Yesterday, my Twitter feed was alight with people being gobsmacked by the content of Panorama's so-called "investigation" into benefit fraud. Interestingly, I understand that neither of the major culprits "investigated" and plastered across the BBC's prime viewing have actually been charged with benefit fraud. More worryingly, it appears that several of the activities the "investigator" took umbrage with weren't actually activities that would preclude a benefit claim...
I didn't watch the programme, in the end. Being, y'know, disabled and all, watching lengthy TV programmes late in the evening isn't something I'm very good at. I was going to catch it on iPlayer but have since decided that it will only upset me. So I want to make clear that this post is not a complaint about the Panorama programme because complaining about a programme I didn't watch and don't intend to watch seems rather ridiculous.
But I am qualified to comment on some of the urban myths surrounding disability, because they do impact me and my friends on a pretty regular basis. Facts and figures unless stated otherwise are drawn from HM Govt's Office for Disability Issues overview of official disability statistics, which can be found here.
Myth #1: Disabled people claiming benefits do not work.
In fact, about 48% of disabled people are employed (although this is compared to 78% of non-disabled people). Disability Living Allowance (DLA) is not means-tested and is awarded based on the impact a person's impairments have on certain aspects of their day to day life, such as washing, dressing, cooking, communicating and moving around. Disabled people often incur unavoidable expenses in trying to meet these essential needs, and DLA recognises that it is unfair to attempt to force working families and individuals to try and meet these non-negotiable and unasked-for additional costs out of their earned wages. Some disabled people work and claim Tax Credits, which is another legitimate form of benefit available to working people. And ESA has provision for Permitted Work for people who can only work very limited hours or in a very supported environment.*
Myth #2: Disabled people are obliged to be poor, and may not own assets.
While "a substantially higher proportion of individuals who live in families with disabled members live in poverty, compared to individuals who live in families where no one is disabled," wealth does not make a family immune to disabling illnesses or injuries. If you own your own home and live in it, then in the long run it's cheaper to let you carry on living there as long as possible than to attempt to rehouse you and have to pay Housing Benefit to you once the capital has evaporated.
Myth #3: Disabled people should not engage in physical activities.
Show me any person with an ongoing long-term physical or mental health condition, and I'll show you a person who has been advised by their medical professionals to take up swimming and/or gardening and/or going to a gym in the hope of staying active and healthy in so far as that's possible. It's always recommended, even if it doesn't get formally funded by the NHS under the guise of physiotherapy. Also: Paralympics, anybody?
Myth #4: Disabled people should not have a good time.
This is the most ridiculous of all - the idea that if a disabled person attends a party, or goes to the pub, or goes shopping, or is seen outdoors laughing with their friends, it's an affront to all right-thinking taxpayers and incontrovertible proof that "there's nothing wrong with him".
We live with our conditions. It's not like being sick and miserable for three days, but it's also not like being sick and miserable for three decades. It's more like being sick and miserable for three months, getting an idea of what's happening, spending three months in a horrible chaotic whirl as you realise your life is changing forever, taking anything from a few months to a few years to grieve and come to terms with what is happening to you, and then... you live. Which means you grab every opportunity you can to have a good time and laugh with your friends, just like any other person. You abandon the "miserable" by the side of the road.** We laugh. So sue us. We're not locked in a box out of sight. We're disabled, not dead.
* This is a gross over-simplification because to properly and fully explain would take another ten blogposts.
** At least until the next time you find yourself and your community under attack in the media.
Showing posts with label tax credits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tax credits. Show all posts
Friday, November 04, 2011
Sunday, July 19, 2009
This call is being charged at £2 per minute
Today I woke up and looked through my BBC News twitterfeed to see the headline:
"Patients should be charged £20 to see a GP in a bid to limit demands placed on the health service, a centre-rig.. http://tinyurl.com/nwwohp"
Twitter and the 140 character limit. A slightly panicked click-through to the actual story reassures us that there isn't (currently) an intended government policy to charge people £20 for a ten-minute GP's appointment, it's just an idea that a "think tank" called the Social Market Foundation has come up with.
