29th April 1911- 12.13pm

http://www.titanic-titanic.com/titanic_launch.shtml

Today marks the hundredth anniversary of the launch of the Titanic at the Harland and Wolff shipyard in Belfast, leading to the towns motto ...

"Well it was fine when it left us!"

A single flare was fired above the city's docklands to signify the exact moment (12.13pm) the ill-fated liner rolled down the slipway and touched the water for the first time.



Certainly an event of note for the Shipyards blog

http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2011/may/31/titanic-launch-centenary-marked-belfast

I very much like ...

Family (to be revisited)

As a planned return visit to Richmond (Yorkshire) lays ahead of us I of course think of family- where do you start in writing about family and is it really necessary (no doubt I am often a huge disappointment to mine)?

When people appear aloof my nature is to always assume that I have either done or not done something to offend, it is often worst with family. I worry that I'm not as vivacious or available as others so rapidly go out of favour. Out of sight, out of mind. I've always felt I wasn't as popular as the actress, certainly I am more difficult (spiky, opinionated, awkward and uncomfortable), she is much easier to like- sunny, easy, undemanding. In many ways we are so very different.

I have learnt to avoid disagreements and distress we should never talk about politics, religion or finances with the actor or actress. Our opinions and beliefs are so polarised; any discussion always becomes too heated, so these matters are best avoided. Perhaps this makes our conversations bland, as these subjects provide some of the most interesting talks, but they are so unwavering in their beliefs and won't consider any other opinion that it simply isn't worth the hurt

In terms of wider family there was some distancing following who we did, who we did not and to what exactly we invited certain family to regarding our wedding. We would have liked to invite everyone to everything, but with approaching forty Uncles, Aunties and cousins (forgetting cousins children and other family members) on my side alone it simply wasn't possible. There were accusations that we played favourites, which to a certain extent we did (we had to) and who were "the chosen ones", which hurt. People tend to forget that they had eaten, drank and danced at my expense previously. I can understand disappointment, but the need to pass comment (semi) publicly distressed. Since this became apparent (and I confronted it) it has felt like a wedge between certain family members and myself, where there is already enough of a wedge because of distance and lifestyle differences.

I also worry that I have distanced friends by flippant comments, foolish actions and location. Plying one couples teenage son pepper vodka at a 40th birthday party, whilst the parents weren't fussed, I don't think it was a popular action with members of his older family. I felt I became the naughty boy parents refused to have over to play. Foolish. Being unable to meet another family on one of their very infrequent visits back to the Midlands because of our prior commitment to a family get-together. The intention was to meet following, but after eight hours of day drinking it was never going to be likely. Sometimes difficult decisions need to be made.

In all cases I fear the damage has been done, and that I'll struggle to repair. But in the end you have to just be yourself and keep on prodding. To question it outright would only lead to the discovery that you're not as important to them as they are to you.

In all the cases would I have done anything different, probably not.

When did York become the stag / hen destination of choice?

We've never noticed before, but then it has been a very long time since either of us has stayed in the Micklegate area. Costumed hoards roam the streets; intimidating and prowling, the obvious atmosphere of both predatory sex and aggression is palpable. Ruining the vibe and so out of keeping with this historic city. Such a shame that one of the most beautiful & important cities in England can be marred by a very small minority. The mobs have already taken over Newcastle, Blackpool, Manchester, Liverpool and pretty much every major city in the North; can't they leave a few for everyone else? 

I am reassured that they don't venture from the Micklegate into the city beyond the River Ouse, which may provide further explanation as to why we haven't noticed previously.

Thankfully we found the sanctuary of Brigantes bar, an oasis in a desert of theme pubs and identikit bars. Highly recommended.

http://www.markettowntaverns.co.uk/brigantes.asp?Tavern=Brigantes&Section=Main

Lessons of life (not) learnt

When using a public toilet always check the provision of paper before depositing, consequently negating the need to waddle about in search feeling dirty, uncomfortable and slightly ashamed. You'd really think by thirty-nine (nearly) years of age I'd have learnt this already?

