If you have the blocked nose, sneezing and sinus congestion of a winter bug, try sucking on a hard coated chewing gum tablet. You know the ones, they come in a little packet with about eight tabs in them, that ARE NOT medicated!
The mint/menthol in the flavouring will blast that mucus into submission, working like a decongestant, and you will be able to get on with your life. You don't even have to chew the gum to get the effect, though personally, once that hard coating has gone, I can't resist a little chew. I now keep those gums in the medicine cabinet because they are so effective.
Why pay more when the sweetie type will do the trick?
Wednesday 29 October 2008
Tuesday 28 October 2008
Monday 27 October 2008
Saving in the bathroom.
• Toothpaste.
1. Don’t get suckered by the ads that have a whole toothbrush head full of toothpaste, you only need a squirt the size of a pea to get your mouth clean, anything more is just rinsed down the plug hole.
2. Make your own tooth powder with three parts baking soda and one part salt. It doesn’t taste like commercial toothpaste but it will leave your mouth tasting fresh and clean, and it will kill germs just as effectively!
• Soap.
1. Let the liquid soap run out, and forget about replacing it. Use a solid soap instead; it does exactly the same job, at a fraction of the cost. Don’t forget to save the soap dispenser though, you will see why under shampoo’s.
2. Save the little stubs of soap and mould them in to a fresh bar.
3. Make your own; there is a lovely tutorial at Tipnut.com.
• Shampoo.
1. Pour your shampoo in to a liquid soap dispenser, it will prevent too much being used at one time, which can strip the hair of its natural oil protection.
• Deodorant/antiperspirant
1. Invest in a deodorant crystal, they last for years, really do deodorise, and work out at a fraction of the cost of a normal deodorant. An added bonus is they have no perfume so you can wear what ever you like, without fear of the scents clashing. Another added bonus is the crystal doesn’t have any of the nasty harmful chemicals in it that normal deodorants have, so you and your family will be healthier too!
• Shower gels, bubble baths
1. Again a dispenser will reduce the amount of wastage, you only need a small squirt of shower gel, any more and it dries out your skin! Okay you will need a few squirts to get a foamy bath, but even there you are less likely to land up using half a bottle to get the desired effect.
2. Don’t use ordinary dish soap for bathing purposes. Dish soap is very drying to the skin, and some people may even find it causes skin problems. Sure buy the cheap stuff, but not the wrong stuff!
1. Don’t get suckered by the ads that have a whole toothbrush head full of toothpaste, you only need a squirt the size of a pea to get your mouth clean, anything more is just rinsed down the plug hole.
2. Make your own tooth powder with three parts baking soda and one part salt. It doesn’t taste like commercial toothpaste but it will leave your mouth tasting fresh and clean, and it will kill germs just as effectively!
• Soap.
1. Let the liquid soap run out, and forget about replacing it. Use a solid soap instead; it does exactly the same job, at a fraction of the cost. Don’t forget to save the soap dispenser though, you will see why under shampoo’s.
2. Save the little stubs of soap and mould them in to a fresh bar.
3. Make your own; there is a lovely tutorial at Tipnut.com.
• Shampoo.
1. Pour your shampoo in to a liquid soap dispenser, it will prevent too much being used at one time, which can strip the hair of its natural oil protection.
• Deodorant/antiperspirant
1. Invest in a deodorant crystal, they last for years, really do deodorise, and work out at a fraction of the cost of a normal deodorant. An added bonus is they have no perfume so you can wear what ever you like, without fear of the scents clashing. Another added bonus is the crystal doesn’t have any of the nasty harmful chemicals in it that normal deodorants have, so you and your family will be healthier too!
• Shower gels, bubble baths
1. Again a dispenser will reduce the amount of wastage, you only need a small squirt of shower gel, any more and it dries out your skin! Okay you will need a few squirts to get a foamy bath, but even there you are less likely to land up using half a bottle to get the desired effect.
2. Don’t use ordinary dish soap for bathing purposes. Dish soap is very drying to the skin, and some people may even find it causes skin problems. Sure buy the cheap stuff, but not the wrong stuff!
Sunday 26 October 2008
Okay, I'll try the links again...
slipper socks
and
Soccasins
Thanks Riohnna! Now all I have to do is figure out how you manage to link to peoples blogs!
and
Soccasins
Thanks Riohnna! Now all I have to do is figure out how you manage to link to peoples blogs!
As Halloween approaches…
I’m thinking Witches, and as I think Witches, I think of warts. Now my experience of warts was zero until recently. I had this vague idea they were bobble like and hard, and if they were sitting on a Witches chin they had to have a hair or two sprouting out of them, that was the sum total of my knowledge. Not much I think you will agree.
So when I noticed a hard lump of skin on my index finger that was smooth, I thought it might be a wart, but felt I ought to make sure, just in case. So on my next visit to my doctor I showed it to him, but he was more interested in getting my breathing sorted, which was a little shaky at that time, so he gave it a cursory glance as he reached for the breath pump that measures your lung capacity, and said, “Haven’t got a clue what that is.” And he left it at that, and I let him because he distracted me with the lung capacity tests he was doing.
I left it for a while, but the lump kept growing and getting in my way, until it got to the point where I was filing down the lump more often than I was my nails!
So I bought one of those wart freezing preparations, but when I read the instructions, it described a wart very clearly, and I was right, warts look like cauliflowers made of dead skin, mine looked more like an insect bite made of dead skin, it even has a black centre to it, which makes it more like a verrucca than a wart, and to add insult to injury you can’t freeze off a fungal infection like that if you have bad circulation, the surrounding skin wouldn’t recover quickly enough from the freezing, and you’d land up with frost bite! I wish they’d said that on the outside of the packet, before I’d spent £9 on the product!
Well and truly fed up I phoned the doctors to make an appointment with the nurse to get this lump thing identified for once and for all, and to discuss what steps should be taken to remove it from my life, it kept catching on my yarn for heavens sakes! Anything that interferes with my crafting has to be sorted out ASAP! Only the receptionist wouldn’t make the appointment with the nurse, after I’d explained my need to see her, she said a doctor had to diagnose it first and decide what treatment would be best. So I make an appointment with a doctor, not my normal doctor, but a new one to the practice who I hadn’t met before.
Well in I waltz, and the doctor instantly picks up on some tell-tale signs that my thyroid isn’t functioning as it should be, even with the meds I’m on, and tries to distract me again, but I wasn’t having any of it! I wanted this thing, what ever it was, gone!
Reluctantly he looked at it and confirmed it was a wart! Hooray! “Now how do I get rid of it?” I managed to ask calmly.
