Imperfect perforations

Is there any other reason why tax disks are round beyond to make them harder to counterfeit? It certainly doesn't make it any easier to separate it from it's sheet. Frustrating.

 http://www.britishtaxdiscs.co.uk/tax-disc-history.php

Shit List ...

Anyone appearing on the "The Only Way is Essex", "Geordie Shore" or any other scripted 

reality show that makes celebrities  & role-models out of idiots.

I very much like ...

Sam Duckworth- "The Mannequin"

Mushroom Cloud

So JK dropped one of the biggest (if not unexpected) bomb-shells today, she intends to retire in early November and until the opening of the new hospital I will be expected to steady the tiller of the good ol' ship 12b.

Initially I thought I was going to be sick as the waves of nausea & anxiety washed over me.Despite any criticism she remains a very good manager and hers are big shoes to fill; even if I am only stepping into them briefly I will certainly stretch them and crush down the backs.

I never wanted to be a ward manager, in the eighteen years I've been nursing I can not say I have ever worked with a happy, content or truly effective manager, and it is not a role I ever expected to find myself in. Even if it is only for less than six months.

In fact I

I'm excited about the new hospital opening, after such a length period of being involved in the planning it would seem very unjust it miss out in the actual opening so close to the actual date. Please remind me of that statement when I'm hoying boxes and up to my neck in disorganisation & confusion.

Off course they're not going to want to put another manager in for a brief period, and understandably as deputy ward manager I should be able to cope with all things admirably. It exposes a wider anxiety, what will happen to me in the re-organisation? There are going to be a mere five band six posts and currently I would estimate there must be approaching seventy including part timers. The process of whittling down. Well it's beyond whittling, it's lopping off most of the branches, if not chopping down almost the entire forest. But of course they'll retain most of the staff with all their knowledge & experience & enthusiasm but have them working at a lower grade; won't they???

Perhaps they won't, perhaps they're going to turf all these experienced staff onto the streets and have almost entire band five junior staff work force.There are some extremely compliment and skilled band fives, but overall they are junior.Now some time has passed and I've had time to think I feel a little more peaceful, I can only do my best and seek assistance as necessary (it might be awful necessary). I am concerned that I will be uncovered as a bit of a fraud; standing behind JK, picking up the little jobs but letting her carry the majority. But is it more of a case that I have been unable to wrestle most tasks away from her?

I have managed to comfort myself somewhat by the thought that if there are only five post and sixty applicants then there is no shame to be in that pile of fifty-five rejects, to stand shoulder to shoulder with exceptional nurses.

Up? Down?

A dank dark Monday morning, another run of nights draws to a close. I think I may have shaken off my jet-lag now, but I can't really tell with the disruption to my body clock returning from America. Doing a day-shift, commencing a run of nights and now eventually returning back to daylight hours.

Thankfully I'm not due back on the ward until Thursday, fingers crossed this will allow me the time to really get back to normal?

Shit List

Simon Cowell

The X Factor begins today and although he doesn't feature in the series (currently; no doubt they'll wheel him out for the later rounds) his presence looms very large. Hateful, smug man.

@oddrt

I'm a rather enchanted currently by the twinkle of Twitter; a newish sparkling thing that has captured my attention with the opportunity to converse with the beautiful people and publish waspish witticisms to the few that look in.

@oddrt

In reality it's just showing off by another name; an exercise in exhibitionism. I've had an account for sometime but it's only in the last few months that it's purpose and value has become obvious to me. Like all the best things it's only when you actually become involved and don't just stand on the sidelines that the potential becomes apparent.

I don't intend to forgo blogging; but with the summer holidays in mid-flow I think my writings will be a little more occasional until early September; allowing EJT's return to school and myself to find my creative mojo for longer pieces of writing. At the moment all free time is very much occupied and there isn't much dead time (apart from when I'm on nights)

DAY THIRTEEN- Kristiansand

We reached the pernumpulent day of our holiday and our last stop in Kristiansand before returning to Southampton. I'm sure they could drop us off closer to home, they're almost passing the door. Sadly we have to locate our taxi, collect Serg from the Hilton car park and drive back up to Stone, at least I am sure to feel more refreshed than how I do following a long-haul jaunt.     

Kristiansand seems quite low key, nothing outstanding in the guidebooks or literature apparently, consequently Liz is undertaking further sleep bank recharging before going for an explore at 11am.

 Normal service has resumed, I'm still waking at eight o'clock irrespective of location, weather, the time I go to bed or alcohol ingested. Liz by contrast will always require another hour, irrespective of location, etc, etc.  Perhaps my sleep bank batteries are fully charged?

I wake, read, shower, read some more and then eventually go up for breakfast, returning an hour later to chivvy Liz from her pit. 

