GrannyRant

Afternoon, Granny Calling……You know the type of telephone call you get on a wet Wednesday afternoon, from some numpty salesman, just out of short trousers, with a script that says “have you ever thought of getting an extended warranty on your XXXX”.

Whether it be your oven, microwave, car……you huff and puff, and um and ahh as you weigh up whether or not it’s worth the £6 per month? You have nothing better to do, so you let him ‘rattle on’ about the benefit of insurance and the fact that they will replace your XXXX if it’s lost, damaged or stolen!

Well, my significant other, got a nice Nikon Camera for a present a couple of Christmas’s ago and the one year guarantee ran out in December, so he decided, after listening to the nu….I mean nice young gentleman, that he would take the extended insurance, after all, new for old if it was lost, had to be a good idea…didn’t it?

So there he was, all set up with his insurance, off we went on our Canadian Adventure, when – on day 15, (as readers of my Canadian adventure will know) we got unceremoniously thrown from a raft and lost 3 cameras along with a pile of other stuff.

The next day, he dutifully rang Nikon Insurance and informed them of the ‘loss’ and the lady said, ring again when you are back in the UK and we will sort it out. We carried on with our holiday, safe in the knowledge that we had reported everything as it says in the bumph and that it would be sorted out, what could be easier?

We arrived home and on the first working day, he rang Nikon…and he rang…and he rang. After tens of phone calls and e mails, passes of the buck to other departments’ etcetera etcetera etcetera….we finally received a letter telling us

“we do not cover your camera for water damage”!

It was not damaged; it was lost to the Bow River! We reported the loss and you said you would sort it out! We wrote to you saying as much, but it was to no avail.

Now…..is it me? Would you say that when a bag gets swept away by a torrent of water, the camera was lost, or water damaged? We haven’t got the camera, we don’t know where it is, we don’t anticipate getting it back! I think you will agree, it’s well and truly LOST!!

We have been back from our holiday for over 2 weeks now and there is still no joy. The Other half has now cancelled the policy, they have sent him a refund of £41.00 and he swears he will never pay insurance again….What is the point?

Granny

Good morning, Granny calling……I am having one of those days, you know, the sort of day that starts out wrong. When you try to put the lid of the teapot on the kettle by mistake (and it falls in) and squirt hairspray under you arms instead of anti-perspirant. I loaded the washing machine put the powder in the wrong hole…you know what I mean, it’s not looking good…

It started when the first piece of toast jumped out of the toaster, white but dry, not even golden, more like stale bread than toast. I tried to butter it, tripped over the cat and yes..You guessed it the toast landed butter side down, with me swearing and the cat squawking because I had stepped on her toes. Valerie, my cat, was not having a good morning either. Having said that, she had slept well, on the corner of my bed, meaning that I had to sleep diagonally across the bed, which is probably why I’m now knackered and stroppy!

By the time I got the toast, I was running late, I had to drop my significant other off to the garage to drop his car off for servicing and then take him on to his workplace, which is 10 miles out of my way, so already I was all behind like a cows tail, the day is going downhill at a rate of knots!

At work, I parked my car in its usual spot, jumped out quickly in a shower, got my bag caught in the seatbelt and the contents proceeded to roll down the car park, lipstick, pens, plums and assorted furry sweets that have been lost in the bottom of my bag for eons. As I scrambled to pick them up, a very hospitable magpie deposited the remains of his breakfast all over the roof of my little car and half way down the windscreen. This was not just any old birdsh*t, this was Magpie Birdsh*t and boy was it ever sticky! OMG where will it end and it’s only ten past eight! I got some screenies and tried to wipe it off but it was like gravy browning, the more I rubbed the further it spread. I decided to let the rain do the job for me.

The rain, that’s another thing. My hair is now stuck to my head, the mousse that I applied when I washed it last night has turned to slime and I already know that when it dries, it will be rock hard and my hair will look like one of those plastic Elvis Heads you see at the seaside.

It is now 10.23am and I am having a tea break, but already I have jammed the photocopier, stapled my finger, stubbed my toe and broken my favourite mug…oh and I can’t remember if I switched the washing machine on, so the laundry is probably vegetating in the machine doing nothing….happy days!

Granny

Today, I am back on the weightwatchers’ plan after my holiday. I’m glad to say that during my holiday (all 4 weeks of it) I only gained 6lbs….RESULT! Eating pancakes for breakfast, drinking far too much delicious beer and wine, barbecues galore and still, only 6lbs!

