52/52 2017

Week 52
25 - 31 December



Jamie got no fewer than five fire engines for Christmas this year. He loves the emergency services as part of his wider affinity for all large vehicles and, although we haven't explained the nitty gritty of fires, car crashes, death, injury, criminality and so forth, he has thoroughly absorbed the concept that blue lights mean they're rushing to help people, and is happy about that. If you ask him about them he will say "help people" long before he gets to "nee-nah" which confuses outsiders.

39/52 2017

Week 39
25 September - 01 October



We sometimes go to a garden centre that has a little soft play area next to the cafe. This was the week when they were just starting to set out the Christmas displays, and Jamie was absolutely enchanted by this bench. Just wanted to sit on it amid the pretty lights. No climbing, no fussing, just sitting, until the lure of the soft play dragged him away again.

52/52

Welcome to the final 52 Project photo!



It's not a great photo, I admit. Like many families we've spent the week of 18-24 December frantically trying to make sure that Christmas runs as smoothly as possible, balancing routine against festivity, working out meals against supermarket opening times, doing last minute wrapping and so on. Just to make it that bit more challenging we went to visit Steve's mum - only for about 30 hours but that means as well as presents there was all the overnight stuff and all the eating stuff and all the stuff in case stuff gets covered in food before, during or after the digestive process... So there have been few photos and even fewer good photos.

Nevertheless. I'm glad that I did this and I intend to do it again next year. One photo a week is a nice amount to spool through and watch the changes. It's been an achievable blogging target and one I would not have managed without the regularity of a weekly post and the inspiration of just picking one photo from the previous seven days.

51/52

I spent all weekend wondering which of these pictures I wanted to be this week's 52 Project photo but I really couldn't decide, so now it's Monday morning and I'm posting both of them.

First up, we have Jamie's second trip to the German Christmas Market in Birmingham. The first time I took him, he was all of about 7 weeks old and spent almost the entire time we were there snuggled up asleep. This time, he's rather more active... we had christmassy songs in the car on the way there and then let him loose in the toddler section of Teenie Weenies soft play (level 2 of the Moor Street car park; totally recommend it). Gave him lunch there as well, and then set out into the Market - upon which he promptly fell asleep in the sling on my lap. But eventually he woke up and seemed to be very interested in all the lights and sounds and smells.



(Also, I love his reindeer boots. They're warm for him and soft for me.)

The second photo is of Jamie about to read The Shepherd's Crown, the last Discworld book by the late Terry Pratchett.



No, really. He likes me to read out loud. Usually this takes the form of him selecting one of his rather shorter and more age-appropriate books and holding it up to the nearest adult with an expectant look on his face, but now every so often he'll climb up on me and reach for my current book, pulling it off the shelf if I let him. And then I read out loud while he cuddles up and occasionally gives the book a respectful stroke.

Prepared

I knew there was a reason I'd put so much time and effort into getting ready for Christmas well ahead of time... we went to a big family meal with a handful of children small portable germ warfare agents present, and now Steve and I are both suffering from Winter Lurgy. Yesterday in particular was hideous, with a mother of a migraine that actually made me throw up (usually they only make me feel nauseous).

Thankfully, having everything sorted out already, along with me not being "at work", has meant that I've been able to properly rest up every day so I'm nothing like as floored as I would be if I was still thrashing myself to pack CDs. Since I'm not that wiped out, I'm able to tackle a bit more of the household stuff than I otherwise would, which in turn gives Steve half a chance to recover when he staggers in from work.

It does mean I've had to put the business development stuff on hold. Again. Yup, the hopes and dreams I had for that referral to the Council for Disabled People being the business development support I needed were unfounded. It turns out that this particular project is set up to help "voluntary and community organisations supporting disabled people" rather than helping disabled people set up businesses that intend to serve anyone, disabled or otherwise. It was a completely inappropriate referral and all we can guess is that the person who referred me was just panicking and opting for the first project with "disability" in the title.

So I'm pretty much figuring it out on my own now, with some helpful printouts from Business Link and any number of PDFs on the HMRC website. Most of the basics are in place - including, today, the good news that my PO Box will be up and running at the beginning of the year - but I have kind of lost momentum. I think I may be best off calling it a proper Christmas/New Year holiday and picking it up again after my birthday.

Also in the New Year, I'll be interviewing for a new PA, as the lady who has been working with me this year has gone on Maternity Leave. I'm quite hopeful, and a lot more confident now that this is the second time going through the recruitment process.

Despite the various setbacks, I'm still feeling really positive about things, and as usual I'm very much looking forward to Christmas. So let's round off with my really awful snapshot of my really lovely Tree.

(edit to add title!)

I am that good

Feeling rather pleased with myself at the moment.

I've more or less stopped flustering and panicking about self-employment (remember that five weeks ago the concept hadn't crossed my mind) and I'm making good, steady progress towards being set up and ready to go. I've completed about half of the online business course, and about two-thirds of my business plan. I've taken care of a number of practical issues (things like the VOA assessment for whether I'd have to pay business rates) and I have some sensible questions to ask the advisor I'm meeting with this week. I've picked a name, set up an email address, installed a suite of office software, done some market research, got some quotes for logo-type artwork... the list goes on*.

