| Take the National(ised) Express... |
[Nov. 14th, 2009|08:17 pm] |
Big news in the rail industry at the moment is the renationalisation of the East Coast Mainline, after National Express managed to cock up running it in a most spectacular fashion. It shows how utterly crazy transport policy is in this country - the ECML has seen two franchise holders fail in two years, despite almost every train being wedged full of passengers, in many cases paying through the nose for their journeys. The route makes huge amounts of money, at least in theory - but two franchise holders have more or less gone bankrupt running it.
When it was first privatised in 1996, GNER took over and did a spectacularly good job. They were almost universally admired and did a lot of things right. They recognised that British Rail had done a pretty good job and adopted an "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" approach. They adopted a stylish and traditional livery and image, and provided superb customer service. Things went a bit wrong when the franchise was re-let. GNER kept hold of it, but the government decided they wanted vast amounts of the cash the line was making, and encouraged bidders to offer huge premium payments for the privilege of operating it. GNER promised to pay around £1bn to the government over the course of ten years to run the line, which raised a few eyebrows, but times were good and people thought they'd manage it. However, within a short space of time, energy bills shot through the roof, and GNER's parent company, Sea Containers, ended up in serious financial trouble. They couldn't keep up the payments, and effectively had the franchise repossessed, although the government recognised they'd done a good job and let them keep it until National Express were ready to take it over. Lots of people were sad to see GNER go, and I was one of them - I liked them a lot.
National Express were desperate to win a premier franchise - they'd lost quite a few, and stopped at nothing to get East Coast, bidding even higher than GNER, using a business model that needed growth of 10% a year. Insane! Loads of people said it was at the time, and lo and behold, along came recession and National Express were completely screwed. The whole National Express empire is in a mess, and they officially gave up in July. The government has refused to renegotiate - quite rightly so, because all the other franchises would demand easier terms if they did - but they remain culpable by setting up a franchise system that encourages such stupid behaviour. Richard Bowker, the boss at National Express who sanctioned the stupidly high bid, has sloped off to run a railway in the United Arab Emirates, and Lord Adonis - the first transport minister in years to actually know what he's talking about - has hinted strongly that NEx will never win another franchise again. They still have two that are making money, but Lord Adonis has hinted they will be taken off them - it's a classic illustration of what's wrong with the franchise system when a franchise holder can keep hold of profitable lines, but can dump loss-makers with no real consequences. Apparently, National Express are liable for £72m by walking away early, but they leave a £1bn hole in the government's transport budget as a result of their idiocy.
Needless to say, things turned sour for National Express very quickly, given the downturn in the economy. Passenger numbers are still high, but growth has levelled off dramatically, and passengers are switching from first class to standard, and from open tickets to cheap advance-purchase ones. They immediately did very unpopular things like reduce catering, and introduced fees for seat reservations. It didn't do any good, though, and I think they're still surprised that the government gave them such short shrift. I'm glad they did, though - they messed up spectacularly badly and have been made to pay the price. I still don't see anyone trying to fix the franchise system, though - it's ridiculous that such a busy route should have bankrupted them. It's because it's been treated as a cash cow both by NatEx and the government, instead of being run as an essential public service.
Of course, now it's in government hands, there's no obligation for them to come up with huge premium payments, although the whole thing will still be expected to run at a profit. It's now headed up by Elaine Holt, formerly of First Capital Connect, who is well-known for being ruthless and hard-nosed. She's appointed another senior manager from within FCC, which is interesting - FirstGroup would kill to get the franchise when it's re-let in a couple of years' time. I sincerely hope that under state control the line does so well that people will resist it being privatised again, although we're almost certainly about to get a Conservative government that will privatise everything in sight, including the Royal Mail, the NHS, schools, Network Rail etc. The Conservatives are, of course, responsible for the bulk of the stupidity in the rail industry. Labour have fixed a few things here and there, but have largely failed to address the real problems, and now it's far too late for them to do anything about it.