Right, that’s the positive side of things. On the other hand, it just goes to prove, that 9as a yo-yo dieter all my adult life), I only have to stop eating healthily for 4 weeks to gain that amount of weight. So, if I retired and didn’t have to work, I would be on permanent holiday and therefore would be heavier than ever! Perish the thought.

To try and re-educate myself into healthy eating again, I am now eating cereal for breakfast, weighing very morsel, eating salad for lunch (with copious amounts of salt) and writing everything down. I am even counting glasses of water. I know this works for me as I lost 33lbs before my holiday but it is so difficult to get back to it and motivate myself to eat sensibly.

Anyone who has ever tried to lose weight will relate to that feeling, when you’ve lost enough weight for people to start noticing and telling you how good you look. I have been at that stage for months. The trouble is when you’ve gained 6lbs; no-one then says “oh, I see you started to gain again”! Well, they would be too polite…wouldn’t they, but that’s what I need now, to stop me getting a false sense of security and thinking, that I’m ok as I am, when I’m still at least 3 stone from the ‘healthy range’ and still classed as obese!

So, if you see me in the street, or if you want to say something on my Facebook Wall or on twitter, here are some suggestions of what to say;

• A moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips
• You are what you eat so watch what you eat
• Eating all your dinner does not help starving Africans
• Checking your portion size is not a sexual act
• Eating until you’re full does not mean, eat until you’re so full you throw up

I thank you in anticipation of your help, in my quest to be healthy and turning my body into a temple…..Granny!

According to The Guardian teachers will get tougher powers to deal with unruly pupils in a “zero tolerance” crackdown on nuisance in the classroom……..

Staff will be given powers to search children for mobile phones, music players, pornography, fireworks and cigarettes, extending existing powers that allow teachers to search pupils for knives.

Well, it’s about time some of the power was given back to teachers/lecturers, I know from experience the absolute terror of dealing with an angry teenager, who could threaten others in the group as well as yourself and then suddenly thinking, if I touch this person, I will lose my job!

As a new lecturer (around 10 years ago) my first experience of teaching a group, was with 15 level 1 hairdressing students. A nice group, 13 girls, 2 boys all aged between 16 and 19 years. I wanted to stamp my authority, while being fair, approachable and fun during the session. All was going swimmingly until I asked one grumpy looking student to stop using her mobile phone to text while she should have been practicing her cutting skills on a block (practice head). The conversation went along the lines of me saying, “you know it’s against class rules to use your phone during lessons, please put it away”. Her saying, ” who the F*CK do you think you are, I am 16 years old and you can’t tell me what to do!” Before I knew it she was holding a scissors 4 inches from my face and from the look on her face, she would stick it in my eyes at any moment! They didn’t prepare me for this during my PGCE course. I managed to calm her down and another student took the scissors out of her hand, but I was physically shaken and the girl was subsequently disciplined and expelled from the course.

My point in all this is that at the critical moment my actions could have been instictively to man-handle this obnoxious little she-devil and get her out of the training salon and what would have been the consequences then? There could have been an investigation, which may have resulted in me losing my first ever teaching post and who knows what else as a result?

After 10 years of working in FE, I have seen my fair share of angry teenagers and indeed adults and I have usually managed to placate the person and calm the situation down but the threat is ever present when teaching large numbers of people who are frequently using ‘cut throat’ razors and scissors. At 16 plus, very rarely are parents involved and on the odd occasion that they are, they will defend their offspring vociferously, while never once ticking them off for their behaviour. The attitude of far too many parents, is that they put up with this stroppy teenager and if you are prepared to teach him/her then you have to deal with it too.

Thankfully the majority of teenagers are absolutely fine. They are imaginative, motivated, polite and while having their moments, they usually realise themselves that you reap what you sow in this life and that respect is reciprocal. Those are the people that teachers/lecturers enjoy working with. The satisfaction you get from working with people like this cannot be under-estimated.

Unruly students/pupils who are a threat to the learning experience of others should not be tolerated and parents should support facilitators in their quest to turn their children into well adjusted, employable young adults. As Spiderman once said, “with power comes responsibility”, I would argue that with responsibility, you should also have power!”

I am no football fan, being born and brought up in the South Wales Valleys I was exposed to the other ball game. Rugby Union was the name of the game at my house and when Wales was playing the whole of my small village went silent apart from the sound of Fathers, Grandfathers and Sons shrieking at the Black and white TV with every pass of the ball and calling the referee names that cannot be repeated here. The one thing that stands out in my mind, is the passion that surrounded the game. These players played for little or no money and often trained after working shifts in the coal mines, the foundries and other manual occupations.

