the food budget. I budget £200 a month for two adults (three at weekends) and a cat. In April I went up to £300 because Mr Charming was home all month and Red appeared for about 10 days. Oh and PC Furious came for the weekend of course but since he has a somewhat ascetic character I'm not counting him. Well, we have gone over the budget every month so far. I can't understand it because I meal plan and stick to it, and I only shop at Lidl. I shop about every 8-10 days and cook from scratch and we don't have loads of crappy crisps and sweets. I just don't know how other frugalistas seem to do it. I do know that Big Man wouldn't (and doesn't, when I try it) put up with some of the skittering little amounts of food, and more off-the-wall ideas for meals that some bloggers' partners go along with. He's as keen as I am to get rid of our debts but not if it means the quality or quantity of his food goes down. What's a gal to do? I suppose I'll just have to accept that food is never going to be a particularly low spend for us and economise in other ways.

Overall, how have we done since January 1? We've paid off......(drum roll).....£5434.09!!!! Our debts are now just over £40,000 from almost £46,000. Am I happy? You betcha! Can we sustain it? Watch this space!

Born To Be Queen!

Stunning girl. Stunning frock. Amazing spectacle. We really know how to pull the Big One off.

Photo from New York Magazine

Cook's Weekly

At a car boot sale last year I bought 50 copies of Cook's Weekly magazine for £2. They all date from the mid-80s and I wanted them because I remember reading Babcia's copies of this (and another magazine from the same era called 'Home and Freezer Digest' - anybody remember that?). I wrote yesterday about finding old stuff from my younger days comforting didn't I? And also I hoped I might find some frugal ideas and recipes between their pages, which I did.

I don't know whether it's something to do with the printing processes in the 80s but everything looks strangely garish and not particularly appetising (one way of being frugal I guess - nothing looks good enough to eat). And I don't remember there being such a reliance on offal either...Chinese-Style Liver anyone?

It's interesting to see how ideas that we take for granted nowadays were just starting to be mooted 25 years ago - there's an article in the December 86 issue that talks about sugar-free items and mentions that research suggests 'a hyperactive child will benefit from a diet low in sugar'. But in November 86 there was a section on cooking for a 'Difficult-People Dinner Party'. The 'difficult people' in question are vegans (who did you think it was going to be???!) and the suggested menu is Carrot and Bean Pate, Curried Vegetables and Ginger and Cashew Nut Ice Cream in case you're interested....
I was quite surprised to see an article on fillings for tacos because I wouldn't have thought Mexican food was all that common back then, certainly not in our neck of the woods anyway!

Each issue also has 'A Run Down The Aisles' which gives supermarkets' prices for various different items...I'm assuming these were current special offers. Co-Op was selling 500g plus 20% free Buitoni Short Spaghetti for 39p and Bird's Whisk and Serve Custard at 19p for 69g. I don't know about you but that's what I'd pay now for those items (though not those brands) in Asda or Lidl. The prices given for Tesco show a far bigger change over the years; for example Wall's Pork and Turkey Sausages were just 79p for 1lb plus 25% extra, whilst Tesco Golden Almond Marzipan was 97p for 500g. I think I paid more than double that for Sainsbury's own brand when I made my Simnel Cake a couple weeks back. And do you remember Fine Fare stores, and Bejam?

Despite some of the recipes being a bit odd (Avocado Mille-Feuille! Bacon-Stuffed Celery! Life's too short to stuff a mushroom so it's DEFINITELY too short to stuff a stick of celery!) these little magazines are packed with hints, tips and good ideas. I found out how to make Sloe Gin, how to boil a tongue, and how to skin a rabbit. For a good laugh there is the 'Memorable Meals' section where a famous person of the day describes their most memorable meal; what they like to cook and where they like to eat. Some I'd totally forgotten about (Debbie Greenwood? Mavis Nicholson?) but here's one famous face who is still around today...

Little did he know that his destiny was to one day be 'King of the Jungle'!!!

I Has New Pyrex!!!

For a long time I've been collecting Pyrex. At one stage you could make quite a bit of money from it on eBay but the bottom seems to have dropped out of the market a bit lately. Trends seem to come and go - for a while buyers paid a premium for Carnaby/Tempo pattern, then it was Chelsea. Chelsea still does okay - Autumn Gold/Autumn Glory had a flurry, but now it looks like June Rose and Cottage Rose are in the ascent. However, I don't go for any of those patterns. My favourites, as used by Babcia many years ago, are the Fruits/Vegetables/Fish variety. Not quite so commonplace but a bit funkier than the rest.

I bought this lovely oblong dish in a charity shop the other day. At £3.50 it was a bit more than I usually pay but I had to have it.

