Pulsing

So the Paralympics have begun.  I have to say that so far I am not very impressed with the Channel 4 coverage.  They spend so much time talking in the studio that they aren't showing half the swimming races.  A Brit broke the world record.  The studio team told us he had and then afew minutes later they showed the race.  I feel they'd already rather given away the ending...

They have also shown some cycling and there was something wrong with the sound balance.  When the commentator was talking during the race it made the roar of the crowd "pulse", which actually made my ear hurt!

And that programme that was in pre-9.30am was embarassingly toe-curling.  That bloke who was one of the presenters was awful (I think he might normally present T4).

I would like to comment more on the sport, but they aren't showing very much of it.  Come on Channel 4.  You can do better than this.  Show us more of the sport (and sort out your sound in the cycling)!

On a more amusing note, you might well have heard the tale of the Spanish lady who recently carried out a rather unfortunate restoration of a painting of Jesus.  Well, now you can do your own.  You know you want to...

Greatness

Before the Olympics started, whilst I was fairly positive about it, I was not that enthusiastic about it – two weeks of sport was not my ideal. Two weeks on, my view is rather changed. I really loved the Olympics.

I went to three events in the Olympic Park – Team GB women’s team playing hockey, a handball semi-final and the final night of athletics in the Olympic Stadium –so Mo Farrah winning the 5000 metres, the women’s 4 x 400 metres (poor Team GB, a bad first leg and the others with too much left to do) and the men’s 4x100 metres with the likes of Usain Bolt, amongst other things. A great night. The atmosphere in the Olympic Park was brilliant. Everyone was so friendly and it was great to be part of it.

I also got to go to the Team GB VIP lounge and met a few athletes, but had to leave to go and see the handball so missed out on meeting the team GB rowing team - and as Katherine Grainger winning Gold was the best moment of the Games for me, that would have been great. It was a privilege to be there nonetheless. A great Olympics. Roll on the Olympic Victory Parade on 10 September.

Enthusiasm

It was my birthday yesterday (Tuesday). I have been working lots recently and it, coincidentally, was my first day off after seven days of working. Worse shifts are to come. It's fine though. Honest. Anyway, you might have noticed that the Olympics are in Town. I thought I would share some Olympic enthusiasm.

Back Again

It’s been a while. Not for any particular reason. Life has just been getting in the way. I am working strange (although not necessarily unpleasant hours). For instance, I am working this weekend, but don’t start until post-lunch, and I had today off and will have Monday off too. I’ve also been looking into training to be a solicitor. Very tempting, but would involve a lot of money and time. I wouldn’t start it this year anyway, so there is time to consider my options. I had a job interview on Wednesday. Whilst I thought some parts of it went well, I thought I was lacking direction in other parts. I would be surprised if I get it, but we shall see. There have been some amusing and interesting things going on, but I am not feeling inspired right now. I shall endeavour to bring some delight to the world of blogging in due course.

Timely

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Steve Jobs

Time is free, but it's priceless

I am working really odd hours for the next few months and as part of that it means that I will be working a lot of weekends, but with days off during the week.  My concern is that when I am off during the week I will just waste away the day at home and will have done nothing expect watch day time television.  So I have arranged lots of things to do (although I have realised that I need to be careful that I don’t wear myself out by doing too much.  Some days I start work at 7am…).

I was off work today but didn’t get to sleep in.  The freeholder texted gone 9pm yesterday to say that some trial holes would be made today to check on the subsidence.  What she failed to mention in the text was that they would arrive at 7.15am and wake me up by parking outside my bedroom window and then start drilling at 8.30am – having got another neighbour out of bed to move his car.  I sent the freeholder a somewhat terse text to tell her that she needed to provide much more notice and much more detail in future, and that as I have to get up at 5.30am tomorrow (yes!  On a Saturday!  And a Sunday!), I am sure I would feel my lack of sleep from today.  I told her in January, and then reminded her in April, that I would be working unusual hours and specifically asked for a schedule of works so that I could plan accordingly.  Oh, how pleased I am that today or tomorrow she will be served with a notice telling her we are taking over the management of the property.  Perfect timing.

