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Posts Tagged ‘thoughts’

The truck that couldn’t be unloaded

April 3, 2015 Leave a comment

I’m sure if you work in the construction industry this will be a familiar story. But it happened yesterday and I’m still slightly bemused by it.

We’re changing some of the back garden around and part of the process is installing a new path. This involved ordering 3 tons of gravel (well, technically not gravel but Cotswold stone chippings) for the path itself. When it arrived, it was loaded into large 850kg bags on pallets.

Previously we’ve had this kind of stuff delivered by a lorry with a crane, and it’s just craned over the front garden wall and onto the front garden. This time it was a curtain-sided lorry and one guy with a pallet trolley, the kind that slots into the pallet and has a handle you pump to raise the pallet off the ground. Whoever loaded the pallets, presumably with a regular forklift, had placed the edge of one pallet onto the corner of another. One couldn’t be moved because of the additional weight and the other couldn’t be moved because the pallet trolley couldn’t be slotted into it and jacked up to raise it.

Oh, and another bag was a problem because it was loaded on one edge of the pallet.  It was almost impossible to shift because whichever side you approached from, you were lifting an uneven load that just tipped the pallet trolley over. It was considerably more difficult than, say, transporting a coffin on a bicycle (which I have done: don’t ask). The fourth bag – the pallet itself had broken and the pallet trolley wouldn’t fit under it until we’d done a quick and dirty fix with hammer and nails.

Solutions could have included shovelling the gravel off the lorry into a pile outside the house (would have taken at least an hour, possibly two); splitting the bags and sweeping the mess off the side of the lorry; and probably a few others. We’d then have needed to get the gravel off the road and pavement. The driver called his firm, who weren’t very interested. Presumably they figured this would empower him by encouraging him to use his initiative. The solution, though, was just to refuse the load as undeliverable and ask them to bring it again, properly loaded, this morning.

That happened. Unbelievably (to me anyway) the load arrived back this morning in another truck – but the tailgate lift wasn’t working properly. A segment of it was out of line with the rest, and raised up enough to stop the loads being trollied onto it. Again, it was almost an hour of messing with the equipment to get the stuff off the lorry.

If anyone wants to know what’s wrong with British industry, I guess this is one clue (no doubt there are many others). Give your workers the equipment they need, preferably in functioning order and without the need to spend stupid amounts of time doing ad hoc fixes to make it work.

Chainsaw conversation

November 18, 2014 3 comments

I was talking to someone today (while I was out walking the dog) who’d been using a chainsaw. He’d started off a week or so ago just taking a couple of branches off a tree, and then more and more of the tree disappeared day by day.

‘The thing is,’ he said ‘using a chainsaw is addictive. Once you make a start on sawing something, you get enthusiastic and then just get carried away with it. Once you’ve finished, you’re looking for something else that needs a chainsaw taking to it. Then, after a while, you’re wondering where the hell you can bury the bodies.’

I’ll bear that in mind…

 

 

Poetry, or something like it

August 31, 2014 Leave a comment

Poetry isn’t my thing, really. Flash fiction, stories and so on, yes. Poetry no. If you don’t like it as poetry just think of these two things as flash fic. Or blame Stevie Smith for inspiring the first one, if you remember her ‘Not Waving But Drowning‘. Though mine isn’t as good. Oh, and yes, they’re about real people. But you don’t know them.

 

1. Waving/drowning

He’s waving but drowning
Sinking in crashing and speedy surf.
He wants to be saved.

From the sea? From himself?
He waves like he’s giving the finger.

I swim against hard swell.
He fights as if his life depends on it.
As if it’s all he’s ever known.

On the beach exhausted, wet and cold
I watch him cough water, spit blood,
Recover strength.

Soon he’ll stand and walk
to the end of the jetty
Jump in again. And wave.

If this is a test, I’ve failed.
If he’s testing himself, it’s to destruction.
If I try to save him again
Both of us will drown.

 

2. Hydrocortisone

We all die sometime
But medication speeds the process.

She needs enough to cope with the stress
But enough is too much for her body.

The medicine helps her stay together
When tragedy unfolds around her.

And yet it makes her fall apart.
Her skin grows fragile, and bleeds.

What will happen when it’s as weak
As a dried-out leaf in autumn?

 

British values?

July 8, 2014 1 comment

I’m late to this particular party because I’ve been distracted by other commitments and events including a couple of deaths in my wider family. That’s to the good, though, because I’ve had some time to read, reflect and research.

What follows is a commentary on the idea of ‘British values’. It’s prompted by the ‘Trojan horse’ episode a couple of months ago, in which it was alleged that four schools in Birmingham (and ultimately 21 schools in total) that already had substantial proportions of Muslim students had been targeted by radical Muslims who were planning to gain majority representation on the schools’ boards of governors, and put pressure on the schools to adopt a range of Islamic values and practices.

A subsequent investigation concluded that the evidence for this allegation was fabricated; but also that there were other cases in which such plots had occurred. It also concluded that some schools had already and willingly gone down this route – to the point that some schools with a majority of Muslim students had expunged almost all traces of Christian influence; they were for example unable to provide teaching of religious education to Christian students.