It's pre-9am on a Sunday, I'm still on my first cup of tea, and even so I can think of several things that are wrong with their proposals. Lord knows what this think-tank think they've been doing, but I don't think it was thinking.
First problem: "The group said it would not breach the values of the NHS as charges already applied to dentistry and prescriptions."
Yes, and I can introduce you to people who don't go to the dentist, don't have the necessary dental work done, don't fill their prescriptions, or try things like taking "daily" medications every-other-day, in the name of economy. Generally they end up bouncing on the safety net of emergency care, at an even greater cost to the NHS, once the problem that should have been dealt with in its early stages has been allowed to progress to a much more extreme (and harder/more expensive to deal with) level.
To my mind, charging for essential medical care like this is a breach of the values of the NHS. And just because there's one breach, doesn't mean it's permissible to add a few more.
Second problem: "[David Furness, the author of the report] said "It would get people thinking twice about whether the visit was essential."
Isn't it rather rare to just have one GP's appointment? Most people I know seem to have at least two. There's the first one, where they get told "Have some paracetamol/a bit of a rest/drink more water/make sure you keep it clean/etc, and come back next week if it hasn't cleared up/if it gets worse/if you develop a rash/etc." This is the one where before calling, you say to yourself "is this really bad enough that I need to see a doctor?" and probably the one Mr Furness is thinking about.
But then there's the second one a week later which goes "ah, you're still oozing/wheezing/vomiting, looks like you might be ill after all, let's get you some tests/medications." In an ideal world you'll get prescribed a short course of treatment which resolves the issue and trundle off into the sunset, £40 lighter but perfectly healthy.
Nice idea. However, if you don't get better, there's the third, fourth and fifth appointments, which go "we've got the results of your tests back, and now we need to give you medication/refer you for hospital treatment/send you for more tests/monitor you for a fortnight." Before making these appointments, Mr Furness wants you to think twice about whether it's really essential to carry on trying to establish what's wrong and how to treat it. See previous point about bouncing on the safety net of emergency care and allowing simple, treatable conditions to progress into complex ones.
Third problem: The 250-odd page report crashes my browser after ten minutes, but I did get a chance to double-check on exemptions. Mr Furness feels that instead of "arbitrary" exemptions such as pregnancy or retirement, exemptions from the fees should be based purely on "wealth". He defines "wealthy people" as everyone apart from "children and those receiving tax credits". I could not find any mention of provision for people on other forms of welfare or those on low incomes who are not entitled to or do not claim tax credits. I'm not sure how "children" is any less arbitrary than "pensioners" as a wealth-based category.
The time of my life when I had the most GP's appointments was at the beginning of my illness, when we were trying to figure out what was wrong with me. This makes sense and is not unusual.
This was also, obviously, the time when:
I was therefore not exempt, but also not in a position to hand over £20 per GP's appointment, at the time when I needed it most. My situation was not unusual at all. Also, I was ill. It's not the time to be dumping additional financial hardship onto people. This scheme may be designed to discourage the "worried well" from using up resources, but the people it will impact most are the people who are actually sick and in need of healthcare.
But Mr Furness's final, beautiful demonstration of idiocy had to be: "[he] said the think-tank was opposed to fees being levied on any form of emergency care."
The emergency care service has been creaking at the seams for years for various reasons, including the decreased "Out Of Hours" GP cover. Presented with a choice between phoning a free ambulance to come and visit you at home, or going out to attend a £20 GP appointment, what are most people going to do? I suspect that any savings Mr Furness's ideas might make GP-side would be dwarfed by the increased costs of emergency care.
Mind you, then he could get paid to write a report about how it would be a good idea to charge for that, as well.
"Patients should be charged £20 to see a GP in a bid to limit demands placed on the health service, a centre-rig.. http://tinyurl.com/nwwohp"
Twitter and the 140 character limit. A slightly panicked click-through to the actual story reassures us that there isn't (currently) an intended government policy to charge people £20 for a ten-minute GP's appointment, it's just an idea that a "think tank" called the Social Market Foundation has come up with.
It's pre-9am on a Sunday, I'm still on my first cup of tea, and even so I can think of several things that are wrong with their proposals. Lord knows what this think-tank think they've been doing, but I don't think it was thinking.