CHECK BEFORE DROP

I love to sound of squelching brass

Today I witnessed the local private girls school brass band performing under a poorly constructed DIY store gazebo in the pouring rain. Whilst their teachers, governors and parents were waving flags and giving out leaflets; desperately trying to promote their privileged school during this time of recession & cost cutting to the well to do shoppers of Stone (not the childless, middle-income earning, coffee shop dwelling, newspaper reading grumps!)

I don't think they expected such heavy precipitation; but there was something quite cheering about witnessing these drowned uniformed souls soldering on in such inclement conditions, made even more precious when one of the little darlings piped up ...

"Mummy my boater is getting wet ...  and the rain is running down into tuba"

I took sanctuary in Costa, which actually resembles the Costa Creche. All I wanted was a quiet early morning sit down with a fresh coffee and today's newspaper until the rain held off, but I couldn't move for all the off-road buggies, yummy-mummies and roaming toddlers. It's like work only more annoying, don't they know it's my day off? So I supped up and made a swift exit, better wet than irritated.

My Marred Marmite

Denmark has banned Marmite, I am turn am vetoing their bacon. We shall see who will be the first to crumble ...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/may/24/denmark-bans-marmite

Miserable Monday

How does Tyrannosaurus Rex get his socks on?*

Full on day yesterday (another one) has left me feeling awfully fatigued with very sore feet, particularly my soles. Not for the first time I can truly say I have a sore soul.

Today has let me gather myself prior to a long-day Tuesday, another on Wednesday and early Friday (with my appraisal which I need to prepare for, my first one for sometime) and then a week-off (almost ... another long-day on the 5th June)

* With those little arms so far from his feet, must be a struggle?

Is the bottle empty?

Struggling to get my creative juices going recently; last week was uneventful dominated by work. Hopefully this week will provide me with more (positive things) to write about.

Today has allowed me to gather myself before two long-days (Tuesday & Wednesday), an early shift on Friday and potentially my appraisal (which I need to prepare for- first one for sometime) and then a week-off (almost long-day on 5th June).

Money makes the world go round ...

or is it sex ... or is it fame???

Each week the press is filled with tales of famous men (footballers, boy-band members, bankers, politicians, etc) and fame hungry trollops- the tom-cat morals of those it is offered to on a plate verses fame hungry slappers starved of the oxygen of publicity as their star is in rapid decendance.

Such a sorry state ... and not even news. As a nation we are so celebratory obcessed, you just have to look on the magazine shelves of your local newsagents to see how much, desperate for a glimpse of how the other half live.

Distracted bankers and politicians whose eyes were not on the ball and hopeless role models providing young men with unpleasant expectations (whilst apparently living the dream). As long as I can recall dumb girls have always had their heads turned turned by wealthy / famous / powerful / (often ugly) men, but it's reporting seems more prevalent than ever.

Leading to the inevitable kiss & tells in the tabloids always bleating "But I loved him and thought he loved me!", so what better way of cleansing your love than a tell all expose in the News of the World. Am I alone in thinking that you know what you're getting involved with when you enter into a relationship with a married man?

You never hear the story reversed, famous married woman in torid affair with Z-list hunk. No once again this only exposes the foolishness of men, heads so easily turned by a decent pair of baps and a cast iron guarantee that she will utterly humiliate herself sexually in exchange for a glimpse of the champagne lifestyle. Safe in the knowledge that their wealth and the topsy-turvy legal system will protect them.

I don't want these people protected, but neither do I want them to dominate news reports. So perhaps do me a favour and just
 S T O P!

You've changed (audience) ...



Frank Turner, Stoke Sugarmill, not as marvellous as hoped.

Started off badly when my "date" pulled out at the last minute 'cause of sickness and I was stuck with a spare ticket. Unable to palm it off to a tout or find anyone one outside the venue who wanted one I just had to absorb the loss. No doubt with a bit more notice I'd of been able to pass it on a dozen times over, but not tonight. Perhaps I just wasn't in the mood for a gig alone and was overly sensitive to the faults of the crowd (who had many faults)

Once Frank shows were full of hirsute husky men, moved by words and with significant history; now replaced by annoying screeching girls and students. All so young.

