When They Go Low, You Go High

So said Michelle Obama during the presidential campaign that, despite highlighting Trump's worst behaviours, saw him crowned as president. And yesterday saw his inauguration in Washington D.C.

There was a bit of a difference from when Obama became president, just a teensy, weensy bit.

It was the weather that kept the crowds away...or they forgot....or....

His equally abhorrent VP - Pence, who believes gay people can be "cured".

So today was the #womensmarch and it went global. If yesterday filled everyone with dread then today showed that hope is still alive. Starting in New Zealand and Australia, with the timezone differences, it grew in strength as each continent woke up, made their placards and hopped on the bus or train.

Follow these links to see what happened in Denver, Chicago, Washington D.C., St Louis. You get the idea. Since yesterday the White House website has scrapped their pages on LGBT rights, climate change, immigration, health care. Trump is going to be every bit as bad as imagined. Never mind about giving him a chance. A chance to do what? He has shown what he intends to do and it's not good (unless you're an old, white, rich man or are married to one).

A friend said to me the other day (on Trump) that the darkest hour is before the dawn. I think we have our new dawn. Now if people would just protest against injustice here like that...no?

When You Deal With Enough Provocation

There comes a time when the frustration of two years ago reinstates itself - in fact, it happens a lot nowadays. Perhaps the tide is turning, perhaps not. I don't underestimate the amount of stubborn, pig-headed people who will never change their views (because I am one!) But with all the crap we've been dealt with, all the lies exposed, being dragged out of the EU, about to have Trident nuclear weapons updated against our will, surely there can't be many who haven't seen the clear evidence we need to be independent?

Regardless, we'll be there with the facts again, I expect all the newspapers to do their best to trumpet all the misinformation again and not do their research. Take quotes out of context, ramp up the Project Fear machine, completely ignore the other side of the argument, oh we've seen it all before. If anyone believes them now then more fool them.

Because...

...positivity and hope never die.

I Don't Mean To Judge But...

Ah, who am I kidding, I judge, I judge all the time. If people were being honest we all do and if someone says they don't then they've just passed judgement on those who freely admit to judging.

Here are two little gems I mulled over while standing in line at the local Sainsbury's -

Wine; there is a layer of pretentiousness, even in the sweetest person.

A certain brand of cider or maybe just cider full stop; you want to get drunk, as effortlessly as possible and don't mind furry tongue in the morning.

Oh-ho! I hear the holier-than-thou folk cry, and what was it you were buying?

Cat food and diet cola (own brand), because the cats need fed and my insides are heaving cauldrons of rotten (but own brand doesn't have aspartame so I pretend otherwise).

Running, Standing Still

That pretty much sums up my relationship with technology.  Just as I think I've caught up, that I am semi-competent I suddenly find out things have moved on several paces and I'm back to knowing nothing at all.

It's exhausting and my tired old brain is addled trying to stay on top of it all.

I've thought on making a website, using one of those free sites of course (free being in my budget at the moment).  It all looked fairly simply but after about five minutes I gave up.  I knew where I wanted to go but damn it if I could actually get there!

One point of satisfaction tonight came as I discovered the uses of the block button on certain social media.  There is someone who has caused a lot of grief amongst members of an organisation I am involved in.  While I am luckily not tied into their disagreement the sheer brass-neck of the person had annoyed me.  I can't help it.  This whole sense of injustice, over people standing up and taking ownership of their actions, whether they be dick actions or not, drives me to distraction.

I was once again in danger of blundering in, of having everyone side with this person against the bad person picking on her.  And she is the type to greatly enjoy that, indeed it is part of this whole grief manifesto she has going.

Block, block, blockity, block.

And now she is no more!

I can merrily go about my business without that thorn digging in every time I see another "look at me, I'm this organisations best thing ever" post.

Yippee!

I need to do this more often.  I get bogged down with people like that.  Now technology has offered me a way out, probably could have done with finding it out earlier but never mind.  I'm there and no doubt come tomorrow there will be another thousand things I could also do that I will find out about...someday...