First problem: "The group said it would not breach the values of the NHS as charges already applied to dentistry and prescriptions."
Yes, and I can introduce you to people who don't go to the dentist, don't have the necessary dental work done, don't fill their prescriptions, or try things like taking "daily" medications every-other-day, in the name of economy. Generally they end up bouncing on the safety net of emergency care, at an even greater cost to the NHS, once the problem that should have been dealt with in its early stages has been allowed to progress to a much more extreme (and harder/more expensive to deal with) level.
To my mind, charging for essential medical care like this is a breach of the values of the NHS. And just because there's one breach, doesn't mean it's permissible to add a few more.
Second problem: "[David Furness, the author of the report] said "It would get people thinking twice about whether the visit was essential."
Isn't it rather rare to just have one GP's appointment? Most people I know seem to have at least two. There's the first one, where they get told "Have some paracetamol/a bit of a rest/drink more water/make sure you keep it clean/etc, and come back next week if it hasn't cleared up/if it gets worse/if you develop a rash/etc." This is the one where before calling, you say to yourself "is this really bad enough that I need to see a doctor?" and probably the one Mr Furness is thinking about.
But then there's the second one a week later which goes "ah, you're still oozing/wheezing/vomiting, looks like you might be ill after all, let's get you some tests/medications." In an ideal world you'll get prescribed a short course of treatment which resolves the issue and trundle off into the sunset, £40 lighter but perfectly healthy.
Nice idea. However, if you don't get better, there's the third, fourth and fifth appointments, which go "we've got the results of your tests back, and now we need to give you medication/refer you for hospital treatment/send you for more tests/monitor you for a fortnight." Before making these appointments, Mr Furness wants you to think twice about whether it's really essential to carry on trying to establish what's wrong and how to treat it. See previous point about bouncing on the safety net of emergency care and allowing simple, treatable conditions to progress into complex ones.
Third problem: The 250-odd page report crashes my browser after ten minutes, but I did get a chance to double-check on exemptions. Mr Furness feels that instead of "arbitrary" exemptions such as pregnancy or retirement, exemptions from the fees should be based purely on "wealth". He defines "wealthy people" as everyone apart from "children and those receiving tax credits". I could not find any mention of provision for people on other forms of welfare or those on low incomes who are not entitled to or do not claim tax credits. I'm not sure how "children" is any less arbitrary than "pensioners" as a wealth-based category.
The time of my life when I had the most GP's appointments was at the beginning of my illness, when we were trying to figure out what was wrong with me. This makes sense and is not unusual.
This was also, obviously, the time when:
- My job contract had ended and as I was signed off sick, I was not eligible for an extension or able to apply for other jobs. I therefore had no earned income. This makes sense and is not unusual.
- As I was not working, I could not claim or receive tax credits. This makes sense and is not unusual.
- I had not yet been approved to receive any benefits or practical assistance. I therefore had no income at all. This is also not unusual.
I was therefore not exempt, but also not in a position to hand over £20 per GP's appointment, at the time when I needed it most. My situation was not unusual at all. Also, I was ill. It's not the time to be dumping additional financial hardship onto people. This scheme may be designed to discourage the "worried well" from using up resources, but the people it will impact most are the people who are actually sick and in need of healthcare.
But Mr Furness's final, beautiful demonstration of idiocy had to be: "[he] said the think-tank was opposed to fees being levied on any form of emergency care."
The emergency care service has been creaking at the seams for years for various reasons, including the decreased "Out Of Hours" GP cover. Presented with a choice between phoning a free ambulance to come and visit you at home, or going out to attend a £20 GP appointment, what are most people going to do? I suspect that any savings Mr Furness's ideas might make GP-side would be dwarfed by the increased costs of emergency care.
Mind you, then he could get paid to write a report about how it would be a good idea to charge for that, as well.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Wahoo!
Remember the ongoing saga of the Tax Credits problems?
Today I checked my bank statement, as you do, and saw that on 9th June, a payment of just under £20 was made straight into my account with the reference "Working Tax Credit".
