Administration Day

I am ending the year with some administration.  Paperwork long left lying about has been put to use, calls made and services amended.  Among them is the change from 'TalkTalk' to 'BT Sport' so I can watch Scottish football legally and with a clearer picture than before.
The need to phone Mumbai to speak to someone who does not speak clear English is a nuisance no matter how well educated and willing they may be. Several times I failed to understand her speech, and she sounded irked by this, I know why as I often have that trouble with the folks here.  Still all went through and within the next month bit 'TalkTalk' and 'BT' will work together to cut me off from the web for a long period of time!  Quite when this will be I know not, but it will happen, won't it?
I have run several devices to clean up the laptop and it actually worked! Several things run faster and I suspect I have also mislaid one or two things on the way. I certainly pressed 'block' on one item when I meant to press 'allow' and now I canny unblock the thing!  I can look at email when half the page is missing I suppose.  
Now I note a new calendar lies awaiting my touch.  This one has those old pictures with word balloons added, you know, "I want to open a joint bank account." "Who with?"  "Whoever has lots of money."  It is a woman asking by the way.  Now I must go through this marking in all the birthdays, especially the ones I forgot last time.   Checking carefully to see just how many of these scurvy knaves have given me two dates for their birthday.  That has happened before.  
This calendar is OK in many ways but has two irritating aspects.  One is the unfortunate habit of beginning the week on a Monday, I always begin on Sunday.  The other is the holidays, they are all US! Who needs to know about 'Independence Day?'   Bah!  However with the birthdays marked in I can now forget about them until the time.
The thing about birthdays is the demand to send a card.  So when I can I buy a bundle of suitable cards and store them for the day.  On the day naturally none of them fit the recipient.  They are either all for girlies or all for men of action, the word 'action' need not be taken literally.  So once again I trek round the three or four places to find cheap cards and by the end of the year I have a bundle unused in the desk.  Mind you I have been known to reuse Christmas cards for birthdays, if I am not fussy why should they be I reckon?
The citizens of Edinburgh will be well into their midwinter celebrations by this time, even though midnight is still hours away.  Hogmany will be a big party for many and I suspect somewhere in Leith Mr S. is handing out the households cash via the bar of the 'Sarry Heid.'  In this dark land the area quietens, until the fireworks at midnight that cause so must pain to the town's animals, then a few drunks will despoil the place but most will remain quiet, apart from the ones punching one another 'up the throat,' an activity that has become commonplace after closing time these days.  The reason is simple, there are too few police now, the Tories have cut them and late night revels and punch ups are left to the idiots to sort themselves.  
I am heading for bed come what may.  In the past we went round folks houses having a drink and a party, today Hogmany appears more concerned with drink than party.  The ability to drink without endangering yourself or others is noted less and less it seems to me.  The 'First footing,' the whisky, the 'Black Bun' was all part of things then.  It still is but it appears to me listening to folks that life has changed greatly in the last twenty years.  The days of yore saw parties, conversation and much laughter, although the Latvian's amongst us could not half knock back vodka!  Not me, then or now! I reckon that is the stuff that has kept them going well into their eighties.  Ban it and they might disintegrate. The harder edge to the world has lost much at this time. 
The outside world has gone strangely quiet.  Few cars pass, no one walks, no talk, no cries from the brats in the park, nothing.  They must be rushing home to watch sad TV or are filling the pubs, and few will 'first foot' as they have no idea what that is here.  That reminds me, I musts secure that door...
   

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Life Returns

After another two calls to Mumbai this morning, I cut the call off by accident myself the first time, I was convinced by a pretty young Indian lass that all would be well. Yet again this was an operator who had to stick to the script!  She did very well and was only perturbed when I asked where she was.  "India," she replied somewhat confused as people are not supposed to leave the script and she was more troubled when I indicated 'India' was a big place. Possibly she thought I might visit, fat chance, however she was somewhere I didn't quite catch, near Mumbai. Lunchtime and the Internet ceased once again and a noise outside forced my nose to the window.  There I beheld, and almost enfolded in my arms, the man from BT fixing the wires on the telegraph pole outside my window. Later, with one or two blips as he played around with the connection back at the exchange, I was left with the normal slow speeds that I have come to expect from 'Pipex,' or 'TalkTalk' as we must call them now. I checked my mobile phone for cost.  I have £3:62 left on the phone, (Virgin, 'Pay as you go') and I reckon there was about £16 in it to begin with, but cannot be sure!  Whatever, today's calls cast about £7 in themselves. Good job that phone was filled up some time ago when rich! Maybe I will once again compare prices of these ISP's. Still, all is well now and I no longer have to go outside and talk to real people.  