We Can Be Heroes

I should really let my once omnipresent optimistic side out more often.  She has been much diluted but is still there so this is what I once would have sounded like.

We have watched as gold medals roll in and confused at the apologies from those for winning mere silver medals (you won a freaking silver, silver in a highly competitive field of finely tuned athletes is nothing to be ashamed of.)  

The only grumble was when the widely excellent BBC coverage cut away from the track athletics where Team GB were winning an embarrassing amount, to show a penalty shoot-out between Team GB and whoever.  Naturally Team GB lost but the change in mindset was interesting.

Perhaps the lack of sporting interest has much to do with the prevalence of football over everything.  Seeing the prima donna footballers, earning stupid amounts for not doing much (considering there are 11 of them, sometimes not even playing during the 90 minute game, and one ball - which is lucky to see the back of the net more than once or twice) their very messy private lives all over the gossip pages. 

Then there are the other group idolised by the general public - the reality shows.  The hard work, perseverance and determined dedication shown by the Olympians makes a refreshing change from the faux tension of someone not singing in tune but their granny just died so that's ok.

Wait, I'm not putting it right...here, let Bradley do it.

There is much talk about how if Yorkshire were competing as a separate country they'd be 8th on the medal table.  No mention of how far up Scotland would be but, as we only have 5 million of a population I think we'd be proud!

(Note:  Scotland will never become independent of Britain.  Britain is the island, no escape from there unless we start digging a jolly big trench, we will (hopefully) become independent of the United Kingdom government.  This is not due to hating England but a wish to see what would happen on our own again.  It was a parcel of rogues who bankrupted Scotland, leading to the need for a union.  Anyway, that's a whole other subject.)

Ok so this is really something wonderful...

I admit, the thought of the London Olympics had me cold - we're 423.8 miles/682 km (yes, I Googled that!) and a whole other country away.  It would have little impact and mean absolutely nothing to anyone north of the M25 let alone we dubious, problematic Scots.  This was costing a fortune, was yet another London-centric thing we'd heard about forever more.


And then the Opening Ceremony happened.  No one had any thoughts other than remembering the utter, toe-curling, bum-clenching awfulness that occurred at the end of the Beijing games, when a big red bus full of UK shame horrified more than this nation.


Whoever it was that decided to give Danny Boyle the reigns must be now sipping champagne on a sun-drenched island of gratitude because they made an entire nation sit up and take note.


Apart from the ending (how to clear a stadium, Macca) it is an event that is hard to describe properly - you had to be there and yes, tv counts.  The hill in a sports stadium; the Industrial age towers; the dancing Isambard Kingdom Brunels; the music (actually ear-pleasing!); the cyclists with wings; Mary Poppins killing Voldemort; the beautifully amazing flower-fire-cauldron with copper petals; the everything!


Written down it sounds like someone was tapping the alcoholic beverages when coming up with ideas, or putting down stuff as a bet (oh they'll never go for this..shall we...oh go on...teehee.)  Boyle managed, in the however many hours it took, to make people who scoffed in horror at the ticketing disasters, the transport disasters, the umpteen other disasters leading up to these games actually change their minds.


The Hobbits fell asleep at 11 pm but up until then had been transfixed, even if a little confused at the slightly eccentric goings on.  We've gone from not wanting to watch a minute to oohing and aahing at the tense archery finals, cheering at the cycling, trying to figure out who is who in the swimming.  And all this from complete apathy.


Amazing what a fantastic event can do to lift the spirits.

I imagine the organisers of the Rio games watched in open-mouthed horror.  "Ah hell, let's just do the carnival again."

Your Opinion Counts

...but only if you agree with the general consensus.  If you don't you may find yourself ridiculed, excluded and made to feel a bit grim.


Despite the fact that life at the moment is more than challenging enough I do like banging my head against a brick wall it would seem.  By spouting my very own opinion online there is a danger that, by going against the current, you bring all sorts of trouble down on your head.


The pack can turn and it turns on you.


Not nice but then, if you were to agree just to be seen to be agreeing (and I have a feeling some do - in a 'look at me, look at me, I'm one of you too!' way) would that not be worse?


