Fiddlers

I thought that we were getting a bit more savvy with our purchasing these days, more customer aware. Even for those major items for things like cars or houses for instance we are informing ourselves to a greater extent before buying. There are many TV and radio programmes geared specifically for this. Even dodgy builders are exposed on candid camera style shows. Gone are the days when a 'buy two for one' pair of tights meant bullet holes appearing even as they were being put on, or what about the cheap black work skirts and trousers that went a strange shade of grungy green after a couple of washes because of poor quality dyes. And there is so much information on the packets as we become more discerning, the chances of passing off a 90 percent water washing up liquid or 90 percent sugar content in jam for example is becoming increasingly difficult.

So you can imagine my surprise when an even bigger than usual catalogue came sliding sneakily through my letter box the other day, informing me of homeware that included similar stuff to that which quite honestly my family and I had relegated to the skip or dumped at the back of our garage. What was even funnier was the price tags. These were so outrageous that we had to admire the sheer audacity of the, for want of a better word, sellers. Apparently reclaimed school desks from the 60's, industrial conveyer belt trays, fruit and veg crates and factory shelving are 'di rigeur' for home design for a certain type of client. There must be some out there who agree, as the sellers appear to be doing very well for themselves with outlets in a few of our major department stores. According to the catalogue my family discovered that we actually have a small fortune in old anglepoise lamps, utility light shades and a school bench lurking in our loft and garage and we were thinking of going into business ourselves.

And so my advice to anyone reading this is to be very guarded about leaving anything vintage, or old even, on your washing line, outside your house, in the rubbish bin, certainly in an unlocked garage, because old junk is an opportunity to peddle and it might be your loss that has become another's gain. The slogan on the front of the catalogue we received proudly announced: 'buy cheap buy twice' so to all discerning purchasers go careful out there.

Ho Ho Ho

With the run up to election we are all being bombarded with the various party platitudes. I am finding it very difficult not to be overly cynical about the promises. We know that they have been made before, even possibly swayed our voting decisions only to realise that they simply havn't been acted upon.

So, after checking out the party lines and trying to weigh up the pros and cons against each of the major three, given that we probably won't get 'exactly what it says on the box', what's next?

Well, then the next thing is to look at the kind of people that these ministers are setting themselves up to be, given all the staging, the photo opportunities, the homely good natured appearances of the wives who are being paraded around, the winning smiles of them all on the fliers, posters and leaflets. And you hope that these leaders and their MP's of the future are at least: trustworthy, affable, fair, intelligent and honourable - at which point it is difficult not to laugh, I mean really, really belly laugh! What a fiasco, what a hoot?

So, now I've got over my belly laugh the frightening issues come into play, the kind of things that have really had a major impact on my life that have been caused by legislation that has been passed, where I have felt the distant House of Commons finger poking directly into my cheek.

Whereas once upon a time the decisions made on how our country is goverened seemed to be about large all emcompassing issues. The effects were not experienced so personally as they seem to be today and in my opion it does feel like a 'nannying state'. I am talking about for example the re-structures in the NHS, some have ultimately badly affected our out of hours GP service. Others are to do with the way our health records are being stored using a national patient IT system. This is also worrying given the track record of Government IT systems, the lack of confidence already showing in the way that the information leaflet stated words to the effect: '...this will happen but if you don't want it to then it is your right to opt out...', left me thinking like so many others I expect, so, what should I decide then? Which is the safest bet? Then there are the issues over the recession, pensions, education, immigration, equality, social care, child care, war and terrorism; there has been no stone left unturned that hasn't had a bl---y good hoeing and ultimately it has all been so depressing.

This time round I have decided to go for the postal vote. The information is pinned onto my notice board and I see it everyday and so I cannot wriggle out by deliberately fogetting. I really did forget last time but I could have set up reminders. I am not proud of this and so I will vote and the postal option will be a safer bet; less physical effort - but ohhhh the indecision, how the very thinking of it hurts.

Reasons to be Cheerful

For several personal reasons I have been feeling rather depressed recently. Some of this may be due to the season, a lack of sunlight so I have been informed can cause depression over the winter months. And so I am blogging today to cheer myself up a bit by thinking of the reasons to be cheerful.

The first has to be that Winter must be over now, surely? There was warmth and sunlight today and I've seen crocuses and daffodils, primroses and hyacinths and so it must be, although I am still waiting for the leaves on the trees.

Second: I have had some lovely conversations recently with my son who continues to mature in ways that are truely intriguing and captivating.

Third: my life isn't bad at all and when I compare it to some other poor souls out there it is really very good. Reading the papers and listening to reports help to put things into perspective. God only knows how or why the human race continues to inflict such horrors onto its own as if there is not enough to cope with.

Fourth: the birds are singing again, and although it must be difficult to find nesting places as the trees are lacking leaves, I have still witnessed Mr Blackbird wolf whistling and chasing his Mrs Browny bird around the garden, and this has made me smile. And I have also watched the sparrows hopping in and out of the bird bath and it is obvious that they are enjoying splashing around in the water, just like kids do. And this made me happy.