A slab hymn lather

My posts have been slowing down of late to such an extent that I am probably going to put my other two on hold and just post on here for the time being as I seem to be quite busy currently. If I am honest with myself the news and sport blogs are just me mouthing off on certain topics and do not add anything to the debate and if I don't post anything for a few days I start to feel guilty as if I have an obligation to keep them updated. My verbosity does not help which is why I have started to make any pithy comments on either of my Twitter feeds where, if anybody is interested, have the advantage of brevity. When I had the time if I was feeling obliged to post I would trawl around for a relevant story on which to comment in a way that I had not heard already before writing something down rather than being inspired to comment after hearing something which was more the case at the start of the project.
   Ironically I got that feeling again today with the furore over Johann Hari but it's late and everything that could be said has been. However, there does seem to be a worrying trend of us and them in from the commentators where he has got a sympathetic hearing from those with similar liberal tendencies and an absolute pillorying from those on the right. Basically using old quotes is not great journalism and he should have been up front about his technique but it does not make him the scourge of Fleet Street (or wherever the Hell they are nowadays) and there are far worse columnists misrepresenting what people say. To be honest I was impressed that he had researched his interviewees enough to find previous quotes from them and suspect that other columnists would not have bothered. The anger directed at him from some quarters is over the top and I fear an American Fox News style media emerging where shouting and pointing fingers replaces debate. The more extreme elements there seemed to emerge under a right wing government almost as if they got too defensive justifying their actions and I hope it does not get that far over here. Any perceived faults in right wing commentators are more easily brushed aside as if we would not expect anything other from them but those on the left need to be holier than thou for fear of being labelled a hypocrite.
   I suppose I could have posted that on News Views after all but it may be easier in the long run to combine all my ramblings in this one place from topical events to sport to the quotidian which was how it started before I differentiated them as I felt I wanted to separate the personal details from my political thoughts. It is all part of who I am, however, and to continue the calculus theme it may be time to integrate.

Harm ant, bash, yell

At the start of the week returning home from night shift found me dangerously tired as I struggled to keep my eyes open but thankfully the last few shifts I was fine as I readjusted to that sleep pattern (just in time to reset my biological clock as that shift ends). Each morning, however, as I got home Bethany was asleep in our bed but laid perpendicularly to Alison so that there was no room for me. Having no choice but to turn her at right angles so that she is parallel between us she was sound asleep enough not to be disturbed by this manoeuvre each time I performed it. Within an hour she is usually up and this morning she announced the end of her slumbers by climbing over my head to try and switch on the bedside lamp.
   She continues in pursuing new activities and Alison has been colouring in with her with the intention of using one of her creations as a birthday card for Helen next week. Concern about leaving her with the sharp looking coloured pencils, especially as she has developed a tendency of trying to put things up her nose or rub her eyes with them we thought it safer her to get her some crayons. At the back of our minds we already knew where this was going to lead and sure enough no sooner had Bethany opened the tin of crayons she was using them to colour in the laminate flooring.
   This morning before Alison went to work she thought it a good idea to make some cakes with Bethany who remained completely disinterested by the whole experience and preferred to bang together her food bowls that were on the worktop. A small moment of worry came when offering her the bowl to lick out before remembering that the mixture contained raw egg. Bethany was not interested in eating it anyway although she was a little bit sick later on.
   We had to go into town to pick up the cake mix and crayons yesterday and in my tiredness I managed to confuse myself. Alison and Bethany left the house whilst I finished what I was doing before following them out and locking up. When I got outside I could not see them so thinking that I had locked them in I returned indoors and shouted for them. No reply and only me there puzzled me but going back out to the street I saw them coming back to the street after Bethany had evidently decided to start to walk down town. Being locked in was a familiar theme as I was trapped in the yard at work that morning between two locked gates. A delivery driver had spent the night in the yard and I went down to open the outer gate around 5am to let him out onto the road. About half an hour later he went so I went back down to lock the gate back up. I reopened the inner automatic gate from the inside, put the padlock on the outer gate and turned round only to find that the inner gate had been closed - controlled by the Gatehouse who must have noticed it open on the camera and rather than thinking that it had been opened for a reason just shut it. I resorted to phoning the office for the manager to come and let me out but as he came down the Gatehouse must have managed to make me out hidden as I was in my bright orange hi-vis jacket.
   In the town there was one of those human statues which I can't recall seeing in Darlington previously and who was pretty ridiculous. She was dressed as a bride with a painted white face and a parasol and as Alison disdainfully remarked "She's moving". The occasional movement did not bother me: what I found annoying was that she was sat down on one of the benches on high row. The first time I saw these "performers" was on Las Ramblas in Barcelona where the novelty and the stillness made them worth pausing to watch for a while and get a photo. I have not seen many seated statues but that is what we had on offer yesterday - a lass in a white dress having a sit down. Ironically around the corner a homeless man was sat in a shop doorway with a box in front of him as well and I found it hard to differentiate between the two. Being tired and now grumpy I walked passed both of them without giving either any change but felt guiltier for refusing the homeless man.