This was not only the case in Wales but was repeated all over Scotland, England and Ireland. They played for the love of the game, the pride in their country and the friendships built on discipline, respect and trust.

Turn the clock forward 40 or so years and look how things have moved on. Rugby players are now professionals, they earn money from playing and no longer have to work underground to support their families, progress indeed. That, however, is where the similarity to Football, the so called ‘beautiful game’ comes to an abrupt halt! Players earn rediculous amount of money, from a very young age. they have no respect for themselves, their team mates and certainly not the referees and official trying to police the games.

Rugby players know that if they were to act as footballers do they would be in the dog house from all sides, coaches, fellow players and fans. Referees are ‘wired’ for sound and you can hear the conversations, very rarely do you hear rugby players swearing or arguing with officials and if they did they have the sin bin to look forward to. They still have passion for the game and perish the thought that they would one day earn so much money that they would become spoiled rich kids with more money than sense.

After watching the farce that was Englands performance in the World Cup and even as a person who does not follow football, it was obvious that the team were not playing to their full potential. They were half hearted in their commitment and they left their loyal fans with a lot to be desired. They should be ashamed that they let everyone down, they should forfeit their fees and they should apologise to fans for their lack of professionlism and effort.

They could also do themselves a favour by taking a leaf out of the rugby book of life. Then maybe they would earn the respect of the nation…but I doubt they would ever be able to justify the obscene amount of money they earn whilst showing such a lack of respect for the game, the fans and the ethos of sporting behaviour…….Granny

Picture this, it’s someone’s birthday and you have to buy a really special card. You haven’t seen this person all year and you really want to push the boat out and post a card of distinction, not just any old card, but a £4.99 card with a lovely verse, you know the ones that are a bit like a small novel when you read them.

You pop out in your lunch break and forego eating your sandwich because it’s so important to send this card to your best friend in all the world. You take care choosing it, you read every syllable to make sure that it says exactly what you want it to say. You decide on the right one and take it to the checkout, you take care to keep it flat and ensure that you get back to the office with it in pristene condition and think about what to write on it.

Before you can write on it, you have to get it out of the bag and believe me this is not going to be easy! First you hold it up to the light to see where the little pull tag is on the plastic, you scratch a couple of areas that look likely to no avail. Calm down now don’t get into a fluster (you say this under your breath). You then realise that there is a sticky bit which opens like an envelope…phew, you breathe a sigh of relief, it’s going to be easy now, you can relax…..Or can you ?

You finally get this object of beauty out of the bag and sit back and admire it. It really was a good choice, she will love this card and I know she will appreciate the really gushy sentiment because she’s my best friend and we have been through a lot together. then…out of the corner of your eye you spot it (queue ‘JAWS’ theme music) the dreaded sticker, Oh No! It’s right over the top of the only bit of glitter on the card, if you rip it off it will take that glitter off with it. Breathe, ….that’s it.. inhale deeply, it should be easy, it says ‘peel here’ how difficult can it be?

You try to get the edge of your finger nail under the corner, no joy, so you get your staple remover gadget and try to get the pointy bit under it, it’s not happening. You ask 3 of your colleagues, one of who thinks she is the Goddess of sticker removers and you watch as she bends and twists your beautiful £4.99′s worth until it resembles a discarded newspaper from a litter bin.

Finally, you manage to lift the corner of the damn thing and you peel it very carefully until it’s off, never daring to breathe until the whole of the sticker is detached from the card and …yes….you guessed, all of the glitter and the little yellow bow, is attached to the sticker. By now the air is blue, you have to spend another £4.99 on a new card and it would be cheaper and far less stressful to just give her a ring and say happy birthday….so to all the ‘card sellers’ out there, stick your stickers up your proverbial A***………………….

Wimbledon, in all its ‘Britishness’ has come as a welcome distraction from the football this week. The prospect of sunny days, with overpriced strawberries and cream. Pimms on the lawn and hoards of fans cultivating melanomas on Murray’s Mound, (formerly known as Henman’s Hill). Spectators Mexican waving periodically, Her Maj on centre court with Sir Cliff, oh joy… Summer seems to have well and truly arrived. The curious thing is that the tournament began on the longest day of the year, June 21st, and thereafter the days will become ever shorter (perish the thought).