“Just a simple freeze spray…” He starts. I shake my head, “I’ve got Reynolds, bad circulation, can’t freeze it out.”
“Then you have one of two choices.” I nod. “You could have minor surgery to remove it.” I nod again, as I was willing even to go through that if it got rid of this bane of my life! “Or you could try something my dermatologist friend told me about, I’ve not tried it before, but he says it works and it’s non-invasive, with no drugs involved.”
Now it being near Halloween must have been what made me think it, but I had images of me dancing under the full moon, sky-clad, rubbing a toad on my finger, while the doctor watched and stirred a cauldron. Not a pretty thought! Me dancing naked that is.
I think the poor man must have read my mind, as he quickly rushed on to explain it involved one of my favourite crafting materials, duct tape!
Yep that’s right, DUCT TAPE!
Apparently you cover the wart with the tape for six days, and on the seventh leave the wart uncovered and open to the air. Do this for six weeks and wart should be gone.
Guess which one I decided to do…
I go back in just over five weeks to let him record the results.
I had a few comments yesterday from people, and I have tried to reply in the comments, but I just had to make these two again here.
Riohnna said she has gone out and bought anti-slip soles for her home made slippers. I didn’t even know they made anti-slip soles for homemade slippers; I just use my glue gun and dot bits of glue over the sole if I feel they need them, I’ll bet it’s a lot cheaper my way! Having said that, I have worn the slipper sock pattern I said about yesterday for the best part of a year, without anti-slip, on wood floors, and not slipped once yet, I think it’s the pattern.
(And thanks for the tip about linking, I’ll try that the next time I want to link to something, and then come back and find out what I did wrong!!!)
Posh and Trendy, we are on the same wave length regarding banks, not to be trusted Shylocks, each and every one of them!
So when I noticed a hard lump of skin on my index finger that was smooth, I thought it might be a wart, but felt I ought to make sure, just in case. So on my next visit to my doctor I showed it to him, but he was more interested in getting my breathing sorted, which was a little shaky at that time, so he gave it a cursory glance as he reached for the breath pump that measures your lung capacity, and said, “Haven’t got a clue what that is.” And he left it at that, and I let him because he distracted me with the lung capacity tests he was doing.
I left it for a while, but the lump kept growing and getting in my way, until it got to the point where I was filing down the lump more often than I was my nails!
So I bought one of those wart freezing preparations, but when I read the instructions, it described a wart very clearly, and I was right, warts look like cauliflowers made of dead skin, mine looked more like an insect bite made of dead skin, it even has a black centre to it, which makes it more like a verrucca than a wart, and to add insult to injury you can’t freeze off a fungal infection like that if you have bad circulation, the surrounding skin wouldn’t recover quickly enough from the freezing, and you’d land up with frost bite! I wish they’d said that on the outside of the packet, before I’d spent £9 on the product!
Well and truly fed up I phoned the doctors to make an appointment with the nurse to get this lump thing identified for once and for all, and to discuss what steps should be taken to remove it from my life, it kept catching on my yarn for heavens sakes! Anything that interferes with my crafting has to be sorted out ASAP! Only the receptionist wouldn’t make the appointment with the nurse, after I’d explained my need to see her, she said a doctor had to diagnose it first and decide what treatment would be best. So I make an appointment with a doctor, not my normal doctor, but a new one to the practice who I hadn’t met before.
Well in I waltz, and the doctor instantly picks up on some tell-tale signs that my thyroid isn’t functioning as it should be, even with the meds I’m on, and tries to distract me again, but I wasn’t having any of it! I wanted this thing, what ever it was, gone!
Reluctantly he looked at it and confirmed it was a wart! Hooray! “Now how do I get rid of it?” I managed to ask calmly.
“Just a simple freeze spray…” He starts. I shake my head, “I’ve got Reynolds, bad circulation, can’t freeze it out.”
“Then you have one of two choices.” I nod. “You could have minor surgery to remove it.” I nod again, as I was willing even to go through that if it got rid of this bane of my life! “Or you could try something my dermatologist friend told me about, I’ve not tried it before, but he says it works and it’s non-invasive, with no drugs involved.”
Now it being near Halloween must have been what made me think it, but I had images of me dancing under the full moon, sky-clad, rubbing a toad on my finger, while the doctor watched and stirred a cauldron. Not a pretty thought! Me dancing naked that is.
I think the poor man must have read my mind, as he quickly rushed on to explain it involved one of my favourite crafting materials, duct tape!
Yep that’s right, DUCT TAPE!
Apparently you cover the wart with the tape for six days, and on the seventh leave the wart uncovered and open to the air. Do this for six weeks and wart should be gone.
Guess which one I decided to do…
I go back in just over five weeks to let him record the results.
I had a few comments yesterday from people, and I have tried to reply in the comments, but I just had to make these two again here.
Riohnna said she has gone out and bought anti-slip soles for her home made slippers. I didn’t even know they made anti-slip soles for homemade slippers; I just use my glue gun and dot bits of glue over the sole if I feel they need them, I’ll bet it’s a lot cheaper my way! Having said that, I have worn the slipper sock pattern I said about yesterday for the best part of a year, without anti-slip, on wood floors, and not slipped once yet, I think it’s the pattern.
(And thanks for the tip about linking, I’ll try that the next time I want to link to something, and then come back and find out what I did wrong!!!)
Posh and Trendy, we are on the same wave length regarding banks, not to be trusted Shylocks, each and every one of them!
Saturday 25 October 2008
Bits and bobs
Today I’m in a funny mood, can’t settle down to very much of one thing, so I figure if that’s the way I feel, that’s the way my blog should read too!
So first off, a message for Riohanna, the slipper sock pattern I used is here; http://knitting-crochet.com/crochet/slisoc.html
It took a little hunting, but my tenacious personality wouldn’t let me stop until I’d tracked it down. Actually it took me all of about three minutes, after I’d thought about it for a while. I also came across this pattern today, which I think will be next on my list, as I’m sure I can size it up enough for my small cold feet. http://megan.cc/Soccasins/
Not sure why the links didn't come out properly, perhaps you can give me some tips on how to get them to work?
Earlier today I heard some more news about the trouble the banks are in, and it sort of got me thinking. Now I know my attitude towards banks is pretty simple as I’ve never had enough money to have a mortgage, and I’ve never had a business, but basically I think their job is to look after our money and invest it wisely for us, or loan us money and make sure we return it with enough payment for the service to pay them for their time and the investors for their money. The bank is basically a go-between, or a Shylock, as my mind keeps calling them, because isn’t that what Shylock did?