I know I'm not socially adept enough to skip away when I should.  I blunder in, say my piece, take the consequences.  I have my opinions, I have my prejudices, some are not correct, some are based on beliefs that are hard for others to understand but I await the debate to show me the other side.  Once that debate gets to the point of mud slinging and hysteria the argument is lost and I pay no more attention to them.


Banging your head against a brick wall only gives you a sore head!


I never learn.

On the other hand...

All these discussions recently about mad people living in sheds (albeit rather posh sheds with bedrooms and things) I have scoffed at the concept.  Until I saw this...

So when the financiers* turn this world belly up so they can scavenge over the innards like the vultures they are - we'll be living in one of these.  Bloody nice it looks too.  (I will insist on inside plumbing, I'm not that bohemian.)


*Read this article I can't link to.  Regarding a hedge fund manager who seemed so happy to make money on the misery of countries going bust.  The fact that these people have huge amounts riding on the failure of countries and the fates of millions of people, and that they may have influence to push them over the edge for a few pennies more, doesn't seem fathomable.  That it is allowed to happen is astounding and surely something that needs to be curtailed, immediately.  The article actually made me feel physically sick.


I just do not and will not understand these people who live lives based on money and making money by betting money they don't have on things they don't own.  This particular parasite had bought millions of dollars worth of nickels and was such a happy bunny about getting one up on his fellow Americans.  Wonderful expression of humanity he was.  Wonderful.

Ten Years Seems Like Yesterday

It is the subject on everyone's mind simply because the day those planes struck the Twin Towers and the aftermath has been branded into the psyche of anyone who witnessed it.

The idea that in one heartbeat someone could commit mass murder, of people just doing their boring every day things, was almost incomprehensible.  But we had to comprehend.

They did it in the name of religion, the favourite beating stick of crimes against humanity.  How many millions have died in the futile reasoning that it was willed by some vengeful, bloodthirsty God?  I no more believe in their religious martyrdom than I do in the Easter Bunny.  It was mass murder, of the most horrific sense.  Regardless of how much you hate a country, or its people, to do such a thing...

I couldn't fathom it then and I cannot fathom it now.  My skin itches when I hear of people making excuses for why it happened.  People hated America because of this, they had reason to do it because of that.  Feeble.  Anyone who spouts hate must be prepared to face the consequences of their venomous bile and whereas some like to placate and try to see where the sticking plaster will go I find no solace in pretending that to even consider such crimes is nothing short of evil.

The people who perpetrated this were evil, as were the ones guilty in Madrid and then London.  They can make their windbag videos yammering on about how we in the West, who have given them a place to live, an education, a welcome in to our (much ignored and sidelined) culture, how we are the worst things to exist on this planet.  They can do this knowing that we have some semblance of freedom, that I do not need a male relative or a head to toe (plus eye) covering to go outside.  Yes, it is tied to one specific religion and that is a taboo subject to even cross but at some point we have to realise there are those who seek to oppress and we stand back and applaud to scared to point out the inadequacies.

Ach, I'm now warbling on.  It is not a popular view point and it is probably clear I do not find comfort in my own religion (lordie knows in past times I'd have burned as a witch for being a gobby mare.)

Ten years ago, I was lying on the couch in my living room.  On a day off, visit to midwife duly done and lunch just finished.  My mother called, an accident, she said, like what had happened to the Empire State Building during the war.  It was no accident and as events played out live yet unbelievable I began to wonder if there would be a world for my two babies to be born into.  Suddenly their January birth seemed too far away, what would have happened in between - it seemed world war three was about to commence.

Ten years ago it didn't look as though we would have a future.  I can't say that the coming years fill me with optimism other than to say that we're still here, sort of.

Tip me a wink in the morning Mr. Sunshine won't you?