... and the talking. Babbling through the supports, heckling the head-liner, annoying everyone in the venue. But that's not true, one half of the crowd were guilty fuelled by too much booze and an inflated sense of their own importance. The remaining half were (almost) as annoyed as me. It's rare to have a decent gig close to home now, somehow it angered me more that this was happening in Stoke than if it had been in Sheffield for example. Which makes no sense, I'd assume that increased effort would equaly increased annoyance, but not so tonight at least.

Overall just so f*cking annoying and a disappointment.

The set was largely poor, controversul for  the sake of it and I even don't particularly like the newer songs eithe. rPerhaps the first time I've ever thought "You know what I think I might actually be too old to like this band"

Tog-gle on ...

Am I the only person who suffers serious bouts of anxiety about reducing the tog weight of the duvet as summer approaches? Very suddenly it appears that you're just too hot to sleep overnight so you change it, then spend the next month full of regret and turning yourself into a quilted Swiss roll whilst you try adapt to the altered weight.

Weirdly I don't really tend to sleep under the duvet very often (irrespective of the time of year); preferring to gather it like a sausage-wall between EJT & me. Reassuringly there if I need it, but rarely actually used. I appear to need to know that a necessary weight is available if required; inadequate coverage and disappointing weight invariably leads to poor sleep.

Come on Stoke

F.A. Cup Final

Stoke City v Manchester City

Wembley 14/05/11

3pm

Today we are  all Midlanders; supporters of the Under-dogs, the paupers against the privileged princes. The sense of potential and promise is palatable in the Potteries at the moment; this could actually bring real change & improvement to the area.

So for all those reasons ...

Come On Stoke!!!

Alone again (again) naturally ...

Why when there's sickness does it always seem to be the nurse that I'm meant to be on with? A man could gain quite a complex thinking about such issues; perhaps "she" just doesn't like me or (trying) to be positive perhaps she thinks I'm most likely to cope?

Either way I'm by myself for the week-end, trying to coerce a colleague to come in and do an extra shift or gain help from one of the other children's wards. Both a bit of a battle; who ever comes in understandably doesn't want to be there, so can't always be relied upon to work particularly hard.

Maybe she wants to watch the match; surely she must know all the children, families and staff will want to watch it also and it will be on. Not wishing to tempt fate, but I can't see it being a particularly busy afternoon, the majority of Staffordshire will be glued to the television and it seems that a half the city has taken a trip to Wembley. Perhaps we will see an influx after the game, injuries sustained celebrating or trying to imitate their heroes.

I'll report back ...

We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful*

 ... in securing morrissey tickets.

"We hate it when our friends become successful
And if they're Northern, that makes it even worse
... It's really laughable
Ha, ha, ha ...

You see, it should've been me
It could've been me
Everybody knows
Everybody says so"

Morrisssey is playing Hanley on the 5th July, but despite it being a hometown gig and making sure that despite being at work I was online & trying to call the box office openned at 9am I was unsuccessful. All sold out before 9.30!

Really disappointing, the only comfort is that I don't actually know anyone who managed to get one. Of course moments later there were twenty on eBay and more appearing as the day progresses no doubt? The wise thing would be to sit tight and hope more are released or that I can pick up a return, but I can see myself having to purchase from a glorified tout on eBay in the next few weeks.

*The picture on the cover was taken in Hanley in 1991 & the US. vinyl was pressed on Fuchsia

Eating cereal with a fork

Just about sums up my day ... frustrating!

Sh*t the bed

Feeling a bit bored at work I sat with a blank piece of paper in front of me and waited for inspiration (as I occasionally do, it passes the time) At that exact moment there was a screech and I was beckoned to the bed-side by one of the parents (it’s worth mentioning that this family are from Chinese extraction and speak fairly little English) to discover that their child had laid an enormous turd in his bed (“Naughty Boy. Dirty Boy … in your bed!” Oh you’re in your bed … shuffle away from it then!)

It can’t be said that the gods of the NHS that look on from high don’t have a sense of humour, and must delight in the assorted retching and the gurning of the staff below.

There are very few superstitions in health care, but one is the Q word. It is very rare to hear a nurse say QUIET ‘cause it can unleash hell. Last week two colleagues on secondment to the Accident Unit mentioned how quiet it was mid-way through a long-day; when the end of their shift came they were on their knees & weeping …

“I don’t know what happened???”

I do you said the Q word!

However you may feel, all know that it takes minutes to turn.