Anyway, back to doing things with my days off…  Today I met up with a school friend.  We first met at the tender age of 11 years old on the very first day of high school.  Today I met her off her train at King’s Cross, and while I was waiting for her train to arrive bumped into someone I used to work with.  I am having lunch with her in a couple of weeks so tried not to summarise too much of my life in the five minutes we spent chatting in case we had nothing to talk about over lunch.  Somehow I think we’ll think of something to talk about though…

Yesterday I did some volunteering with The Conservation Volunteers.  I’ve never done anything like that before, but it was really good.  Being a newbie made no difference to what they were willing to let me do.  I ended up wading for a couple of hours in a lake clearing blanket weed.  They provided the waders and explained what to do if I fell over in the water, in order to make sure that I didn’t drown – helpful!  Anyway, if you are at a loose end, I’d really recommend giving them a go.  I know someone else who volunteers with them and thinks they are great.  They are all over the country, so you don’t have to be London based.

Next week, I am out for dinner a couple of times with friends, I am going to find out more about training to be a solicitor (a possible career change, although I am now wondering about doing something similar that doesn’t involve four years of part time study etc etc), going to a house auction (purely to see what it is like, if I end up buying somewhere, something has gone seriously wrong!), and other such things.

Do Some Good Today

Today I received an e-mail from my local councillor passing on an e-mail from a constituent.  The constituent’s e-mail referred to the Home Office consultation that is currently taking place on same sex marriage.  It said that they didn’t think it had much publicity and encouraged people, particularly those who had strong views against same sex marriage, to respond to the consultation.  It gave some quote that it appeared to attribute to the local MP encouraging people to object to the proposals.  My councillor encouraged us to circulate the e-mail to those in our e-mail contact lists.

I was so angry to get that e-mail.  I sat and fumed and tried to decide what to do.  I passed a copy to my MP and asked if that was indeed a quite from him and asked what his views are on the proposals.  I also wrote back to my local councillor and told him that I was very offended to be sent such an e-mail and the consultation sought views from all, not just those who held strong views.  I said that I hoped we lived in a society that did not discriminate based on race, gender, disability, sexuality or other irrelevant factor, and that whilst I understood that some, including religious groups had concerns, the consultation explicitly explained that it excluded such proposals as same sex marriages being allowed on religious premises.  No same sex marriage will be allowed on religious premises, even if that religious group would like to be able to conduct such a ceremony.

The councillor wrote back and apologised.  Although I am not 100% clear on whether he was sorry he had offended me or whether he was sorry for the content of the message.

In an attempt to undo some of the harm done by my councillor circulating that e-mail, let me encourage you to respond to the consultation.

It is not acceptable to discriminate against someone based on their sexuality.  It would not be acceptable if you substituted “race” for “sexuality”.  We live in a society that should be about fairness and equality.  Please support the government’s proposals - words that I never thought I would say given our current government!

Alarming

I imagine most people have at one time or another experienced that "Sunday night feeling".  I can now with some certainty state that Sunday nights are made much worse by the burglar alarm going off six times during the night - 10.20pm, 3am, 4.50am, 4.55am, 7.15am x 2.

The sound of the alarm is now like a form of tinnitus in my ears constantly reminding me how tired I am - and yet also surprised that none of my presumably very tired neighbours have been banging on my door.  Perhaps I should set the alarm.

Borders

We went to Scotland with my sister and nephew for a week over Easter. We stayed in a really nice cottage in the Scottish Borders, which was on a sheep farm. We were woken up one day by sheep and lambs loudly bleating due to an overnight downfall of snow.

We had a really good time (and the snow didn’t hang about) and explored the Borders, walked by the sea, ate waaaaaaaaay too much food and generally enjoyed ourselves. We also spent some time in Edinburgh, and it must be the third or fourth time I have been there and I still don’t “get it” as a city. I just can’t seem to connect with it or feel that I really know what Edinburgh is about. Most places we go, whether big or small I feel as though I have somehow got a sense of what that place is like. For example, while we were in the Borders we were staying near Lauder and got a sense of what that village is like by spending some time walking around the local area, stopping for coffee, visiting the local butcher’s shop and so on. But Edinburgh continues to evade me, and I say that as a Londoner. G, a Scot, is obviously horrified by this and says we need to go back soon to redress this.