On top of this, I'm also ready for Christmas. Steve's having a bit of a trying time at work right now and tends to come home with his brain dribbling out of his ears, so I took charge. Step one, I made a list of people we should buy presents for and a list of people we should send cards to. Once he'd approved these, step two, I wrote out all the cards for him to add his signature. Step three, we determined who we were likely to see during December and dug up addresses for the others, and I sorted out the envelopes all nice and ready for the postbox. Step four was a list of suggested gifts from online retailers for almost everyone on the present list, approved and purchased.

Step five was an actual shopping-centre trip to dig up gifts for those we hadn't found anything for online. Step six, I've been wrapping and labelling the gifts as they have come into the house. We are now at a point where the completed boxes of wrapped presents have been dispatched to the people we're not going to be seeing this year, and there are a couple of plastic boxes of wrapped presents and a stack of cards ready for the people we are planning to see.

We are, in fact, all set for Christmas, which is pretty good considering that we're still in the first week of December. Steve isn't sure whether to be amazed or disturbed, but is presenting it as concrete proof of my abilities to anyone who asks him what it is I'm planning to do and whether I'm any good at it.

*by the way, one of the items remaining on the To Do list is finding someone to hold my hand through the website process. Any takers?

Keeping warm

So, I'm at home all day now, more or less every day. The thing I currently miss most about work is that it was warm. The weather has turned quite chilly - as one might reasonably expect, what with it being nearly December - and so it's a good time for those of us who maybe can't quite move around enough to keep ourselves warm to remind ourselves of the current advice in the form of the Keep Warm Keep Well campaign.

Okay, so as usual there's ample opportunity to snigger at the naivety of those who wrote it, for example the way they think that despite the level of poverty with which many elderly and disabled people live, we'll all have central heating with a thermostat that works. It's also very easy to get angry about the failings of the Warm Front grants.

Nevertheless there's a lot of good tips and advice in there but some of it does seem a bit... mutually exclusive. For instance:

"Fit draught-proofing to seal any gaps around windows and doors."
"Remember to close curtains and shut doors to keep heat in the rooms you use most."
does seem to clash a bit with:
"If you use a fire or heater in your bedroom at night, always keep a window and door open."
"Keep your home well ventilated."

Am I meant to be sealing myself in, or trying to get a breeze coming through? I'm just not sure any more.

On balance I've opted for sealing myself in - it's warmer that way, and there are worse ways to go than carbon monoxide poisoning*, where from what I understand you feel drunk and then you fall asleep, which is a reasonable summary of my day to day life anyway.

It's a good tip about keeping the blinds or curtains closed, and it makes a noticeable difference. However when you're stuck alone in the house all day, even if you don't have depression or SAD, it's all too easy for your mood to plummet, so I'm making a point of spending at least a couple of hours sitting by the window with the blinds open trying to enjoy what natural light there is.

It's also a good tip about having plenty of hot drinks, although again, not without drawbacks. I know I'm not the only disabled person who, when having a painful day, doesn't drink as much as she should, in order to minimise the number of excruciating climbs up and down Mount Staircase just to pay a visit.

So I've formulated my own advice. Ready?

If you can, spend as much time as possible out of the house and in a place where someone else pays the heating bill.

This slightly contradicts the official advice about not going out unless absolutely necessary, depending on whether you read it as "don't leave the house" or merely "don't spend time hanging around outdoors". And of course for many of us it's impossible - or at the very least, the cost of taxis would outweigh the cost of properly heating our homes. But if it's in any way an option, my inexpert advice would be to do it. Spend an afternoon in the library, sitting by a window on the sunnier side of the building. Go to a shopping mall and sit under the skylight watching the world go by. If possible, find some volunteer work, then there's free tea and coffee too. Join in with a free course at the Community Centre even if it's a topic that doesn't raise your interest. See people, get sunlight, get your money's worth from your council tax, because there are few more frustrating ways of spending a day than cooped up indoors with the curtains closed, shivering.

* I am a very fortunate disabled person who lives in a centrally heated house with reasonably-sized rooms. I am not sealing myself into a tiny bedsit flat with a gas fire, so please do not worry - or at least, not about me...

Not Blown Up After All

... just a bit tired out.

The New Year fireworks were a resounding success, with the only casualty being one of L's gloves which got singed by a lighter. Then Steve and I enjoyed one day to rest, one day back at work, and one day to get the house passably tidy in readiness for my mum to come and stay for a few days.

We got lots of nice Christmas presents from my family, including a shiny and very spiffy set of saucepans. Nice as they are, sadly, these have not been the accessibility revolution Mr Rhodes seems to think. Firstly, as you will see from their lovely little "42" diagram on that page, the recommended angles only work if you have kitchen surfaces at well below waist height. Secondly, if you watch the video, you'll see that to drain from the saucepan, you need to hold on to the knob on top of the lid as you tilt - fine when it's empty, but in a real world situation that means your fingers are right in the path of the concentrated column of steam as you drain the boiling water away. And thirdly, you actually need more strength in your arms to manipulate it than with a standard pan, because there's no way to get a two-handed grip in order to use the handle as a lever to create stability.

