Posts

Who messed up my washing?

Or boys who know their recycling As I wrote to my customers in our occasional newsletter: "For the first time in a while I had a load of washing plastered in shredded paper. My son quickly owned up. Well, it was his seventh birthday and we had taken him and his best friend to a theme park. Every time they were given something to eat and drink they examined the containers to look for the 'recyclable' sign. "They are studying recycling in their Science topic this term. These little boys can now tell me, 'It says PET and a number one, so it can be recycled.' Not bad. They kept collecting containers to take to the school for their sorting exercise. At some point, son decided to keep the 'recyclable' serviette that was wrapped round his ice-cream cone. "It was my fault really for not checking those pockets." The truth is I take for granted that only cloth hankies are used in this house that I've become quite lax (is that the right word) in che

Live without plastic bags? Here's how it can be done

This is my letter published in the Singapore Straits Times Forum page on 28th April 2007. 'Rubbish chutes' are hollow columns in high-rise flats in Singapore. Each flat has a 'flap-door' in the kitchen wall through which rubbish is disposed. The rubbish falls through these columns/chutes into a bin at ground level and these bins are emptied (usually by foreign workers) every morning. With the advent of plastic bags in the 1970s, Singaporeans have been asked to put their rubbish in plastic bags to reduce the amount of cleaning required in these chutes. Live without plastic bags? Here's how it can be done FROM some letters on the use of plastic bags, it appears that some Singaporeans think the world would end if they didn't get their 'free' plastic bags. And we take our rubbish chutes for granted. Here, in the United Kingdom, where we pay more than £2,000 (S$6,060) in annual council tax (for refuse disposal, etc), I have to sort rubbish into three differe

To stay or not to stay -- at home

It's the long-ish Easter break and of course there was no time to blog. But I do know that lots of working mothers have taken advantage of the long Easter weekend to go away with the family. Those who have not been able to take time off, well, their children have been organized to go to Easter camps. Me? I had son about, "Please may I play PSP?" every five minutes or so. He knows the answer is "no, unless ...." but he still tries. Then I have orders to fill, new exciting products to be launched (hopefully), etc. But that is another story. Recent news reports started me thinking -- again -- about the 'to stay or not to stay at home' question. First, an economist EQ in Singapore tried to analyze the cost of mothers staying at home. I found most of his arguments as holey as fishnet tights. But they wouldn't publish my response to his "essay". Then Leslie Bennetts in The Times noted that should a mother decide to stay at home and then face the

Blast from the past

Out of the blue a former classmate emailed to say my year group at secondary school has started an online group, please join. So I dutifully did. First I read the posts and was tickled pink by several posts. Us 'old girls' have a great sense of humour indeed. Nostalgia struck as some of us recalled happy and less-than-happy events, but boy! it makes me feel old. But the good thing about the year group is, of course, everyone knows exactly how old you are, and there is no need to pretend to be anything else. It was the Singlish that surprised me. We were in the 'premier school' in Singapore. We were taught to speak 'proper'. And now this bunch of old girls -- 'housewives', teachers, doctors, accountants, etc. -- are speaking/writing a language that we were not allowed to speak. I'm sure these old girls don't speak to their children and business associates like this either. How interesting is that? So I have already been chastised for writing too &

Happy Mother's Day ... ?

Husband took us to a nice pub for lunch on the Saturday before Mother's Day. He knew we wouldn't be able to get a booking any where for Mother's Day itself. To be honest, I wouldn't like to be stuck at a restaurant on Mother's Day at all. Old couple sat next to us. Old man dropped something under the table. Old wife went, 'O! I guess I would have to crawl underneath there to get it for you.' I wondered if I should have offered to help, but had no idea what he was looking for. (It turned out to be something to do with his diabetes testing equipment, I think.) Finally their family arrived. A daughter came in, 'Happy Mother's Day!' and she never seemed to make eye contact with her mum again. I thought that was a bit odd. Daughter recounted how many awards a son had been given since the last time they spoke. A few of them then disappeared to order their food. Meanwhile Mum was left with daughter's young daughter. And to my horror, Granny made gra

China awakening

It was good news to wake up to on Monday morning: Today's presenter asked if China was really going green following Prime Minister Wen Jia Bao's pronouncements at the opening of the Chinese parliament. (I didn't actually hear that report as I then had to get on with getting a child off to school.) Critics have often argued: why bother to do anything to 'save' the environment when China and USA do not come aboard? Well, here is a glimmer of hope that something is being done, or will be done, in China. We now await the US to get out of their slumber. The environment issue is a zero-sum game. Something has to give at some time. Resources are limited. It takes a brave politician to go against the tide to say "enough is enough". Sustainaable development requires us to stop plundering and poisoning the earth as we are doing now. Back to Organic-Ally .

