A small matter in The Grand Scheme Of Things, but TICTH the online job application form I was filling in this afternoon for the Scottish Qualifications Authority.
The form itself was fine - everything filled in beautifully - but when I got to the Equal Opportunity page, the bit that asked for your marital status had only three options: Married, Single or "prefer not to say", none of which really applies. If they want to know, why can't they offer options for those of us who are widowed, separated, divorced, common-law or in a Civil Partnership?
I tried leaving it blank, but it was having none of it, and wouldn't let me past the page. With any luck, the fact that I put "Mrs" as my title and mentioned in my supporting statement that I'm trying to rebuild my life after my husband's death will give them a hint ...
TICTH the "gentlemen," and I use that in it's very loosest definition, who were having a barney outside my flat at some ungodly hour this morning. I suspect alcohol may have been an initiator, but there was a great deal of effing and shouting. It didn't get much beyond "F*ck you" "F*ck off yourself", rinse and repeat, then something that sounded like a blow and someone else telling them to cool it (or similar).
I wasn't sleeping well anyway, and was woken up by this one a couple of occasions. I did not need it.
It was audio rather than visual... I had contemplated getting out of bed and leaning out the window to tell them to shut up, but at that point I heard what sounded like a blow. So I stayed exactly where I was and dived under the duvet! (the sounds moved off and I managed to get back to sleep for a bit)
Last time I witnessed something/got involved, I was summoned to court four times, turned up in person three times and on the last time of asking the defendant pleaded guilty before we actually got into court so we were all sent home. Again. (But finally rather than you'll be back...)
I foiled* an attempted robbery at our local Co-Op back in 2004. Lots of interviews with the Police, an identity parade, and a summons to Court.
Just the one trip to Court, as the defendant pleaded Guilty at the last minute, so at least I didn't have to stand up and be told that YOUR EVIDENCE IS NOTHING BUT A TISSUE OF LIES!! and all that stuff.
The guy got 4 years in jail...
*The would-be robber pushed his way behind the till, assaulting the 8-months pregnant cashier whilst doing so. As he tried to leave, I bashed him over the head with a bottle of beer. In the fillums, he would have fallen over, but he didn't - so I bashed him over the head again, with a second bottle of beer. He still didn't fall over, but rushed off, soaked in beer and broken glass, and therefore easily identifiable. The idiot got into his car, and drove off past the shop, making it easy for the observant 10-year old nephew of another of the shop staff to take his number . The Police arrived very quickly - as the idiot drove past! - and so were in hot pursuit straightaway. The DS who interviewed me later had some difficulty in stifling his laughter, having seen the shop video of me valiantly bashing away with bottle after bottle. I suspect I was lucky not to have been charged with assault myself.
A well-known C of E liturgist, in one of his books, suggested that clergy who might be rather 'busy' at Christmas would do well to think of celebrating the Incarnation privately at some point during August...
When I was serving in West Africa, Christmas was followed almost immediately by Harvest Festival. It made sense in a climate where the rainy season lasted from May to October and crops were harvested a month or two later.
@ Bishops Finger. The funny part is I have just about finished my Christmas shopping as I do it all year for just that reason even though now retired as it spreads out the cost as Huia suggested. I just do not want to think about it before Advent, let alone in the middle of Summer.
I am CTH procrastination. I've had an amazing abundance of free time and done the square root of bugger all in that time which is dispiriting, as there is quite a few bits and bobs on my to-do list.
It is 98 degrees F where I live right now, and I just received my first Christmas catalogue in the mail.
I don't know if this will turn out to be, as forecast, the hottest day of the year so far in the UK, but it seems that Christmas card catalogues are like flying ants - turn the temperature up a notch and out they all fly.
The first Christmas catalogue of 2020 landed on my doormat this morning.
In the US, some people are celebrating Christmas early--or at least putting up artificial trees and such--to boost morale. IIRC, some vendors are happy to sell to them.
TICTH the loudmouthed Trumpistas who shouted across me during my infusion the other day. (I asked the nurse, as I always do, for a chair in a quiet corner; this one said, apologetically, "This is all I have, and I'm afraid it's not very quiet." Understatement Alert!)
As I got settled, they were discussing the McCloskeys, who screamed and pointed firearms at a crowd of peaceful protesters on their way to the mayor's nearby domicile. That the protesters were peaceful is not in question; the entire affair was caught on video, from numerous viewpoints.
But this pair were talking about it from the McCloskeys' (demonstrably false) account: that the protesters broke down a decorative wrought iron gate across a sidewalk to get in (nope: the gate was open, and the protesters walked in without damaging it - and the McCloskeys have refused to release the home surveillance videos that would have shown how it was later damaged), that members of the crowd - or "mob," as my fellow patients were pleased to call it - shouted threats: to kill the McCloskeys, to kill their dog, to take over and move into their house, to burn their house down. But the videos don't back up any of that.
I finally pointed that out, only to be told that "you can't always trust videos." I was called a "libtard," although they were visibly startled when I dissected the problems with the couple's unsafe gun handling. They moved on to discuss their mutual loathing of Hillary! and other subhumans, including George Floyd ("He was a thug! a felon!"), while I focused on getting my blood pressure down from its ridiculously high level, so that I could have my damned infusion and get the hell out of there. Between the two of them and the oldies radio station that someone turned on, it was impossible to concentrate. Please, Lord, don't let me encounter either of them again, ever, amen.
