Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 77
October 11, 2012
International Day of the Girl
Further to my posts earlier this month about girls and science, I'm informed that today - October 11th - is International Day of the Girl.
Following a large-scale campaign by the charity Plan , the United Nations has declared October 11th 2012 as the first ever International Day of the Girl - a day to spread the word that the power of investing in girls unleashes their incredible potential.
It is especially resonant given the appalling attack on fourteen-year-old Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousafzai earlier this week. I've got a fourteen-year-old daughter. Although she moans about school sometimes (occasionally with good reason) she doesn't have to dodge bullets and risk Taliban death threats just to get there. We take so much for granted here.
Anyway, to show your support for this special day why not visit Plan UK's Facebook page and sign Plan’s petition calling on the UN General Secretary to lead action by world leaders to make girls’ education a priority.
As the father of two daughters I take it for granted that they'll receive an education enabling them to reach their full potential. I find it astonishing, revolting and deeply depressing that there are those who think otherwise and who are prepared to go to such extreme lengths to prevent half the population having access to something so simple, so basic and yet so hugely important.
We don't all live in the Swat valley or write a blog about our struggle to get an education but we can do something today - in the name of the education we've all received - to try and make a difference.
Following a large-scale campaign by the charity Plan , the United Nations has declared October 11th 2012 as the first ever International Day of the Girl - a day to spread the word that the power of investing in girls unleashes their incredible potential.
It is especially resonant given the appalling attack on fourteen-year-old Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousafzai earlier this week. I've got a fourteen-year-old daughter. Although she moans about school sometimes (occasionally with good reason) she doesn't have to dodge bullets and risk Taliban death threats just to get there. We take so much for granted here.
Anyway, to show your support for this special day why not visit Plan UK's Facebook page and sign Plan’s petition calling on the UN General Secretary to lead action by world leaders to make girls’ education a priority.
As the father of two daughters I take it for granted that they'll receive an education enabling them to reach their full potential. I find it astonishing, revolting and deeply depressing that there are those who think otherwise and who are prepared to go to such extreme lengths to prevent half the population having access to something so simple, so basic and yet so hugely important.
We don't all live in the Swat valley or write a blog about our struggle to get an education but we can do something today - in the name of the education we've all received - to try and make a difference.
October 9, 2012
Do your children watch too much television?
Mine don't. And I don't drink too much red wine, either.
But unlike my favourite tipple, it's difficult to quantify how much is too much where TV is concerned. Some doctors, for example, are today calling for a total ban on under-threes watching television, which seems a little extreme. Doesn't it?
I mean, telly is just so good. By which, I mean, kids TV. By which I mean, of course, CBeebies. I've written before of my admiration, gratitude and - at times - sheer relief that the quality of children's programming that Auntie Beeb continually churns out. It means I can turn the telly on in the certain knowledge that my brood will be (in the words of the charter) 'informed, educated and entertained'. Which is exactly as it should be.
Other TV channels are available, of course. But as much as Charlie loves Thomas the Tank Engine and Roary the Racing Car, we try to avoid Milkshake in the mornings for the simple reason that the programmes are punctuated by the most outrageously in-yer-face adverts. Which is a shame. Perhaps the professors should ban those?
But ban TV? Really? In the immortal words of Sergeant Wilson, 'do you really think that's, er, wise?'
Well, it's thought that the time children spend in front of a screen - whether that be a computer, TV or games console - might actually be causing developmental damage. It's certainly true (as Professor Sigman, for it is he, states) that the first three years of a child's life are among the most critical for brain development. But the evidence that screen-watching inhibits that development is rather vague, to say the least.
I've no axe to grind either for or against TV. As a family, we could just about do away with our set as Sarah and I watch so little. (Is it me, or is there really very little for adults to watch?) The kid could watch a DVD or pick and choose their favourites on iPlayer.
But I do think that pseudo-scientific scaremongering and associated headline-grabbing is about as scary as whatever it is the men (and they are, mostly) in white coats want to frighten us away from. Remember MMR?
Everything is moderation might be a cliché, but it might also be the only sensible response to the rising chorus of those who want to ban anything and everything remotely enjoyable.
I just need to learn to practise what I preach as far as vin rouge is concerned.
But then, it doesn't keep, does it? And think how much more I might get through if it wasn't for CBeebies. See, Professor Sigman? Another benefit of children's television.
