Visitors' Book

There has been some discussion as to why no-one comments on any of my blogs ... so I invite everyone and anyone to leave a quick "hello" (or more) as proof that I'm not faking the visitor counter and that people are in fact visiting even if for a split second!!

I may of course end up being mighty embarrassed!! Let's see ...

Swastika Shopping

I may sound a little controversial here but what is all the fuss about a swastika found on a handbag at Zara?

Yes, I realise that the swastika was the symbol of the Nazi's but for thousands of years before Adolf decided to adopt it, it was used, and is still being used, by many different faiths around the world.

Hindu's and Buddhists I definitely know about, but apparently it is also used by Northern European pagans (the hammer of Thor); Roman pagans (on Roman coins and tombs); Early Christians (everlasting life); Jains (their seventh saint); Falun Gong (Wheel of the Dharma - a Chinese cult before you ask and nothing to do with Lost as far as I am aware!); Masons (Mystic Cross); Esoteric philosophers and Occultists!

I can appreciate that now the swastika is synonymous with Nazism & fascism but at what point do we allow the symbol to revert back to it's original purer uses. I have personally seen it used at a home in a bunting style on the front door. I can appreciate that this is the correct use of the symbol and am not going to refuse to enter the house until it is torn down and burnt!

Yes, to many the symbol is still too raw a wound. But there are many others who have encountered similar atrocities and have moved on. Were the moors terrified of the Christian cross during the crusades? If I found a burning cross in my front garden I'd know it's the KKK that have visited and not the local group of Jehovah's witnesses calling card! Should we ban the cross for this reason? At what point do we look at the context of it's use rather than the bare symbol itself.

So ... lets figure this out ... Do we think that those who still use the symbol, added it to a flowery bag they were making for a pittance, to give good luck and blessings to the person who bought it!? Or is it more likely that in some tiny sweat shop somewhere on the Indian continent, a skin-headed Nazi fascist, sat in a conveyor belt style of production sewing on swastikas, peering over his shoulder and hoping that no-one would notice?

Parking meters tick me off!!

What is it about parking meters?? The companies obviously realise that no-one willingly parks their cars at a parking meter and so have thought up an ingenious way of making the most of the occasion.

Today, I had to dash Goldie off to the vets after spending two days trying to get rid of a tick. At first I thought I'd pull it off ... but he squealed the house down when I went anywhere near him ... and so did Goldie. So I moved on to Plan B .. Kill it with Frontline combo and then pick it off in one fail swoop.

24 hours later and the blighter is still hanging in there, waving it's little legs in the air at me. Goldie scarpers every time he sees me as he begins to equate hurt with my presence.

48 hours later and it's still alive and taunting me by hanging on for dear life with teeth that it's borrowed from the world strongest man. I've spoken to the vet, read several articles and a couple of Internet video's and feel prepared to get rid of this unwelcome hitchhiker.

Unfortunately, the tick has other thoughts ... He resists any attempt to remove him and me being rather squeamish, can't bear to hear Goldie's yelps of pain as we play tug of war. I throw in the towel and call in the cavalry, the vets. I dash down and as I'm already late for work, I decide to cough up and park as close to the vets as possible rather than parking 5 minutes down the road for free. And this is where I get ticked off.

"30p for 20 mins, 60p for 40 mins & 1.50 for 1 hour," it declares. What bloody nonsense is that? Why not just 50p for half an hour and £1 for an hour ... no ... it has to involve you finding at least two coins for each transaction!! This of course cunningly increases the chances that you are not going to have the correct change.

So I reach into my bag and find a £5 note, a £2 coin and 50p. Great ... So I pop in the 50p and hope that it will calculate the overpayment and allow me extra time or provide me with change. The machine bleeps, "20 mins" is displayed, although no message about change being dispensed! Bloody great ...

In order to get rid of one parasite I am having to be bled by another! I curse at the machine and it spits out my money with an "aborted" message. What the ...!!

I take a deep breath, kiss my 50p goodbye and press the green button. I run into the vets and after a short wait, she slowly but surely tugs the tick off using a green contraption. I console myself with the fact that it took her three attempts before the tick decides to let go and prepare myself for the more painful experience of paying the vets fees.

"What's the damage?" I ask the receptionist ... She peers at her computer, looking confused and then strains her neck in for a closer look. "The Vet hasn't charged you ... it was free" she says slightly bewildered, to my hastely retreating figure.

Gorilla's in the chocolate mist

If you haven't seen this already, I'm not going to spoil it for you ... If you have enjoy!

A Rise in Public Confidence - Count me in!

Had to travel by public transport today and leave the car behind. I was petrified. It wasn't just a normal trip down the jubilee line ... it was a tube ride, followed by a train ride, followed by a bus ride to get to Kingston. Tried my utmost to get out of this meeting but was glad I went in the end.

Watching the news every day leaves you with a sense of loneliness in London and a "they are all weirdo's and violent maniacs out there" attitude. So the prospect of having to travel on public transport was a little menacing at first. After my panic attack subsided, I mapped out my journey and figured that if I dropped Zoo off early and got to Wembley Park by 8.10am, then I'd be fine.