PANIC! I don't want Tax Credits! I don't want to be entangled with them at all! I have an ongoing dispute with them! Why are they putting money into my account with no explanation?!?
Straight on the phone to a chap called Bob, who had a dig through my file and found a letter, dated 3rd June, which has been sent to me, but hasn't arrived here yet. So he read out the relevant bits to me.
An overpayment was made to me in the tax year April 2004 to April 2005.
This Inland Revenue intended to recover this overpayment by reducing my Tax Credits payments during the tax year April 2005 to April 2006.
I spoilt this plan by getting sick and eventually losing my job in June 2005. So that is why, in July 2005, I got a bill for over £500, consisting of the original overpayment, minus the £20 they had already recovered by reducing the payments I'd received between April 2005 and June 2005.
Communications since then have been variations on a rather repetitive theme of:
"Give us money!"
"I don't have that much money. And even if I did, I'm not convinced I owe it to you."
"Oh. Okay. (pause) Give us money!"
However, the letter I haven't received yet apparently says that the Appeals and Complaints bunch have reviewed my case and decided that the overpayment was due to "official error" and as such has been written off. This means that the money they "recovered" between April and June 2005 was in fact my money, so I can have it back. That's what the mystery payment into my bank account was about.
I'm so relieved. I was going to blog about something very very naughty which Remploy have done, but this is so much better. I hated the idea of being in debt, I hated the idea that I had somehow incurred debt without knowing I was doing it, and the letters demanding repayment and threatening legal action were really, really upsetting. But it's all over now, and I don't have to deal with them again.
I would say I'll try not to spend all of my almost-£20 at once, but thinking about it, I've probably spent more than that in phone calls and postage and photocopying and so on during the three-year course of this dispute. Definitely worth it to not have a £500 debt over my head, though.
Today I checked my bank statement, as you do, and saw that on 9th June, a payment of just under £20 was made straight into my account with the reference "Working Tax Credit".
PANIC! I don't want Tax Credits! I don't want to be entangled with them at all! I have an ongoing dispute with them! Why are they putting money into my account with no explanation?!?
Straight on the phone to a chap called Bob, who had a dig through my file and found a letter, dated 3rd June, which has been sent to me, but hasn't arrived here yet. So he read out the relevant bits to me.
An overpayment was made to me in the tax year April 2004 to April 2005.
This Inland Revenue intended to recover this overpayment by reducing my Tax Credits payments during the tax year April 2005 to April 2006.
I spoilt this plan by getting sick and eventually losing my job in June 2005. So that is why, in July 2005, I got a bill for over £500, consisting of the original overpayment, minus the £20 they had already recovered by reducing the payments I'd received between April 2005 and June 2005.
Communications since then have been variations on a rather repetitive theme of:
"Give us money!"
"I don't have that much money. And even if I did, I'm not convinced I owe it to you."
"Oh. Okay. (pause) Give us money!"
However, the letter I haven't received yet apparently says that the Appeals and Complaints bunch have reviewed my case and decided that the overpayment was due to "official error" and as such has been written off. This means that the money they "recovered" between April and June 2005 was in fact my money, so I can have it back. That's what the mystery payment into my bank account was about.
I'm so relieved. I was going to blog about something very very naughty which Remploy have done, but this is so much better. I hated the idea of being in debt, I hated the idea that I had somehow incurred debt without knowing I was doing it, and the letters demanding repayment and threatening legal action were really, really upsetting. But it's all over now, and I don't have to deal with them again.
I would say I'll try not to spend all of my almost-£20 at once, but thinking about it, I've probably spent more than that in phone calls and postage and photocopying and so on during the three-year course of this dispute. Definitely worth it to not have a £500 debt over my head, though.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Careers Advice
My teachers at school had high hopes for me ten years ago, when I finished my compulsory schooling and looked down the barrel of sixth-form. I wasn't a genius or anything, but I was a good all-rounder who was generally in the top five of the class in any given subject, with the exceptions of PE and Design Tech. It was even in the reference my form tutor wrote me - "Mary will be spoilt for choice of which A-levels to take."