Breakfast has become a little routined, initially you try everything available out of a mix of inquisitiveness & sheer gluttony, gradually as the days pass you resort back to the same old choices (although I have resisted the temptation to have a small bowl of All Bran, chopped fresh fruit & skimmed milk). 

They tend to do one special thing each morning, it's just a matter of locating it hiding amongst everything else. Today it was black pudding, obviously remaining from last nights sausage, liver & black pudding main. Sadly we have not seen the return of the gammon steak, the most extravagant of breakfast meats, and with one morning to go it seems unlikely we will. Or is it two mornings; do you have breakfast before disembarking the ship, I'm really not sure? We'll need some kind of sustenance before undertaking the drive back to Staffordshire.

Breakfast rarely takes beyond fifteen minutes without company, so I tend to sit and take in our location whilst it is relatively quiet. The port of Kristiansand appears lovely from a distance, a sparsely populated deep green wooded area from the starboard side. It's only when  you survey from the port side that it becomes apparent that it has a dirty great port stuck slap bang in the centre, which tends to negate it's charm somewhat.

I had a bit of a fright early this morning whilst sitting on the balcony, I noticed a couple of bright orange boats bobbing round alongside the ship, it was only when they drew closure that I could decider they both  had Oriana inscribed on their hulls and were in fact lifeboats. Mild panic ensued; had I slept that well that I had somehow missed the call to muster and the subsequent command to abandon ship? I was about to dash inside, force Liz's head through a life jacket and valiantly toss her overboard ... "Save yourself!!!" When the captain announced to not be alarmed, they were performing a lifeboat drill. Lucky for Liz; although on some days I'm not even sure a dunk in the drink would wake her from her slumber?

We had been misinformed, Kristiansand was significantly more pleasant than we had been led to believe. It was warm, the locals were friendly, cheaper than expected and overall a very nice pretty Norwegian town; the sort of place you could imagine making a number of return visits

We stopped for lunch at a cafe just off the main high street, I had a steak sandwich and Liz had a burger. She is quite a burger connoisseur and this one most a been a belter as it whizzed into her Top Five Burgers EVER List, no mean feat. Saying that my sandwich was darn good, even describing it as a sandwich does it a huge disservice (plentiful amounts of beef, pesto, mozzarella, fresh salad ), so it looked like we located a bit of a gem. 

Liz has a Beauty treatment this afternoon so we had to head back to Oriana, we returned to the ship just in time as it started to pour with rain as we approached. 

I'm unsure how I'm going to occupy myself whilst Liz is beautified, scrutinising the Horizon booklet there was nothing even vaguely Rupert friendly. I position myself in the Lords Tavern for a bit of change of scenery  but swiftly noticed that I was the lone patron. A member of the entertainment committee came in and started to set up a Wii and the jukebox started to play Celion Dion, fearful that someone would think it was one of my selections and all credibility would be destroyed I drained my pint and made a swift retreat back to the cabin.

One thing is guaranteed with the sudden change of weather it seems highly unlikely that the final Sing along Sail away will take place on the sun-deck on eight, very near our cabin. I think we have been saved, although we were both keen to witness the spectacle in full with our own eyes.

Jet Lag

Don't know if I'm coming or going?
If I'm meant to be asleep or awake?
I'm hungry in the middle of the night.

When will this pass?

It's not good!

English Riots (with retrospect)

It was vile sitting in our hotel room in Washington as information slowly filtered through, initially it took a long time for any accurate details to reach us. There was little coverage on America news networks (who seem to believe that the world does not extend beyond the fifty States), until the very last days of rioting. All information we could obtain was via the Internet and those social networking sites where blame was positioned for mobilising these idiots in the first place; even the usually accurate BBC news website seemed to play down the whole thing. Earlier in  the week we had visited the 9/11 Ground Zero Museum and workshop, and the images of a Nation attached (even from within) were very pertinent.

The whole thing was characterised by the image below of a lady jumping from a burning during one of the first nights of violence and looting.

We were seeing familiar areas being destroyed and of course thought of loved ones living & working in close proximity to the violence. We all felt numb and detached being away form the UK at this time, matters were certainly not helped by the seeming impossibility of obtaining any accurate news reporting.

A terrible time.

Whilst the aftershocks continue, there seems to be a general return to normality, we returned to our Green and pleasant land on Sunday and saw little evidence of burnt out buildings and anarchy travelling back to the Midlands from Heathrow. Thankfully Staffordshire was not affected; unusual as a County we are usually all to keen to jump on any band-wagon, if a little slow. Bearing that in mind perhaps our teens will kick off in  a month or so, just as things have truly died down?

Of course the true English character rapidly came through once dawn broke, bringing the arrival of hundreds of riot wombles to clean up their communities, redressing the balance in contradiction to the very small percentage of yobbo's.

Shit List

Rioters. August 2011 England

You do not speak for us all!

Panic on the streets of Birmingham!

Panic on the streets of London!

I very much like ...

Dave Hause- "Resolutions"