Noise

I recently wrote this in my occasional newsletter to Organic-Ally customers: “I write this as my son is being taken to the cinema by another parent at school. Since he first went to the cinema as a three-year-old (as a birthday treat for a five-year-old friend) son has refused to return to the cinema because he finds the sound simply too loud. He only agreed to go today because we sent him off with some cotton wool to stuff into his ears. I wonder if you, too, think that cinemas have become too loud for the good of young children (and even adults) these days. I once researched 'noise tolerance and social classes' and learned that extended exposure to loud noise can lead to noise-induced hearing loss (NIHL). An audiologist I met in Australia said she would NEVER use a 'personal stereo' type of gadget. Part of me also thinks that noise and violence go together. Excessive noise raises certain chemicals in our body which in turn raise our blood pressure, apparently. Tell m

Not so slow boat from China

Husband alerted me to this article by Michael Sheridan on Timesonline . It quantifies what we have known for a long time. To China for the holy grail: a price of 99p I particularly like the comment by Russell Brocklehurst which follows the article. The point is: do we need to buy all those things that are being hawked at 'cheap' shops, websites and auction sites? Who pays the price of the poor health which the young factory girls suffer in return for the pittance they are paid so that we can have our trinkets? We must begin to retreat from living in this disposable world before these non-biodegradable 'disposables' bury us ... literally. Back to Organic-Ally .

Olivers -- here's my twist

Oliver James calls for an effort to "raise the status of the parental role" because presently "being a stay-at-home mother has a lower one than that of streetsweeper". OJ is right in that stay-at-home mothers (SAHMs) have a very low status and possibly even lower self-esteem. And, following from previous post , this is part of the reason middle-class familes are disintegrating. His 'affluenza virus' theory applies most to this class of people, I think. Middle-class families are falling apart because the desire for material goods means that couples often lock themselves into a financial bind which requires both of them to work full-time. A stay-at-home parent (even part-time) is no more an option. Or couples believe that they are so well-trained and well-educated that it will be a real pity should either leave their profession or career (but less so 'job') to concentrate on child-rearing. So childcare is farmed out as much as is possible. Children gr

Olivers

First there was Jamie Oliver (JO) telling us about what to feed our children -- good on him -- and now Oliver James (OJ) tells us what my husband and I have believed in for a long time: children should be looked after by their own parents. OJ coined the term "affluenza virus" which causes victims to place "a high value on money, possessions, appearances (physical and social) and fame" (see Times article here ). He puts this down to the legacy of both Thatcherism and "Blatcherism" (never heard that one before, does he really deserve an 'ism'?) Is there anything new in what OJ is saying? Listen to the writer in Ecclesiastes: there is nothing new under the sun. Or to borrow another cliche: the writing's on the wall. It would seem logical -- to me as a social scientist any way -- that excessive consumerism (that was what we used to call it) would lead inevitably to the type of symptoms now so obvious and making OJ's thesis so credible. Back in

Another scan

This morning found me trudging off to the hospital again, this time having drunk nearly two pints of water. I couldn't get through the whole two pints. It was making me feel quite ill and I felt like throwing up. Then I found myself shaking, as the cold water made its way into deeper parts. I had been recalled so that the sonographers could decide whether or not I actually do have an abnormal womb (see another post ). Bus journey and a long wait at the waiting room later, and after two other sonographers have had a go at scanning (both external and internal -- ouch!), the opinion was I do not have an abnormal uterus after all. What I have is probably a fibroid growing from where the surgeon had closed me up after a Caesarean-section. I'm not sure if I'm any happier or clearer about the situation. Now we wait for the doctors to decide what could exactly be wrong with me and what therefore should the course of action be. Meanwhile, life goes on. There are customers' order

Lessons in the snow

It's a few cm of snow on the ground and everything grinds to a halt in the UK. Why is it, I ask myself, that if our Scandinavian friends can cope with much more snow and higher summer temperatures, etc, that when weather conditions deviate slightly towards 'extreme', nothing works on this island? Husband had a text from London Underground to say the station is closed due to 'unsafe platforms'. They knew it was going to snow and yet these platforms have not been made safe. Somewhere further down the line a faulty train was holding up the system and had been since early morning for I don't know how long. At his 'alternative' station trains were running late as well due to 'adverse weather'. Knock-on effects? Son's school is closed. We were already warned about this yesterday. The fact is a number of teachers and children depend on public transport to get in. Our roads were also not gritted, making it quite unsafe for children to be walking alon

Bird Flu

Suffolk this time. In a factory farm. Am I surprised? Not the least bit. See Bird farms, bird flu Hopefully, more people will begin to realize the dismal conditions that these cheap supermarket birds are reared and think about better animal welfare and stop buying cheap-cheap-cheap all the time. At this factory farm, there's no more chip-chip-chip. See previous blog . Back to Organic-Ally .

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