Slow, peaceful, bored, chilled, unusual, but never - never quiet.

Some fools will test it, tossing the Q word liberally into every conversation and statement; they almost always regret it as it unleashes holy hell- the Four Horsemen of the Hospocalypse.

Secretions (sick, shit, snot, blood, puss, piss & tears)
Screaming
Stress
Stupidity.

No, on a Sunday I’m quite happy to let the shift pootle along, safe in the knowledge that normal service will resume shortly, and when things go grotty or it’s necessary to do unpleasant tasks do it cheerfully (as appropriate) with a good grace.

Voucher rage

I’m becoming increasingly frustrated by the little paper vouchers given out week-in / week-out by WH Smiths. As the majority of British Post Offices are now found within a branch and the hospital shop is also part of the Smiths group (also with the death of the local newsagent) I seem to amass many of these scraps of paper during a normal week. I think Smiths assume that most are binned, left behind or discarded.

Last week I was presented with a £5 Book voucher- seems good.

Valid from Monday 9^th May until Sunday 22^nd May 2011, so although the voucher has to be retained for a week it's not a problem. Valid on any book over £10- and there’s the rub. Valid on any book, that’s not books and perusing the shelves WH Smiths very cleverly price the majority of their books at £9.99; in fact in the hardback best sellers list only four are priced above £10 (all cook books).

So why bother?

Also Ocado don’t (won’t) deliver in our area, so I won’t have much use for the £15 off your first order voucher either … or the buy one get one free at Camelot theme parks … or the McDonalds discount vouchers. 

And whilst we're at it if I had wanted to purchase a large bar of chocolate I would have selected one prior to reaching the till ... and no I don't need an stamps or mobile phone top-up's!

Fluff in the garden

At first I thought it was manna, but on closer inspection it turned out to be fluff. It covers lawns, fibre debris entwined in every tree like blossom, weaved through bushes & plants, wedged in the eves, lintels & corners of windows. It’s everywhere!

Once discovering it wasn’t god given nutrition it occurred to me that it might be asbestos, covering my mouth in case the carsegens were inhaled and waiting for the inevitable scratching & itching to begin as I investigated. But it’s just wool, very annoying and plentiful wool; remnants from where someone has had new carpets fitted.

This happened previously last year, for some reason when fitting out a new build they choose to do all the carpet cutting outside. I had to buy a garden-vac to hoover it up, which I should do again, but being at work I am fearful that I am going to return to stinking wet wool lawn. Mmmmmmmm lovely!

I could gather it together and weave it to create a house-cozy, although it seems to be doing an adequate job without any necessary weaving.  A very low-rent fake snow.

That’s democracy folks!

It might have been a big YES from Shipyards,

 but it was an even bigger NO from the Country.

19.1 million people voted

 (41% of those eligible to vote)

32.1% Yes / 67.9% No



Ummmm ... … … doing the off-duty again.

I really don’t want to, although maybe it will be easier the second time? June’s requests are open until the 10th May, then I’ll try to turn it round in a few days. My intentions from last month are the same for this (please refer back to previous posts).

Your Flexible Friend

I work full time and this week have split days off (which are book ended by long-days) so I have to wonder why I have to fit round someone who is unemployed plans.
Twenty miles between his home and mine, so logic surely defines that we should meet at a mid-point. I have more commitments, so why am I being so flexible.
I can understand that fuel is costly and it's hard to measure cost verses convenience, but I always pick up the tab.

Care in the community; I'm not being disparaging- I care and we go out (in the community) that is all.

Busy ...

One of those days when you meet yourself coming back along the corridor; oddly the one going away always seems so much more cheerful than the one returning.

Not a horrible day, nothing salacious or exciting to report, just busy-busy-busy. Matters were not helped by being the only person who can complete discharge letters, which is seriously time consuming. Seven children to theatre on an afternoon list alone would be work, but having to do all the admin creates an unnecessary pressure.

On the best of days the time for actual patient care is greatly reduced by the time spent having to complete paperwork; unfortunately whilst it’s care that is obviously most important it’s the swift completion of paperwork that generates capital and payment. My time actually providing care is so greatly diminished by the need to complete discharge documentation; write doctors letters (I remain a nurse) and make follow-up appointments. Each discharge paperwork alone takes thirty minutes, time that could be (and should be) spent providing direct care not banging(?) away on the computer trying to decipher doctor’s scribble.