But unlike my favourite tipple, it's difficult to quantify how much is too much where TV is concerned. Some doctors, for example, are today calling for a total ban on under-threes watching television, which seems a little extreme. Doesn't it?
I mean, telly is just so good. By which, I mean, kids TV. By which I mean, of course, CBeebies. I've written before of my admiration, gratitude and - at times - sheer relief that the quality of children's programming that Auntie Beeb continually churns out. It means I can turn the telly on in the certain knowledge that my brood will be (in the words of the charter) 'informed, educated and entertained'. Which is exactly as it should be.
Other TV channels are available, of course. But as much as Charlie loves Thomas the Tank Engine and Roary the Racing Car, we try to avoid Milkshake in the mornings for the simple reason that the programmes are punctuated by the most outrageously in-yer-face adverts. Which is a shame. Perhaps the professors should ban those?
But ban TV? Really? In the immortal words of Sergeant Wilson, 'do you really think that's, er, wise?'
Well, it's thought that the time children spend in front of a screen - whether that be a computer, TV or games console - might actually be causing developmental damage. It's certainly true (as Professor Sigman, for it is he, states) that the first three years of a child's life are among the most critical for brain development. But the evidence that screen-watching inhibits that development is rather vague, to say the least.
I've no axe to grind either for or against TV. As a family, we could just about do away with our set as Sarah and I watch so little. (Is it me, or is there really very little for adults to watch?) The kid could watch a DVD or pick and choose their favourites on iPlayer.
But I do think that pseudo-scientific scaremongering and associated headline-grabbing is about as scary as whatever it is the men (and they are, mostly) in white coats want to frighten us away from. Remember MMR?
Everything is moderation might be a cliché, but it might also be the only sensible response to the rising chorus of those who want to ban anything and everything remotely enjoyable.
I just need to learn to practise what I preach as far as vin rouge is concerned.
But then, it doesn't keep, does it? And think how much more I might get through if it wasn't for CBeebies. See, Professor Sigman? Another benefit of children's television.
October 4, 2012
It's Different for Girls
This is a sponsored post but, quite frankly, I'd be writing it anyway. The Institute of Physics has just launched a campaign to promote physics to young girls. Why? Because in almost half of UK secondary schools last year there were no girls - not one - doing A level physics. The statistics for girls' schools are slightly better: there are more than twice as many girls doing physics to A level in a single sex girls school as in a mixed but the message is still clear: too few girls are getting the opportunity. (You can find out more about the influence of schools in the Institute's report, as well as reading how senior leaders can support girls' take-up of the subject.)
Some might be tempted to ask if that matters. The answer, of course, is yes - a lot. Apart from the overwhelming need in the UK to have this skillset, career choices - and not just those involving wearing a lab coat - are at stake as well as a host of other opportunities and benefits. Physics graduates earn salaries well above average and the subject is useful in a wide variety of careers. Including, apparently, professionaly poker playing:
So what can we do about it? Well, the Institute of Physics has devised a number of strategies to get girls engaged in the subject and has produced this document especially for parents. As the father of a teenage daughter - and one not so far overwhelmed with enthusiasm for the subject - I'll certainly be taking careful note of the advice that it contains (which includes such simple steps as challenging stereotypes and avoiding negative comments such as 'I was terrible at/hated physics when I was at school').
At a time when a university education is becoming more expensive, student debt is growing and graduate career opportunities shrinking, children need to have open access to all their potential educational and employment options. There's no inherent reason why so few girls should be good at physics - girls and boys do equally well at GCSE and as the figures for all-girls' schools show, girls can and do succeed in the subject.
Changing things isn't going to happen quickly, but I'm impressed by the way the Institute of Physics has considered ways in which parents can engage children with a love of science from a young age. And I'm pleased we do a number of these things - such as including a little bit of science into everyday life from telly-watching to cooking to organising days out.
And, of course, sharing inspirational female role-models such as Masterchef finalist and PhD physicist Aki Matsushima and former rhythmic gymnast Liv Boeree shows just what kind of world physicists inhabit beyond the classroom.