All this led to a more widespread debate about ‘extremist’ influence in schools, the extent to which it’s appropriate for any school to be operated on the basis of religious rather than secular values, and other matters I don’t particularly want to comment on here.

However it also prompted the Education Secretary, Michael Gove, and then the prime minister, David Cameron, to fulminate about the need to ensure that schools promote ‘British values’. Policy proposals followed quickly – there’s a story on the BBC website about this and one in The Guardian (19 June 2014) that will get you somewhat up to speed on these. I don’t particularly want to to comment on the policy issues either, but they do give me a point of departure for the post.

What exactly do we mean by ‘British values’? Because my instinct says that:

(1) like other terms such as ‘popular culture’, the idea of ‘British values’ only looks coherent from a distance. As soon as you start to investigate it close up, it’s suddenly a lot more messy.

(2) any ‘officially approved’ list of British values is going to be as complete and coherent as the idea of ‘officially approved’ art, or ‘officially approved’ pop songs. In other words the idea of a government telling us what British values are is inherently idiotic.

It’s a long discussion and, unusually for me, hits on quite a few political themes. So if you’re interested hit the ‘read more’ tag.

Read more…

It’s later than you think

January 4, 2014 1 comment

Oh right. So it’s been about 4 months since I was on this blog. Time goes quickly, huh? I’ve been busy instead doing the kind of writing that earns me an income. But I thought I’d just do a roundup of a few things that have been occupying my headspace recently.

Personal goals for 2014: be irascible and swear more. Why not? I’m old, or feel old anyway, and I don’t have the time to mess around.

At New Year I caught Jools Holland’s New Year TV thing and it wound up, as I think it usually does, with the Guy Lombardo song ‘It’s Later Than You Think’. If you want the full lyrics they’re on Metrolyrics.com, and the 2013 Jools performance is on Youtube (the elderly trombonist, incidentally, is Rico Rodriguez – one of the living legends of ska, if you don’t already know that. He’s a bit shaky on the performance but dammit, the guy deserves respect). The song’s a hurry-up call to do the things you want to do before you’re no longer in a state to do them. And for all I know it’s later than I think.

Apart from that, Christmas Eve was somewhat spoiled by this:

Poisoned meat

Poisoned meat

When I first saw it in our local woods, I wondered if it was the result of some occult rite. The woods local to me do have a few people from time to time who are prone to marking out pentagrams and such, and doing late-night ceremonies. On the other hand, as best I can gather from the cans they leave they’re mainly doing them while drunk on cheap lager and (probably) trying to emulate stuff they’re seen in horror films. They’re essentially harmless (because I, erm, know other people whose take on pagan beliefs is rather more effective).

When I got close, however, my dog wouldn’t touch the meat, which seemed to be ox or cow livers and hearts. Some other dog walkers came along and their dogs wouldn’t go near it either. Dogs have a sense of smell, you see, and they probably figured it smelled funny. Someone else who came along had a sniff and reckoned it smelled of arsenic. One of us who had a carrier bag gathered the stuff up and took it away to be disposed of. I keep a good lookout now in the woods for anything that looks like this, hidden under trees. We all have some suspicions about who might have done it, and also figure they’d thought no one would find or disturb the stuff over the Christmas period. But dogs need walking every day… And if they were after foxes, which have a sense of smell similar to dogs, they’d have been unsuccessful anyway. They’d probably have killed the local owls and some woodland birds, though. And, yes, poisoning wildlife is a serious offence in the UK. If you come across any suspected incident of an attempt to poison wildlife, Natural England has a dedicated helpline and and a Wildlife Incident Unit whose inspectors will investigate. To report the suspected poisoning of wildlife or pets call: FREEPHONE 0800 321 600. The RSPCA also has a useful website with contact details.

Oh, and dog walkers – you know the thing in murder mysteries about how dog walkers are often the people who find bodies and such? That’s because our dogs need to be walked and in a big chunk of countryside, dog walkers are the people who are out there from early morning to late evening. So the chances are, anything from dead bodies to poisoned meat or flytipping, it will be a dog walker who first finds it.

There are plenty of other things locally to get irascible about, and plenty in the national and international news that also make me want to puke, preferably over those responsible for various government stupidities. But there’s also this, which made me scratch my head. Under the headline ‘Destruction of ancient woodland “highly unlikely”‘ it turns out ancient woodlands probably won’t be destroyed by changes in planning and development laws. Or at least, lost trees could be replaced by planting more elsewhere in a process known as ‘biodiversity offsetting’. Don’t get me wrong – offsetting is a decent enough policy, but in relation to ancient woodland?

A spokesperson for the Department of the Environment is quoted as saying the idea of using offsetting to replace destroyed ancient woodland is ‘very hypothetical’. What does that mean, exactly? That ancient woodlands won’t be destroyed in the first place? Given local experience with the way developers seem to be able to get their way through threatening to bankrupt local councils due to the legal costs of fighting a planning appeal, I’d say ‘very hypothetical’ probably means no one is planning to build on ancient woodland for at least a couple of months.