So don't buy them to try and make cooking easier. But, that said, they are very nice saucepans, with a lifetime guarantee. Using the variable draining-holes in the rim of the lid to release varying amounts of steam is handy. And they are fully backward-compatible with a regular colander in the normal way. ;-)

Christmas dealt with, it was just about time for my birthday, which was the main reason for mum visiting. I took down my lovely tree and packed it neatly away for next year.

Between all of them, and Christmas and my birthday, my family have bought me just about every book that was on my Amazon Wishlist. I was absolutely bowled over. I always have to read every book at least twice before I can consider it not-new, and I can't read just new books (it's an ME thing) so this should keep me excited about having books of newness for at least three months, if not longer.

It was good having mum about for a few days. We've always talked lots. As a kid, she would tuck me in to bed every night and we'd chat for a few minutes. It was my opportunity to talk, as there was no getting a word in edgeways with my sister about. In sixth form, my Thursday morning free period was designated as our Cream Cake Day. When I lived in my little flat, I would come over to use the washing machine and stay for a cuppa and a bit of a chat about nothing very much at all. When I got sick, we had a cup of tea most days, and it added routine and a strong element of familiarity to a world which had been turned upside down. Since I've moved to Warwickshire, we still email or speak on the phone if we have anything particular to say... but it was nice to once again just sit and enjoy a quiet, non-pressured chatter with each other.

That said, it was also nice when mum had left, to be able to come home from work and fall apart by myself, without feeling that I had to put a sociable face on. I love my mum but we probably shouldn't live together.

The people at work gave me cake and flowers, which made me squee with delight. Steve is getting me a watch, just as soon as we actually have a spare half-hour to go into town together so I can try some on. He's also sort-of got me a combination printer/scanner/photocopier doodah, which will link to our wireless network and allow us to print from anywhere in the house. He says this doesn't count as a birthday present though, since it's for both of us to use and it wasn't wrapped, he just happened to buy it the evening before my birthday. I think it counts though. It was definitely a surprise - he only went out for a pint of milk.

So far being 27 isn't much different from being 26, except it's increased that feeling of being stuck in a rut.

2008 - A Roundup

I did this last year so I might as well do it this year too. Even though this time I haven't had any major life changes like moving house or getting a new job, it's worth bearing in mind that Steve and I started 2008 with a spirited attempt to blow ourselves up so the entirety of the last 12 months has been something of a bonus. It's also slightly disturbing that my first complete 12 months of post-getting-ill paid employment has been so centred around the benefits system.


January
In contrast to last year, my birthday was a bit of a non-event, consisting of me buying myself some cake to take into work, and Steve getting a card for me while I was out. Over the next few days things improved. Full of positivity about life, I started an attempt at some self-administered Graded Exercise Therapy which lasted all of about two days before Steve begged me to stop it and I felt cruddy enough to acquiesce. The extra pain, faints, weakness and cognitive difficulties from those days lasted almost two weeks.

February
February saw the Department of Work and Pensions Secretary Peter Hain leaving his position after a row over his failure to disclose donations for his failed attempt to become deputy leader of the Labour Party. His defence consisted basically of trying to prove that he was incompetent rather than a fraudster, a defence the DWP refuses to hear from its "customers" but apparently finds acceptable from its management. His replacement, James Purnell, started gleefully outlining "reforms" to the welfare system, based largely on a report from a City banker who had spent three whole weeks studying the system before spouting a lot of inaccurate data largely based on his own personal opinions. I got very upset about this as I was struggling with work and an overwhelming awareness that if I didn't cope, I would have to throw myself on the mercy of the "reformed" system.

I was also struggling with a Tax Credits cockup from several years ago, which makes it even more baffling why I decided to re-apply for Disability Living Allowance.

March
I got my forms finished, mostly by typing it up rather than trying to fit the ins and outs and variations of my day-to-day difficulties into the boxes.

"The total was 48, yes, forty-eight pages. The word-count was 26,019. That's twenty-six thousand and nineteen words. That's more than the entirety of my GCSE English Language and Literature courseworks."

My new GP confirmed that she would be supporting my DLA claim, and several people kindly wrote supporting statements about their direct experience of how my condition affects me. Just as I got the DLA bundle completed and sent off, the Tax Credits people started up again...

April
While the ball rolled on the Tax Credits and DLA issues, I wrote the most popular blogpost I have ever written... The Gorilla Theory. It gets linked to all over the place and people keep telling me how much it has helped them. I'm very proud of it.

