Jobsworths and the Nanny state

Today I set off on a mission - to rent a carpet shampooing machine for the day, which I eventually did after having to provide 2 forms of ID, including a recent utility bill, but that's another story.
A detour on my journey was to Boots the chemist to stock up on Keith's pain killers and some low dose dispersible aspirin (You see, Elder Daughter, I do listen to you and follow your advice!).
At 9.10 I approached the sales asistant.
"I'd like the larger pack of 400mg Ibuprofen please."
Sharp intake of breath and a determined expression on her face.
"Sorry, can't sell you those. The pharmacist isn't here till 10a.m."
Inward groan - forgot that the Nanny State won't allow us to buy nasty strong medicines all by ourselves. Outwardly polite, I said,
"O.K. Well I'll just have some 75mg dispersible aspirin then, please."
Shocked expression that I am trying it on yet again. Voice reminiscent of Joyce Grenfell when talking to 'George'.
"I'm sorry, I can't sell you those. The Pharmacist isn't here."
Thoughts briefly flit through my mind...

• Protest loudly at the stupidity of this state of affairs.
• Ask her what harm she thinks I am going to do to myself or anyone else armed with 75mg dispersible aspirin, for heaven's sake.

No point really. I'm still not going to get served.
I smile through gritted teeth and leave.

Later, I return to Boots, where I am served, without question, by another assistant. This time the all-important pharmacist is in residence.

Is he aware of what I am buying? No
Does the assistant inform him that she is about to entrust me with these 'dangerous' drugs? No.
Would it have made any difference to him or me whether or not he knew what I was buying? Again, no.
Just the result of more mind games by politicians gradually extending their power over our ordinary, everyday lives.

This decorating lark

I am sitting on the sofa, laptop on knee, gazing in admiration at my handiwork all around me. It's a piece of cake, this decorating lark - dead easy. Well, no, actually, there were just a few problems:
In a house the size of a postage stamp (not that I'm complaining - it means less housework), it can be difficult to find room for the ladder, somewhere safe to place the paint tin and move the computer desk and TV unit out of the way without having to disconnect them. I had considered abseiling from the light fitting to reach the inaccessible parts of the walls but decided against it. After all, I don't want to join Keith with a broken ankle, or worse. And no, there was no way I was going to disconnect/dismantle the TV or computer. Have you any idea how many millions of miles of cable nestle behind each of them?
Then there was the problem of which paint was to go where. Yes I know the white gloss was for the woodwork, including skirting boards and dado rail and the subtly toned 'mature cream' (meant to be 'antique cream' but I picked the wrong tin off the shelf) silk finish was to go on the walls. Despite a liberal use of masking tape, I seemed to be incapable of restricting each to its own area.
This meant that some rescue touching up was necessary.
This proved difficult as when I re-glossed bits of the dado rail, it leaked onto the wall and when I then touched up the wall, yes, you've guessed it, it managed to overflow onto the gloss. It's a bit of a vicious circle really - when do you stop? I blame it on being left handed.
Anyway, it's done to the best of my ability. I can see the less-than-perfect bits but we will have to live with them. The paintbrushes and rollers are washed and put away - until I start on the kitchen, anyway but that's for another day.

Decapitated

Since I decorated the living room (just finished today), Keith has very generously offered to remove the top layer of NASA to make it a little less dominant. He even went to great lengths to tidy up all the millions of miles of cable too! Now that's devotion!

Been busy

The decorating, my course and resulting homework sort of took over the weekend and the last two days have been spent in my new school, visiting. A bit of a problem there, though. It is now definitely to close in twelve months and so some parents are already voting with their feet and moving their offspring to other schools from September, which means that, as far as one can tell at present, I am going to have 6 Year 2 children in my class and, if I'm lucky a handful of Year 1 children. So, am I going to report for duty at the beginning of September only to be told I have no class to teach?
Watch this space...................... maybe it was just too good to be true.

Stripping

It's summer, nearly the end of term and decorating fever is upon me, much to Keith's horror. Not that I'm really a decorating addict; the resultant chaos and confusion is annoying to say the least, but when the house is 15 years old and still has the original paint and wallpaper throughout, I think the time has come to take the bull by the horns (Ugh! That conjures up visions of that appalling Veet ad!) at least downstairs.
So yesterday was spent collecting paint charts and considering colour combinations (maybe white and white?) and working out just how we were going to remove NASA from the immediate scene. To me, this presents an ideal opportunity to make it a little easier on the eye, but to Keith, the very thought is a threat to his happiness.

"We've had burglars!" he announced mournfully when he came downstairs this morning.
"They've taken the wallpaper."

Being neighbourly

BBC Breakfast this morning, interviewing a designer (didn't catch the name or what he is a designer of, but he hails from Lancashire) about proposed new strategies for planning housing estates in a bid to make people who live in them more neighbourly. This was the gist of his argument:
Well, of course, up to now, new building has given too much consideration to the car. What we need to do is put the cars away from the houses, round the corner somewhere so that people have to walk to them and, on the way, they'll meet their neighbours. No problem about cars being broken into because new cars are practically burglar-proof. (So what about those people who don't have new cars / can't walk round the corner because of disability / need to carry heavy shopping back to the house?)
And as well as freeing up all the space to meet your neighbours in, we can free up even more by having a recycling point down the road somewhere rather than having individual wheelie bins. So you could meet Mrs Bloggs going down to the recycling bins with last night's take-away rubbish in her negligee and, who knows, she could eventually become your wife.
(So it doesn't matter that she is apparently already married then? And are the females among us, by the same token, going to get the chance of meeting Mr Universe by the same recycling bins? And is the wearing of negligees manditory? Even in winter?)

All joking aside, the whole interview was a joke, made worse by the interviewers sitting there with serious expressions on their faces, nodding solemnly to every ridiculous sentence that came out of 'Mr Designer's' mouth!

But my question is this:
What provision is there for your average British misanthropist who just doesn't WANT to meet the neighbours and exchange a friendly but meaningless quip on the way down the road to his car or to throw out last night's rubbish?
You see, no consideration for minority interests!

A job!!!

It's been in the pipeline for a few weeks now but the superstitious in me hesitated to broadcast it until I was as sure as possible that it was actually going to happen.
What am I talking about?
Some kind headteacher has decided that she needs a 'mature and experienced' teacher for Y2 for the next academic year - and she thought of me!
Actually, what happened was that I was interviewed for a similar job at another school but didn't get it. However, the head who was on the interviewing panel is taking up that position in September but is presently head of the school where I shall be working next year. You with me so far?
So there we are. As from September, Jennyta will be in full time, gainful employment for twelve months...
And I never thought to hear myself say this but,
I can't wait!