Anyway, so when did being a money lender get to be such a respected profession? I’m not a Christian, but I respect many of their laws/ sayings as they make sense even today, and one of them is “Neither a lender nor borrower be.” Yet Christian countries have let the banks flourish and gain such power that they touch every single adults life, even the jobless have to have a bank account to get their benefits, no one institution, with possibly the exception of Government, should have that sort of power.
When and who gave the banks permission to lend our money so irresponsibly? When did the banks suddenly take control and have the power to tell you if and when you can have your money back? It’s our money, not theirs! Is it any wonder more and more people are reluctant to trust banks? I know I don’t, but then I haven’t for quite some time, the whole set-up seems iffy to me.
Okay, rant over for the day.
So first off, a message for Riohanna, the slipper sock pattern I used is here; http://knitting-crochet.com/crochet/slisoc.html
It took a little hunting, but my tenacious personality wouldn’t let me stop until I’d tracked it down. Actually it took me all of about three minutes, after I’d thought about it for a while. I also came across this pattern today, which I think will be next on my list, as I’m sure I can size it up enough for my small cold feet. http://megan.cc/Soccasins/
Not sure why the links didn't come out properly, perhaps you can give me some tips on how to get them to work?
Earlier today I heard some more news about the trouble the banks are in, and it sort of got me thinking. Now I know my attitude towards banks is pretty simple as I’ve never had enough money to have a mortgage, and I’ve never had a business, but basically I think their job is to look after our money and invest it wisely for us, or loan us money and make sure we return it with enough payment for the service to pay them for their time and the investors for their money. The bank is basically a go-between, or a Shylock, as my mind keeps calling them, because isn’t that what Shylock did?
Anyway, so when did being a money lender get to be such a respected profession? I’m not a Christian, but I respect many of their laws/ sayings as they make sense even today, and one of them is “Neither a lender nor borrower be.” Yet Christian countries have let the banks flourish and gain such power that they touch every single adults life, even the jobless have to have a bank account to get their benefits, no one institution, with possibly the exception of Government, should have that sort of power.
When and who gave the banks permission to lend our money so irresponsibly? When did the banks suddenly take control and have the power to tell you if and when you can have your money back? It’s our money, not theirs! Is it any wonder more and more people are reluctant to trust banks? I know I don’t, but then I haven’t for quite some time, the whole set-up seems iffy to me.
Okay, rant over for the day.
Thursday 23 October 2008
New socks
Three weeks ago I had a little accident down the allotment and cut my leg, nothing too serious just a deep graze, but it left my leg sore for a while, and it helped me realise that it isn’t just my joints that are getting older, my whole body is!
With my leg sore I noticed that both legs actually swell through the day, not something I had paid any attention to until then, especially round the ankles. Now if I was working I don’t think the level of swelling would be as much because I would be wearing tights, but I spend most days down the allotment so I’m in the toughest pair of trousers I own, and socks, and those socks have strong elastic round the tops to hold them up, and make the swelling worse.
As Christmas is coming I thought I’d do some research and tell hubby what socks to buy me and where, that don’t have elastic ribbing. Was I in for a shock! £10 for one pair of socks of dubious quality! Hmm, that needed a re-think.
So I looked through my collection of sock patterns, (those who know me, know I am an avid pattern collector, so I had to search through quite a few!), and decided to make myself some instead. I chose to crochet them as the cuff would be stiffer and stand up on its own. The choice of yarn was easy, my friend Linda had given me some lovely scarlet wool and enough to make several pairs of socks if I so chose.
After starting and discarding several patterns because they weren’t working up the way I wanted, I finally settled on a free slipper sock pattern I found on line some time ago and had already made in to the best pair of slippers I have ever owned! They are warm, thick and have a cuff that can easily be made longer or shorter to my hearts desire, which is thick enough never to slip down and bunch around my ankles.
The pattern calls for worsted weight yarn, (which is double knitting to us here in the UK) but I had originally made the slippers in chunky as I feared they wouldn’t keep my forever cold feet warm enough with double knitting, so I knew they would work up a little smaller in the double knitting.
The feel of the socks in the shoe is totally different from a normal bought sock; there is actually some degree of friction due to the stitches being bigger, but this brought an unexpected bonus, it increased the circulation in my feet so even though the last few days have been a bit cold around here, my feet, and hence the rest of my body, have been toasty warm, and I haven’t had to turn the central heating on!
The pattern is super easy to make, so I have whipped up a couple more pairs, and to be honest I don’t think I am ever going to go back to shop bought socks again!
Another added bonus to these socks that only appeared after wearing them for several days is the increased circulation has reduced the hard skin around my heels and toes markedly, to the point where I suspect I won’t have any hard skin in another two or three weeks!
So last night, as I settled down to sleep, I did my usual thing of thinking what I had done that saved me money during the day, and my mind instantly went to my new socks. I have saved the cost of buying socks, at £10 a pair, (and I now have three pairs so that’s a saving of £30!). I used a free, online pattern, so saved about £2.00 there. I used yarn that I had been given, so saved £4.00 there. And since wearing them I haven’t had to turn the central heating on, so who knows how much I have saved there! So in all I have saved £36 plus for only four hours work, that’s better wages than I could earn out in the labour market, after tax, so I’m a very happy bunny!
Lucy, the flour used to make pasta is plain if you want to go cheapskate. There are some fancy ones you can buy to make it special, but you’d have to look at the packets to see which ones are specific, because I really am a cheapskate, and don’t have a clue!
Angela, Linda, Lucy and Posh and Trendy, thank you for your kind words about the fox. My head knows there are many foxes out there, and they are a problem in urban areas, I also know I did as much as I could for her under the circumstances, (the RSPCA doesn’t like coming out for foxes as they consider them vermin). But my heart tells me I had formed a bond with a wild animal, which is a rare thing to happen and that I should treasure it, and I will for the rest of my life. My consolation is the foxes injuries were such that she must have died instantly with little or no pain, and at least I gave her the time to experience some of her life. I am grateful she didn’t have time to give birth to a litter of pups, which would have really torn me apart emotionally.
With my leg sore I noticed that both legs actually swell through the day, not something I had paid any attention to until then, especially round the ankles. Now if I was working I don’t think the level of swelling would be as much because I would be wearing tights, but I spend most days down the allotment so I’m in the toughest pair of trousers I own, and socks, and those socks have strong elastic round the tops to hold them up, and make the swelling worse.