Bream shanty hall

I'm umming and ahhing. When I started my website I had a £50 voucher for advertising on Google and, whilst I was hardly inundated with requests, it is noticeable that I have not had an order since the voucher credit ran out. My problem is that I'm not very big on self promotion and in an ideal world would like to build a word of mouth situation helped along by Twitter and Facebook accounts to promote the site. As it's just me trying for a bit of pocket money to supplement our income I was averse to paying for more advertising when the site is not generating that much income in the first place - basing on how well the voucher performed £20 of ads may generate £30 -£40 income per month. Hopefully as the website became more established more orders would be placed but that leads to another fear: demand outstripping my ability to write them. This is more of a pipe dream - the thought that I would have to turn work away or even sub contract is incredibly unlikely. Seeing that the hits on my site have fallen right off and I got bored of trawling the pages on search engines means that I either bite the bullet and accept that I need to advertise or let the whole thing drift away for the remaining time left on the website. Much as I find the concept of advertising quite distasteful, for the sake of £10 or £20 I think I'll take some out and see what happens.
  
   Bethany now has almost a mouthful of teeth which have added a sibilant tone when she speaks. Her favourite word is still "Shoes" and she will now say "Yes" rather than the previous "Yeah". She is also continuing to climb everywhere, preferring the top of the coffee table to the floor where she will dance to any form of music - including my attempts at percussion on one of her toy boxes. She is also still enjoying a varied diet but is easily bored by the food on her plate (especially if it something she has had a few times previously) and would prefer to eat what is on our plate - even if it is the same food.
   I was impressed, however, by her ability to buy me some beer for my 2nd Father's Day if not a little concerned (or at least would be if I had not given Alison a lift to the shops the day before whilst Bethany and I waited in the car) but at least she scribbled in my card.

Than rashly blame

A shortened week at work (that's not over yet) but chewy that did not seem quite so important after a serious accident involving a tanker driver. The driver was delivering caustic and as he went to connect his tanker up got covered in it as it exploded in his face. The first I saw was when I passed to see him being attended to with bottles of eye wash just after being thrown under the shower. By all accounts his face was red and blistered and the worst case scenario first reports feared for his sight but thankfully that appears to be alright and after being taken to hospital he was later transferred to James Cook University Hospital but was reported as stable and had been released by today.
   The car park has not seen so much activity as ambulance men, police and health and safety officers milled around getting details and examining the CCTV footage. From what I gather he had not started pumping the caustic off but had simply removed the cap from the back. Not yet wearing his visor the valve must have been leaking and building up pressure behind the cap which then flew into his face as he removed it. Apparently he admitted his fault in not wearing his visor and supervisors at work are fearing reprisals for not ensuring that he was wearing his safety equipment which they are supposed to do but in reality everybody signs the paperwork and leaves him to it. On the face of it this may seem lax but the driver must, and apparently has, taken responsibility for his own protection provided he has been issued with the correct equipment and received the proper training. Whilst the onus of this will fall on his company it is not to deny our company any responsibility as they must inform him of any local rules which to be fair is generally the case.
   The trouble is that everybody is in fear of legal action and being sued or even prosecuted so seek to apportion blame. This has the knock on effect of people being wary of reporting accidents worrying about consequences which can only make things worse as people are more nervous and not concentrating on the job in hand. In the last few weeks there have now been a number of mistakes as the workload increases and people get tired working extra days which then creates a vicious circle.
   At least in this instance as bad as the accident was and the scars the driver may have it is slightly reassuring that it is not as bad as was first feared.