Some might be tempted to ask if that matters. The answer, of course, is yes - a lot. Apart from the overwhelming need in the UK to have this skillset, career choices - and not just those involving wearing a lab coat - are at stake as well as a host of other opportunities and benefits. Physics graduates earn salaries well above average and the subject is useful in a wide variety of careers. Including, apparently, professionaly poker playing:
So what can we do about it? Well, the Institute of Physics has devised a number of strategies to get girls engaged in the subject and has produced this document especially for parents. As the father of a teenage daughter - and one not so far overwhelmed with enthusiasm for the subject - I'll certainly be taking careful note of the advice that it contains (which includes such simple steps as challenging stereotypes and avoiding negative comments such as 'I was terrible at/hated physics when I was at school').
At a time when a university education is becoming more expensive, student debt is growing and graduate career opportunities shrinking, children need to have open access to all their potential educational and employment options. There's no inherent reason why so few girls should be good at physics - girls and boys do equally well at GCSE and as the figures for all-girls' schools show, girls can and do succeed in the subject.
Changing things isn't going to happen quickly, but I'm impressed by the way the Institute of Physics has considered ways in which parents can engage children with a love of science from a young age. And I'm pleased we do a number of these things - such as including a little bit of science into everyday life from telly-watching to cooking to organising days out.
And, of course, sharing inspirational female role-models such as Masterchef finalist and PhD physicist Aki Matsushima and former rhythmic gymnast Liv Boeree shows just what kind of world physicists inhabit beyond the classroom.
October 2, 2012
I am the egg man
Here's an interesting start to an email:
I work for the British Egg Information Service (yes, there is such an organisation!) which handles the PR for British eggs, helps with queries from the public, run events and much more. It’s egg-cellent fun (sorry...) One of those events is British Egg Week (1-7 October), the annual celebration of the versatility and healthiness of eggs. And that’s why I’m contacting you today. We hoped you may be interested in receiving a new cookery book which is being launched for British Egg Week.
Well of course, I had to say 'yes' and the book (called Take a Box of Eggs, the latest in the Dairy Cookbook series) contains over 100 triple-tested egg recipes of varying degrees of difficulty – from classic boiled eggs through to Spanish omelettes, huevos rancheros and soufflés. There is some mouthwatering photography and each of the recipes has its own QR code linking to an ingredients shopping list.
Anyway, as it's British Egg Week I thought I'd share what I had for breakfast today - eggs, scrambled. And my recipe (which isn't in the book) is simple: two eggs, a little melted butter, some grated parmesan and a swirl of cream...
There. You can have that one for nothing. You can have the recipe book for nothing, too. Well, some of you can as the same email goes on to say they have 'access to extra copies of the book and would be happy to send [me] some for a giveaway.' All you have to do is share your own favourite egg recipe below.
If you don't bag a freebie (or don't want to leave a comment etc.) then the book - normally priced £9.99 including P&P - is on special offer at just £7.49 during October and you can take advantage of it at www.britisheggweek.com.
Finally, the email concludes...
One more thing! Naturally we feel next week is the ideal timing to be talking about eggs, but of course it’s completely up to you if (!) and when you choose to do so. To flag up some key dates - British Egg Week runs until 7 October and the following Friday, 12 September [I think they mean October] is World Egg Day (yes, really).
Thanks for that, Sophie.
Coo-coo-ca-choo!
I work for the British Egg Information Service (yes, there is such an organisation!) which handles the PR for British eggs, helps with queries from the public, run events and much more. It’s egg-cellent fun (sorry...) One of those events is British Egg Week (1-7 October), the annual celebration of the versatility and healthiness of eggs. And that’s why I’m contacting you today. We hoped you may be interested in receiving a new cookery book which is being launched for British Egg Week.
Well of course, I had to say 'yes' and the book (called Take a Box of Eggs, the latest in the Dairy Cookbook series) contains over 100 triple-tested egg recipes of varying degrees of difficulty – from classic boiled eggs through to Spanish omelettes, huevos rancheros and soufflés. There is some mouthwatering photography and each of the recipes has its own QR code linking to an ingredients shopping list.
Anyway, as it's British Egg Week I thought I'd share what I had for breakfast today - eggs, scrambled. And my recipe (which isn't in the book) is simple: two eggs, a little melted butter, some grated parmesan and a swirl of cream...