If you'd told those teachers that in ten years time I would be scraping almost-minimum wage doing a trained-chimp job where I wear trainers to work, they probably would have looked very confused and checked that you were talking about the same Mary.
But, none of them would have been able to give you much of an idea what I would be doing. I was and am reasonably good at all sorts of things, but nothing has ever stood out enough to indicate a specific career of any kind.
At the moment, I am happy as a CD dispatcher. Some of the most important factors for me working are: that I have a flexible and open-minded employer; that my colleagues are sensible and understanding about my particular needs; and that it will not cause death and destruction if I am suddenly crumple up with a migraine (for instance, I should never be an air traffic controller).
In my current job, I have all of that and more. My boss and co-workers are supportive without being patronising, and if for whatever reason I can't work, then the worst that happens is a customer has to wait an extra day for a CD, which to my knowledge, is not the sort of thing that the fate of the free world depends on. We even have a good selection of drinks and biscuits provided in the office kitchen cupboard. That's the sort of perk that isn't to be taken lightly. Some of the most highly-paid career-people I know are jealous of me, as they feed their 20ps into the vending machines in the corridors of their corporate workplaces to obtain a styrofoam cup of alleged tea.
That said, no one should be surprised that I have no desire to be a CD dispatcher for the next ten years. No matter how lovely the people or the workplace might be, the job itself is tiring*, boring, low-paid, unchallenging, and probably not the best use of those all-rounder skills. Furthermore, since I have no interest in classical music, I have no promotion prospects within my current firm.
But, like my teachers ten years ago, I have absolutely no idea what I should be doing. My tragic realisation that, once I got past the age of 18, no one would give a monkey's about the school qualifications I worked so hard for, has not helped.
Some things I won't be doing no matter what. I'm not going to be an astronaut or a doctor or a lawyer or a rally driver or CEO at Microsoft. It's just not on the cards.
There's the stuff I used to do, "helping disabled and disadvantaged people into training and employment"... I was reasonably good at it and I did enjoy it, but these days I think it would be a little bit too close to the bone. I would flinch at having to deal with the Department of Work and Pensions in my work life and my personal life. In fact, this acquired mindset where I regard the DWP as "to be avoided at all costs", probably prevents me from doing most of the sort of social-care kind of work that would, how can I put this, make my Mother proud.
I can think of a hundred new things I could try (given support as appropriate) but most of them, such as being a teacher or a hairdresser or an accountant, would require me to spend a year or more getting qualified first. That isn't a problem. I'd be quite happy to spend a year or so at college, if I had a goal in sight. But I have no idea what I'd want to study and it seems pointless to study just for the sake of it, to put time an effort into doing a course on no real basis other that it happens to be running at the nearest college.
So for now at least, and until any better plans present themselves, I trundle along with the picking and packing CDs.
* The 'tiring' thing is the big problem at the moment. The 'Christmas rush' hasn't subsided, which is great for the company, but not great for me, as I really cannot maintain this level of daily physical effort. My boss would be happy to consider reduced hours, flexitime and so on, the trouble is that if I dip below 16 hours per week then my wages dip to 'better off on benefit' level. If I was a client of the company I used to work for, then I would be put on Supported Permitted Work which allows people who can only work part-time for disability reasons to keep a certain amount of earnings on top of Incapacity Benefit. But the local DEA (as featured previously) won't help, she just tells me I can work 16+ hours or not at all. I have an appointment with my GP next week, maybe she'll have some ideas.
I am also, god help me, considering Tax Credits, on the basis that if I have to wrangle with them ad infinitum anyway, I might as well do a smidge more wrangling and actually get something for it.
If you'd told those teachers that in ten years time I would be scraping almost-minimum wage doing a trained-chimp job where I wear trainers to work, they probably would have looked very confused and checked that you were talking about the same Mary.
But, none of them would have been able to give you much of an idea what I would be doing. I was and am reasonably good at all sorts of things, but nothing has ever stood out enough to indicate a specific career of any kind.
At the moment, I am happy as a CD dispatcher. Some of the most important factors for me working are: that I have a flexible and open-minded employer; that my colleagues are sensible and understanding about my particular needs; and that it will not cause death and destruction if I am suddenly crumple up with a migraine (for instance, I should never be an air traffic controller).