Thames ran by hall.

My mini holiday is officially over as I return to work tomorrow but I managed a few chores and caught up with a few DVDs I had not seen - replacing the last film in the drawer I found another I had forgotten I had still in the cellophane. That gives me something easy to watch rather than search again for the DVD remote or hide in another room to watch a box set.
   Alison at least enjoyed her concert although said that she felt unwell and had to be taken to First Aid after feeling faint where they checked her blood pressure and the like and found that her blood sugar was low. I teases that she had suffered from takethatmania but thankfully she seems a bit better now and it did not detract from her enjoying the show. She and my mam did say that the stewards were very helpful at the City of Manchester stadium as they asked where they could get some water and one offered Alison his own bottle and they guided her to the First Aid area.
   Despite the best attempts at clearing up bits of feather and other material of varying shades of pink are still dotted around the South Park as evidence of the Race for Life from the other day. Either that or some diseased textile flamingos have had a fight. Crossing the park I also noticed what looked suspiciously like one of Bethany's dummies in the approximate area where we had been sat but thought it best to steer her away from it. One of her dummies I did see is the one on the mud bank of the duck pond which she dropped out of her mouth the other week and is still nestled the other side of the fence by the water's edge. Along with those she manages to spit out down the side of the cot during the night and the rest that she hides in her "special place" we are fast working our way through them. Any credit we are gaining from improving the fortunes of dummy manufacturers and suppliers we are negating with the environmental impact of dumping half of these non biodegradable supplies in parkland.
   Still at least Bethany enjoyed herself in the park, talking to the ducks and chasing squirrels before playing on the swings and slide.

All hearths by man.

   Well it's just Bethany and myself as Alison left with my mother this morning as they set off for Manchester to see Take That. After dropping them off at the train station my dad came back round with Helen a little later as Helen was running the Race for Life in the South Park and we went to cheer her on along with Jackie and her sisters. Bethany was happy enough in the park but started to get tired from hanging around as we waited to see them cross the start line. The bottle neck and craning to pick an individual out from the sea of pink proved a thankless task especially as the crowd were three deep at the start / finish line and we were stood next to the speakers. Seeing Bethany tire we headed for home believing we had half an hour for her to rest but as we crossed back across the field she hot her second wind and we waited by the 500m to go mark figuring we had a better chance of spotting Helen.
   As it turned out, as she sauntered over towards us, she had passed us, waving and shouting "Hello" as she did so, but we had missed her again. Seeing her approach I thought that she was still in the race and had cut a corner off as we had not spotted her but the medal round her neck proved otherwise. As we had been of no assistance in timing her she had kept her own time at about 36 minutes and we waited for Jackie to pass. For some reason she chose to ignore my suggestion of taunting as she passed with a cry of "Beat you" and waving her medal at her.
   Bethany's vocabulary does seem to be starting to develop with "shoes" in particular something she knows and happily says if somewhat sibilantly and then tries mostly unsuccessfully to put on her feet. Opening the cupboard where the juice is kept it definitely sounded like she was asking for a "Fruit Shoot (or juice)". Her potty training has been fairly non existent so far with her initial curiosity at the potty wearing thin but she does occasionally indicate when she wants her nappy changing by either getting the changing mat out or by starting to take her shoes off ready.
   Bethany continues to fight going to sleep even when it is obvious she is tired which resulted in a ten minute stand off last night as she howled wanting to be put down and allowed to play. Horrible as I felt I refused to give in knowing that she would resort to such tactics whenever she wanted her own way and I knew that she wasn't in pain only tired and having a tantrum. Eventually she dropped off and slept soundly until awaking in the early hours where we brought her into our bed and that rarest of occasions - we were up before her.

Thebans harm ally.