Johnny Mac sets about his usual flirting with Sue Barker in the commentators chair, while analysing, nay even dissecting every shot and the BBC airing something quintessentially British but using Americans more and more in commentary to heap praise on our mediocre players as they fall by the wayside one by one.

For weeks now the media have been whipping the nation into a frenzy of ‘Murray Madness’ and to give the man credit, he is our best hope for years! Yesterday, the newspapers carried stories of a ‘snub’ to Murray because he had been bumped off the Centre Court and had to put up with Court 1, well, he is only number 4 in the world and surely these things should be decided according to ranking. I’m sure he didn’t mind and even if he did, there’s nothing he can do about it. Speculation about bowing or not to the Queen was another issue, has anyone ever asked Her Maj whether she gives a hot about bowing or otherwise?

The whole point of Wimbledon in my mind is that it is another chance for us to be a whole nation, united in our appreciation of the almost gladiatorial way in which these people slug it out in soaring temperatures, drinking copious amounts of Robinsons Barley water and grunting louder and louder with every shot. The enormous amount of hard work that goes into training the ball boys/girls, watching the male line judges covering their crown jewels from the next 135mph serve and listening to the various Umpires from faraway continents trying to pronounce the names of some Croatian player.

Anything else just isn’t tennis!!

Imagine this, you wake up one morning and you are suddenly a ‘teenager’. You are no longer 12 but 13! When you went to bed last night, you were treated like a child. You woke up this morning and you are expected to behave like an adult…overnight! Oh, but you must still listen to what adults say, you still can’t make any decisions, you still have to put up with rules and regulations, except now you are expected to think like an adult and act like an adult, even tough you are still treated by your parent, as a child? Confused, well I know I was at this period in my life?

In their teens, kids experience a growth spurt that causes all sorts of problems, e.g. my son went from a size 4 shoe to a size 11 in 3 months, causing a financial headache as we struggled to afford new shoes every 3 weeks or so and his trousers always seemed to be a half mast. Some boys can grow by as much as 9cm a year and girls at a rate of 8cm a year. Is it any wonder that teenagers are awkward or clumsy and self-concious at this time? They don’t know from one day to the next what will fit them. Another problem is that as a teenager, your brain doesn’t seem to keep up with this growth spurt and hormones rage through your body causing all sorts of mood swings and attitude issues.

As a 15 year old I caused my parents all sorts of problems but the problems started much earlier. At 13 I was a nightmare to live with and can vividly remember screaming obcenities at my mother because she wouldn’t let me wear makeup to the school party! It seems trivial now but at that time it was a matter of life or death that I looked older than my years and it was for this very reason that I took up smoking! Rebellion was high on my agenda! My hair was down my back and was my Father’s pride and joy, so I got off the school bus and had it shaved off and bleached! I bought 18 lace-hole Doc Martin’s, stay pressed trousers and a Ben Sherman check shirt and became the first Skin-head in the village. My Mother almost fainted when she saw it and I got a clip round the ear and was grounded for a month until it grew back (my hair has been short ever since). Rebellion is nothing new as this was 1973!

My point in all this is that teenagers have always been the same and puberty has always been a problem so why do the vast majority of people over the age of 35 seem to have a huge problem with them? they are just the next generation of ‘Teddy boys’, ‘Mods’ and ‘ rockers’, aren’t they?

I am lucky I work with teenagers on a daily basis and I think for the mostpart I understand them but when I don’t I accept that they don’t understand themselves yet. At this moment in their lives, they are working hard internally and externally, on trying to ‘morph’ into the kind of adults that adults find acceptable and that’s a huge ask! If they make mistakes, often they are not allowed to forget and move on, anyone who ever made a mistake, (and I made loads), will remember this feeling of despair as your family heap on the disappointment and guilt, is it any wonder that they become disillusioned with adults?

So next time you feel like giving your teenagers a hard time, remember that not so long ago, you were the teenager and while these young adults should be guided and advised, a little bit of mutual respect will go a long way. Treat your teenagers well, they will one day choose your nursing home! Now that is a scary thought……..

So what is it that people hate about swearing, after all, you can say all manner of words, but if you use them in a certain way, they can be described as offensive. These are the type of things I hear people say regarding swearing. It reduces respect people have for you, It shows you don’t have control, It’s a sign of a bad attitude, It discloses a lack of character,It’s immature, It reflects ignorance…..I have to say, I disagree for the most part. I am very much of the ‘school of thought’ that says all words are just that, words, and as long as they are used in context, then so be it. The only time I have a problem, is when words are used in a derogitory way, or in an aggressive manner!