National Express are desperate to try and salvage something, and clearly they took the marketing database with them before they handed East Coast back. I got an e-mail thanking me for travelling with East Coast, and offering me a 50% discount on my next coach booking. Nice try - I absolutely loathe coach travel, and I shan't be taking them up on it. Meanwhile, the East Coast website has sprouted new logos and promises of a new dawn - including scrapping of the reservation fee and improved catering. I'm keen to see what will come of it - I hope it's good. It may just begin to convince those at the top that rail privatisation has been an enormously unsuccessful and wasteful experiment that we should just consign to history. |
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| "I am a nerd. I associate with other nerds." |
[Nov. 14th, 2009|05:35 pm] |
For the first time in ages, I had a seriously disturbing nightmare last night. Images from it aren't going away, and it's freaked me out a bit. Unusual - my dreams are normally incredibly bland and far too difficult to remember. Let's just say there was a lot of gore in it.
Having gone back to using my HTC TyTN II a few weeks ago, I decided I could live without my Touch Pro, a phone supposedly better that has done nothing but infuriate me since I acquired it. The only thing any better on it is the screen, and possibly the slide-out keyboard, but everything else was stupidly crap, and I never really took to it. Not a problem, because Mazuma Mobile, a phone recycling company, are currently offering more for the Touch Pro than I paid for it in the first place, so off it went. Abby posted it on Thursday afternoon, and this morning I got an Argos gift card loaded up with cash in return. Talk about quick! It's going to turn into a Freeview Plus box ready for when we move. Cable isn't available at our new address.
Initially this bothered me quite a lot - I confess we like cable and all its bells and whistles, and we get broadband and a landline from Virgin as well. However, looking back at our bills, I realised it's cost us an absolute fortune over the years. It's really, really expensive, and may be handy, but it's not really good value. I just never bothered doing much about it, because I never needed to. But dropping it will save us a lot. As we may only be in our new place for a short time, we're not getting a landline, and that's not a problem, because both of us have mobile tariffs with free minutes coming out of our ears, and we're getting a T-Mobile 3G broadband dongle for internet access. I'm aware it won't be as good as what we have now, but it's all incredibly cheap compared to our current set up, and as I won't actually have a job when we move, that's important.
Keeping with the technology theme, I've been making a lot of use of the Psion Series 5 I acquired from Freecycle. I'd forgotten how lovely Psions are. Admittedly they're a bit long in the tooth these days, and the TyTN II is, at least in theory, WAY more powerful and capable. But...pure performance aside, the Psion remains years ahead of its time in other ways. The TyTN II has a slide-out keyboard that is just about usable for typing chunks of text, and it also has Pocket Word, Excel etc. - but they're very cut-down and crippled versions. Usable, just, but not great. Compare that with the amazingly good Psion keyboard, and an office suite that's almost as good as the ones you'll find on desktops - seriously, Psion Word and Sheet are amazing programs. The Psion also has amazingly powerful object embedding, and almost out-Windows Windows in this respect. The Psion Agenda application is amazingly good too, and craps all over the fiddly bugger that is the Windows Phone calendar. The only significant thing missing from the Psion is the location field in appointments, but that's not a problem. If I need to use that, I can use my phone to create the appointment, and it will sync with Outlook on my PC, and the Agenda on my Psion. It just strips the location out on the Psion, but keeps it on the PC and phone.
PsiWin handles PC syncing. It's now a pretty ancient piece of software and I don't know how well it will keep working on newer PCs and OS-es, but it works OK for now, and can convert Psion documents to PC formats. The Psion is an amazing thing for writing on while out and about - the keyboard is unsurpassed on a device so small. While the Eee is quite easy to use on the move, and has the advantage of Wi-fi, the battery life is lousy and it's still quite big to lug about. The Psion runs for up to 20 hours on one set of AA batteries, which is a month of typical usage! The price to pay is a rather gloomy and not very clear mono screen, but hey, the prettiest device in the world is crap if it needs tethering to a power point every five minutes.