Since we’ve got back, work has been really hectic and I am counting down to use going to Porto in a couple of weeks’ time. I also have developed a pain in my shoulder for some unknown reason. I really am not suited to a working life.

Clots

I can’t wait to be off for Easter. Not a moment too soon. Mum has been doing pretty well since her operation, although she was really tired. But last Friday night she phoned to say she was going to A&E because she thought she had a blood clot. We went and met her at A&E and over three hours later we were able to all go home with a probable diagnosis of blood clots and a commitment from G to administer mum’s injections to thin her blood.

The next morning, mum phoned to say that the pain had got much worse and she needed to go back to hospital because the pain had got much worse overnight. So we went back to the hospital and they carried out lots of tests. After several hours, mum was officially diagnosed with blood clots and they also found a shadow on her lung. For a while it looked like mum would have to stay in hospital, but in the end they decided she could go home. G had to continue administering the injections until other medication kicked in. Mum went back to the hospital on Monday and she was then diagnosed with pneumonia, which is what the shadow was on her lung.

Mum’s operation a few weeks ago went remarkably well, and when they did the biopsy they found more cancer, which shows that it was the right decision to have the mastectomy. But the complications of late have been more trying for mum (not that the operation or recovery was a pleasant experience for mum). Fortunately, mum is a very positive person and has been very resilient to all of these developments. She still retained enough presence of my mind that when the leaflet turned up from the local Baptist about Easter services (yes, *that* local Baptist church) she tore it up and threw it in the bin.

Reading Pleasures

I have been watching the BBC series “My Life in Books”, which finished last night. I managed to miss the first few programmes, but I am so glad I didn’t miss the last one. It was Rick Stein and Fiona Shaw, and they were both such interesting guests. I watched the programme on my own and then watched it again with G, and we spent a bit of time talking about it after that.

Maybe you won’t share my enthusiasm, but it comes highly recommended (and you only have six more days to catch it on the BBC iPlayer here).

I think Fiona Shaw would make a fantastic dinner guest or be great to have a chat with over a cup of coffee. Rick Stein could prepare the food!

Operations

My mum had major surgery yesterday. She had a mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. The operation took ten hours. We took mum to the hospital on Monday night, and felt quite bad about leaving her there. Then we went back last night and were there when they brought her back from surgery. She looked much better than I had expected, but had lots of tubes coming out of her.

I then went back to the hospital after work today and mum seemed ok. They removed some of the tubes while I was there, which was clearly very painful for mum, but definite progress. We’re hoping that she will be released on Saturday.

It will be really good when mum gets to come home.

Doubts

There is a quote from Shakespeare that says “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt”. Those words have been at the back of my mind of late when it comes to exercising the Right to Manage where we live. I had shied away from pursuing this course of action as I wasn’t sure what the other leaseholders would think. Although my head said it was the right thing to do, I didn’t know if others would agree and the reasons piled on one after the other about why not to explore this further. Those doubts held me back from even trying.

But then, what with the freeholder being so rude and unreasonable of late, I wrote myself a note, and pinned it to my noticeboard, that said “I will exercise my right to manage”. Each time the doubts crept in, I looked at the note and focussed my mind. As it turns out, the other leaseholders really want to pursue it and they came up with their documents and paid their money very promptly, each of them seemingly not wanting to be the one to let the others down. Over the last few days on a few occasions it has washed over me again that we will probably soon be free of being bullied by our freeholder and instead will be in control of our own homes and money. Our doubts are traitors indeed.

Age is all in the mind

I have realised that my boss and someone I work with who is the same grade as me are both about seven years younger than me. I think that is s sign that you don't realise that you are getting older and still believe you are much younger than you actually are.