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There. You can have that one for nothing. You can have the recipe book for nothing, too. Well, some of you can as the same email goes on to say they have 'access to extra copies of the book and would be happy to send [me] some for a giveaway.' All you have to do is share your own favourite egg recipe below.
If you don't bag a freebie (or don't want to leave a comment etc.) then the book - normally priced £9.99 including P&P - is on special offer at just £7.49 during October and you can take advantage of it at www.britisheggweek.com.
Finally, the email concludes...
One more thing! Naturally we feel next week is the ideal timing to be talking about eggs, but of course it’s completely up to you if (!) and when you choose to do so. To flag up some key dates - British Egg Week runs until 7 October and the following Friday, 12 September [I think they mean October] is World Egg Day (yes, really).
Thanks for that, Sophie.
Coo-coo-ca-choo!
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September 30, 2012
Sunday Supplement: Vax Fax
Why buy me? reads the rather plaintive enquiry on the box of the new Vax Air³ Multi-Cyclone upright (or 'vacuum cleaner' as you and I might to call it). Well for a start, I didn't; they sent me one to review. But so impressed have I been with my existing Vax Mach Air Reach (in common with most of the family, who have almost universally replaced their existing models with carpet cleaners out of the Vax stable - and bought with their own cash - after seeing the Mach Air in action here).
In truth, the offer came not a moment too soon. The Mach Air Reach has a reset button that cuts the rotation of the beater bar the moment it detects an obstruction, and mine now seems to have permanently detected an obstruction. So although it's working perfectly in every other respect (and 'reach' it most certainly does - from the top to bottom of the stairs) it's not the vacuum cleaner that it once was.
Nor is it the vacuum that the Air³ U88-AM-B is. Although superficially alike and giving comparable performance in terms of capacity and suction, the new beast is even easier on the wrists. Not only is it extremely light (4.9kg in use) like its predecessor, it's manoeuvrable too, making a sinch of a one-handed sashay round the sofa. As says in answer to its own questions: 'I twist and turn around your furniture', 'I deep clean your carpets' (with an impressive 225 air watts) and - with a H12 HEPA filter - 'I reduce allergens'. If it could only twist and turn all by itself like Robot Vac once did, I'd be in floor cleaning heaven.
I'm almost there now as a result of trialling the Vax S2 Hard Floor Master as well. That's a steam mop, by the way, but not just a steam mop as it can be used to refresh carpets and rugs as well as cleaning tiles, lino, and laminate and wood flooring. It cleans by using powerful jets of steam and not only does the high temperature kill off bacteria dust mites and other allergens, it cuts through grime without needing a detergent so you can be sure any slightly larger creatures crawling on your floor (kids, dogs) aren't going to come to any harm. It'll eliminate bacteria and make your kitchen floor clean enough to eat your dinner off...
Which is a good job as we often (for reasons I'm sure, if you're a parent of small children you'll be only too familiar with) have to do just that. Well, some of us do anyway.
Talking of which, my Sunday lunch beckons so that's me done for another Sunday supplement. Enjoy what's left of the weekend.
In truth, the offer came not a moment too soon. The Mach Air Reach has a reset button that cuts the rotation of the beater bar the moment it detects an obstruction, and mine now seems to have permanently detected an obstruction. So although it's working perfectly in every other respect (and 'reach' it most certainly does - from the top to bottom of the stairs) it's not the vacuum cleaner that it once was.
Nor is it the vacuum that the Air³ U88-AM-B is. Although superficially alike and giving comparable performance in terms of capacity and suction, the new beast is even easier on the wrists. Not only is it extremely light (4.9kg in use) like its predecessor, it's manoeuvrable too, making a sinch of a one-handed sashay round the sofa. As says in answer to its own questions: 'I twist and turn around your furniture', 'I deep clean your carpets' (with an impressive 225 air watts) and - with a H12 HEPA filter - 'I reduce allergens'. If it could only twist and turn all by itself like Robot Vac once did, I'd be in floor cleaning heaven.
I'm almost there now as a result of trialling the Vax S2 Hard Floor Master as well. That's a steam mop, by the way, but not just a steam mop as it can be used to refresh carpets and rugs as well as cleaning tiles, lino, and laminate and wood flooring. It cleans by using powerful jets of steam and not only does the high temperature kill off bacteria dust mites and other allergens, it cuts through grime without needing a detergent so you can be sure any slightly larger creatures crawling on your floor (kids, dogs) aren't going to come to any harm. It'll eliminate bacteria and make your kitchen floor clean enough to eat your dinner off...