Five months after I had alerted them to the issue, the DWP sent me an amusing letter about how they had paid me too much money when I started work (they forgot to stop putting my Incapacity Benefit into my bank account despite me asking nicely) and now they wanted it back. It was amusing because even though the error was entirely theirs, the letter implied that it was my fault and I'd actively claimed the money on purpose and threatened me with the full weight of THE LAW if I did not arrange to repay the money immediately.

May
As is becoming usual, May started with Blogging Against Disablism Day. The hot disability topic was still the welfare reforms but I opted to write some musings about equality and difference:

"Equal does not mean identical for the same reason that different does not mean inferior, or, for that matter, superior."

I started to think about my career direction (or lack thereof) and Steve scared the hell out of me by taking half a dose of paracetamol.

My DLA claim was turned down, but unlike 2007, this time I was ready to fight it to appeal.


June
I finally bit the bullet and admitted that 20 hours over 5 days packing CDs is too much for me, and asked for help from everyone I could think of. The agencies who are supposed to help were the least helpful of all. My boss and I agreed that I would work 17.5 hours over 4 days and have Wednesdays off as a sort of mini-weekend to recover from Monday and Tuesday, and prepare for Thursday and Friday. This has worked incredibly well for me and I haven't needed a sick-day since.

The Tax Credits Appeals and Complaints department reviewed my appeal bundle and agreed that I don't owe them any money. I could claim Tax Credits as a working disabled person and be something like £3k a year better off, but I don't dare.

Remploy offered me £50 to falsify information, and to make it even worse they wouldn't even tell me what that information was - just sent me signature pages of forms.

July
Steve finished his exams and started work again and our financial position eased up almost instantly. He could have claimed benefit when our savings ran out, but having spent a couple of years watching in horrified amazement the merry dances that people like Pip, Bendy Girl and I have to perform not just before and during our genuine and necessary claims, but for months and years afterwards, he decided not unreasonably that he'd have to be starving first.

August
I didn't blog at all in August. There was a lot going on and I didn't have the brain-time to write any of it up. Steve and I went out and about a little bit more with our new-found income, but we also had to adjust to the new balancing act of my care needs and the effects of my job vs him being at work all day and no longer having all the time in the world for looking after me and keeping the household running. Social Services assessed me for help and I was approved for Direct Payments for care, as well as an emergency backup care plan.

I applied and was interviewed for a part-time admin job - didn't get it, but there was lots of positive feedback and it was a good confidence boost. We also went to Jiva and Munkt0n's wedding which was quite possibly the loveliest wedding I have ever attended.

September
With my DLA appeal drawing closer I found myself unable to concentrate properly on anything. Christmas orders started coming in at work and keeping on top of things, while do-able, was taking everything I had.

October
I won my DLA Appeal. It was backdated to the application date in February which meant I was suddenly owed a lump sum in excess of £2,000. I am proud of having introduced the Appeals panel to Spoon Theory.

After some prodding, I also got an official response about the Remploy problems from back in June. It was as pathetic as I have come to expect.

Then it was off to Lowestoft for a week's holiday with Pip and The Boy. This would have been a great idea, and I felt extremely well-rested, except for the bit where I came home to discover that I had to fit in a whole lot of extra housework because while I'd been away Steve had been having one of those weeks.

November
I finally got to go into town to open a bank account in order to receive Direct Payments, to pay for the care Social Services assessed me as needing.

"The whole thing is a bit chicken and egg, really - to get Direct Payments, I have to go into town and set up a bank account, but that's a major excursion for me, so really, I need Direct Payments to pay a PA to go into town with me to set up a bank account so I can get Direct Payments to pay a PA..."

I had another job interview which didn't go so well as it turned out to be for a full-time job, and much as I would like to, there is no way I can do full-time work.

Then my laptop died with a virus of great horribleness. Never before had I picked up a computer virus which my antivirus program couldn't swiftly and efficiently dispatch. We ended up with no real option but a complete fresh reinstall of Windows and then very carefully scanning and replacing files from backups. I know I'm an addict, but I didn't realise it would upset me as much as it did. I will be more careful.

December
Steve and I underwent the ultimate test of the strength of a relationship - we went to IKEA. We survived.

The Welfare Reforms mooted in February came to the fore yet again. The banker's report is being treated as rock-solid fact, and the BBC is somehow combining stories of mass redundancies with the stereotypical image of benefit claimants as scroungers who cannot be bothered. It scares me.

I got my Christmas Tree and decorated it, and with a stack of assorted presents underneath it was the centrepiece of a wonderful Christmas.

And now, I understand from my charming assistant that the fireworks have been purchased and the weather tonight looks to be cold but clear. Hopefully, see you on the other side - Happy New Year!

Standard Christmas Post

That was a nice Christmas. Steve and I had four days off work together which hasn't happened since last Christmas, and that was less a holiday than a hectic whirl of visiting people in between nap-breaks in our hotel room, so really, we needed this.

For me it was five days, since Christmas Eve fell on a Wednesday which is my day off anyway. We'd both worked steadily at getting the house sorted out so that we wouldn't have to DO anything much - gold star to Steve who deep-cleaned the entire bathroom including the ceiling - so on Christmas Eve all I really had to do was press the button on the Roomba, which isn't taxing housework by anybody's standards. After dinner a friend came round bearing gifts and a card, and it felt very Christmassy indeed.