My grandad used to took about some "old boy" or other that he had seen, but the person was probably 20 years or more younger than him. Admittedly I am considerably younger than my grandad was when he made such comments, but I feel it is a slippery slope. Maybe I don't really want to have an accurate view of getting older though.

Here at last

It’s been a while. Not due to anything in particular. It’s just been busy at work and I have been arguing with my freeholder about various things.

I have done nice things though. We went to the Pizza Express Jazz Café and saw Eddi Reader, which was really good. We saw Noises Off at the theatre on Friday night, which was excellent. We’ve caught up with various people and have been trying to make sure we do nice things at the weekend.

I am even more frustrated that we cannot buy a house any time soon. The freeholder has gone into overdrive in terms of trying to push us about. She has refused to pay for the repair to damage in my flat caused by her builders – ultimately she has said I will get some money for it but through a convoluted route, and got as many digs in as possible as part of that. She basically told me I was wasting people’s time and that was the only reason I would get any money. I haven’t actually got the money as yet though.

She also accused me of deliberately misunderstanding something she had written and various other charming accusations. Except, I hadn’t made any comment on the thing subject she was accusing me about. Really bizarre.

She told me I needed to pay for some protective measures for the chimney because I was responsible for some damage to it. The professionally qualified gas engineer who came and assessed it for me totally disagreed with her view and basically said she had no idea what she was talking about.

She won’t provide me with any evidence that a claim has been made on the insurance about a separate matter, but requires me to pay several hundred pounds to cover the excess.

We already know that she might well try and double the maintenance charges later in the year.

I have spoken to a solicitor and my neighbours and we are going to try and oust the freeholder because she has just become some unreasonable.

Confrontations

We had a really nice day today. We spent most of it with my mum and this included going out for lunch with her at the South Bank and then listening to some choirs performing at the Royal Festival Hall.

Before we set off for that, we had gone to a craft fair near where my parents live. When we were walking home from that along a residential main road, there were two boys walking along the opposite pavement and I saw one of them throw something at a parked car that was on the same side of the road as us. The car alarm went off, and I then walked forward a couple of steps and realised they had smashed the car window.

I turned to them and shouted at them across the road that they had just smashed the window. I was so angry at the action of the boy who had thrown the object at the car (the other boy looked rather more sheepish). He just put the hood up on his top and tried to look all macho. The other boy just said it wasn’t him who had done it. I continued to shout at them and tell them how unacceptable their behaviour was and that I was going to call the police.

They decided to saunter off into the local park and seemed somewhat surprised that I followed them (and probably I shouldn’t have, but I was very cross!). They turned round a couple of times to see if I was still behind them and shouted a bit of abuse at me. I did by this point know that G was on the phone to the police, and was a bit of a distance behind me but within sight. I continued to head towards the boys, who had stopped in the middle of the park, and when they realised I wasn’t going to back down, they made a run for it.

I went after them, but at walking pace (I didn’t actually want to catch up with them as I didn’t know what they might do). They had disappeared by the time I got out the other side of the park. I briefly looked about for them but they were nowhere to be seen. So I headed back to the car they had damaged and by that time the owner had actually arrived and my mum had already spoken to her and explained what happened. I spent a few minutes talking to the woman and gave her my details. The police had also been by that point and had gone in search of the boys. The police phoned me a while later, which made me think they hadn’t actually found them. The police officer was really nice and thanked me for what I had done.

It was probably unwise to have confronted them and then to have gone after them, but I was just so angry that they could have done something so mindless. I just knew that I couldn’t be the one to back down because that would have sent the message that trying to be a bit macho meant that they could damage people’s property and intimidate people. I would have been really angry with myself if I had just let them get away with it. I also didn’t want the owner to come back to the car and find the window smashed and have no idea what had happened. That said, I don’t know what I would have done if they had turned on me...

Resigned

I decided that the best course of action was to resign my church membership. I wrote to the assistant minister and just said I didn’t want to be a topic of discussion or subject to a vote by the membership and said to take the letter as my resignation. I offered no explanation, but I guess I will hear back and will have to decide what to then.