Which is a good job as we often (for reasons I'm sure, if you're a parent of small children you'll be only too familiar with) have to do just that. Well, some of us do anyway.
Talking of which, my Sunday lunch beckons so that's me done for another Sunday supplement. Enjoy what's left of the weekend.
September 26, 2012
Please, sir!
So, Barack Obama wants to return to teaching after he's finished being President of the United States, does he? In an interview on ABC's daytime talk show 'The View' he said that 'working with kids' would be his ambition once his tenure as most powerful man on earth ended. (Clearly he hopes to have his lease on the White House extended for another four years first.)
I said something similar, once. (Although I wasn't the most powerful man on the planet.) When I gave up teaching five years ago I was sure I'd be back; I just needed a break. I did return to the classroom, of course, last year - working as a psychology teacher while my wife was on maternity leave. But once again the school bell rang and although I'd enjoyed my year immensely, I found myself starting to have doubts about the long term plan to return to teaching permanently.
My misgivings, though, have little to do with the classroom. Far from it. If the job was simply teaching and marking then there wouldn't be a problem. But it isn't. In common with just about every other occupation, it's about self-justification and administration - spending an inordinate amount of time responding to the demands of those from politicians to inspectors to Headteachers who seem to need to micro-manage every aspect of the job.
As an example, allow me to introduce exhibit A - the announcement last week by the Head of Ofsted that he would instruct inspectors to mark down schools that gave pay increases to teachers who were 'out the gate at 3 o'clock'. Sir Michael Wilshaw said he expected teachers to stay beyond the end of the school day in order to 'go the extra mile' for children, especially when working in poorer communities.
As I write this, at gone ten o'clock in the evening, my wife is still sitting at the dining room table, marking. She'll be there a good deal longer, too. As she is almost every evening. And yet the demands just keep on coming. Teaching, as defined by people like Sir Michael Wilshaw, is rapidly becoming mission impossible. No teacher 'out of the gate at 3 o'clock' can hope that's the end of their working day. With marking and lesson preparation extending well into the evening, every evening, encroaching into weekends and eating sizeable chunks of those oh-so-generous holidays, combined with the need to flee one set of school gates in order to arrive in time at another, I can certainly think of easier ways to earn a living.
This isn't a plea for teaching to be considered a special case. Lots of people work jolly hard, and I'll not single out any particular profession because we're all increasingly being asked for more whilst being given little in terms of pay or praise in return.
But I've decided I won't be filling any of the increasing number of teaching vacancies in the future. At least, not full-time. I've had twenty years of the highs and lows (more highs than lows, to be fair) and can only see the prospect of another twenty as being an exercise in masochism.
Which rather begs the question: what will I do when my time as daddy daycare ends?
Because it won't be this:
I said something similar, once. (Although I wasn't the most powerful man on the planet.) When I gave up teaching five years ago I was sure I'd be back; I just needed a break. I did return to the classroom, of course, last year - working as a psychology teacher while my wife was on maternity leave. But once again the school bell rang and although I'd enjoyed my year immensely, I found myself starting to have doubts about the long term plan to return to teaching permanently.
My misgivings, though, have little to do with the classroom. Far from it. If the job was simply teaching and marking then there wouldn't be a problem. But it isn't. In common with just about every other occupation, it's about self-justification and administration - spending an inordinate amount of time responding to the demands of those from politicians to inspectors to Headteachers who seem to need to micro-manage every aspect of the job.
As an example, allow me to introduce exhibit A - the announcement last week by the Head of Ofsted that he would instruct inspectors to mark down schools that gave pay increases to teachers who were 'out the gate at 3 o'clock'. Sir Michael Wilshaw said he expected teachers to stay beyond the end of the school day in order to 'go the extra mile' for children, especially when working in poorer communities.
As I write this, at gone ten o'clock in the evening, my wife is still sitting at the dining room table, marking. She'll be there a good deal longer, too. As she is almost every evening. And yet the demands just keep on coming. Teaching, as defined by people like Sir Michael Wilshaw, is rapidly becoming mission impossible. No teacher 'out of the gate at 3 o'clock' can hope that's the end of their working day. With marking and lesson preparation extending well into the evening, every evening, encroaching into weekends and eating sizeable chunks of those oh-so-generous holidays, combined with the need to flee one set of school gates in order to arrive in time at another, I can certainly think of easier ways to earn a living.