There is a definite autumnal snap in the air and in twenty-one days we'll be jetting off for a much (desperately) needed holiday.  So at this moment everything else seems to reek a little of poo;  I've just had yet another blow from the ex that lets me know there are many people out there who believe I am a monster bitch of an ex-wife thanks to the lies he feeds them and at the moment I have to take it as I can't retaliate until the final piece of the jigsaw goes in and then he'll get his; house buying has hit more trouble and if it ever happens I'll die of shock; job at the moment isn't so much meh as "do I have to go?" and I'm getting more than a little pissed off at how my sons seem to miss out on every opportunity at school in favour of certain children who are always top pick.  Everything is on a low and there doesn't appear to be any easy answers ready for me to snatch up.  In fact there are never any easy answers so we'll mark that one down as a myth.

The hurdles I have to jump get higher.

Still, I carry on.  I have to.  I could really just lie down and sleep for eternity but I am made of sterner stuff, like the bloody Titanic I am and there are no icebergs around here I thank you.

I wouldn't say I'm keeping upbeat.  No reasonably sane person could if they had to deal with the amount of utter snash that I have to.  But I am keeping up.  Just.  When it gets like this I downsize.  I don't look to the future especially when it looks as bleak as it currently does.  Instead I take what pleasure I can from simplicity.  That little cross-stitch I'm working on, the little drawing I'm doing, walking our boy (dog not either of the human ones), watching the Hobbits build their Lego or train models, reading together, watching films even if I have to sit through Star Trek...again..., that article in a magazine that resonates with me, that song I hear that brings a wry smile as I acknowledge the words that chime with me.

It is what you do to survive.  At some point things will pick up, if not for me then I'll make it through to when the Hobbits are up and running and I'll ensure they don't end up with this kind of existence. That will be my reason to go on.

Like a worm on a hook

When the Hobbits are old enough to read accounts of this time I wonder what the history books will make of our ex-glorious leader Blair? 

Having been married to one I feel I have the right to note that he acts very much like a manipulative liar.  And like the manipulative liar he convinces himself that what he says is truthful - it is an artform he has truly mastered.  If you say it often enough, no matter how much removed from the actual truth it is, then it becomes the truth.  I've witnessed it, I've believed in it and I have been suckered into it.

No matter what, while he wriggles like the proverbial worm, it is almost assured that Blair will not be fed to the fishes.  It is a showpiece, a theatrical act for a gullible audience - the sheeple who will think what a nice man he is, couldn't possibly lie and be deceitful.

Watching this, from the distance I have now from my own experiences, I can spot the signs.  How many other people can and how many others simply go with it because it is easier than making uncomfortable accusations against a "nice man."

God's Way Of Eking Out The Stupid

Here is a lady who visited Berlin Zoo one day and thought to herself "You know those polar bears look lonely, I'll go join them." So in she jumped.

You'll never guess what happened next. It is a real shocker. An utter surprise.


I know, who could have possibly guessed the outcome.

The zookeepers rescued her while the polar bears looked on rather bemused. Oh sure, they had a little chew, what carnivorous beastie wouldn't? I suppose she wasn't quite to their taste though. No one knows why she did it but hazarding a guess at her being a little touch of crazy would perhaps not be too far off the mark.

The devil on my shoulder, the one who speaks the clearest sometimes, prompts me to add that truly, I'd have left her in there. Really. She chose to jump in, she also then chose to swim back to be rescued when she realised she wasn't about to star in the remake of The Golden Compass. Idiot.

Is The Trough Not Empty Yet?

While our esteemed Members of Parliament seem to be able to gleefully exploit their expenses (or should that be renamed the pot of gold and be done with it?) without a care, I wonder - these people are allowed tax money to buy a second home plus furnishings etc. etc.... when I'd just like enough to buy one small home for me and my boys. And I know everyone would feel similar, particularly those who are having their homes repossessed because they bought into the Noo Liebour lifestyle.

Ah but then, that would be seen as scrounging and that is much different - isn't it?

It Will Do That To You Sometimes

There are control freaks and then there are control freaks and sometimes for a quiet life you just do as they wish.