I had to be at work for 8am today, which I guess by some people’s standards was not that early. Tomorrow I have to be in at 6.30am, which is a slight challenge given that my first train doesn’t run early enough to get me there for that time. At least I get to finish at 3pm both days.

The builders have caused yet more problems. They put “protective measures” in my fireplace while they were doing repairs to the chimney on the roof. While they were removing the measures they damaged the fire. I wasn’t there at the time, so I phoned the freeholder’s husband when I got home and he arranged for the builder to come out the next day to look at it. As expected, the builder denied there was any damage, despite us all being there looking at it. Fortunately the freeholder’s husband was there and he said it was damaged so the builder went along with this. I have now arranged for a firm to come out and repair it. The builders will be paying for it. I had a discussion over several months with the freeholder and her husband about why I didn’t want these builders to do the work, but they insisted it would all be fine. The builders have done various bits of damage and each time have denied it. I have written to the freeholder outlining all of my concerns and saying again that I would prefer them not to use these builders in future. We’ll see if it makes any difference.

It would be nice if life was a bit simpler, but at least I am on leave for Christmas from the end of next week.

Revelations

This blog currently seems to be an account of unfortunate circumstances in my life. Despite what these brief updates might suggest, I am actually fairly chipper. I don’t tend to add up the sum the of things going on in my life and wonder “why me?”. These things are all just part of life.

There is something else to add to the list though. In case this has not been clear to you, my partner is female. Not such a revelation you might think, and for most people it isn’t. But for one part of British life it is, the church – more particularly the evangelical church, which in my case is the Baptist church. The evangelical church has very specific views on same sex relationships. Since my teenage years I have been to church, and have been a church member i.e. on the formal membership roll, for about twenty years. But that is soon to change.

I don’t go to church very often, but I went today because I was on the bookstall rota. I stay on the rota because it gives me a reason to go to church or else my attendance would probably diminish to nothing. The person who oversees the bookstall is the mum of a friend of mine. She asked if I could go over for a cup of tea this afternoon. I asked if everything was ok and she said “I saw the card you sent [her son].” “Oh” I replied.

Let’s rewind back a week or so. My friend and his wife had a baby. I sent a congratulations card, which was signed by both me and G. My friend’s mum read all the cards that had been sent and then began to wonder about the card sent from me. She asked more about it and realised that all was not as she had thought.

When she returned to London from seeing her new grandchlld, my friend’s mum spoke to one of the ministers and the pastoral assistant at church about what she had found out. The conclusion was not good, hence her conversation with me.

She was really lovely when she spoke to me. I know her very well. I even lived with her and her husband for a year. But none of those things took away the bitter pill that she delivered. My role in the church is under review. It is very likely that I will no longer to be able to cover on the bookstall. I will also probably be required to resign my church membership – and if I don’t resign it myself they will probably withdraw it anyway. If they remove your church membership, they do this at a church meeting and explain the reasons for it to all the church members. At least if you instigate the resignation yourself they don’t explain the circumstances, unless you have asked them to do so.

I listened to what she said and explained that this was exactly why I had never said anything. I knew the theology of it all and “get” how the evangelical church views such things, but I said that ultimately it was all very personal and it was rejection – which was what I found so hard about it.

She said she’d never seen me cry before. She said that I would still be able to attend the church, but wouldn’t be allowed to have any responsibilities (that means nothing, not even handing out a notice sheet, and certainly not working on the bookstall where I could be peddling immorality) and would not be allowed to be a member. (I know that I also wouldn’t be allowed to take communion.) I said that I wouldn’t be attending any more in those circumstances because the church would have rejected me and ultimately would be telling me that I’m not good enough. She said that it wasn’t about being “good enough”. But it is really.

I guess some might wonder why I even care. Over the years, some people at that church have shown me great kindness. I wanted to keep going there because it felt so final to stop, as though something that had been so significant in my life was finally over. In times when I had greater faith than I do now, it was a great place to be and I made some good friends there. I also care because it hurts to be rejected.