Look at that splendid lobster! This dish is about 10" by 7" I suppose and a good size for a Shepherd's Pie or stuff like that. The only problem is that I have one just the same, with lid, in June Rose....and I don't need two. So I'll be eBaying the Rose one when I stop procrastinating and start listing again. Soon, my darlings....soon.

Any other Pyrex fans out there? I also love Gooseberry and Clover and have some beautiful big mixing bowls in those designs. There is a pretty good website here if you have any unidentified Pyrex lurking in your cupboards. I'm not a collector as such but I like using cool old stuff plus it reminds me of growing up. That's good, right?

PS  Sad clown face tonight....Mr Charming is en route back to Cornwall and won't be home for five weeks. Only Big Man and Carb Addict left here now.

A Big Job Jobbed

Everybody seems to have had a lovely relaxing Easter and Bank Holiday but me.

I had to work on Friday, work on Monday and on Saturday I worked on the last leg of my big job. I spent three days counting and interviewing pedestrians on a desolate railway path with only William from Malawi for company. As I am (probably) old enough to be his mother we had very little to say to each other. Obviously I was the underling and I felt the force of his disapproval every time he and not I hopped along to ask an unwary passer-by whether they had time to 'answer a few questions about their journey'. Very few people passed our way during the 12 hours we spent by the shunting yard (yes, THREE LOTS of 12 hours!) and most of those that did were either speeding by on bikes; non-English speakers; drunk; or just plain nutty. Some fell into more than one category.

 Excited crowds flock to sample Keshling's interviewing technique!

Needless to say it was tear-inducingly tedious and for £78 a day I won't be doing it again in a hurry. It's all money in the bank, or rather off the credit cards though so it was worth doing I suppose.

One thing happened towards the late afternoon that made me feel a bit bad, and still does now just thinking about it. William and I had our bags by the metal uprights of the overpass and two youths came walking along - shirts off, very happy and singing, maybe a bit tipsy. I had been pacing up and down and wasn't near the bags, whilst William had managed to snare a pedestrian to quiz. As they neared our stuff I began to walk towards them - I'll admit it, I wasn't worried what happened to William's bag but mine had a copy of Portal 2 in it that I'd just spent £40 on for Mr Charming's birthday. One of the boys looked as if he was going towards our bags then he looked up and saw me strolling along in what I hoped was a casual manner. He said to his friend 'Look, she thinks we're gonna nick their bags!'. What could I say? I did think they were going to steal our bags. I just laughed and said 'Yep, you saw right through me!' They laughed too but I felt really bad afterwards, and still do now when I think about it.

Would I have acted that way had it been two silly girls walking along? I'm not sure, probably not....I wouldn't feel frightened to take a girl on if I had to. But it was quite deserted with no residential area nearby, in a pretty downbeat neighbourhood. I didn't feel particularly personally threatened by the boys, but you never know. I just think I judged them harshly and that I was wrong to do so. I wouldn't like to think that another middle-aged woman thought my Mr Charming was going to steal her bag - I know that he wouldn't confront her like the lad did me, but he would feel embarrassed and angry. 

Would anybody else feel like I did?

PS I've applied for 2012 tickets this evening. If I get them it'll cost £200, which I appreciate isn't very frugal. BUT! The Olympics probably won't be held in my own country again in my lifetime so I'd be a sad sack if I didn't at least try for some. That's my opinion anyway. BTW, I have some exciting news at the end of the week!!!

A Visit From The Met

We had a visitor last weekend, Red's latest love PC Furious. He is a PCSO with the Met and rather officious. On their first date there was a very strong smell of weed in the pub they were in and PC Furious was all for finding out who was smoking it then making a citizen's arrest. He's that type of chap. This was only his second visit here and last time he came he said as he was leaving 'thank you for letting me stay in your cold house'. Although I'd be the first to admit it is cold here I was quite put out...it was Winter after all and I'd made him sleep in the loft, what did he expect? Still he's harmless I suppose and Red has him right where she wants him so I'll reserve judgement a little longer.

In other news my family has shrunk to four because Red has returned to London, supposedly just until Sunday when Mr Charming is 19. I asked why she was going back at all, just for four days and she said 'because it's only £4'. Do you ever feel as if people are speaking a different language or one that makes no sense whatsoever to you? It's normally me that gets asked 'what are you talking about?'

Phase 1 of the census collecting has ended now and before Phase 2 starts on Thursday I have a totally guilt-free evening and day - no work at the Dragon's Den tomorrow! - so I am going to take full advantage by knitting and watching all the shows I've Sky+'d tonight and then chilling and doing a few small bits tomorrow. Babcia and I are still building up our stock for our Etsy shop but I hope to have it up and running soon. I'll post a pic of an item of our stock soon so you can all give me your opinions. But don't be too critical...I'm easily bruised. I bought some lovely wool for Babcia (she's 67 on Friday) so hopefully she'll get cracking on even more sweet things.