Apologies to those who have emailed about t'other blog. It would seem that a wish to vent my frustration rather than take it out on those I love has annoyed a certain person. Or perhaps it was the truth, which can be hard to handle sometimes. It is now by invite only so contact me if you wish to read on but as I hadn't updated it in ages anyway it all seems like a moot point. I will probably put it live again at some point.

Anything to create a drama though, eh?

Just now I'm preparing my mental boxing gloves as tomorrow I do battle with the authorities who seem to think it is alright to leave my father to rot in hospital. Okay, that is maybe a bit extreme but that is what it feels like. I have priorities, and right now the screaming hysterics of someone who doesn't take their own advice (I stay out of their business so should I expect them to stay out of mine?) are so low down the list.

Such a shame that two 7-year-old Hobbits, who have done nothing wrong are dragged into this once again. And isn't it interesting that they can't see what the fuss is all about either. Ah, my boys are smart little dudes. And their Beaver Lodge got second place in the Scouts Potted Sports event today. That was more important to them than anything. I wasn't daft enough to volunteer for that one thankfully!

Banging my head against a brick wall.

Single Mum On Benefits

A title like that would have certain parts of the press foaming rabidly at the mouth in delighted rage. A title that sweeps a large section of society together so the rest of the people can form an orderly line to stick the boot in too.

I'm not going to provide a link to the odious article, 'tis what Google was made for. I would love to know who it is that they use as the guideline to judge the rest of us though because she must be really well off.

The majority of single mums, sorry I am going to say single parents as it isn't just the mums y'know, are not simply sitting back and racking in a fortune in benefits. Most of us have never been on benefits before and are using them in the way the are supposed to be used. As a step up, as a helping hand during bad times. Not as a career choice. Not to wickedly take money from tax-payers.

Certainly there is a minority, the kind of people who have parents and grandparents on benefits, who have children outwith a stable relationship and who have no intention of changing the status quo. They are indeed a minority, though the lazy journos who like to write sensationalist bullying stories wouldn't care to point that out.

Instead we are all thrown together. In one big heap. Signed off as useless.

Single parents, of the type I refer to - on benefits now but not forever - are dealing with a lot more than the meeja care to understand. We deal with the effects of broken relationships, we try and steer our children through the mess, we cope with feelings of failure at not making a marriage on long-term relationship work and yes, we feel guilt and humiliation at having to ask the state for help. If they think it is easy they should attempt to comfort a 6-year-old child, or two, crying at night or asking for a new daddy in a way that would break a heart of stone. And during all this we have to read pathetic headlines that the big bad single parents are so much better off than the nice working families.

Guess what, I know plenty of families on benefits. Plenty of two parent families where at least one parent could work. Funny how you never hear of them. Or of the large amount of 18-25 year olds who leave school and can't see the point of getting a job which I think is a scarier and more interesting prospect for a story. I suppose though, it is better to wait until one of that group pops out a baby and joins the already formed pariahs of society.

Easy targets. We have them.

Revolutions

No, not a typo.

The New Year doesn't really start for me until the Hobbits return to school on Monday. At the moment we are still bobbing along on a post-Christmas fug. The house is a tip, I have more recycling than space and have squashed the bin down as far as it will go (two weeks without a pick up because no one realised they would turn up on Saturday at 6am!)

Last year is over and I decided, in the wee small hours that are mine now I no longer sleep properly, that this year has to improve. Financially this year will be guff for a lot of people, so a problem shared (only I bet they weren't stupid enough to trust my ex with their household finances! Hey, you live and learn.)

This year I prioritise what is important, I will not rush into things because I feel it is expected of me or that others might think less of me. The opinion of others has never meant less to me than it does right now. I will take better care of myself, if the Hobbits are happy I am too but I really need to get healthier mentally and physically.

It is important for me to succeed at my OU courses to do the one thing I was told I would never achieve because it presumably wasn't for people like me. I've decided also that I want a job which is more suitable and not so liable to change in hours (childcare will see to that.) I also won't jump at the first opportunity but at the right opportunity because financially work will leave me worse off. It is for the self-esteem I will be doing it.

All these things I wish to do this year. So not so much resolutions, I don't make them anyway, but ideas I want to live by.