This isn't a plea for teaching to be considered a special case. Lots of people work jolly hard, and I'll not single out any particular profession because we're all increasingly being asked for more whilst being given little in terms of pay or praise in return.
But I've decided I won't be filling any of the increasing number of teaching vacancies in the future. At least, not full-time. I've had twenty years of the highs and lows (more highs than lows, to be fair) and can only see the prospect of another twenty as being an exercise in masochism.
Which rather begs the question: what will I do when my time as daddy daycare ends?
Because it won't be this:
September 24, 2012
I've Never Seen Star Wars
I've Never Seen Star Wars is the title of a Radio Four show in which successive slebs are confronted by common experiences that seem somehow to have passed them by. It came up in conversation at the weekend when we were visiting friends, who had thoughtfully brought down from the loft a box full of their (grown-up) children's Star Wars toys for Charlie to play with. Needless to say, Charlie's never seen the film but it didn't seem to spoil his enjoyment.
A brief conversation about the programme followed and it was then I thought, why should they - the slebs - have all the fun? There's loads of things I haven't done (or seen or heard or read or tasted) and here - for your amusement, delight and incredulity - are just a few of them. I hope, after reading mine, you'll make me feel a whole lot better by telling me yours. It's easy: you just pick anything you've never done but don't normally admit to, some otherwise obligatory experience that's somehow passed you by, anything that might make your friend's jaws drop when you admit to being in ignorance of it and own up.
Here are a few of mine. I've never seen:
Downton Abbey, or
Friends (I'm like, 'I've soooo not seen friends?' and she's like, 'Oh my God, no way have you not seen Friends!')
Neither have I read a Thomas Hardy novel. (Although I have listened to Tess of the D'Urbervilles on audio cassette, an awfully long time ago.)
I've not been to the USA.
I've never eaten oysters. (Actually, I've tried them... just never liked them which is unusual as I'm quite keen other shellfish). Nor have I been mountain-climbing, hang-gliding, paint-balling or go-carting.
But perhaps most embarrassing of all, perhaps the most candid revelation of the lot and possibly the point at which you may need to catch hold of your jaw, I've reached the ripe old age of forty-something, done a few things not many people manage to do and lived a reasonably full life, yet I've not ever even been close to, or within spitting distance of seeing... Star Wars.
Any of them.
Ever.
And judging from the amount of jaw-dropping there was on Saturday, I think I must be the only one.
A brief conversation about the programme followed and it was then I thought, why should they - the slebs - have all the fun? There's loads of things I haven't done (or seen or heard or read or tasted) and here - for your amusement, delight and incredulity - are just a few of them. I hope, after reading mine, you'll make me feel a whole lot better by telling me yours. It's easy: you just pick anything you've never done but don't normally admit to, some otherwise obligatory experience that's somehow passed you by, anything that might make your friend's jaws drop when you admit to being in ignorance of it and own up.
Here are a few of mine. I've never seen:
Downton Abbey, or
Friends (I'm like, 'I've soooo not seen friends?' and she's like, 'Oh my God, no way have you not seen Friends!')
Neither have I read a Thomas Hardy novel. (Although I have listened to Tess of the D'Urbervilles on audio cassette, an awfully long time ago.)
I've not been to the USA.
I've never eaten oysters. (Actually, I've tried them... just never liked them which is unusual as I'm quite keen other shellfish). Nor have I been mountain-climbing, hang-gliding, paint-balling or go-carting.
But perhaps most embarrassing of all, perhaps the most candid revelation of the lot and possibly the point at which you may need to catch hold of your jaw, I've reached the ripe old age of forty-something, done a few things not many people manage to do and lived a reasonably full life, yet I've not ever even been close to, or within spitting distance of seeing... Star Wars.
Any of them.
Ever.
And judging from the amount of jaw-dropping there was on Saturday, I think I must be the only one.
September 19, 2012
International Book Week
It's International Book Week (apparently) and here's a game for us all to play. Take the book nearest to you right now, turn to page 52 and write down the fifth sentence on that page as a comment.