I sent my friend a text to tell him what had happened. He phoned me straightaway. He was totally shocked and was really angry with his mum and appalled that she had told other people my private business. He had no idea she was going to do that and I had to talk him down from phoning his mum and having a big go at her. He says he is still really angry about it, but was going to take a bit of time to decide what to say. He lost his faith many years ago and this just impressed on him how little he misses that part of his life.

It hasn’t been the best day.

Trouble at Mill

We have been following a regime to try and declutter and tidy the place up to sell it. So far this has only involved clearing out two large cupboards. They look very nice though.

The house moving plan has ground to a screeching halt. The freeholder wrote to each of the leaseholders just over a week ago to say that suspected subsidence has been found in one of the flats they own. What was hairline cracks, shortly afterwards was joined by large cracks down the external wall of their flat. They called out a structural engineer and have now referred his report, which it seems was not good news, to the insurance company.

To begin with I was not that fussed by it. There is no subsidence in my flat and I was thinking that it was inconvenient, and as we have to pay the excess, yet more money that needed to be paid out. But then my brain began to whirr and I started to look into a bit. I contacted my financial advisor who said that all the flats will, ultimately, be tarred with the same brush and there would be no way to get out of declaring subsidence, particularly as the freeholder will be asked as part of the sale of my flat (not that I want to mislead. It is that the subsidence isn’t in my flat).

Then I looked at the possible consequences of subsidence:
-Underpinning. If that has to be done, you have to move out, sometimes for up to six months.
-Monitoring. No action taken for months and months. An uncertainty that I would think any potential purchaser would be totally scared off by.
-Holes being dug. To try and identify the source of the subsidence.

Unless, by some miracle, the insurance company concludes that it is not subsidence, there is no way that I can sell the flat at the moment. When I do finally come to sell, it might be difficult to find a buyer, or one that is willing to buy at a decent price. Fortunately, I have quite a bit of equity in my flat, but I think this could potentially put some of my neighbours into negative equity.

I go in phases of feeling a bit miserable about this, and then I feel ok again. I have various short term and long term plans for what to do and am doing my research to try and minimise any collateral damage. But for now the future in unknown in terms of if and when we will be able to move house. Particularly as we are reliant on the freeholder pushing things, but who does not have a great reputation for being efficient.

Oh and I tried to phone my solicitor about this, but his website has disappeared and his phone seems to go through to a very residential sounding answer phone. So I am now wondering if he has shut up shop. I then thought I would contact the solicitor who did the conveyancing for me when I bought the flat. It turns out he has been struck off, or at least had his license suspended.

Miles

The news was mixed when mum went to the hospital. They had removed all the cancer during the surgery, but there was an "instability", which means that they have recommended that she has a mastectomy. Understandably, mum is not thrilled by this prospect. She seems to be in a phase where she is trying to find a source of information that suggests a mastectomy is not the only course of action, so that she at least feels like she has a choice - even though she will then choose to have the mastectomy. I went to the hospital with mum on Tuesday and we looked at photos post reconstructive surgery etc and that was helpful. Mum is still taking time to make up her mind though.

G and I went away on Thursday for the weekend. We decided to walk 20 miles along the canal from Bath to Caen Hill Locks in Devizes. We did this over two days, and my sister joined us for the second day. She was meant to be there for both days, but couldn't get the time off from work.

We had a really good time, and the walk was enjoyable, despite torrential rain on Friday afternoon that even my waterproof coat and waterproof trousers could not withstand, and blisters bursting on one of my feet as I started the very gentle gradient at Caen Hill Locks. A very satisfying thing to do with a weekend though. We are now thinking about attempting a thirty mile walk (over three days) along the canal from Birmingham to Worcestor. I like walking long distances, but without having to deal with going up and down hills and so forth. Canal walks are the ideal solution. We did, however, struggle to find the car at the end of the walk. We had dropped my sister's car off in the morning and then driven back to the start of the walk. We hadn't checked exactly where the canal was in relation to the car park, and so trying to find the car as the sun was rapidly going down was not the kind of challenge we needed having walked 10 miles to get there. We made it though, and did finally find the car.