The Series 5 isn't as good as the later 5mx for connectivity, and sadly it's now pretty difficult to go online with them. It has IrDA but no Bluetooth, and finding an IrDA phone that works with it isn't easy now. The web browser available isn't up to modern standards at all, and the e-mail application doesn't support SMTP authorisation, which just about every ISP now needs. There's a workaround for it, but it needs a massive Java application that hogs a huge amount of memory and needs massive amounts of nerdy setup using text files to get it working. More trouble than it's worth. So...for connectivity, the TyTN II wins hands-down, and of course, it's much better for web browsing, multimedia and texting etc. But - for loads of stuff, Psions rock. It's tragic they pulled out and didn't keep developing their PDAs. They're AMAZING machines. The Series 5 design is twelve years old, and in some ways it shows, but in others - just wow. The thing is incredible, mainly because the built-in software is just awesome. It would even give the iPhone a run for its money. |
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| "I'll just put you on hold..." |
[Nov. 12th, 2009|04:58 pm] |
I've spent a lot of time on the phone to the bank and the insurance company today, and I have to say it's been a totally joy-sapping experience. The levels of bureaucracy, pedantry and general twattishness I've faced have been astonishing.
It's not really fair of me to lay into the staff I spoke to, because they're fairly low down the food chain, and they did seem to do the best they could. I tried hard to be nice to them as well, because you can bet that loads of people will be horrible. Ultimately, though, it was hard to hide my exasperation.
For the bank, I have to sign a form and return it to them. Normally they'd post it, but it needs to be done quickly, so they said they'd fax it to me.
This fills me with horror - fax machines are truly the tools of Beelzebub. I've never come across one that works properly. I helpfully suggested that maybe the documents could be e-mailed to me, so I could print them, but no - despite the fact that they must exist in electronic form somewhere, they had to be faxed.
Faxed.
Even the railway industry, which is technologically years behind others, has more or less abandoned fax technology. We have a fax machine, but it's some distance from my desk, and I didn't fancy it spewing out loads of my private details while I wasn't there, so I got Bank Phone Lady to wait until I was standing next to it before she sent the documents. Zilch. Zip. Nada. All that I could see, beneath the layer of dust covering the machine, was a cryptic error message, featuring, appropriately, the word FAIL. However, according to Bank Phone Lady, it was sent OK, so no doubt my personal details will be spewed out some time when I'm not there.
In the end, I had to get them to send the documents by fax to the bank around the corner, so I had to go out and get them.
Gaaah! I've had access to e-mail that could have done this for the past 14 years!
Anyway...I've got to sign the document, get Abby to sign as well, and then fax it back. My local library can do this - I think I'll get them to fax it multiple times to make sure it all works.
I then had a rather fruitless and pedantic discussion with Insurance Phone Man, attempting to work out if I have what's needed to rent my new house. I think I do, but because the insurance company and the letting agent both use different terms, I can see trouble brewing.
I sometimes think this is what Hell is like. I don't think there's any pitchforks or flames - I think it's a permananent, never-ending bureaucratic nightmare, eternally dealing with administrative cock-ups, lost details, being put on hold, annoying muzak, malfunctioning fax machines, lost baggage, customer retention departments, harrassed and indifferent staff with no ability to deviate from the script, small print, no record of that conversation etc.
I think that's punishment enough for even the most revolting human being. |
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| When my frenemy is my friend |
[Nov. 11th, 2009|11:43 am] |
I had coffee with Mrs Tuna Taco, it was her idea, we had a great old time having a laugh about things, talked about work and ambition and partners and church and curates and future plans, and ooooh. It went on for ages, so easy and straightforward. Perhaps she's not such a Taco of the Tuna variety.
*Sigh*. Three years of being in a state of armed peace. Was it my fault all along? I don't forgive easily, I bear grudges, I become suspicious. I haven't gone out of my way to make an effort.