Mine is: 'Do I deserve to ever be a mum?'
Actually, this is from the second-nearest book as the nearest to hand didn't have a page 52 and if even it it had, it wouldn't have had five sentences on it.
Ok, your turn...
Mine is: 'Do I deserve to ever be a mum?'
Actually, this is from the second-nearest book as the nearest to hand didn't have a page 52 and if even it it had, it wouldn't have had five sentences on it.
Ok, your turn...
September 16, 2012
Sunday Supplement
It's back-to-school today with the first Sunday Supplement of the new season, an eclectic round-up of stuff that we've been sent to try starting with a handy little gadget designed to save some of the £s lost each year when school uniform and equipment goes missing.
The Brother P-Touch Labelling machine is as easy as can be to use and has about as wide a variety of cassettes as you could possibly wish for. You can label just about everything, from clothes to video cassettes. I used the fabric cartridge to make super little labels for all Charlie's uniform. Even better, I didn't need to sew them on! The only drawback seems to be that some of them have already started peeling off. Maybe the iron wasn't hot enough. I'll have another go and report back.
What is (distinctly) hot enough is this new Philips Avance infuser grill... 240 degrees C hot enough, to be precise. That'll sizzle your steak nicely, and if you want that smokey barbecue flavour you can add wood chips to the little egg-cup sized receptacle and barbecue in the warmth and comfort of your kitchen. (It's electric, in case you're wondering... plugs into the mains although it does create a bit of smoke - you might want to keep your cooker hood open with the fan going!) I know it's not strictly 'back to school' but this indoor grill has all the advantages of keeping the barbecue season going long after the sun has slipped below the horizon before you're home from work. And I'll be saying a bit more about this little device in a later post.
Should the Indian summer linger you might, of course, fancy another go at the real thing - in which case a compact, light and biodegradable EcoGrill might be the answer. Ignited within twenty minutes and giving over two hours cooking time, this outdoors accessory made from an alder wood surround and filled with alder charcoal burns down once you've finished cooking to become your camp fire for the evening. Just remember your matches. Ging, gang gooly!
Of course, you've got this far (if you're reading at all) and started to wonder about trade-descriptions, misrepresentation, deception and false information. But let me tell you, back-to-school means making the most of the last of the summer weather, pretending - at weekends - that the holidays aren't over as much as polishing school shoes and pulling up socks.
But to get back of track for a moment, and to get personal, I can't leave the school-run theme without mentioning the new Britax B-Agile stroller. Given that my school-run now involves negotiating narrow pavements and avoiding aforementioned obstacles (see past post) whilst both propelling and steering a buggy with one had and keeping tight hold of the newly-promoted schoolboy Charlie with the other, I was only too keen when Britax suggested I try this new lightweight pushchair.
Even before use I was impressed: impressed with how quick and easy it was to set up out of the box. Next I was impressed with how simple is was to fold: the easy one-handed pull-fold mechanism is certainly handy (pun intended) when you're holding a baby in the other; finally (and most importantly for me) it's a dream-ride (or push) on the school run, the lightweight aluminium chassis so manoeuvrable that the only thing you've got to worry about is putting the brake on when you want to stop moving!
It comes with CLICK & GO® detachable adaptors so that Britax's baby-safe infant carrier, sleeper or carry-cot can be attached to the chassis, making it a travel system suitable from birth. And folding down to a neat 600mm by 800mm it's a travel system you can travel with.
That's all for now, folks. They'll be more in a fortnight, including steam mops and a sodastream.
Have a great Sunday!
September 14, 2012
The League of Gentlemen
I had an interesting PR email yesterday. You know, not the normal stuff about giving somebody a free plug and pretending you've not been asked to do it but something really rather interesting. To me, anyway.
It came from a sock seller (that's not the interesting bit, although I did notice that this particular purveyor of fine footwear followed the Henry Ford philosophy - any colour as long as its black). No, the interesting thing was a survey entitled 'UK Men Have Forgotten How To Act Like Gentlemen' and claiming that 'overwhelming numbers of men do not abide by even the very basic standards of etiquette.'
Well, there's the sound of a gauntlet being thrown down if ever I heard it. (Talking of which, did you know that the Lord of Scrivelsby in Lincolnshire - just slightly north of where I live - is the Queen's official champion, obliged - as have his family for centuries - to pick up any gauntlet thrown at Her Majesty's feet and fight the offender in a duel? No, I didn't think you did.)