Off for a nice lazy night x

Being Ill vs 'Taking To Your Bed'

Quite often lately bloggers I follow have disappeared, only to return a couple of weeks later after being ill in some shape or form. I am lucky because I am rarely ill (touch wood!). I put this down to taking Vitamin C every day but to my family this is just one more manifestation of my 'being ridiculous'....'how sharper than a serpent's tooth' and all that. Although I have convinced Babcia to take a vitamin pill - she is, however, at the time of life where once again, everything I do is sensible, clever and excellent in every way.

So I am not often ill. That doesn't mean though that I never take to my bed. Oh no, 'taking to your bed' is a special tradition in my family. As a form of disapproval taking to your bed is second to none - my dad took to his bed for two days when I left home for real at 18. His father, my grandad, took to his bed for a week when his eldest daughter married an Italian. Other valid reasons for taking to your bed are: feeling sad; feeling hacked off; feeling angry; after an argument; and my favourite and most frequently used - 'just had enough'. It's not strictly necessary to sleep once you've taken to your bed but if asked what's the matter by a family member you must answer, with a sigh and a pained expression, 'nothing' - that's important....keep 'em guessing.

Yes, it's just an extreme 'time out' I suppose or a glorified sulk. A chance to think, maybe a chance to get over yourself. I'm not sure if it's an Irish thing (it's only my Irish side of the family that do it) or a paternal side of the family thing. Babcia rarely takes to her bed (and it's not always after half a bottle of Wybrowka when she does), but she does do it sometimes. Probably my dad's influence. Big Man doesn't take to his bed and had never come across 'taking to your bed' before he met me, but he appreciates the respite when I do it. And only today Red took to her bed when it was tortillas for dinner - slightly flimsy reason imho but it's a start. The tradition continues!

As a way of making you feel better I'd recommend it 100%. And you don't even have to be ill to start with!!

I've Got 1,2,3,4,5....Imagination Working Overtime

You know that I am taking part in the Great Census Collection at the moment and basically it's okay. The weather has been nice and the people I've met have been friendly and helpful. Overall I've enjoyed it a lot. Apart from the time I got frightened that I might end up being eaten with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
This Titanic city of ours is dirty and shabby but we have pride in it, even transplanted Northerners like me. I've mentioned before the malignant Northern city where I was born - it's like the Wild West - and what happened last night would have been par for the course there, but the Beautiful South? It's opened my eyes, I can say.

I've been lucky enough to get a nice area down by the river so I've had houseboats to call on and nice views - really glorious with the warm weather - but it also includes quite a lot of flats. I had to call at two flats within one block and rang both bells - no response. A family came along and let me into the block which is small and quite new. As I got to the first flat (the two I needed were next door to each other) I saw that the door had been kicked in and repaired. Oh-oh, thought I. I knocked on the door and there was immediately the sound of claws on the floor at the other side then something threw itself at the door with all its strength - all I could hear was growling and scratching. Obviously I stood to the side when this started, just in case the dog (werewolf? lion?) was able to get through. Just as well because the next thing I heard was a gun being racked (is that what it's called, when it goes, 'ker-crack'?) - a sound I recognised only too well from my CI5 days. A man called through the door 'who is it?' to which I tremulously replied 'I'm from the National Census...we don't seem to have a completed form from you'. All this time the Beast from Hell was throwing itself at the door. 'Oh right, Carol...come and sort the census out'. A woman came to the door and said, from the other side, 'Erm, yeah, I just rang them today for a new copy' (a likely story). I said that I could give her a new one right there and then. Silence. 'Oh....okay then'. So I pushed one, with difficulty, through the letter box. There was a lull in the panting, sniffing, whining and snarling whilst the animal the other side slavered and drooled over the census form. And probably tore it to shreds for fun. 'Thanks for your time' I said as I edged down the stairs. I think I might mark that as a 'Do Not Visit'....leave it for the census enforcers maybe.

The funny thing is though, I was alarmed and a bit taken aback but not really frightened. Of course I played it up when I got home but as the general consensus was that I was being ridiculous (they weren't even there! How would they know???) I've quietly let it drop. I know you'll all believe me, but where's Jodie Bodie when I really need her?