Reasons To Be Thankful?

I'm not American, I've been there, lived there and partook (its a word if I say it is) in Thanksgiving when there. I also pondered if the Native Americans feel particularly cheery on this day but that is another matter.

So here I am, wondering what to be thankful for whilst glad I am not having to cook a grand feast so soon before Christmas (oh yes it all falls to me now.)

I am thankful for my freedom. (Not in an overly patriotic way but in a hey-I've-got-the-bed-to-myself way.)

I am thankful my boys are healthy and seem to be coming through these dark days relatively unscathed.

I am thankful...okay this is hard.

This week the fuel prices hit an eye-watering level. I would use public transport if I could, but I can't, so I get to pay these over-inflated prices - yipee.

The personal details of 25 million peeps, handily available on disc-size, has gotten lost. Fingers crossed that the criminal gangs that have been allowed to flourish unchallenged don't get their hands on it, eh? Perhaps the details of yours truly will get into the wrong hands, they'll have a nose around my bank account, think "bloody hell" and transfer some money in. Double fingers-crossed that in 10-15 years time neither Hobbit finds their identity stolen in time to ruin their clean and shiny credit rating.

Circumstances are still running on stress-level high. You think you know someone and then...

Our government, who hasn't enough money to offer cancer sufferers all the medicine they need has enough to bail out some bank. Do you think I could get them to "loan" me money? I'll promise to pay it all back when Northern Rock pay theirs, i.e. when hell freezes over and the camels come skating home.

Reasons to be thankful. The clouds are overhead and they don't look good. I've always liked Hello Kitty, perhaps if I concentrate on this picture, look into the eyes, not around the eyes, then things will seem cheerier.

When I Grow Up I Want To Be...

This is not going to be a post all about how we have grown and learned through this peculiar summer, although we have. Instead I have been wondering, as I am oft to do, about the future, what the future holds and for myself in particular, what I thought the future would hold.

And we were watching Child Of Our Time, which featured a small part on what the children (now 7) wanted to be when they grew up. Naturally I turned to my own two, or rather shuffled around as we were all sprawled across the sofa, lazy as we are. I posed the question, one which has always, up until now, resulted in the same answers.

Eldest Hobbit - Pilot
Youngest Hobbit - Spaceman

Now whether or not they were influenced by watching the programme full of older children (well nearly two years older anyway) doing interesting things I don't know but this time we had a variation on the theme. Eldest Hobbit has not changed his plans, he will he states "fly all the planes in the world." Which should take a while, but now he has added to that. He now also would like to be "boss of the school like Mr. Simpson." So pilot and Headteacher of a primary school, well, he won't be bored for sure.

Youngest Hobbit however gave a great deal of thought, then decided he would like to "fix things." What kind of things I asked. "Important things," he said mysteriously without venturing further explanation. As you wish.

I never wanted to be one of those mothers who were overly ambitious for their children. I just want them to do what they are happy in doing and will encourage them and support them the best I can. For I know that without encouragement, without a belief that they will accomplish things they will not reach their full potential and spend the rest of their lives regreting decisions made because no one expected them to do anything of any great worth.

I know of what I speak. I know what it is like to have people expect you to fail. And with that lack of support you succeed their low expections of you. It is such a waste of life.

Can Of Worms. Tin-opener.

How long has it been?

I have been trying to avoid this subject, a subject that has dominated the news to an almost hysterical level not seen since Princess Diana got in a car with a drunk driver at the wheel (or did she??? And who cares???)

The week before last a little girl was stolen from her hotel bedroom in Portugal. A lot has been said about it and emotions are causing normally rational people to fight amongst each other on the technicalities over what went on and the strong opinions it has garnered. This is fact:

On that Thursday this 3-year-old child was left alone with her 2-year-old twin siblings while her parents had dinner with friends in a "nearby" restaurant. At some point during this time, and between the 1/2 hourly checks on them, the girl was taken.