Of course I didn't plan that my alarm wouldn't go off, or that it was an event day and I couldn't get parked within two miles of Wembley Park tube. So I returned home and running already 20 minutes late prepared myself mentally for a bus ride. Had to ring Cream for moral support and to check which bus I needed and had to cough up an astounding £2. (Yes I know ... before you mention Oyster, I have two good reasons not to use one ... 1. I safely stored my Oyster card somewhere so I wouldn't lose it and now no longer know where it is, and 2. Work will only reimburse travel expenses with a ticket and receipt.)

Anyhow I nervously got on the bus and realised I had no idea where it would drop me off and tried to catch the eyes of the sanest looking person on the bus. Found one girl who was prepared to meet with my eye and she even politely removed her headphones to check what I was muttering about.

At the station, after having been disgusted by the cost of the 20 minute bus ride, I almost fainted at the £13.50 cost of a return, but managed to get onto the platform and into Waterloo in what seemed like no time. I jumped onto South West trains and again nervously checked I was going in the right direction and finally reached Surbiton where a very nice rail employee directed me to the busstop that I needed and the lovely bus driver provided me with a lengthy but accurate detail of where I should get off as several passengers patiently waited to scan their oyster cards behind me.

Having arrived at my destination with 10 minutes to spare, I contemplated how people took similar journeys every day to work and just what a sheltered life I lived with my ten minute solo commute to work.

On the journey back home, I had summonsed up enough courage to strike up a conversation with an elderly lady, a Japanese tourist and a suited commuter whilst we all waited for the 83 bus. I probably spoke to more people that day than I had in the last month and it was actually a pleasurable experience. So if you spot a crazy woman on public transport asking for directions, it could well be me!!

Shark Bait & Mangoes

What is it with Pakistani politics? Like sharks who can smell a drop of blood from miles away, Nawaz Sharif has sniffed out a weakness in Musharraf and decided to fly in from miles away to see if he could bite off a piece of power. There has been a lot of talk of Benazir Bhutto in talks with Musharraf about returning to Pakistan. Heaven forbid that Bhutto get there before him and manage to eat a three course meal and leave him nothing but leftovers to dine on.

Anyhow it seems that Sharif seriously miscalculated just how wounded Musharraf was and after 90 minutes of refusing to leave his plane, eventually conceded defeat as he was deported to Saudi Arabia.

Now this is very different to a bout between Cameron and Brown at PMQ's. Where the worst that can happen is you end up with egg on your face. Pakistani politics is life threatening. The only country in the world that I know of where your life can be ended with an exploding gift box of mangoes.

Suspicious behaviour?

I know I've written about the McCann's before and I'll be honest I would have hoped by now that they would have found Madeleine's body. I know that sounds awful but at least the parents would have had some closure.

What has happened yesterday is a nightmare. It is intriguing to think that the Portuguese Police have some evidence that they think points towards the parents.

I watch too much CSI so I have always said that invariably it is the last person to have seen a missing person that is the main suspect. And I could never fathom how a major bit of evidence, the Cuddle Cat, was allowed to be carried around by the mother. You hear of cases where they find microscopic evidence months down the line so why don't they have this item in a lab somewhere being tested?

Anyhow, what I heard yesterday was the evidence seemed to be blood on the mother's clothes and in the hire car. I always love playing devil's advocate, so while most people at work were going down the "I knew something was dodgy about the whole case", I was playing the role of a celebrity lawyer.

The blood could be explained by the Cuddle Cat .. if Madeleine was holding this before she was abducted and the mother has had it ever since ... then transfer of microscopic evidence should explain this. And if it's a hire car .. who hired it before them? Is it conceivable that a local guilty person may have also hired the car to dispose of a body???

Who knows what the evidence is .. I now hear suggestions that the children were all sedated as well.

I must admit though that this case has shaken my trust in others. Cream and I do pop into the garden on occasion whilst Zoo is asleep in his cot, to put out the washing or pop something in the bin. The bedroom window looks out into the garden and we can clearly see the cot and Zoo from the garden.

Cream laughs at me .. but now I insist on locking the front door and putting the chain on if I am out the back ... just in case.

Bitten by a zombie!

Now I've been bitten by a zombie. Little did I know that this Facebook business was going to be so dangerous to my personal health with all the poking and biting going on.

Not sure what bugs bitten Cream .. he has spent most of the evening with his head down the loo ... Apparently a batch of dodgy grapes.

It's like watching The Witches of Eastwich!

I've been poked in the face ... twice!

Despite emails from various friends recommending joining facebook, I resisted. I went on and had a look but wasn't tempted by anything I saw.

Then I heard it had been banned at some workplaces ... and like the teenager who went out to buy Frankie goes to Hollywood record "Relax", I was strangely drawn to join, just to check out what all the fuss was about.

Well I joined two days ago and so far I have two friends and have been poked twice.

Hhhhmmmm ... "relax ... don't do it ..."