As Christmas is coming I thought I’d do some research and tell hubby what socks to buy me and where, that don’t have elastic ribbing. Was I in for a shock! £10 for one pair of socks of dubious quality! Hmm, that needed a re-think.
So I looked through my collection of sock patterns, (those who know me, know I am an avid pattern collector, so I had to search through quite a few!), and decided to make myself some instead. I chose to crochet them as the cuff would be stiffer and stand up on its own. The choice of yarn was easy, my friend Linda had given me some lovely scarlet wool and enough to make several pairs of socks if I so chose.
After starting and discarding several patterns because they weren’t working up the way I wanted, I finally settled on a free slipper sock pattern I found on line some time ago and had already made in to the best pair of slippers I have ever owned! They are warm, thick and have a cuff that can easily be made longer or shorter to my hearts desire, which is thick enough never to slip down and bunch around my ankles.
The pattern calls for worsted weight yarn, (which is double knitting to us here in the UK) but I had originally made the slippers in chunky as I feared they wouldn’t keep my forever cold feet warm enough with double knitting, so I knew they would work up a little smaller in the double knitting.
The feel of the socks in the shoe is totally different from a normal bought sock; there is actually some degree of friction due to the stitches being bigger, but this brought an unexpected bonus, it increased the circulation in my feet so even though the last few days have been a bit cold around here, my feet, and hence the rest of my body, have been toasty warm, and I haven’t had to turn the central heating on!
The pattern is super easy to make, so I have whipped up a couple more pairs, and to be honest I don’t think I am ever going to go back to shop bought socks again!
Another added bonus to these socks that only appeared after wearing them for several days is the increased circulation has reduced the hard skin around my heels and toes markedly, to the point where I suspect I won’t have any hard skin in another two or three weeks!
So last night, as I settled down to sleep, I did my usual thing of thinking what I had done that saved me money during the day, and my mind instantly went to my new socks. I have saved the cost of buying socks, at £10 a pair, (and I now have three pairs so that’s a saving of £30!). I used a free, online pattern, so saved about £2.00 there. I used yarn that I had been given, so saved £4.00 there. And since wearing them I haven’t had to turn the central heating on, so who knows how much I have saved there! So in all I have saved £36 plus for only four hours work, that’s better wages than I could earn out in the labour market, after tax, so I’m a very happy bunny!
Lucy, the flour used to make pasta is plain if you want to go cheapskate. There are some fancy ones you can buy to make it special, but you’d have to look at the packets to see which ones are specific, because I really am a cheapskate, and don’t have a clue!
Angela, Linda, Lucy and Posh and Trendy, thank you for your kind words about the fox. My head knows there are many foxes out there, and they are a problem in urban areas, I also know I did as much as I could for her under the circumstances, (the RSPCA doesn’t like coming out for foxes as they consider them vermin). But my heart tells me I had formed a bond with a wild animal, which is a rare thing to happen and that I should treasure it, and I will for the rest of my life. My consolation is the foxes injuries were such that she must have died instantly with little or no pain, and at least I gave her the time to experience some of her life. I am grateful she didn’t have time to give birth to a litter of pups, which would have really torn me apart emotionally.
Wednesday 22 October 2008
A very sad day for me
Or The life of one urban fox
We got our allotment in the middle of April this year; it was a mass of bramble bushes over seven foot high, so the first two weeks were spent cutting and hacking to clear not even half of the ground in our spare time.
A couple of times while we were working through the early spring evenings we disturbed a fox who had taken up residence in the jungle of thorns that was to become our garden, but we thought as the environment it had chosen dwindled it would move on, what we didn’t realise was that it was a vixen and she was about to have, or had just had a litter, there was little chance of her moving on at that time.
Soon enough I was planting beds of produce and then the war began. The fox would nightly dig up areas I had planted that day, destroying young plants I had started at home on the window sill, or worse, digging up beds I had planted with seeds, the plants of which I had never seen the leaves of, so when something sprouted, because it was no longer in a straight line, I had no idea if it was weed or seed that was growing.
I tried everything to discourage the fox, from garlic powder to cayenne pepper, to the husband’s urine. I balked at anything violent though, as I respected the animal’s right to life, despite what it was doing to my garden. I did lots of research in to the habits of foxes, to see if I could find a way to get it to move on that way, and then I made a discovery. Aside from the fox there were other creatures out there eating my crops as soon as I could plant them, slugs, pigeons and mice to name but a few, but these three were a major problem, and guess what animal finds all three a bit of a delicacy, yes my fox, so a sort of truce was called. Beds I had freshly planted were netted with strong tent pegs all round until plants became established, and bird seed was set out for the pigeons. Often I would arrive at the plot to see signs of a fox kill of a pigeon, and I felt I had, to a small degree, returned the natural balance of things.
Then one evening I was working late on my own, and the bushes in the over grown plot next door started rattling, and suddenly I could hear the excited little yaps of small foxes at play. I looked up to see my fox sitting watching me near the bushes, but she was also watching the pups, which were out of my sight, and I suddenly felt as if we had finally reached an understanding. From there on in, every evening I was allowed to be present at the cubs play time, though I seldom got more than a glimpse of their tiny bodies, but that was more than enough for me. Mum looked exhausted and thin, so I started taking up my cats left over dinners (the bits my cat didn’t eat the day before) and leaving it out for her in the hope it would offer her some respite. Hey don’t criticize me, I brought up two children on my own, I know how tiring it can be, and how little time you have left to look after yourself, and this fox had three babies to protect and feed, not two!
About four weeks later I arrived on the plot, cat food in hand, to discover the decapitated head of one of the pups in the middle of my potato bed. A male fox had attacked the litter so the mother would mate with him. Apparently this is a common occurrence, and happens a lot in nature, but understanding this didn’t help my emotional reaction to it, nor did it stop my grieving on behalf of the mother, who was gone, where I don’t know. My evenings at the plot were now silent apart from the sound of distant traffic and bird song, and felt exceptionally silent to me.
Roughly a week later I was working on a bed during the day this time, when I heard a noise behind me, when I turned there was a small fox crawling on its belly towards me, it had a nasty gash on its left shoulder, its fur was matted and dirty with blood and mud, and it was as thin as a rake. When I stood up it tried to back away, but it just didn’t have the strength to move far, and I knew I had to do something, but at the same time, I knew I didn’t want the fox, if it survived, to become too friendly with humans, we are not a nice species as a whole in inner cities. So I rushed round the allotment hunting out all the slugs I could find, (the only thing I knew it could eat that I was capable of catching for it.) I had stopped taking my cats left over food down when the rest of the litter died, how I wished at that moment that I hadn’t done that! I threw the slugs towards the pup, never going too near myself, and the pup ate them up as fast as I could find them. Then I got a plant pot dish from the greenhouse and filled it with water and put that down close by. Satisfied that I had done all that I could do for the day, I left the fox to live or die, for the night.