Here are some more choice snippets:
Only 4% of men would be willing to give up their seat for a pregnant lady or elderly person.
46% of men admitted to spitting in public
Only 40% of men held doors open for ladies on a regular basis
Only a shameful 4% of gentlemen claimed that they never swore in public
Ah. Now, that's where it gets a little, well... You see, I like to think of myself as possessing at least some vestige of gentlemanly manners. I was brought up to say 'please' and 'thank you', write handwritten notes of gratitude for birthday presents (sorry, incidentally, to those who haven't even had so much as a spoken word of thanks on the telephone for my recent birthday presents... you know who you are!). And in spite of the fact that it has, at times, caused some slight embarrassment, I do like to hold doors open when I can. (Which is usually when I'm not struggling one-handed with a pushchair whilst simultaneously trying to guide Charlie through a shop door.)
But my feet are made of clay. You see, I'm afraid I'm firmly in the 96% who can't claim never to have sworn in public; in fact, I'm often guilty of swearing and don't know quite what to do about it. Contrary to the rather prissy admonishment in the sock company's email that swearing only succeeds in 'showing that you have a distinct lack of vocabulary and an inability to express your thoughts appropriately' I rather think of it as a full and frank embracing of the language - especially the Anglo-Saxon bits. I quite like swearing.
But I would never spit. And yet many people do, from footballers on the pitch to people round here on the streets. (Honestly, the game of avoiding the gob is second only to steering round the dog poo on our route to school.) And I would always - if I can, and if its required - open a door and give up a seat. And I had no idea, no idea at all, that I was part of such a small minority.
So, what do you think? Ladies, would you be offended if I held open the door, walked on the outside of the pavement or offered you my seat?
And gents (if I may thus address you)... are you?
It came from a sock seller (that's not the interesting bit, although I did notice that this particular purveyor of fine footwear followed the Henry Ford philosophy - any colour as long as its black). No, the interesting thing was a survey entitled 'UK Men Have Forgotten How To Act Like Gentlemen' and claiming that 'overwhelming numbers of men do not abide by even the very basic standards of etiquette.'
Well, there's the sound of a gauntlet being thrown down if ever I heard it. (Talking of which, did you know that the Lord of Scrivelsby in Lincolnshire - just slightly north of where I live - is the Queen's official champion, obliged - as have his family for centuries - to pick up any gauntlet thrown at Her Majesty's feet and fight the offender in a duel? No, I didn't think you did.)
Here are some more choice snippets:
Only 4% of men would be willing to give up their seat for a pregnant lady or elderly person.
46% of men admitted to spitting in public
Only 40% of men held doors open for ladies on a regular basis
Only a shameful 4% of gentlemen claimed that they never swore in public
Ah. Now, that's where it gets a little, well... You see, I like to think of myself as possessing at least some vestige of gentlemanly manners. I was brought up to say 'please' and 'thank you', write handwritten notes of gratitude for birthday presents (sorry, incidentally, to those who haven't even had so much as a spoken word of thanks on the telephone for my recent birthday presents... you know who you are!). And in spite of the fact that it has, at times, caused some slight embarrassment, I do like to hold doors open when I can. (Which is usually when I'm not struggling one-handed with a pushchair whilst simultaneously trying to guide Charlie through a shop door.)
But my feet are made of clay. You see, I'm afraid I'm firmly in the 96% who can't claim never to have sworn in public; in fact, I'm often guilty of swearing and don't know quite what to do about it. Contrary to the rather prissy admonishment in the sock company's email that swearing only succeeds in 'showing that you have a distinct lack of vocabulary and an inability to express your thoughts appropriately' I rather think of it as a full and frank embracing of the language - especially the Anglo-Saxon bits. I quite like swearing.
But I would never spit. And yet many people do, from footballers on the pitch to people round here on the streets. (Honestly, the game of avoiding the gob is second only to steering round the dog poo on our route to school.) And I would always - if I can, and if its required - open a door and give up a seat. And I had no idea, no idea at all, that I was part of such a small minority.
So, what do you think? Ladies, would you be offended if I held open the door, walked on the outside of the pavement or offered you my seat?
And gents (if I may thus address you)... are you?