I am old enough to remember my own Grandmother asking God to forgive her for using the word ‘Damn’ and woe betide her if she ever said , bloddy or bugger and I suppose they were the ‘F’ words of post WW1 Britain. Surely then the natural evolution of language, the media and the influx of migrants have led to a dilution of the English language and far more tolerence to improper English, dialects and swear words etc. These days expletives are all over the TV and increasingly swear words are being heard before the 9 0 clock watershed. So does it signify ignorance, lack of vocabulary or disrespect?

Oscar Wilde once said

With swearing, context is everything

I have to say, I agree; the one thing I cannot stand is to hear someone, no matter what age, swearing every other word and using swear words as part of every day language. I believe there is a time and place and in general most people respect this in that they don’t swear constantly at work in an office, they would not usually swear in Church or in front of parents and children, though they would swear socially with long standing friends or peer groups and also if they worked outside e.g. on a building site.

“Global changes have made a huge difference, with language barriers being overcome by finding common words that can be understood by diverse culture groups this is obvious if you listen to Rap music, and street talk amongst different groups. I think in some cases, the swear words are dumbing down slightly, for instance,you are far more likely to hear the word ‘crap’ as opposed to’shit’ and ‘shag’ as opposed to ‘fuck’, and so on. then there is every woman’s nightmare…the dreaded C*nt word! Why can’t I even bring myself to write it down in full, I hate the word, although I occasionally use all of the others. I honestly think it’s instilled in me that it’s so bad, that I may go to Hell in a handcart with my Granny who said ‘Damn’!

One thing is for sure though, I never use swear words in an offensive or aggressive way, I am far less likely to swear during an argument than I am while telling a joke, or laughing with friends. I am more likely to use swear words in a jovial way, therefore it is never meant as an expression of anger or disgust.

So if I swear at you on Twitter, Facebook, GrannyRant or any where else for that matter, it will mean that you are in the circle of people with whom I feel comfortable to do so. I chose you as a friend and to any one else who takes offence, they really don’t know me and I couldn’t give a flying fuck!….Now, Where’s that hand-cart??

Don’t you just hate it when footballers are referred to as heroes? They are NOT heroes, and all too often they set a bad example of how to behave, both on and off the pitch. Over – rated, overpaid and not disciplined enough when they do get caught doing wrong. Commentators of football matches, refer to, ‘heroic’ attempts on goal and the sacrifices that these overgrown school boys make for their team…..WHAT?? for £100,000 per week I bet the Soldiers in Afghanistan would run naked into the desert and risk being canon fodder!

Even the England Manager says They earn too much too soon. Capello, when interviewed said, players should try to behave better:

“They are young boys, who are rich boys. This is the problem. Players have to be an example to the children, for all the fans. For that reason, they have to stay careful at all times and sacrifice something in their lives.”

Some professional footballers certainly are good role models but I would argue that many are loud mouthed, arrogant and obnoxious. Footballers who make it to the top, must work hard to achieve their goals and they should be proud of their success but this is not a license to act like spolied children when they can’t get their own way. Growing up they would have taken part in endless hours of practising, training and playing the beautiful game and then when they finally, after all that work, make it into a Premiership team, they turn into spoiled rich kids with temper tantrums to match!

Footballers could demonstrate really important traits to children and adults alike e.g. the importance of working as a part of a team, of being a good citizen and respect for others. This is what we expect from other members of society as the norm, when many hardly earn enough to get by, if they can get a job at all that is!!

Although many footballers are accused of being selfish and overpaid, the Premier League website regularly covers stories of players’ involvement in community projects and many of the top stars even have their own charities. This is to be applauded, so why do they not carry these charitable characteristics on to the field?

With the world Cup in South Africa looming, those players who have got a seat on the plane, will need to be on their best behaviour. There will be no such thing as not having the right equipment, of going out in to the field without the best boots for the job and they will be transported to and from games in style. Something, I wager, that our troops would relish in thier everday struggle against the Taliban!

So a final word to the commentators, the real heroes are fighting our battles everyday, that is their chosen career and they train just as hard to acheive their stripes as you do to earn your £100,000. As the mother of serving soldier who has taken part in two tours of Iraq and will be off to Afghanistan later this year, I would say to these really lucky young footballers, earn your money, show some respect for others and take a long hard look at your good fortune…others aren’t so lucky and they are the real heroes!