The next day I returned, half expecting to find a body, but still carrying the cat food, just in case, and don’t tell my husband, but I may have taken down a little extra that had never gotten to see the cats bowl first. To my relief there was no body to be found, so I left the food in the same place where I used to leave it for the mother, and after doing a quick check around the allotment, I left to let the cub eat.
After that we sort of fell in to a routine, I’d leave the cat food, and the next day it would be gone. I had no idea if it was the cub that was eating it, or if it was another creature of the night, but I carried on leaving my little offerings, just in case. I’d like to add at this point, just in case my husband reads this, that I haven’t added any extra food since that first day! (It is always good to hedge your bets!)
Then three weeks ago I was down the allotment late, dusk was well and truly falling, and the light was almost gone, and suddenly my fox cub appeared, all grown up! She had a nasty scar on her left shoulder, and the unmistakeable white mask, legs and tail tip. She knew I was there, and walked within ten feet of me, sat down and watched me for a few minutes. I, of course, was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat, even though I didn’t move any other muscles. Then a male fox appeared and she stood up and they walked round to where I’d left the cat food, ate together and then departed. My heart was singing for days at that sight, I can tell you!
Today I walked down to the allotment, and at the entrance to the car park that I have to walk through to get to the plots, was the body of my fox. She had been hit by a car, going at speed by the looks of it, as she had been almost torn in half. I could still see the scar on her shoulder, despite her injuries, so I knew it was her.
Once again, my heart bleeds.
We got our allotment in the middle of April this year; it was a mass of bramble bushes over seven foot high, so the first two weeks were spent cutting and hacking to clear not even half of the ground in our spare time.
A couple of times while we were working through the early spring evenings we disturbed a fox who had taken up residence in the jungle of thorns that was to become our garden, but we thought as the environment it had chosen dwindled it would move on, what we didn’t realise was that it was a vixen and she was about to have, or had just had a litter, there was little chance of her moving on at that time.
Soon enough I was planting beds of produce and then the war began. The fox would nightly dig up areas I had planted that day, destroying young plants I had started at home on the window sill, or worse, digging up beds I had planted with seeds, the plants of which I had never seen the leaves of, so when something sprouted, because it was no longer in a straight line, I had no idea if it was weed or seed that was growing.
I tried everything to discourage the fox, from garlic powder to cayenne pepper, to the husband’s urine. I balked at anything violent though, as I respected the animal’s right to life, despite what it was doing to my garden. I did lots of research in to the habits of foxes, to see if I could find a way to get it to move on that way, and then I made a discovery. Aside from the fox there were other creatures out there eating my crops as soon as I could plant them, slugs, pigeons and mice to name but a few, but these three were a major problem, and guess what animal finds all three a bit of a delicacy, yes my fox, so a sort of truce was called. Beds I had freshly planted were netted with strong tent pegs all round until plants became established, and bird seed was set out for the pigeons. Often I would arrive at the plot to see signs of a fox kill of a pigeon, and I felt I had, to a small degree, returned the natural balance of things.
Then one evening I was working late on my own, and the bushes in the over grown plot next door started rattling, and suddenly I could hear the excited little yaps of small foxes at play. I looked up to see my fox sitting watching me near the bushes, but she was also watching the pups, which were out of my sight, and I suddenly felt as if we had finally reached an understanding. From there on in, every evening I was allowed to be present at the cubs play time, though I seldom got more than a glimpse of their tiny bodies, but that was more than enough for me. Mum looked exhausted and thin, so I started taking up my cats left over dinners (the bits my cat didn’t eat the day before) and leaving it out for her in the hope it would offer her some respite. Hey don’t criticize me, I brought up two children on my own, I know how tiring it can be, and how little time you have left to look after yourself, and this fox had three babies to protect and feed, not two!
About four weeks later I arrived on the plot, cat food in hand, to discover the decapitated head of one of the pups in the middle of my potato bed. A male fox had attacked the litter so the mother would mate with him. Apparently this is a common occurrence, and happens a lot in nature, but understanding this didn’t help my emotional reaction to it, nor did it stop my grieving on behalf of the mother, who was gone, where I don’t know. My evenings at the plot were now silent apart from the sound of distant traffic and bird song, and felt exceptionally silent to me.
Roughly a week later I was working on a bed during the day this time, when I heard a noise behind me, when I turned there was a small fox crawling on its belly towards me, it had a nasty gash on its left shoulder, its fur was matted and dirty with blood and mud, and it was as thin as a rake. When I stood up it tried to back away, but it just didn’t have the strength to move far, and I knew I had to do something, but at the same time, I knew I didn’t want the fox, if it survived, to become too friendly with humans, we are not a nice species as a whole in inner cities. So I rushed round the allotment hunting out all the slugs I could find, (the only thing I knew it could eat that I was capable of catching for it.) I had stopped taking my cats left over food down when the rest of the litter died, how I wished at that moment that I hadn’t done that! I threw the slugs towards the pup, never going too near myself, and the pup ate them up as fast as I could find them. Then I got a plant pot dish from the greenhouse and filled it with water and put that down close by. Satisfied that I had done all that I could do for the day, I left the fox to live or die, for the night.
The next day I returned, half expecting to find a body, but still carrying the cat food, just in case, and don’t tell my husband, but I may have taken down a little extra that had never gotten to see the cats bowl first. To my relief there was no body to be found, so I left the food in the same place where I used to leave it for the mother, and after doing a quick check around the allotment, I left to let the cub eat.
After that we sort of fell in to a routine, I’d leave the cat food, and the next day it would be gone. I had no idea if it was the cub that was eating it, or if it was another creature of the night, but I carried on leaving my little offerings, just in case. I’d like to add at this point, just in case my husband reads this, that I haven’t added any extra food since that first day! (It is always good to hedge your bets!)
Then three weeks ago I was down the allotment late, dusk was well and truly falling, and the light was almost gone, and suddenly my fox cub appeared, all grown up! She had a nasty scar on her left shoulder, and the unmistakeable white mask, legs and tail tip. She knew I was there, and walked within ten feet of me, sat down and watched me for a few minutes. I, of course, was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat, even though I didn’t move any other muscles. Then a male fox appeared and she stood up and they walked round to where I’d left the cat food, ate together and then departed. My heart was singing for days at that sight, I can tell you!