Still - her husband and her best friend both still blank me, so ...... oh I don't know.
It seems sad when you can get on well with someone, that there's all this angst growing out of it all like some unwelcome fungus. |
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| Fnarr! |
[Nov. 10th, 2009|05:43 pm] |
Abby and I had to go and see our solicitors this morning, to show him proof of ID and address. Something to do with proving we're not money-laundering, apparently - so there you go. Just as well I'm not a Russian gangster or something.
The solicitor's office is on the first floor of a large office building containing several companies. A sign in the lift told us that the firm on the second floor was called "Climax", which appealed to the particularly infantile Beavis-and-Butthead-esque streaks in us. We were intrigued as to what went on there, so on our way out, I "accidentally" pressed the second floor button so we could take a peek. We thought it might be a front for something glamorous and sexy.
Anyway, the doors opened to reveal a completely empty and deserted office space.
Sometimes reality is very disappointing. |
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| Solid |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|09:34 pm] |
So, it's twenty years since the fall of the Berlin Wall. A hugely significant day, of course - and it's interesting in lots of ways to muse upon how the world has changed. Back in my early days on the railway in the mid-90s, I worked with an ardent socialist/communist, who was sad to see eastern European communism collapse. It was always better in theory than it was in practice, and some pretty horrendous things were done. I'm sure no-one in the Eastern Bloc wants the Stasi, the Securitate or the KGB back...but then if you look at the fabric of society in places like East Germany, there was a hell of a lot to admire. Full employment, a sense of purpose, and public services that cost peanuts and gave people what they needed. We could probably do with a lot of that now.
So...happy 20th anniversary, Berlin without the wall.
Me in front of one of the surviving bits of wall in 2006
1969 film advertising the East German People's Car. Quick - get your name down for one! If you're lucky, you'll only have to wait fifteen years!
You might prefer a Wartburg if you need to transport 57 footballs, though. Decisions, decisions.
Anyway, life carries on being full of HOUSE MOVING CHROS but we seem to be getting there gradually. Does anyone know the best way to transport a goldfish 400 miles without killing it? I know the odds of its survival are fairly slim, but my little fishy does seem to be ausdauernd und robust, so I'm hopeful. I've got a big jar with a screw-top lid that I'm thinking will be the best thing to use - I'll just take the lid off now and again to keep the water oxygenated.
I've succeeded in getting Android up and running on my TyTN II phone, which is interesting, because the phone is designed for Windows Mobile and was not built with Android in mind (even slightly). The display under Android looks a bit odd but it does all work, more or less. Not sure I'll use Android on a day-by-day basis, but it's fun to experiment with, and can be launched easily from within Windows Mobile. A soft reset gets Windows Mobile back again, so it's more or less dual-boot now.
The Android web browser is very nice indeed, actually, so I'm tempted to make quite a lot of use of it.
I'll leave you with some pictures I took when I was last in Linlithgow a couple of weeks ago. I'll be back - oh, yes.
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| You are not always "among friends" on the internet. |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|05:32 pm] |
One of my local friends, on Facebook, has started a discussion about a charity and how the school are taking part in a charity that apparently have evil evil evangelical practices abroad. And so lots of people have joined in the discussion, variously calling evangelism "Bible bashing" and "bullshit" and there's an expectation that every right thinking person on that Facebook page will agree.
Well, I don't agree. I don't agree with the intolerance and the name-calling, for one thing. Possibly there's a good point to be made about the charity and their evil evil evangelical practices.
But sometimes it riles me, the way people expect that they are "among friends", once again I'm the ghost at the feast, the one unhappy face among a lot of smiling faces all united in their hatred. Hmmmmmm.
Oh well. I've learnt my lesson, I will say naaaaathing, and I will seek to hide that friend and her news and the discussion.
I've learnt that one of the friends of the friend, Mrs Blank Me, is a keen partaker of the lovely world of Mumsnet. Figures!