Now there is no way for me to avoid the crows of disapproval so let me first lay down what I personally feel. Although I do have some sympathy for her parents the person I am more concerned with is the missing child. To leave 3 children under the age of 3 alone, out of earshot, out of view is just irresponsible and dangerous. Now under no circumstances, as the hysterical will cry against my views, do I feel the fact they left her alone means the parents deserved their child to be taken. That idea is abhorrent and quite frankly immature of those who use that as an argument against those of us who feel a huge mistake was made.

The next argument I'd like to blow out of the water is that we should not criticise the parents, they are going through enough. True. But if that criticism stops just one family doing similar while on holiday then it has been worth it. Being a parent is 24 hour risk assessment, we shouldn't smother but we should understand that leaving such young children alone, in a strange country, in a strange bed was a risk too far.

Abduction aside - what about fire? What if one of the children had woken up in unfamiliar surroundings crying out for mummy and daddy? Checking on the children every 1/2 hour as was claimed would not have saved them from nightmares, a fire, any other danger you could think of.

Another hysterical viewpoint is that it could have happened with the parents there or not. Yes, these things happen, but there is a vast difference from cases where the child is snatched from their house while the parents are there or, like Sarah Payne, snatched while out playing with siblings and one where the child is left alone.

There would have been much more criticism against the choice the parents made had they been from a poorer background, that I have no doubt. Then there would have been no one jumping to the defence of the parents, despite the fact that no one is directly attacking them. Just highlighting the consequences of their actions. The only person/s to feel guilt, to feel the hatred of everyone is/are the person/s who took her.

As a parent I can't help feeling strongly, I will not apologise for my viewpoints and having read forums and blogs on this I am a little disgusted at how sanctimonious and self-righteous some people are in their unwillingness to acknowledge the mistake made. To eat in a restaurant 50 yards away, separated by a swimming pool, bushes, hedges, wall and pathway, leaving your children in an apartment with easy access to the road right next to it, well on holiday or not that would have had most people's risk radar flashing like mad.

You have children, you are responsible for their wellbeing and safety while at home or on holiday. When we were in Belgium last year we were sitting beside the enclosed childrens play area when over the tannoy came a call for us. With leaping hearts we rushed to the reception to discover that, under our very noses, youngest Hobbit, had sneaked out of the play area to go to the toilet and had asked a startled Dutchman to help him wipe his bottom! The thought of what could have happened had that Dutchman not been a bemused, kind man who immediately went to reception to say there was a child alone in the toilet was unbearable. A lesson was learned by the Hobbits who were given another stranger danger warning.

Now that happened while we were relaxing on holiday. See how easy it happens. But we were there, we had not left them alone in the play area to go get something to eat. The shame we felt at being caught out as bad parents, despite the staff finding it quite funny that this little boy asked someone to wipe his bum was immense. But yet we felt we had let him down, we hadn't noticed him walk out of the play area and away from where we thought he was playing in the huge network of slides and tunnels that made up the equipment. Leaving them in there would not have been a consideration, we had them, they are our responsibility.

300 Years Ago

It was 300 years ago that the 'parcel of rogues' signed us over to the English. A contentious statement but true. I imagine that if Scotland didn't have as many resources then the Union would have ended long ago and perhaps, considering the current feeling perhaps the Union is soon to end.

There is debate on both sides and, more infuriatingly, mud slinging. The English call us scroungers (must have seen the ridiculous amount spent on benefits and anyway we get a lot less than the Northern Irish and nothing is said about them), we call them bullies. It is an antagonistic relationship that does not hold when one person speaks to another and we cease to see them as English/Scottish and start to see them as individuals.

I think England would benefit from our Independence in gaining back their own culture as a separate state. Yet, having heard all my years about the "Queen of England," and the use of England when it should be Britain, they hopefully could try and understand the frustration of being denied a voice. Even if we moan, we are good at it. Both countries have good and bad points in their psyche.

Would a split make us respect each other more? We would need to wait and see. There are a lot of English living in Scotland, we must be doing something right.

Oh and there was no party to celebrate the Union, but there was a new £2 coin. There is a moral in there somewhere.