Christmas Day started with a glorious lie-in. At about 11am, Steve's mother came round, and then we started on the presents. My highlights were the set of KnitPicks Options interchangeable circular knitting needles, which I knew I was getting, and the iPod nano which I had no idea about. Both of those were from Steve. I think Steve's best present was the 1.5 kilos of jelly beans from one of his friends.

Christmas dinner consisted of sausages, cooked and served by Steve, with some roast potatoes with onion and bacon bits, mixed veggies, and gravy. Many people seem appalled by this, including Steve's workmates and my mother, but our logic was sound:

1) We wanted a meal we would enjoy. Steve knows he cooks sausages to perfection. However neither of us have ever attempted to cook a turkey, and my obvious limitations mean that even a regular roast dinner can be quite an adventure. So we opted for definitely-yummy sausages over a potentially disastrous attempt at Christmas Turkey Dinner With All The Trimmings.

2) We don't get much time off work together. There were better things for us to do with this precious four-day block than spend a day prepping, a day cooking, and two days washing-up.

3) Not to mention two weeks of leftovers.

4) If we happen to fancy a Turkey Dinner With All The Trimmings we can go to a carvery any week of the year and stack more (properly-cooked) grub on our plates than we can eat. We're in a fortunate position where it's not like Christmas dinner represents the one decent meal of the winter.

Plus, of course, by the time my mother phoned and expressed her horror at Sausages For Christmas Dinner, she hadn't even eaten yet, while at our house the dishes were done, the ice-cream was eaten, and Steve's mother was giving us both a run for our money on the Wii. So in the absence of the dedicated chef (mum's husband is not only an excellent cook, but actually enjoys doing it) I think our version was just fine.

I got a nap in while Steve and his mum went for a walk, and then she went home and we settled down for a nice relaxing evening.

Boxing Day was more of the same. A lie-in and a couple of hours pottering about the house playing with presents, followed by a leisurely jaunt into Warwick and a cream tea at a ye olde tea shoppe near the castle. Saturday was a lie-in, bacon sandwiches, and a trip out for some milk which turned into a couple of hours with friends at a slightly remote pub near Cubbington, complete with roaring log fire and dogs in the bar. Sunday's lie-in was followed by a trip to Kenilworth Castle, which was fun. It was also a lot more accessible than I thought it would be, so we'll have to go back in the summer when hopefully I'll be a bit more mobile again, and we can appreciate it without the pressing issue of freezing cold.

So, today is back to work day. Notable absence of lie-ins and weirdness of being in the house by myself all morning.

I don't want to post this, because posting this means my holiday is over... :(

Tree!

If you were here at this time last year, you'll know that I love Christmas. Last year Steve and I went back to Lowestoft to see everyone for Christmas, which was nice, but this year we're staying at home instead. I'm really looking forward to it.

Of course it did mean that I needed something I haven't had for several years: a Christmas tree. Last year, well, there was going to be a tree at mum's house, and given that I had quite enough on my plate with getting suitcases packed, and gifts bought and wrapped, not to mention still settling in to living here and having just started a new job, getting a tree didn't seem like any kind of priority. In the years before that, I lived in my tiny little flat, so all there was room for was a tree-shaped ornament. But now... this is my home, I will be here all Christmas, I have room for a tree, and by the gods, a tree I shall have.

My quest for a tree didn't go according to plan (go ahead, look surprised). I'd figured on getting one from those esteemed purveyors of seasonal tat, Woolworths. No sooner had I vocalised this plan than Woolworths went under and the Final Clearance Sale started. By the time I'd got round to my day off, and gone into the local branch in search of a tree, the "Christmas" section consisted of a few folorn packs of baubles scattered on the otherwise barren shelves.

Time to formulate Plan B. I started by considering my specification. I definitely wanted an artificial tree rather than a real one. I wanted it to be bigger than a shelf-ornament (so I could hang decorations on it), but preferably no taller than me (so I could hang decorations on it). I wanted it green, without fake snow or glitter. I did not want a fibreoptic tree and, although I hadn't realised it was an option, I prefer my tree to be the conventional way up.

This is a taller order than you might first think...

I trundled along the rest of the high street but couldn't find any trees that fit my spec. We tried local supermarkets without success. On Saturday we went to Solihull and looked in John Lewis. They had a lovely Christmas section, but all the trees were far too big. There was one pre-lit tree which was just so pretty I could have forgiven it for being too big, but it was something like £175 and my budget was more in the £30 region.

But then, the skies parted and I was advised to look in Homebase or Focus (I'm unsure to what extent they are one and the same thing). So on Monday morning, Steve dropped me off at the retail park on his way to work, and I went into Focus, and I found their last 4ft artificial green right-way-up unlit unsnowy unglittery tree! And I was happy! So happy! The tree plus a dozen or so decorations remained well under my £30 budget, and I went home exuding joy from every pore.