Today I walked down to the allotment, and at the entrance to the car park that I have to walk through to get to the plots, was the body of my fox. She had been hit by a car, going at speed by the looks of it, as she had been almost torn in half. I could still see the scar on her shoulder, despite her injuries, so I knew it was her.
Once again, my heart bleeds.
Tuesday 21 October 2008
When did things get so complicated?
Ever since I can remember I have loved pasta, right from my very first taste of spaghetti on toast. Of course my taste in pasta has grown up a little bit since then, but I still enjoy the odd ‘on toast’ experience too. But for some strange reason I have always thought pasta was something you had to buy because it was so complicated to make. In my mind I had images of Delia Smith rolling long thin strips of pastry through a machine and hanging the resultant strands on the backs of dining room chairs to dry for 24 hours. Don’t ask me where I got that idea from though, maybe an old program of hers?
Anyway, there I was tonight, sitting crocheting away like an old granny, with half an eye on the Jamie Oliver program, Ministry of Food, (Boy do I admire that man’s passion and common sense!) and he pops out with a recipe for pasta that even I could make on the busiest of days!
100grms (4oz) of flour and one egg. Mix to a dough, roll out thin, curl the edge over and roll in to a tube, then slice the tube, and hey presto, you have manageable lengths of pasta ready to go in the pan!
Guess what I’m having for dinner tomorrow….
If it is so easy to make, how did I get the idea it was so hard? The simple and obvious answer is I have fallen victim to clever marketing, yet again! They should teach consumer skills in schools I tell you! And you should be able to get a degree in the science of debunking advertising!
Any one who is interested in reducing their spending has read one of the many posts online about making your own washing powder, and that too is a lot simpler than marketers would have you believe, so I wonder how many other things that I now buy, thinking I can’t make a reasonable version myself, are on my shopping list.
Think about it, a 1.5 kilo bag of flour costs (if you buy the cheap stuff) £0. 46p, half a dozen eggs are £1.30, so that’s 3p for the flour and 21p for the egg, a total of 24p! Pasta if you buy it dried is 90p, and upwards of £1.90p if you buy it fresh!
Yes it takes a little longer to make your own than to buy it, IF you don’t add in the time it takes to go to the shop, find the pasta, wait in line to pay, and then transport it home, but if you do factor that in, then if you make your own, from things you already have in the kitchen, you are ahead monetarily and time wise BIG TIME!
I’m off to go through my shopping list again, just in case there is something there that I could be making myself for a fraction of the cost.
Anyway, there I was tonight, sitting crocheting away like an old granny, with half an eye on the Jamie Oliver program, Ministry of Food, (Boy do I admire that man’s passion and common sense!) and he pops out with a recipe for pasta that even I could make on the busiest of days!
100grms (4oz) of flour and one egg. Mix to a dough, roll out thin, curl the edge over and roll in to a tube, then slice the tube, and hey presto, you have manageable lengths of pasta ready to go in the pan!
Guess what I’m having for dinner tomorrow….
If it is so easy to make, how did I get the idea it was so hard? The simple and obvious answer is I have fallen victim to clever marketing, yet again! They should teach consumer skills in schools I tell you! And you should be able to get a degree in the science of debunking advertising!
Any one who is interested in reducing their spending has read one of the many posts online about making your own washing powder, and that too is a lot simpler than marketers would have you believe, so I wonder how many other things that I now buy, thinking I can’t make a reasonable version myself, are on my shopping list.
Think about it, a 1.5 kilo bag of flour costs (if you buy the cheap stuff) £0. 46p, half a dozen eggs are £1.30, so that’s 3p for the flour and 21p for the egg, a total of 24p! Pasta if you buy it dried is 90p, and upwards of £1.90p if you buy it fresh!
Yes it takes a little longer to make your own than to buy it, IF you don’t add in the time it takes to go to the shop, find the pasta, wait in line to pay, and then transport it home, but if you do factor that in, then if you make your own, from things you already have in the kitchen, you are ahead monetarily and time wise BIG TIME!
I’m off to go through my shopping list again, just in case there is something there that I could be making myself for a fraction of the cost.
Wednesday 8 October 2008
Saving money at the hairdressers
For a fella saving money at the barbers is easy, pop down to the local Argos and purchase a hair clipper, then use a number two all over once every six weeks. Lets say a guy spends ten pounds at the barbers each visit,that amounts to £80 a year, the cost of the clippers is around £20, thus saving £60 in one fell swoop!
For the ladies it is a little more complicated. We are expected to have well coiffured heads, preferably in the latest fashion, which at the moment I am told is the layered look. A visit to a hairdressers in London can set you back anything upwards of £30 per visit, and again, to keep that well groomed look, you HAVE to go once every six weeks - at least! Minimum cost per year £240 plus tips!
Now what would you say if I said I knew how to get away with only one or two, or even no visits to the hairdresser each year? Would that make you sit up and say "No way! You can't not go to the hairdressers?" Or would you be curious as to how to do it?
I will admit it takes a lot of courage to try my method for the first time, I mean you're cutting your own hair! What if it turns out like your worst nightmare? But look at it this way, if it goes wrong, you can grab a scarf/paper bag and run down to your hairdresser to get them to fix it, and you haven't wasted any more money, just a few minutes trying something that didn't work for you. If it works, you have saved £30 (plus tips) and have found a new skill in frugal living! Win-win situation.
So this is what you do;
1) Wash your hair, get it really soaking wet, DO NOT USE A TOWEL, you need it dripping to keep it weighted.
2) Drop your head so the crown is pointing as close to the floor as you can get it, and brush your hair forward over your face. Keep brushing until you are sure all your hair is smooth.
3) (Okay, this is the scary bit) Pick a line to cut and start cutting. Brush and cut until the line is even and straight.
4) When your satisfied the cut is as straight as you can get it, (gently, you don't want a giddy spell) throw your head back and brush your hair in to your preferred style, i.e left parting, centre parting, no parting, and dry as normal.
5) Hey presto, new hair style, easy to manage, lovely layers, all done by your own fair hand! Money saved £30 plus tips and the cost of the trip to the hairdresser! To me that is very frugal!
Sounds too easy to be true, doesn't it? Well all I can say is, you have to try it, and then tell me how hard or easy it was for you.
Enjoy.
For the ladies it is a little more complicated. We are expected to have well coiffured heads, preferably in the latest fashion, which at the moment I am told is the layered look. A visit to a hairdressers in London can set you back anything upwards of £30 per visit, and again, to keep that well groomed look, you HAVE to go once every six weeks - at least! Minimum cost per year £240 plus tips!