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| Postcards |
[Nov. 8th, 2009|08:42 pm] |
As you can imagine, life is a little chaotic in our home right now - we're moving in less than two weeks, and we have large amounts of assorted crap to deal with, pack, throw away etc.
While clearing out a cupboard, I came across a big envelope stuffed full of ancient family photos and letters that I shall have to return to my mum and my aunt at some point, who have been deemed the rightful owners. So...I did a bit of scanning this afternoon. Of particular interest were a couple of postcards written in the summer of 1923.
Front
Back
The addressee here - Eileen - is my maternal grandmother, and the card was from her mother Louise. Eileen died when my mum was only seventeen years old, so I never met her, but Louise survived until she was well into her nineties, and my sister can just about remember her, but I was born too late for that.
The San Remo is a hotel in Eastbourne, a seaside town about sixty miles from London, and a popular holiday destination. A quick tour around Google shows that it is now called the Royal Parade Hotel, after the street it's in, but it was called the San Remo until around 2002, and I found a picture that shows it still looks more or less the same. I'm assuming the picture on this card was the residents of the hotel at the time, and that it was sold as a souvenir for the guests.
Front
Rear
This card was sent a couple of weeks later, and recipient Mrs. King was in fact the writer of the first card. Turns out the San Remo was a popular destination! I asked my mum who Mr and Mrs Stevenson were, but she didn't know, so they're not relatives - they must have been family friends. I assume Kitty was the Stevensons' daughter, and a friend of Sybil, who was Eileen's sister and my great aunt. She died some time in the mid-eighties, and I do remember her.
Anyway, there you go. I love old things like this - a little glimpse into an ancient past, wondering who all these people were and what they were doing. It's a little insight into where I came from, something I know precious little about. |
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| Writer's Block: Just another manic Monday |
[Nov. 8th, 2009|11:35 am] |
I think it's been pretty common knowledge amongst my friends that I've loathed my job for a long time - the main reason being the utter boredom of it. It's reasonably busy, and at least in theory, the work should be interesting, because it's all connected with something I love - but it's not at all. The boredom is absolutely spirit-crushing. I'm not made to be a desk monkey - that's the problem. I expected it to be much more hands-on than it is.
Still, I leave in two weeks, and I certainly know what sort of work to avoid in the future.
I enjoy weekends because I can spend them as I want, rather than as someone else tells me I should. I think this is why I love the idea of self-employment, and will do a lot more looking into this when we've moved. |
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| LULZ! |
[Nov. 4th, 2009|08:38 pm] |
Abby has been contacting removal firms to find out how much it will cost to move all our stuff to Scotland. She got this e-mail today:
Dear MRS ABIGAIL OSBORNE
Thank you for your e-mail. We can confirm the cost for removal would be £23950.00 fully inc FOR THIS REMOVAL FROM YOUR CURRENT TWO BED FLAT BASED IN SW20 MOVING TO WEST LOTHIAN AS REQUESTED. THIS WOULD BE A DIRECT REMOVAL FOR YOU FULLY LOADING THE DAY PRIOR TO DELIVERY, IF YOU REQ FULL PACKING ADD AN ADDITIONAL £340.00 INC AND FULLY INCUDING ALL MATERIALS. WE CAN ASSURE YOU OF OUR AWARD WINNING, FIRST CLASS SERVICE AND G/TEE A STRESS FREE MOVE!!!!. Cost as per e-mail details. This cost includes 75k insurance. If a confirmed booking is made with us and you wish to do your own packing, we will provide 20 boxes free of charge, with free delivery and both large and small sizes are available. We can also provide additional packing materials such as bubble wrap, tissue paper and extra boxes at an additional cost. We can provide wardrobe cartons on the day of removal which is included in the price. Please feel free to call & discuss this quotation with us at anytime on [phone numbers]. If you need any more help / advice or information, or if your move is imminent & in the very near future PLEASE CALL US ON THE ABOVE TELEPHONE NUMBERS & WE MAY BE ABLE TO OFFER A SUBSTANTIAL DISCOUNT TO THE PRICE GIVEN IF IT IS A DAY ON WHICH WE ARE QUIET.