An influx of new faces (who I have not yet seen and whom in the best nepotistic manner are the sons of current employees) and the continued training of others who joined the department recently from other areas is providing the mixed results you might expect. Added to that we have a couple of workers returning after being laid off last year and the increased workload that has led to extra employees all preparing for the almost inevitable continental shifts just around the corner. The strain is beginning to show and not just on the staff as the old plant is creaking under the pressure and we start to run out of space for the extra production.
   Last week saw two more incidents of mistakes being made as the pressure mounts to get the product out the door to satisfy customers and whilst I sympathised with the people responsible after my own cock up a couple of months ago, there was a little part of me that was somewhat relieved to no longer be the only person to have made such an obvious error. It was not a feeling of schadenfreude as I could see how crestfallen one man was when he was telling me what had happened and recalled how I had felt myself.
   As for the training this is the first occasion that I have trained somebody in this department and I am rather enjoying the experience. Curiously yesterday was too busy and my trainee was required elsewhere which was probably for the best as there would have been too much to take in at once as I ran around to complete the workload. Conversely today was too quiet with long runs which afforded the opportunity to walk round and explain the process but with little opportunity of hands on experience. One of the bonuses of training is that it can teach you things as well as questions may be asked which you had not thought of before. The simple "What's that for?" can prompt me to look into something that I had no previous use for but allows me a bit more information for future reference. Thankfully my trainee has some interest and competence for the job as I have had people shadow me for a few hours previously and their antipathy is palpable making it difficult to continue in what amounts to a futile task.

Small hen by a hart.

 I hate myself for having caught a few episodes of Britain's Got Talent but the thing that strikes me is the way the audience are treated with contempt on the one hand as everything is geared to getting people to phone in and generate income and then with more intelligence than they previously assumed. This stems from the disdainful comments the judges make in their attempts to steer the vote whilst not taking the audience reaction into account. Most approbation appears to be reserved for those acts who dare not have a different routine for subsequent rounds as if bands and comics change their set list and routine from one night to the next when on tour. The audience either like the act or not and for an amateur to have several routines mapped out seems rather demanding before that audience tires of it. The public's ability to withstand repetition is stronger than the judges imagine and this is not a recent phenomenon as Norman Collier managed to get a career from pretending to have a faulty microphone and dropping his jacket below his shoulders and strutting around like a chicken. Similarly Bernie Clifton did not do too badly by riding around on a stuffed ostrich and in both cases it became their USP whereby they were not allowed to evolve as however many new jokes they put into their set the audience went to see them do their "thing".
   In Bethany news a couple of nice days saw the paddling pool make an appearance which she enjoyed although possibly a little too much. Aside from everything within a ten foot radius getting soaked she took to using her bucket and spade that was left over from a trip to Redcar the day before (could not see the dead whale but there was a strong smell of fish). As the spade was more of a ladle she used it to fill the bucket with water from the pool but alternate scoops she used for drinking. She turned down offers of juice preferring instead to drink the pool water with added floaters.

Ham ran, belly shat

I suppose given the rather infrequent requests generated from my website this week has started with a furry of activity. Not only did I receive an actual order which has duly been completed (no feedback yet though) but rather bizarrely I also received a request from somebody seeking employment.  I must admit that it was quite flattering that somebody must think I am more professional than I actually am and that based on the website they presumed that I was running a successful operation receiving so many requests that I was sub contracting the work out as opposed to the four poems in three months that I have completed.
   I promised to keep hold of his details should the situation change and I have done but hopefully he finds something in the meantime as he may have a long wait and I did not have the heart in dispelling the notion that I offer a professional service. It seems churlish to fault find with his enquiry but the pedant in me refuses to ignore making criticisms - I know I'm not perfect but I welcome people commenting on e.g. my punctuation as for one thing it means somebody is paying attention to me. Anyway the "application" was done in verse form and included the phrases "beneath my chest" and "from the heart" to describe where he was speaking from emotionally and this confused biology did jar with me. I did not have the heart (from within my chest) to point this out as I thought one blow was enough for him in one day. Had I a job to offer him then what little experience I have may have felt inclined to offer some constructive criticism,