Now what would you say if I said I knew how to get away with only one or two, or even no visits to the hairdresser each year? Would that make you sit up and say "No way! You can't not go to the hairdressers?" Or would you be curious as to how to do it?
I will admit it takes a lot of courage to try my method for the first time, I mean you're cutting your own hair! What if it turns out like your worst nightmare? But look at it this way, if it goes wrong, you can grab a scarf/paper bag and run down to your hairdresser to get them to fix it, and you haven't wasted any more money, just a few minutes trying something that didn't work for you. If it works, you have saved £30 (plus tips) and have found a new skill in frugal living! Win-win situation.
So this is what you do;
1) Wash your hair, get it really soaking wet, DO NOT USE A TOWEL, you need it dripping to keep it weighted.
2) Drop your head so the crown is pointing as close to the floor as you can get it, and brush your hair forward over your face. Keep brushing until you are sure all your hair is smooth.
3) (Okay, this is the scary bit) Pick a line to cut and start cutting. Brush and cut until the line is even and straight.
4) When your satisfied the cut is as straight as you can get it, (gently, you don't want a giddy spell) throw your head back and brush your hair in to your preferred style, i.e left parting, centre parting, no parting, and dry as normal.
5) Hey presto, new hair style, easy to manage, lovely layers, all done by your own fair hand! Money saved £30 plus tips and the cost of the trip to the hairdresser! To me that is very frugal!
Sounds too easy to be true, doesn't it? Well all I can say is, you have to try it, and then tell me how hard or easy it was for you.
Enjoy.
Friday 3 October 2008
Damned thyroid
For years I have struggled with my sleep pattern, it never settles down to a routine for long, not even with three alarm clocks to wake me.
Take yesterday, I was up at 7.30, bright eyed and bushy tailed. No meds changed, and I took them all on time, and no alarm clocks were involved with my waking up. It was a good day.
Today I woke at 2pm, all three alarm clocks had gone off, and I'd slept through each of them, and again no meds had changed, but of course I didn't get to take them on time today.
I had so much planned, now I will be lucky if I manage to fit just my basic jobs in.
I just can't cope with no routine, and this is driving me mad!
Take yesterday, I was up at 7.30, bright eyed and bushy tailed. No meds changed, and I took them all on time, and no alarm clocks were involved with my waking up. It was a good day.
Today I woke at 2pm, all three alarm clocks had gone off, and I'd slept through each of them, and again no meds had changed, but of course I didn't get to take them on time today.
I had so much planned, now I will be lucky if I manage to fit just my basic jobs in.
I just can't cope with no routine, and this is driving me mad!
Thursday 2 October 2008
The golden rule of frugality.
All my life I have heard people say things like “My! How time flies!” or “Where did the year go?” and secretly thought to myself, ‘You have a calendar, you’ve crossed off the days, you know where it’s gone’. Not exactly a sympathetic point of view I admit, but then I just didn’t understand.
Then this morning I woke up, crossed another day off my calendar and suddenly realised it’s my birthday this weekend! It only feels like three months since I had my last one! It really is true, the older you get the faster time flies! And now I realise just how behind I am in my normal Christmas preparation schedule!
Normally by this point in the year, I have all my major Christmas presents sorted, I know what I am giving everyone, special Christmas foods have been made and are either maturing or frozen, and most of the major presents I have to make are made and now I’m concentrating on making the stocking fillers and cards, but not this year.
This year I have been so wrapped up in getting the allotment up and running, any thought of Christmas has completely escaped me! And now I’m panicking! There is no way I can get everything done in the time I have left!
I am going to have to do a complete re-think on the sort of gifts I give this year if I am to have any hope of getting them sorted in time, and stay frugally within in our reduced budget. You see there is a golden rule that over shadows everything about being frugal.
Being frugal is not so much about money, but about time. Or rather how much value you put on your time. Is it more economical to pay someone that little bit extra to make something you could make yourself, if you had the time to do it? And that is where the line is drawn for everyone. Everyone’s line is drawn at a different point, because everyone has different priorities, but most people do have a line which they will not cross. A point where they think to themselves ‘that is too expensive!’, and what they are really thinking is “That is not worth the time involved in creating that item.” Because time is money.
And now, because I have let my time slip away from me, I am going to have to re-draw my line in the sand.
Then this morning I woke up, crossed another day off my calendar and suddenly realised it’s my birthday this weekend! It only feels like three months since I had my last one! It really is true, the older you get the faster time flies! And now I realise just how behind I am in my normal Christmas preparation schedule!
Normally by this point in the year, I have all my major Christmas presents sorted, I know what I am giving everyone, special Christmas foods have been made and are either maturing or frozen, and most of the major presents I have to make are made and now I’m concentrating on making the stocking fillers and cards, but not this year.
This year I have been so wrapped up in getting the allotment up and running, any thought of Christmas has completely escaped me! And now I’m panicking! There is no way I can get everything done in the time I have left!
I am going to have to do a complete re-think on the sort of gifts I give this year if I am to have any hope of getting them sorted in time, and stay frugally within in our reduced budget. You see there is a golden rule that over shadows everything about being frugal.
Being frugal is not so much about money, but about time. Or rather how much value you put on your time. Is it more economical to pay someone that little bit extra to make something you could make yourself, if you had the time to do it? And that is where the line is drawn for everyone. Everyone’s line is drawn at a different point, because everyone has different priorities, but most people do have a line which they will not cross. A point where they think to themselves ‘that is too expensive!’, and what they are really thinking is “That is not worth the time involved in creating that item.” Because time is money.
And now, because I have let my time slip away from me, I am going to have to re-draw my line in the sand.
Wednesday 1 October 2008
Two hot topics
Now I have been told many times over the years that I have a ‘butterfly brain’, and I have never denied it, so please bare this in mind while reading my two offerings for today; night sweats during the menopause and the stock market crash. Yep two completely different subjects, which should, in reality, be put in two different postings, but I’m too lazy to do that...
So number one, the menopausal night sweats.
I read an excerpt from a biography yesterday by a well off, famous person (I mean, who else has the gall to write a biography about themselves?), where she described how her night sweats caused her problems where she would wake up with the sheets soaked and she had to move to another bed!
Now maybe I’m getting a little intolerant, what with old age AND the menopause, but…’move to another bed’? In my house the chance would be a fine thing! I’m just grateful I don’t sleep with the hubby any more (another story completely) so I don’t have to wake him up to change the sheets before I can get back to sleep!