Twenty-four grand, eh? I did ask Abby if that included a gold-plated lorry. I wonder how much the substantial discount would be as well? She sent this e-mail in reply:
£23,950? Really? Do I get to keep the delivery van afterwards?
After that, we got the following reply:
DEAR ABIGAIL.
WE ARE VERY PLEASED TO CONFIRM THAT FOR THE COST OF TWENTY THREE THOUSAND, NINE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS, WE WILL GLADLY INCLUDE OUR FULLY EQUIPPED REMOVAL VAN (AND A PERMANENT SPARE MAN IF REQ) HOWEVER, IF YOU DO NOT REQUIRE THE VEHICLE AND THE (SPARE MAN) WHO (WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GET RID OF FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS) THE COST WOULD BE A MERE SNIP, AT TWO THOUSAND,THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY FIVE POUNDS, WHICH WOULD OF COURSE, PROVIDE YOU WITH A FIRST CLASS MOVE(BUT WE PREFER THE FORMER SO AS TO BE ABLE TO CALL IT A DAY AND RETIRE TO SPAIN) KIND REGARDS, [removal company]
LULZ! What a great sense of humour! We had such a good laugh at this, but did realise that even at a mere ten percent of the original quote, it's about twice as much as some of the other quotes we've had. Still, it sounds like we'd have fun if we booked them. :) |
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| At last... |
[Nov. 4th, 2009|04:49 pm] |
After more grief and stress than you can shake a stick at, we have finally exchanged contracts on the sale of our flat.
It's been a nightmare getting here, but we can get on with our lives at last.
We move to Linlithgow, Scotland, on the 21st. |
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| Scuttling |
[Nov. 3rd, 2009|08:40 pm] |
www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00nqbkb/Life_Fish/
Just watched "Life" with David Attenborough, the nature-botherer of good repute. What I want to know is, how does he know that a fringehead is sarcastic? During filming, did he get chatting to one, and did it impress him with its dry, sarcastic wit? I bet it didn't, because it's a fish. That's right. A fish. Oh the anthropomorphisation of nature documentaries, it vexes me strangely.
Apparently mud skippers like to dig a hole in the mud and they have an airtight chamber at one end of it where their eggs grow. And the mud skipper swims under a U-bend to fetch some oxygen which it brings back to the eggs in order to keep them thriving. David Attenborough describes this as a "demanding lifestyle". Which made me imagine a fish with a drawling Surrey accent, "Yah, I did some travelling after university, and then met my wife and settled down and she laid about a thousand eggs. We have them in a lovely little secluded chamber with south facing views. Now I spend several hours a day trawling back and forth carrying oxygen to my eggs. It's very demanding, but you know, the eggs are what it's all about, aren't they? We do it all for them, and I have to say it keeps me jolly fit. Specially now I haven't got the time to go to the gym any more. Pass the white wine, dear, there's a good girl."
They do it all for the eggs.
Bless.
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| Writer's Block: Relive in the moment |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|11:43 pm] |
Seriously, this is an utterly pointless thing to ponder. Whatever we could have done differently, it's too late to do it now. Wherever you are in life, you can only go forwards. Brush yourself off, learn from the past, and just keep moving...don't spend ages pondering what might have been.
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| Neus |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|10:31 pm] |
I've had a very stressful day, basically caused by enormous frustration at other people not doing stuff, and there's not much I can do to make anything improve.
Still, things will get better, and this time next week (hopefully) I'll be out of this frustrating headspace.
I went swimming this evening, as physical exercise is a great stress reliever. While I was there, I caught sight of the hairiest man I have ever seen. He literally looked like an ape.
I was a bit scared. But it amused me.