Daily Wail

I am starting to wonder why I read a newspaper at all, particularly why I read the Daily Mail. Have you noticed how 'I bet you read the Daily Mail' has become a left-wing insult in the past few years, or a way to describe anybody who doesn't find Frankie Boyle that funny?
There are still some things I like about it but a lot of things annoy me about it too; on the one hand fashion designers are castigated for not clothing 'real' (ie over size 14) women but lollipop-headed celebrities are held up for faux-pity if they appear to have put on a couple of pounds; there is an over-reliance on child-related sob-stories (ie my adopted children were so awful I handed them back/I've spent £0000's on IVF and now I can't get funded for any more/I love my son more than my daughter/'Why am I made to feel bad for not having any children?'...where are the 'my kids are great and I love them dearly' stories?); the Affordable Fashion spreads that are based around Monsoon, River Island and Coast. Don't they realise that for many readers affordable fashion begins and ends with Primark and New Look? Actually, reading that it looks like I'm annoyed by Femail rather than the Daily Mail so there might be a solution here...

One thing I scour every day is the Letters page, interested as I am in the emotional turmoil and general opinions of others. On Wednesday I didn't bother to suppress a snort of derision when I read a plaintive missive ('Loneliest Day') from a Miss Smith of Birmingham who writes;

Another Mother's Day has passed, but while families are spoiling their mothers and grandmothers, please spare a thought for those women who are not mothers or wives. I have many friends with children and grandchildren, but on Mother's Day they forget about me as they go off with their children for a Mother's Day lunch.

Thousands hate Christmas because they are on their own. I am never on my own at Christmas, but the one day in the year I really hate is Mother's Day.

My question is, is this a troll or a real person? Can anybody be that selfish and self-pitying as to want to deny mothers (who put up with more crap than any group of people in the world) one special day? Am I mean and out of step with the sisterhood? Or do you agree with Red, who commented with all the contempt a loved-up, beautiful, 21 year-old can muster "If that's how she feels she should have some ******* children!"

Walk-In Back To Happiness

On Sunday I became convinced that I had meningitis so I took myself to the local walk-in centre. For those who don't know what they are walk-in centres are a buffer between doctors' surgeries and the A&E department. They are usually open from early in the morning until may be 20:00 at night. At one stage there were four in this middling-sized city - the one nearest to us was very well-used but when we had the swine flu 'epidemic' it closed (supposedly temporarily due to staff shortages) and never opened again. Now the nearest one to me is based at the local psychiatric hospital. Hmmm.

When I arrived at about 7pm there were maybe six groups of people sitting around and I couldn't help noticing that a small child was the focus in perhaps three of these groups. The children were in their pyjamas, wrapped up warmly and looking very sleepy. The parents were chuntering...'if that stupid cow tries to tell me again that it's just a cold I'll swing for her' was one overheard example.
It got me wondering where the wise mums and grannies of yesteryear are now. I could hear mobile phone conversations...'she's really hot, she's just laid sleeping' and it occurred to me that an older female relative could have put these worried young people right. Their children were hot because the building is kept that way and they are wrapped in blankets. Their children are laid sleeping because it's past their bedtime. Children get days now and again when they're whiney and a bit under the weather - it's part of growing up.
But lots of young (and not so young) mothers and fathers don't have anyone sensible and experienced they can turn to. They don't have someone they can call on who will say 'don't worry, that's okay. Just see how they are tomorrow'. Or 'I'll pop over and have a look'. Why is that? I know that I rang Babcia often and described symptoms down the phone when Red in particular was small and I can't remember her ever saying 'get that child to the doctor's at once!' Nowadays we are all too ready to dash to the surgery or walk-in centre and expect medicine or whatever every time. And then we wonder why the NHS is in such a bad way.
Now I'm not a nurse and I do know that children can become very ill, very quickly and that we shouldn't take chances with them. What I suppose I'm trying to say is that it's a pity society nowadays doesn't have friendly neighbour ladies - older with common-sense who have brought their own children up and who can help young parents that might not have that kind of family help close by. I remember as a very small girl playing out in the street and there were always nosy old grannies sitting on their doorsteps yatting together, or sitting on a kitchen chair by their gate, just passing the time with anyone who passed by. That's the kind of thing I'm talking about, and isn't it a shame it's all gone?

Anyway, I didn't have meningitis as it happens; all small children were sent home with prescriptions for Calpol; and I overheard (see, nosy old woman in the making) this exchange between who I took to be a father, possibly late-50s and a bit disreputable looking, and a woman who looked to be his daughter, maybe late 20s. She was filling the form in for him and it asks what the reason for your visit is - I guess they'd reached this part because he said something, she asked him a question and I heard him say 'S-P-L-I-N-T-E-R'. I could understand someone having trouble with haemorrhoids or enphysema maybe, or schizophrenia but splinter? And we wonder why the UK is falling down the education league tables..