Which seat?

Keith was hunting for an adaptor lead that he had last used with the caravan but, having searched throughout, it could not be found.
"I suppose it's just possible that it is in that bag of stuff behind your seat in the car," he said, before disappearing out through the front door.
I watched his retreating back thoughtfully.
That would be the passenger seat in my car, then.
Well, we have no other car...
I think I may need to have a word!

Getting it right

Having been brought up in Bristol from the age of six, I was quite used to the sight of the Clifton Suspension bridge elegantly spanning the Avon, so I was interested in  this article in the online Telegraph this morning.
It seems that Brunel's father, Sir Marc Brunel was also an engineer and was keen to give his son the benefit of his years of experience.







Sir Marc's design incorporating a pagoda is certainly eye-catching but I think in this case, Isambard got it right. For me, nothing can beat that seemingly effortless and graceful span across the river.
Just goes to show, Dad's not always right.

What a pain

Don't you just hate it when someone sends you a text suggesting a way of dealing with a situation which is less than helpful and insinuates that you haven't really thought it through and perhaps are not capable of coming to the best solution anyway. Then, although you reply, politely reaffirming your original plan of action which is still perfectly adequate, no reply is forthcoming. The text has been lobbed at you out of the blue like a hand grenade, while the 'lobber' has retreated silently back into the ether.

Which character are you?

This article caught my eye this morning. It seems that some police forces are being trained to categorise members of the public with whom they come into contact according to their similarity to various better known members of the human race, such as, oh, you know, Jeremy Paxman, Lenny Henry, Madonna. Need I go on? Not only that, but they are trained to categorise themselves and adjust their mode of interaction with said member of public accordingly.
So. leaving aside the questionable assumption that Jeremy Paxman is 'motivated by respect' (Have they ever considered his interviewing style?), or the remote possibility that Madonna would ever be heard saying, "What time frame do we have on this?" I  wonder how on earth this is going to help any police officer in his/her daily round.
Can't you just imagine a Yorkshire copper adapting to cockney rhyming slang as he categorises half a dozen hoodies gathered in town on a Saturday night as 'text-book Michael Caines'?
"'Ere, no more pen an' ink for you, me laddos. Git back 'ome to the trouble an' strife, innit!" (With apologies to any real cockneys who happen to be reading this.)
Or how about dealing with some nefarious individual who has been identified as being in the Tom Jones category.
"Well, well, well,  noswaith dda, boyo! And what do you think you are doing here, isn't it? Whereto you think you are going to, then?"
However, worry no more about where your hard-earned taxes are going, especially if you live in South Yorkshire. They are simply  'looking to achieve a stronger customer focus culture, and as result have meaningful conversations with each other, with the end user – a victim of crime, offender, whoever it may be.'
Well, that's all-right then. Carry on, officers. 
Oh, and when they finally catch up with me, I want to be treated as a female equivalent of Lord Sugar - i.e. be grovelled to.

Plaster board and dust

So, we're still no further forward on the British Gas smart meter front and I've given up making non-existent appointments with them...