Things have been a little hectic since then - work on Monday afternoon, work Christmas do on Monday evening, recovering on Tuesday morning, work on Tuesday afternoon, last knitting group of the year on Tuesday evening... however Wednesday is my day off, so I assembled and decorated my tree late on Tuesday night, after knitting. Here it is in all its glory:


I am so happy. There's presents underneath it now and everything.

Oh, and while we're at it with the Christmassy goodness, remember, just like last year, the final UK posting date for Christmas cards is Saturday 20th December. It'll take you ten minutes. Make someone happy.

It's that time of year

A little song about Santa.

First of all, a big thank you to all the people who left such supportive comments on my last, rather depressing, post. Judicious application of cups of tea, hugs from Steve, a Chinese takeaway, a DVD (Quick review: Colour of Magic, I liked it, David Jason does a cracking job as Rincewind but I can't help wondering what will happen if/when they do Mort, which requires Rincewind and Albert to simultaneously be in the same room), and a good night's sleep have seen me back onto an even keel.

Now for some good news: my laptop, my gorgeous shiny laptop, is resurrected.

Last weekend some sort of particularly nasty... thing... triggered and wriggled its pernicious little way all through my system. One of the specifically nasty features was that it blocked access to the sites for my anti-virus and my anti-adware/spyware updates. It did something to the way my computer accessed google as well, so that clicking any results links from a google search would take me instead to sites for more nasties. The computer would freeze and/or turn off completely and every reboot pushed the nastiness deeper into the system.

Steve did his best with it but it was bedded right in there. Eventually we took the decision to scrub the computer completely and start right over from a fresh install of Windows. After all, we had all the original disks and codes and whatnot, plus a backup of most of my files on an external drive. The backup wasn't perhaps as recent as it should have been, but I know all the important files from this year were on there - all I'd be missing would be a few pictures, half-finished blog posts, savegames and stuff.

And lo, for on the third day it rose again, and here I am, trying to get back into typing on a full-size keyboard (Quick review of eeePC: Handy. Functional. Light. Portable. Small. Very small. But bigger than a phone. On the whole I liked it. But, how can I say this... it's an ideal secondary computer) and desperately trying to remember my passwords for the sites on which I was logged in permanently. I've got most of them now, although I haven't done any shopping yet.

One slight hitch - you know how I was all relaxed because, hey, backups of most of my files on an external drive, nothing to worry about! Well it could help if I could find the aforementioned external drive. It's about the size of a cigarette packet and is somewhere in this house. I'm fairly certain it's not in the kitchen, toilet or bathroom. Unfortunately that's not helpful as this is a three-bedroomed house containing two geeks and therefore any amount of likely-looking wires, defunct remote controls, old mobile phones and various other oojamaflips which get your hopes up but turn out to be Not What You Were Looking For.

Other than that I really need to get on with my Christmas shopping. I think we've already passed the last guaranteed date for getting stuff shipped from the US to the UK before Christmas. I'm also now horribly aware that although within the UK, the last date for which the Post Office guarantees delivery of packages before Christmas is something like 20th December, that doesn't mean by extension that it's okay to order stuff on the 19th and expect it to arrive on time, as it has to be processed first. For our place, depending on factors like how many people we have working, how efficiently our deliveries arrive, and so on, we can process about 150 normal-sized orders in a day. If, on the 19th, we suddenly have 400 orders to process... well, we'll do our best, work overtime, draft in as many extra hands as we can fit in the room, but the room is of finite size and the day is of finite length, so it's likely some people will end up disappointed. Now is the time for online Christmas shopping if you want to be sure of getting the things you need without a panic.

Despite having no idea what to get anyone, I was all super-efficient and made sure people can have an idea of what to get me and a fuss-free way of getting it by making an Amazon wish list. But now I'm worrying that it was a little bit... off... when Mum said "so what sort of things are you after?" to respond by emailing an Amazon link - it feels like making demands. I did follow it up with a more personal email explaining that it's just some ideas and I don't care whether I get all/none/some of the stuff on the list. But even so I can't help thinking that a handwritten letter to Santa, referencing my intention of compliance with the "being good" clause for another year, with pictures cut out of assorted catalogues and stuck on with pritt stick to indicate the Things I Would Like Please, would have been more acceptable.

Actually that's another thing I'd like - a book of etiquette and household tips for such things as Making Christmas Lists As A Grown-up, Avoiding Being Healed At Dinner Parties, and Extracting Loved Ones From The Duvet On Cold Winter Mornings When They Have To Go To Work. I have Nanny Ogg's Cookbook which has much valuable insight, and VideoJug which offers a lot of practical help, but I still often feel like I'm floundering with things like this.

St Ebeneezer

As the esteemed blogger Scaryduck (I am not worthy, etc) recently observed, St Ebeneezer's Day - "the first day that Christmas displays appear in shops and public houses" - has well and truly occurred.

