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Showing posts from January, 2007

Thank God for Common Sense

The staff were out in force at my local train station last Friday to catch fare dodgers. It's great, I think. Such people are making other passengers pay for their free rides. But it was rather inconvenient for me, and could have been worse, as I use the station as a short cut. When I need to walk to church some 25 minutes away, the station is a convenient short cut as I can keep to paths with low traffic and although I need to use lots of steps instead of walk up and over the railway bridge on the road, I prefer the cleaner air. I was asked for my ticket as I entered and I explained that I was only passing through the station. I was told I needed a pass or they would charge me when I exited the station. They gave me a pass and I was grateful and exited the station with no bother. It was a different story on the return journey. I was at the other entrance. I explained that I was only walking through the station. The guys refused to let me through. I said I had a pass a couple of ho

I forget

Wanted to say something about son's achievement at school yesterday in my other blog . But there was such a kafuffle getting onto the blog -- because Google decided to switch us bloggers all over to Beta whether we liked it or not, after which I couldn't log back on -- I've forgotten what I was doing to say. There must be a reason for 'Old Blogger', for bloggers who are old and short on memory power and who want life kept simple. Digital clocks are OK so long as the instructions on the display aren't so small I can't read them, for example. My son's clock-CD player-radio was broken and we bought him a new one. The writing is so small on the display and the buttons so minute for my fat fingers I find it very difficult to get it to do what I want. There's the trouble these days with young prime ministers, young politicians, young designers, they don't realize what life is like -- going to be like for them in years to come -- when life, vision and t

A Windy Day

Gales. I'm nervous. I have visions of objects falling on me. Our water feature in the garden has fallen over. The doors in a shed had blown open. I managed to secure them temporarily. Just heard the news about fifteen (15!!) lorries being blown over. Planned to take son to the dentist by bus, both for the experience of travelling by bus, and for green reasons. But roadworks meant there was zero chance of us getting to the dentist on time as I had hoped. So I had no choice but to take the car. Even then I expected fallen objects to cause delays. Well, typical of a post-rugby lesson Thursday afternoon, the boys were late in being released. Just managed to get to the dentist in time. Driving back, the car was acting strangely as it was buffetted by wind. So I am really pleased to be home, well and safe now. Back to Organic-Ally .

More selfish behaviour

I was at Marks for some fresh bread rolls. Woman beside me decided to forgo the tongs provided to pick up the bread and other goodies. She decided to use her fingers instead. That I didn't mind as she only picked out the buns she wanted. But instead of replacing the tongs -- putting them back in the holder provided -- she let them drop on its 'leash' so that they touched the floor. She wasn't even remotely apologetic. Immediately I alerted the staff working behind the counter about the situation. He cleaned the tongs immediately. Top marks to him. He even thanked me for bringing this to his notice. I think I spoke loudly enough for woman to realize that I did not approve of her behaviour. Back home and emptying my kitchen waste into the Council Brown Bin, dog-walker walked past and the dog decided to stop. There right in front of my house, just inside the boundary of our drive, the dog did a wee. I said to the dog-walker, "Thank you very much!" She had the aud

A failing mother? A story of selfishness

OK, I am not a perfect mother. But what would you do if you were at a nice restaurant/cafe and your 18-month-old is screaming for attention because she's been left in the pushchair too long while you have been reading your Sunday papers? Would you: (a) stop reading and give your daughter a cuddle? (b) give her a new toy to entertain herself? (c) say, "Wait! You have to wait another five minutes." While waiting for my son to finish his golf lessons, I sit in the cafe area of this restaurant and I cannot remember the number of times my quiet, supposedly relaxing afternoons have been ruined by this toddler who screams at the top of her shrill, sharp voice as toddlers are able to do. Mum does not care. Dad, if he's there, does not care. Every one else in the restaurant/cafe -- and we pay for food and drinks -- have to endure her screaming. Today Mum was heard to say several times, "No, you're not getting out (of the pushchair) yet," and "No, you have to

An invite ... to make an outpatient appointment!!!

I recently got back in touch with a school friend. I remember us fondly as -- amongst other memories -- wearers of tooth-braces. It was like a badge of honour back then. I had my regular visits with the orthodontist and was told after each visit when I should next visit. Then I'd go to the nurse with her big diary and she'd flip the pages to four weeks or six months after and we'd fix an appointment, making sure that it did not clash with a band practice. She would write the date and time on my appointment card and I went home to note that date on my own calendar, diary, whatever. If, for whatever reason, I could not make the appointment, I rang to say, "Please could you re-schedule?" That way my slot was freed up for other people (especially emergencies) and I could rest assured that nobody's time was being wasted. Today my husband received a letter "An Invitation to make an Outpatient Appointment in --- Department" it said. My husband has a chronic

Whose rubbish is it anyway?

I was measuring out washing powder to put into the washing machine and I thought: why on earth do manufacturers have to package some washing powder or liquids into tablets or gel sachets, every one of which is encased in some form of pl-st-c? The answer seems to be: because we are either too lazy to measure out the right amounts of washing powder/liquid, or too stupid to do so. I remember washing powder as my mum used it came in big cardboard boxes. In fact everything came packaged in cardboard boxes of different weights. She would measure out the amount of powder she needed for each wash. If those boxes were put into landfills, they biodegraded in due course. Or if they were incinerated (which is more likely the case in Singapore), it just broke down into ashes. It is interesting to read: Me pay? I didn’t ask to be buried in bubble wrap by Martin Samuel in The Times . Basically he is saying: why should I be paying to dispose the rubbish I did not ask for? "We did not ask for gre

Beauty of reusable whatever

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1st April 2016 Update: We do not stock Hankettes Cosmetic Squares any more, but have made-in-UK ones here . ===== The customer is always right. So give them what they want, not what the shopowner wants. Because I do not use make-up now, I didn't even think of selling the washable reusable cosmetic pads on the Organic-Ally business site. When I took the risk and imported my first batch, I was pleasantly surprised to find these quickly becoming very popular. So it was a bit of a shock when I received an email from a prospective customer who told me that she liked the idea but does not like the pl-st-c packaging. Immediately I had a quick pow-wow with my supplier and we now have the same soft reusable cosmetic pads packaged in an organic cotton gauze bag. The bag with a twine tie doubles as a 'wash bag', to stop these pads being lost in the washing machine. We are proud to present reusable washable organic cotton cosmetic pads in new packaging . Whatever hel

New Year Scramble

Usually we host a lunch at Christmas and New Year. The Christmas crowd consists mainly of people who are either new to the country or just visiting, those who live on their own, or one or two who have no where else to go at Christmas. Since we were away for Christmas, it was only New Year lunch this time. Our usual 'select' crowd gathered, mainly friends whom we've known for a long time and family who live further afield. We had a lovely time. Food was OK but simple. Company was fine. Son was not as anti-social as he often is. In fact, after the Christmas pudding (which apparently was generously laced with cognac) he was definitely on a high. I do not usually like Christmas pudding, by the way. But we managed to get our hands on an organic version, packed "in an earthenware basin with cloth" and it was delicious. Unlike other Christmas puds I've tasted, this was very light in texture. We were also impressed that there was not a bit of pl-st-c packaging in sigh