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| Up and down. |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|08:06 pm] |
Still no formal confirmation of our plans *sigh*. We are going to find out hopefully on Wednesday. Husband still hasn't heard about his job. *Sigh*. Just want to move to Scotland and get our teeth into the next phase of our lives.
Bible study today was quite inspiring. But we did discuss being a good witness, and drinking. One person talked about Christian neighbours being a bad witness and drinking, and another member of the group said that we all have sins, some hidden and some seen, so she wouldn't want to judge the drinking ones. I always feel a bit devil's advocate and want to say something like "Jesus showed some shocking behaviour at that wedding at Cana, what was he thinking turning water into wine? Good job we're all holy enough to show Jesus how it's done." It's funny how holiness to some people means pointing and tutting and sighing. And feeling self-righteous about how they don't do x. Where x is a sin that doesn't tempt them. But here am I being judgemental about judgemental people, and someone else will come along and judge me for being judgemental of judgemental people and then we'll all disappear up our own fundaments in a wisp of smoke. You can't talk about this stuff without passing judgement, it's like you can't see yourself in a mirror with your eyes closed, it's not going to happen, so let's just be open about it.
I've been in a pub with a non-Christian friend and the only mention made of religion is when she said "And I'm supposed to be a good Catholic!" in my direction. So, she feels like she's wrong and shouldn't be drinking, and I'm this beatific Christian Judge Dredd in her eyes, sitting there not drinking much and not really saying very much either way. I am a coward. There's many things I could say, like "Don't project onto me all the Catholic judgemental types you know cos I'm not them" but that would turn a throwaway fun remark into the doldrums of a deep and unwelcome religious discussion, and who wants that down the pub? But maybe I should, I don't know? Maybe I should try and say something light and hearty and yet and at the same time insightful and Biblical, and she'll be down on her knees asking Jesus into her life before the next glass of champagne, I don't know. I'll never know until I try, haha!
I would have liked to talk about the fact that I had that funny discussion with Paul about the vampire drama, but I know that I couldn't admit to that crowd that I watch the vampire drama, it's drenched in full-blooded sexinicity and they'd all turn pale and face the east. And that's a shame. I know I can watch a vampire drama and not want to go out there and commit sins of the flesh myself, but it's hardly behaviour to be encouraged and it might be a bit too strong a meat for a weaker believer to cope with. So, the upshot of it is I ought not to be watching the vampire drama at all. But if I watch it, I've got something I can talk to Paul about. We don't have many points of contact between his life and mine and that's one so I'm loath to give it up. So I guess I compartmentalise, I tell people some things about my life, when at Bible study, but not all. It's probably as it should be. But I think it's sad, too. We all have minds like steel traps, ready to clamp down in judgement upon each other. It's a shame.
Anyway it was inspiring because I liked discussing how to be good wives to our husbands, how to be submissive and gentle in terms of seeking to win non-believing husbands to Christ, and just generally thinking about how to be more holy in our everyday lives. I wish I was holier. I wish I wasn't so critical. I tend to think if I had more Christian friends who I could really be honest with, I wouldn't be so bitter about so many aspects of Christian living. I don't tend to be able to keep Christian friends, and I bet when I move I will disappear off the radar of most of the Christians I know. Christians are terrible at staying in touch. Whatever individual things I offer in my friendship, once I'm gone, can be easily replaced by the next Christian and in a big church there's plenty to go round. I'm like a pane of glass, once it's cracked you just put in a new one. I used to rage against this, I still struggle with it in terms of Bible study group retention - like, people come to the group and then leave in a huff and I spend ages like an idiot trying to maintain the friendship even though all they want to do when they see me is bitch about my church's shortcomings. I guess the thing to do is to let them go, with a beatific smile upon my chops. And once I'm gone from my church in London, I guess I will be forgotten, and its place will remember it no more and all that. And I'll be somewhere else making new friends in a new church. So, it's not a case of pouting over how insignificant I am, it's a matter of retaining the decent friends I have and not sweating the small stuff.