And my heart goes out to all those poor women who do actually have to wake their husbands, haul them out of bed, and endure brainless comments like “Can’t you just put a towel under you?” change the sheets while hubby dozes in the armchair, then rouse him again to put him back to bed, then have to repeat the process a couple of hours later. It would literally drive me insane in a very short space of time in my present condition!
Then I got to thinking about what all that sweating must be doing to the rest of my body, I mean there is real fluid loss here, I even manage to soak the mattress on occasion, but seldom do I have enough brain cells awake to think I need to drink something, and when I wake up in the morning with a humdinger of a headache, I put it down to lack of sleep. But is it really? Could it really be dehydration? And could that also be the cause of the constipation I keep getting? I know that dehydration causes constipation, as do doctors, but has anyone ever seen advice for menopausal ladies telling them to keep a drink beside the bed to top up when they wake up all hot and sweaty?
And on to number two; the stock market crash.
I have an active imagination as well as a butterfly brain, and as I was reading about how the banks are dropping like flies after a good spraying, a thought popped in to my head and I just can’t shake it.
I don’t like banks, I consider them a necessary evil, but one that shouldn’t be necessary, I mean that’s why we have cash isn’t it? But over the years banks have carefully undermined our reliance on the solid feel of the coin in our pocket and replaced it with a dependence on the feel of plastic.
Now days, if you have a job, you can’t get paid unless you have a bank account, if you are unemployed, you can’t access your benefits unless you have a bank account, and this puts banks firmly in charge of everyone’s lives.
I have resented this for years. I have also resented the extortionate charges they impose for accessing my own money. I mean, here I am, kindly lending them my money to invest where they see fit until such time as I need it back, and what do they do? Refuse me access for 30 days, heap charges on my head for asking for it back, and to top it off, give me grief in the branch as if THEY are doing ME the favour! And don’t get me started on the idiotic attitude of their mortgage lenders and credit cards, they had to know that by giving people more money than they could reasonably pay back was asking for trouble, and woe betide the person who manages to pay off their loan or mortgage ahead of time, they are slapped with yet more charges for paying it back early! All this makes them no better than shylocks in my mind.
Okay, I know it is a bit of a simplistic view, but then I'm a simple woman.
Earlier this year, banks were legally told they charged far too much, and had to pay compensation to millions of people. They kicked and yelled a little bit, but over all they paid up like lambs, which instantly made me suspicious.
Now suddenly we have a reasonably well known bank go belly-up, which is then partly bought out by a Spanish bank (which already owns another well known Brit bank) and partly rescued by the British Government. I’ll bet my back teeth the British public got the chaff and the Spanish bank got the wheat, but I diverge.
What I am really thinking is, the Government slapped the wrists of all banks for going a step too far with their charges, and now, with the help of a sacrificial lamb or two, the banks are now firmly slapping the wrists of the Government, and sending out a warning to every Government around the world, "Don't mess with us or we will cripple you!".
Is this all an over active imagination on my part, or am I reading between the lines a little too well for an old lady?
So number one, the menopausal night sweats.
I read an excerpt from a biography yesterday by a well off, famous person (I mean, who else has the gall to write a biography about themselves?), where she described how her night sweats caused her problems where she would wake up with the sheets soaked and she had to move to another bed!
Now maybe I’m getting a little intolerant, what with old age AND the menopause, but…’move to another bed’? In my house the chance would be a fine thing! I’m just grateful I don’t sleep with the hubby any more (another story completely) so I don’t have to wake him up to change the sheets before I can get back to sleep!
And my heart goes out to all those poor women who do actually have to wake their husbands, haul them out of bed, and endure brainless comments like “Can’t you just put a towel under you?” change the sheets while hubby dozes in the armchair, then rouse him again to put him back to bed, then have to repeat the process a couple of hours later. It would literally drive me insane in a very short space of time in my present condition!
Then I got to thinking about what all that sweating must be doing to the rest of my body, I mean there is real fluid loss here, I even manage to soak the mattress on occasion, but seldom do I have enough brain cells awake to think I need to drink something, and when I wake up in the morning with a humdinger of a headache, I put it down to lack of sleep. But is it really? Could it really be dehydration? And could that also be the cause of the constipation I keep getting? I know that dehydration causes constipation, as do doctors, but has anyone ever seen advice for menopausal ladies telling them to keep a drink beside the bed to top up when they wake up all hot and sweaty?
And on to number two; the stock market crash.
I have an active imagination as well as a butterfly brain, and as I was reading about how the banks are dropping like flies after a good spraying, a thought popped in to my head and I just can’t shake it.
I don’t like banks, I consider them a necessary evil, but one that shouldn’t be necessary, I mean that’s why we have cash isn’t it? But over the years banks have carefully undermined our reliance on the solid feel of the coin in our pocket and replaced it with a dependence on the feel of plastic.
Now days, if you have a job, you can’t get paid unless you have a bank account, if you are unemployed, you can’t access your benefits unless you have a bank account, and this puts banks firmly in charge of everyone’s lives.
I have resented this for years. I have also resented the extortionate charges they impose for accessing my own money. I mean, here I am, kindly lending them my money to invest where they see fit until such time as I need it back, and what do they do? Refuse me access for 30 days, heap charges on my head for asking for it back, and to top it off, give me grief in the branch as if THEY are doing ME the favour! And don’t get me started on the idiotic attitude of their mortgage lenders and credit cards, they had to know that by giving people more money than they could reasonably pay back was asking for trouble, and woe betide the person who manages to pay off their loan or mortgage ahead of time, they are slapped with yet more charges for paying it back early! All this makes them no better than shylocks in my mind.
Okay, I know it is a bit of a simplistic view, but then I'm a simple woman.
Earlier this year, banks were legally told they charged far too much, and had to pay compensation to millions of people. They kicked and yelled a little bit, but over all they paid up like lambs, which instantly made me suspicious.
Now suddenly we have a reasonably well known bank go belly-up, which is then partly bought out by a Spanish bank (which already owns another well known Brit bank) and partly rescued by the British Government. I’ll bet my back teeth the British public got the chaff and the Spanish bank got the wheat, but I diverge.
What I am really thinking is, the Government slapped the wrists of all banks for going a step too far with their charges, and now, with the help of a sacrificial lamb or two, the banks are now firmly slapping the wrists of the Government, and sending out a warning to every Government around the world, "Don't mess with us or we will cripple you!".
Is this all an over active imagination on my part, or am I reading between the lines a little too well for an old lady?
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