Speaking from the trenches of mail-order dispatch of classical music, I can confirm that the rush has started. The volume of orders is increasing, and the orders being placed have more than a sprinkling of titles like "Concertos and Cantatas for Christmas", not to mention Bach's Christmas Oratorio (available on CD, SACD and DVD from just about any record label you care to name).

I'm guessing that quite a few of the people who read this blog are likely to do at least part of their shopping online, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to make a few generic requests and give a few pointers, on behalf of all those dispatchers for small businesses out there who remember last Christmas and are fearing this one.

... actually, thinking about it, this may work better as a series. Other readers on the frontline should feel free to make additions in the comments.

So onwards, with Part One - Placing Your Order.

Fill out the form properly.

It's not really a difficult form. Put your postcode in the postcode box and your address in the address boxes. If you don't know your address and postcode, go and ask a responsible adult.

For each new line, use a new line of the address box - don't just type in twenty spaces, or half a dozen full stops. You can click in each box, or you can use the TAB key to scroll through them. While you're at it, why not let the shift key enter your life? It's not just there to make the keyboard look nice.

"As Above" is not an address. Nor is "as previous order," as I can't actually see your previous orders unless I stop everything and start rootling around in the database. And please, for pity's sake, don't think you're being clever by asterisking out the first few letters of each line of your name and address "for security". We need your proper address in order to send you the things you have ordered. The postman will not take packages to "** ***ley Road", okay?

You should also know that it's not "the computer" that fixes these things so that you get your goods. It's me, putting my Stalker hat on with the help of Google in a way that would probably have you feeling quite uncomfortable if you knew about it. You may also like to remember that all the time I spend correcting your address, I'm not shipping orders - you're holding up the queue!

Contact details

We're not asking for the fun of it, nor are we likely to sell your data. If we've said that we won't pass your details on, then we really won't. It's one of those big business/small business things. A big business is only ever about the money. A small business, on the other hand, is personal, and all of its employees are going to be trying to provide the sort of service we would like to recieve from others. So we won't pass your phone number to other companies owned by the same multinational conglomerate, or "relevant third parties", and we won't flood your inbox with spam. We're asking for fast contact details because if there's a problem with your order, we'd prefer to be able to let you know as soon as possible, and give you a chance to change your order, rather than waiting for you to contact us several weeks later because your goods have not arrived.

Your credit card 'security code' is NOT your PIN.

Your security code is the last three digits of the little number on the back of your card, where you put your signature. It's not a difficult thing to find. You never type your PIN online. If you type in your PIN where you should have put your security code, all that happens is that your credit card gets flagged - security code not matched - and you may have to wait longer while we check to find out whether you're (a) incapable of reading simple instructions or (b) a fraudster trying to use a dodgy credit card, and let's be honest, neither of those are good really, are they?

Reasonable Requests

Most small businesses will do their best to meet any requests you make, it's part of what makes us different to Amazon and Tesco. Perhaps something is a gift and you want to be sure it's sent to the recipient without the price on it - no problem. Maybe you are on holiday and want to delay posting to make sure your package won't arrive while you're away - easy. Maybe you want your order shipped in as many lots as it takes to make sure that each parcel is no bigger than the pannier on your bike - we can do that. But please, please, let us know early on. Preferably before you place your order. If we know your requests before the order comes in, then we can do our best to meet them. We won't be able to get the package back off the Post Office if you only put in your request after the order is dispatched.

Still to come: Costs and charges, Royal Mail, and Other Issues.

And now, by request of a friend of mine, a short commercial break for a friendly online mail order business. Adults only, I cannot stress this strongly enough, adults only may wish to look at Temptations for all their adult toy needs. Temptations is run by a couple of entrepreneurs with a long-standing interest in adult toys, aiming to provide the sort of service levels they would prefer to recieve when shopping online for such items. Please don't click that link if you're under 16 or easily offended.

Under-16s, and those who are not in the market for the kind of wares Temptations stock, may prefer to visit the 100% family-friendly appropriate-for-everyone Web Of Wool to spend their money.

Edit 20:17 07/09/08 broken link fixed.

One Month On

...and working is still going well for me.

My cold is getting better - thanks mostly to Steve, who is being great about making sure that I get a chance to recover properly, get plenty of sleep, enough drinks and so on. If I was on my own and having to deal with cooking and grocery-shopping and laundry and washing-up as well as work, I wouldn't be managing and the cold would have been the final straw to see me land flat on my face.

If I had landed flat on my face... well, I'd have got up again soon enough. The people at work, up to and including The Boss, repeatedly reassured me from day one of my cold that if I had to take a day or two off, it would be fine, they know I work hard and that I'm not going to take the mickey. Apparently I really did look worryingly ill though.

I am managing to not get too anxious about the muppetry of the Incapacity Benefit bunch.

The taxi driver I have hired to get me to and from work is lovely. He's provided the paperwork I need without batting an eyelid, he's friendly, he turns up on time, and on the one or two occasions he personally hasn't been available to pick me up, he's arranged a different driver, he's sorted out payment with them directly (so I just stay on the simple fuss-free written invoice with him), and he's phoned me to let me know the type of car and name of driver. It's going incredibly smoothly.