Of course everyone wants to go home swiftly, but don’t seem to realize that to facilitate this it takes & attention- x-rays to be reviewed, opinions to be gained, medicines to be obtained; all takes time. People can see you’re run off your feet, but aren’t very patient or understanding. We are doing our best.

AV or not AV that is the question?

The joy of local elections when you live in a Tory strong hold, our MP has been in office since 1997 and gained a 50% majority at the last election. In the simplest sense this i sperhaps why it’s a great big yes for AV from the Shipyards.

Democracy ... here's hoping!

Splash

In efforts for continued self-improvement I returned to Total Fatness today after an absence of many-many months. I’d hate to think how much money I have wasted each month with my members fee simply not going (I fear it’s around £160 this year alone) I should have cancelled it (it really was like flushing it down the toilet), but I couldn’t bear to.

So I’ve issued myself an ultimatum- either pay & go or cancel & embrace complete inactivity? I now need to go weekly at least, twice weekly would be better and thrice weekly would prove to be great value for money of no doubt?

I’ve been today; let’s see when I go again?

May the 4th be with you ...

Star Wars Day (it’s a boy thing): It’s inescapable that for many people Star Wars was an integral part of their childhood and growing up, the most important piece of cinema ever. Yeah it maybe a bit sad, but it was that important.

I’ve watched hundreds of films (maybe thousands), many better than Star Wars, but when push comes to shove if asked “What’s your favorite film?” without hesitation I’d say Star Wars- A New Hope (not The Empire Strikes Back (undoubtedly a better film), Return Of The Jedi and especially not the trio of prequels that George Lucas unleashed between 1999 & 2005)

There is a question: What is your favorite dinosaur?

Men usually tend to have a favorite dinosaur*, women usually not so tend to answer “Tyrannosaurus Rex” ‘because it’s the most famous. I wonder if there’s a similar question regarding Star wars characters.

Men (boys) would present a myriad of answers*, whereas I’d expect women to answer to answer Han Solo (‘cause he’s the hunk), Princess Leia (‘cause she’s a lady) or Darth Vader (‘cause he’s the best known- probably the most famous cinema villain)

Perhaps a bit of Facebook research in in order?

*Triceratops and Chewbacca in case you’re interested.

Never a crossword ...

Is it right (ethical seems a bit strong) to complete the crossword in the customer newspapers in coffee shops, if you do should you not at least use pencil? This is a rhetorical question; I haven’t actually completed a crossword since the Saturday Times discontinued their music, film & media one in the late 1990’s and I decided to embrace being an imbicile.

S.T.B.

Something incredibly thrilling about discovering S.T.B. (Supermarket Trolley Booty). Usually flat items left behind in trolleys (often found in the those returned to the trolley shed)- pizza’s, ready-meals, magazines & newspapers, bottles on the underside, flowers dangling from the hook, even a pound coin left in the release slot ... ... ... all abandoned & for the taking.

Today I found an unread copy of the Independent; my previous best finds have been a Tesco Finest (square) spinach & ricotta pizza and a averagely decent bottle of red wine.

Someone else’s loss can be your gain, so it’s worth keeping your eyes peeled. But is it stealing?

Osama Bin Laden Dead

No doubt an evil terrible man (master of the understatement), but I felt deeply uncomfortable watching the scenes from outside the Whitehouse and from Ground Zero of jubilant Americans. Will those who lost family and friends in the 9/11 attacks (and the 7/7 attacks in London to a lesser extent) really be able to rejoice in their killers (broadly) execution and will it finally draw a chapter to a close?

Maybe it’s just a cultural thing (seems odd saying cultural about another Western Country)? In the UK we have the worst tabloid (gutter) press in the world, but even they would be unlikely to report the death of an enemy in such a way to the New York Post (even though it is owned by Murdock)

Whilst I sympathize with the jubilation (9/11 brought the States to its knees), I am aware of the potential backlash from Al Qaeda and their sympathisers. A more measured response may have been wise, to onlookers it could be seen that it’s almost as if American have learnt nothing?

I very much like ...