It's been an up and down day because of listening out all day for the deafening silence of my mobile not ringing. With two more days of neon question marks hovering over my head as I go. But my God is an awesome God. I firmly believe things are going to work out.
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| So long, farewell, etc.. |
[Nov. 1st, 2009|09:06 pm] |
At church today we started telling people that we've got two Sundays to go and then we're making like a tree. And splitting.
I told one woman, and she hugged me, which was nice. It's also slightly problematic because I don't like hugging and I get all nervous in social situations where I can see a hug looming over the horizon towards me. I've done a few weeks in therapy about it, the upshot of it is, I'm not so hung up about explaining this about myself. I didn't today though.
I love my church a bit like family. I mean, I left my blood relatives at eighteen, became a Christian at nineteen and have attended that church on and off since I was twenty, so that's fifteen years of watching thirtysomethings become hoar-headed fortysomethings, their little poppets turn into galumphing teenagers, and teens into adults who visit once a year at Christmas. I taught some people Sunday School there who are now about three feet taller than me. When I started at that church, I met one sister of three from the same family, and she had a pastoral role and since then I've got to know both her sisters, one of whom is a Bible group leader and the other is the woman in charge of the women's work ie the pastoral side of things. They've been there for me over all these years. Not close friends, but always very hearty acquaintances, and I've heard all their trials and tribulations, children doing exams, sick mother, etc. If London is a big anonymous metropolis, church is the opposite, it's a village where you grow up and your children grow up, and you're interested in people's destinies. It's shocking to think of leaving them all behind and starting again somewhere new. But it has to be done.
My nephew is apparently upset about our move, so we're not supposed to talk about it to him, so I'm all a bit scratchy of head now, because I don't want him thinking we left out of some dark mystery or I don't want him thinking it's his fault and we don't want him any more. I'm going to miss the hell out of him. He and my children have been like siblings over the years. I want to take him with me. I won't see him that often once we have gone. I hope he will come and stay for holidays, but he'd better have a good time or else he won't be back, I guess, and my mother in law doesn't ever make him do something he doesn't want to do, so we will have to keep him sweet. Hmm.
Tomorrow promises to be the motherlode of stress factors bearing down at once from all sides. For self and husband. Hope to get through the day without recourse to strong water. "Looks like I picked the wrong month to quit amphetamines!"
Please say a little prayer for us.
Moving house is stressful isn't it? I wish someone had written a book about "how to be a family with a nine year old and a seven year old with guilt tripping relatives and how to move them without too much trauma and how to be an adult in a country you grew up in but left at eighteen" cos I'd read it cover to cover and enjoy all its hints and tips.
Scottish politics, yeah. I've not spent the last seventeen years getting Scottish newspapers delivered: I have no real idea about Scottish politics - I'm going to have to take a crash course. My Mum's cousin in Sheffield is Scottish and she has had the Glasgow Herald delivered every weekend in order to keep abreast of things. Why didn't I think of that?
I read a repellent article in the Guardian at the weekend. I don't want to read it again cos it will annoy me too much. It was by a very angry seeming woman going on about how evil the Scientologists are and saying how bad it is that only cults need to provide proof for their beliefs cos mainstream Christians should too. And then she made a mistake, in that she employed the supposed voice of a famous journalist, and imagined him attacking a Christian for believing in kerr-azy things. She did that typical thing where you respect someone and you thus assume that that person must share your beliefs (in this case, atheist). Well, I happen to know that said journalist is a Christian, and I used to teach his son in Sunday School. So he wouldn't be attacking Christians for their kerr-azy beliefs cos he holds them himself. I suppose I could write a complaint letter and out that famous journalist as a co-religionist, but who knows, maybe he's in the closet about his faith. But it left me quite riled. If that journalist who wrote the poisonous hate-piece wanted to say those things she should say them herself rather than reimagining it through the mouth of someone else. And where does she get off assuming everyone is an atheist like herself? Never mind.
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