I got my paycheque, early so it clears before Christmas. It's all sorted out now for PAYE tax and National Insurance contributions (so there's really no excuse for the Incap muppets). It feels good.

So now, there's just a week and a day of work left to do, and then I have a break for Christmas! Steve and I are going to see my family and friends, I'm really looking forward to it. I think my mum is looking forward to it as well - she's even added my favourite type of orange juice to her shopping list for the week, awbless!

Christmas Cards

One of the things I think is really important, and often overlooked, is Christmas cards.

No, I don't mean like when you're a kid and you carefully write out cards to all the kids in your class apart from that one smelly poo-head you don't like.
No, I don't mean like when you're a teenager and in competition with a sibling to prove who is more popular and ace based on how many cards you got.
Nor do I mean when your business sends cards to all your regular clients and vendors, or when you keep a couple of blank cards in your glovebox just in case, or those godawful "family newsletter" things where you try and advertise how wonderful your household is, and I definitely don't mean e-cards or worse still, the "happy xmas!" email sent automatically to *everyone* on your contacts list including the various customerorders@shop.com. Be honest now. How often have you ever re-opened a Christmas email or given a second thought about the person who sent it?

No, I mean an actual Christmas card chosen and given or sent to someone you actually give a monkeys about.

You see, it's not just a bit of cheap card (as in "£1 for a pack of ten cards?! That works out at TEN PENCE per card! That's ridiculous! It's only a bit of card! I bet it doesn't cost anything like that amount to make!" and so on).

It's a physical reminder, at this dark, cold time of year, that someone cares and appreciates you. Perhaps you're lucky enough to see and speak with other people every day. Perhaps you're constantly surrounded by people who care about you or at least talk to you. Not everyone has that though.

Let's do a thought experiment.

Your [friend or relative] is at home, wearing three jumpers because it's getting bloody cold lately but the cost of heating is getting silly. They're very much looking forward to Christmas Day, big family meal and so on, but right now, time is dragging by a bit and they're kind of alone and there's not much to do and not much cash with which to do it. The post arrives - a gas bill, some advertising, and a Christmas card from you with a little message to say you hope he/she's well, and maybe a bit of personal news. Not an essay, just four or five lines in the card.

Do they:
(a) read it, smile, put the card on the mantelpiece, and smile again every time they sees it over the next week or so, perhaps even occasionally taking it down to have another little look at it?
(b) read it, and then pop it into the recycling box along with the advertising? (admit it, this is what happens to those bulk Christmas emails)
(c) read it, and then phone you up to launch into a diatribe about how it's a terrible waste of money and playing into the hands of corporate fat-cats, and write you out of their will?

Extreme example, obviously, and if the answer is (c) then Do Not Do It. But I reckon the majority of people - even if they are incredibly busy and popular - would smile upon receiving a card from a loved one.

Sometimes the absence of a card can be as striking as its presence. If you're swamped by a hundred cards from work alone, you probably won't notice that a family member hasn't sent a card. If you're a little more isolated, then you will. If you have three grown-up children and only one of them sends you a card, you will wonder what has happened to your relationship with the other two to make them feel you are not even worth a 10p card and a postage stamp?

The last posting date for the UK (Royal Mail first class) is December 20th. UK people wanting to post to other places should check here.

Tis The Season

I love Christmas.

Some people get quite upset about that. There's the religious people, who think that as I don't believe the son of God was born on December 25th, two-thousand-odd years ago, I should just butt out of their meaningful celebration. Then there's the anti-religious people, who think that if I am rejecting Christianity then I should reject the entirety of Christmas because blah perpetuating false ideas wibble consumerism et cetera.

I respect both viewpoints (although I realise the tone of the preceding paragraph my put that into some doubt), and as such, I don't mind whether any of the people I know - or any of the people I don't know - spend their December in church praising their Lord and feeling marvellously spiritual, or in their determinedly undecorated houses ignoring the whole caboodle as best they can and burning any Christmas cards that darken their doormat.

But for me, Christmas is largely about the things in the coca-cola advert. Colour and light at the dark time of year. A little bit of magic, even if you know how it was done. Family and friends. Uplifting mood. And, dare I say it, a bit of excess - plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and giving and recieving (with thoughtfulness and good intentions and time and effort and consideration) gifts, including things that perhaps the recipient wouldn't have bought for themselves on their own (ok that's not in the advert, but Father Christmas is, and that's what he represents. To me).

Occasionally I wonder if that kind of thing - the Coca-Cola Christmas - isn't just the next natural progression of the mid-winter celebration/event/ceremony/whatever that humans do have a tendency to do for the last couple of thousand years. Personally, I'm not a Christian or a Muslim or a Druid or a Wiccan or a Pagan or anything else, I think the closest you'd get to classifying me is Apathetic Agnostic. I'm not even a huge consumerismist. But I love the Christmas celebrations.

Warning: There may be more Christmas-based posts to follow.