Crikey Ross - that's the absolute last thing you needed. From what I've read about the McCloskeys, they'd make the neighbours from hell look like the neighbours from heaven.
There are a surprising number of people of that sort around here.
My blood pressure was an astonishing (and rather scary) 199 over 76 the first time the nurse took it; half an hour of slow in-through-the-nose-out-through-the-mouth breathing later, it was a more reasonable 136 over 76.
Did I mention that the both of the Fox News acolytes had their (paper, so they probably don’t own their own) masks down around their necks the entire time they were in there?
There are a surprising number of people of that sort around here.
My blood pressure was an astonishing (and rather scary) 199 over 76 the first time the nurse took it; half an hour of slow in-through-the-nose-out-through-the-mouth breathing later, it was a more reasonable 136 over 76.
Did I mention that the both of the Fox News acolytes had their (paper, so they probably don’t own their own) masks down around their necks the entire time they were in there?
Over here staff would have required them to wear masks while in hospital, I think.
How extraordinary. Round here it tends to be dumped in places that are difficult to see until you arrive at it. Furtive places.
I'm not a flytipper, but if I was, my priority would be somewhere where I could tip without getting caught. Penny's furtive places meet that criterion - but so do Priscilla's beauty spots in (importantly) the middle of nowhere: they're both the sort of place where you're unlikely to meet someone else.
Comments
Absolutely, every one of the bitey bastards.
The form itself was fine - everything filled in beautifully - but when I got to the Equal Opportunity page, the bit that asked for your marital status had only three options: Married, Single or "prefer not to say", none of which really applies. If they want to know, why can't they offer options for those of us who are widowed, separated, divorced, common-law or in a Civil Partnership?
I tried leaving it blank, but it was having none of it, and wouldn't let me past the page. With any luck, the fact that I put "Mrs" as my title and mentioned in my supporting statement that I'm trying to rebuild my life after my husband's death will give them a hint ...
I wasn't sleeping well anyway, and was woken up by this one a couple of occasions. I did not need it.
Last time I witnessed something/got involved, I was summoned to court four times, turned up in person three times and on the last time of asking the defendant pleaded guilty before we actually got into court so we were all sent home. Again. (But finally rather than you'll be back...)
Just the one trip to Court, as the defendant pleaded Guilty at the last minute, so at least I didn't have to stand up and be told that YOUR EVIDENCE IS NOTHING BUT A TISSUE OF LIES!! and all that stuff.
The guy got 4 years in jail...
*The would-be robber pushed his way behind the till, assaulting the 8-months pregnant cashier whilst doing so. As he tried to leave, I bashed him over the head with a bottle of beer. In the fillums, he would have fallen over, but he didn't - so I bashed him over the head again, with a second bottle of beer. He still didn't fall over, but rushed off, soaked in beer and broken glass, and therefore easily identifiable. The idiot got into his car, and drove off past the shop, making it easy for the observant 10-year old nephew of another of the shop staff to take his number
I'm not a violent person, but...
TICTH those to-do lists that Never Get Done...
Or, as My Old Dad used to say 'Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow!'.
I don't know if this will turn out to be, as forecast, the hottest day of the year so far in the UK, but it seems that Christmas card catalogues are like flying ants - turn the temperature up a notch and out they all fly.
The first Christmas catalogue of 2020 landed on my doormat this morning.
O dear.
As I got settled, they were discussing the McCloskeys, who screamed and pointed firearms at a crowd of peaceful protesters on their way to the mayor's nearby domicile. That the protesters were peaceful is not in question; the entire affair was caught on video, from numerous viewpoints.
But this pair were talking about it from the McCloskeys' (demonstrably false) account: that the protesters broke down a decorative wrought iron gate across a sidewalk to get in (nope: the gate was open, and the protesters walked in without damaging it - and the McCloskeys have refused to release the home surveillance videos that would have shown how it was later damaged), that members of the crowd - or "mob," as my fellow patients were pleased to call it - shouted threats: to kill the McCloskeys, to kill their dog, to take over and move into their house, to burn their house down. But the videos don't back up any of that.
I finally pointed that out, only to be told that "you can't always trust videos." I was called a "libtard," although they were visibly startled when I dissected the problems with the couple's unsafe gun handling. They moved on to discuss their mutual loathing of Hillary! and other subhumans, including George Floyd ("He was a thug! a felon!"), while I focused on getting my blood pressure down from its ridiculously high level, so that I could have my damned infusion and get the hell out of there. Between the two of them and the oldies radio station that someone turned on, it was impossible to concentrate. Please, Lord, don't let me encounter either of them again, ever, amen.
<votive> for Ross and peace of mind and body!
If such a ghastly thing happened to me in a hospital, I would call VERY LOUDLY for Security...
My blood pressure was an astonishing (and rather scary) 199 over 76 the first time the nurse took it; half an hour of slow in-through-the-nose-out-through-the-mouth breathing later, it was a more reasonable 136 over 76.
Did I mention that the both of the Fox News acolytes had their (paper, so they probably don’t own their own) masks down around their necks the entire time they were in there?
Over here staff would have required them to wear masks while in hospital, I think.
Likewise. I am on the point of consigning myself entirely......
I have written an impressive August to-do list to try to get myself back on track.
https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/flytippers-ruin-one-wales-most-18707559
I'm not a flytipper, but if I was, my priority would be somewhere where I could tip without getting caught. Penny's furtive places meet that criterion - but so do Priscilla's beauty spots in (importantly) the middle of nowhere: they're both the sort of place where you're unlikely to meet someone else.