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Now I am not one to Complain but,

So after the e-mails I phoned using my dying mobile phone. I ensured I charged the battery as I expected to listen to "Your call is important to us," several times before getting anywhere.  This indeed occurred and starting from being "Seventh" in the queue I soon moved up to "2nd," although I was beginning not to care when the man in Bangalore answered. We went through the whole thing again, he following his script well, and in due course sent me on to the 'Technical' people.  I can well understand a need for one to remove all the simple fault, check the connections, pay your bill etc, so I happily (ha!) waited as the music played.  What the music was I know not, the sound distorting on the phone, although it may have distorted over the ten thousand miles it was travelling of course. Eventually a lovely young Indian women cheerfully and pleasantly went through the script and tested the line.  "There is a fault on the line," she told me helpfully, and asked of she ought to call my mobile while she did what she had to do. I had informed her the battery would run out but happily (again) decided to wait the "two or three" minutes this would take.  On minute later the battery died!  She never called back, I fear to do so especially during the day, and I have now no idea if the thing will be fixed or not.  The staff were indeed friendly and efficient but I wondered how they cope with strong accents?  I speak clearly to such as they, my time in London taught me this when dealing with 'Foreign Johnny's,' but upset folks from Newcastle or Cornwall may not be so considerate!  At the moment the Internet works, but does collapse at busy times or stops for no reason, the phone remains dead.  Ah well another 24 hours may well explain it all, possibly. 

   BBC

As I type my spelling mistakes I am listening to the 'BBC Democracy Live' programme offering live debates from the UK House of Commons.  I like this site as it allows us to watch Parliament at work both in the House and in Commons Committees.  We are also offered the Scots Parliament, Welsh Assembly and the European Parliament (for what that's worth) and within a few minutes we can find live, or recorded, all our politicians lying in their teeth in every part of the nation and indeed in Europe!  This is indeed a find!  The debates never vary, the government defends, the opposition attempts to pick faults, the 'other side' is always in the wrong and facts are used to support any argument! The best occasions are when the House is almost empty and a Bill, of major or minor importance, is being debated by those with a particular interest in it. Often these can be knowledgeable or just plain funny!  The wit and friendliness of many debates are rarely reported however I find some better than the usual TV offerings. Others of course debate long and hard on Bills of major importance and very serious indeed.  Today we debate the NHS, "The other side was at fault." "Oh no it wasn't, you are."  Money amounts, in the millions, are quoted by both sides, but in the end we know the Tories will kill of the NHS if they can, and the 'other side' (Labour) want to save NHS costs also.  In the end we lose out as hospitals close, queues lengthen, and those office workers I once worked amongst still squander millions with no thought for patients anywhere!  What is the answer?  The Tories want to sell it, Labour keep it (Tony Blair would sell it also as he is well off!) but cut costs.  In short none of them know what to do!  In the end ideology, not facts, will tell.

Turner painted this in his 'impressionist style. Some tell me his paintings like this of the later part of his career are fabulous but I wonder?  I went to the gallery some years ago and saw many of his pictures 'live' and it appeared to my mind that in the end he had just got to much yellow and white paint delivered and didn't wish to waste it. As each was produced they became more or less white and yellow mixtures with added darker blobs. On a decent day I get similar experiences simply by removing my glasses.  This does not give me an 'impression' of the world around me it just leaves me falling over litter bins and park benches.  While I admired much of Turners work and I love the bright colours of such a painting I must wonder if it deserves the respect it receives, although much of that comes from fawning critics who don't wish to be different from the crowd. I would rather see the train, the sky, and the colours.  My twisted and perverse brain can accommodate these and supply a suitable impression when required. What say you?

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The Day Dawned Brightly...

How soon before it all goes wrong?


Not long!
Rotten day, foul mood, tired, aching, and the oven does not work.
Luckily I am using the microwave and electric rings mostly at the moment.
Worse, the Broadband keeps cutting out!  Horror of horrors!  How can I live with no Broadband?
However after fiddling with the plugs the Broadband works, slowly.  Too slowly at times, and it was not fast to begin with.
But the phone is dead!
I never call unless I must, and I must log in the replacement credit card by phone, and it is dead.


How do you call when you have no phone to call with?
I e-mailed the only address I know and immediately received a reply stating I must go elsewhere!
I did, and filled in the form, hopefully the right one, and by the time I finished both engineers will have gone home. (I say both because there can only be two, and one is off sick, as they are slow!)
'Pipex' have sold out to 'Talk Talk,'  who have a bad reputation, so I am wondering if anyone will be there to read this ( and I am typing slowly so the Broadband does not get flustered.).


Now I am tired, flustered, anxious, and staring into the abyss - again!


It's being so cheerful wot keeps me going!



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