And what part of ‘ancient’ woodland, and the biological significance of it, is not understood by government people who deal with offsetting policies? Using offsetting in this situation isn’t ‘very hypothetical’, it’s impossible.

I’ll find more to be irascible about shortly.

A sharp issue

September 18, 2013 Leave a comment

A couple of days ago I was out walking the dog. We were on a main road, heading towards the meadows where I usually let her off-lead to chase sticks. And we found a slightly hysterical woman with two small dogs and a toddler. The reason for her hysteria was that her toddler had just tried to pick something up off the ground, and then she’d seen what it was: someone’s shooting-up kit – a couple of used syringes, one with a needle that looked like the end of it had been seared with a cigarette lighter or something.

Yes, of course there are places where heroin users leave their old needles and such, but it doesn’t happen round here – or at least that’s the first one I’ve come across in a couple of years of living here. And the neon green of the plunger inside the syringe did make it the kind of thing a toddler could be attracted by.

Long story short: since I have a dog, I carry plastic bags with me. So I carefully picked up the kit without touching it, took it home and found a tin to put it in so I could safely carry it for disposal. But yesterday, disposal was surprisingly difficult. The local pharmacy said, disingeuously I thought, that they don’t have sharps disposal. I can’t imagine why any pharmacy shouldn’t have sharps disposal since they issue and accept needles for people who have a range of medical conditions. My doctor’s surgery did take it, but only after I explained the whole situation to them and they finally accepted that removing a used needle from a public place where a toddler had been at imminent risk and other people and dogs could hurt themselves on it wasn’t an unreasonable thing to do.

Then I asked what I should have done. Their reply was that I should phone the local council street cleaning department, identify the location to them and they’d send  out someone with a sharps box and armoured gloves. But it might take a day or two. My thought was that in that time, either someone else (or a dog) could injure themselves on it, or it could just get kicked around by careless passers-by and be lost.

It wasn’t so long ago that advice on finding used needles was to do pretty much what I did; pick it up safely and dispose of it at any pharmacy, surgery, or any other place that had a sharps disposal facility. True, I initially picked it up and carried it in a plastic bag – in an ideal world I would have had something more secure, like a plastic or metal container, though it was in one of those within a couple of hundred metres.

I’ve just checked online and the current official advice is, actually, what the surgery said: not touch it and inform the local council’s street cleaning or waste management team.  I can see the logic of this in terms of health and safety for the person finding the needle; and I guess any council that says ‘Just pick it up safely’ could open themselves up to legal action. But this seems to be a situation where doing the ‘right’ thing also seems to create risk for other people in the meantime. It seems to be a small example of the way everyone is increasingly treated as incautious infants rather than responsible adults who can recognise and deal adequately with risks at their own discretion.

Faith in human nature?

September 7, 2013 2 comments

We recently bought a new campervan – well, not exactly new, it’s almost 20 years old.  So we decided to sell our old one, which is smaller and now 10 years old.

This has resulted in a string of people turning up to look at it.

This has become rather tedious, because according to the visitors it has severe rust (yes, it has some but it’s cosmetic). It also has severely corroded brakes, a master brake valve that’s leaking (the ‘evidence’ is there’s some oldish insulation on it), a broken suspension, illegal tyres (they’ve all been replaced recently), and numerous other major faults including the plastic end caps on the side body trim – which cost about 70p or $1 each – being  too old. Oh, and someone told us in all seriousness that the wheels are ‘too round’.

About two-thirds of the people who’ve turned up only want to use it to do ‘fishing trips’. What they want to use it for doesn’t really matter to us; and it doesn’t explain why when a pair of them turn up they discuss how much profit they can make when they resell it. Nor does it jive well with them having trade plates in the back of their car, which are only used by motor traders.

Some have tried to bargain on the basis that it will cost them money to take it to a garage to get X, Y and Z fixed. But then they let slip that actually they are mechanics.

Several have claimed to only be passing through, and live 50 or more miles away. They make a one-time offer based on the fact they won’t be passing by our door again. So why are they driving a company van that usually has a local business name and phone number on it?

One went as far as claiming the inside of the van was damp and would take major repair. He ‘proved’ this by bringing a ‘damp meter’ out of his car and showing us the needle flicking into the red when he touched probes to some interior metalwork. It spoiled the illusion that the gauge on the meter went to 12 volts – in other words it was just an electrical multimeter that demonstrates metal can conduct electricity, and he wouldn’t take his hand off the front of the meter to show it to us.

So my conclusion is there are a lot of people out there prepared to lie and some who will play tricks to try to get things cheap. Which is not, I suppose, a very earth-shattering insight. I’m not any more cynical now than I was before (I always was cynical) but the experience of having to deal with this stuff on a daily basis for the last couple of weeks has proven just a little wearing. I’m just glad I don’t buy and sell old vehicles for a living, and I don’t have to get used to it as a long-term issue. Even though we still need to sell the van.

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