In my current job, I have all of that and more. My boss and co-workers are supportive without being patronising, and if for whatever reason I can't work, then the worst that happens is a customer has to wait an extra day for a CD, which to my knowledge, is not the sort of thing that the fate of the free world depends on. We even have a good selection of drinks and biscuits provided in the office kitchen cupboard. That's the sort of perk that isn't to be taken lightly. Some of the most highly-paid career-people I know are jealous of me, as they feed their 20ps into the vending machines in the corridors of their corporate workplaces to obtain a styrofoam cup of alleged tea.
That said, no one should be surprised that I have no desire to be a CD dispatcher for the next ten years. No matter how lovely the people or the workplace might be, the job itself is tiring*, boring, low-paid, unchallenging, and probably not the best use of those all-rounder skills. Furthermore, since I have no interest in classical music, I have no promotion prospects within my current firm.
But, like my teachers ten years ago, I have absolutely no idea what I should be doing. My tragic realisation that, once I got past the age of 18, no one would give a monkey's about the school qualifications I worked so hard for, has not helped.
Some things I won't be doing no matter what. I'm not going to be an astronaut or a doctor or a lawyer or a rally driver or CEO at Microsoft. It's just not on the cards.
There's the stuff I used to do, "helping disabled and disadvantaged people into training and employment"... I was reasonably good at it and I did enjoy it, but these days I think it would be a little bit too close to the bone. I would flinch at having to deal with the Department of Work and Pensions in my work life and my personal life. In fact, this acquired mindset where I regard the DWP as "to be avoided at all costs", probably prevents me from doing most of the sort of social-care kind of work that would, how can I put this, make my Mother proud.
I can think of a hundred new things I could try (given support as appropriate) but most of them, such as being a teacher or a hairdresser or an accountant, would require me to spend a year or more getting qualified first. That isn't a problem. I'd be quite happy to spend a year or so at college, if I had a goal in sight. But I have no idea what I'd want to study and it seems pointless to study just for the sake of it, to put time an effort into doing a course on no real basis other that it happens to be running at the nearest college.
So for now at least, and until any better plans present themselves, I trundle along with the picking and packing CDs.
* The 'tiring' thing is the big problem at the moment. The 'Christmas rush' hasn't subsided, which is great for the company, but not great for me, as I really cannot maintain this level of daily physical effort. My boss would be happy to consider reduced hours, flexitime and so on, the trouble is that if I dip below 16 hours per week then my wages dip to 'better off on benefit' level. If I was a client of the company I used to work for, then I would be put on Supported Permitted Work which allows people who can only work part-time for disability reasons to keep a certain amount of earnings on top of Incapacity Benefit. But the local DEA (as featured previously) won't help, she just tells me I can work 16+ hours or not at all. I have an appointment with my GP next week, maybe she'll have some ideas.
I am also, god help me, considering Tax Credits, on the basis that if I have to wrangle with them ad infinitum anyway, I might as well do a smidge more wrangling and actually get something for it.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Misc
Lots of little things going on, but nothing I can make into a full-on blogpost.
The Tax Credits letter has been sent. So that doesn't need worrying about for a while again.
Steve passed his second exam with flying colours. There's two more to go.
Littlun is due to start at the kindergarten/reception type class at the school on Tuesday, doing half days, five days a week. However due to an administrative snarl-up, Pip won't know if he's doing mornings or afternoons until Monday.
Recycling has been properly introduced in this area. I am incredibly relieved - it was horrible not being able to do it any more after having really got into the habit back in Lowestoft. It's not exactly the same system as I was used to, but they've been really good about sending out the leaflets and whatnot.
What they're not so good at is dealing with queries. The helpline has been utterly swamped. According to the local paper, this is mostly by people who haven't read the leaflet with the list of collection dates, people who are complaining that the system is too complicated (let's put it this way: even I can understand it, so it can't be that hard), and people complaining that the bins are 'unsightly' so they don't want them at the front of their properties and won't give the bin-men access to the back. So, we took the path of least resistance and shelled out a whole £2.99 for a food-caddy from the supermarket rather than messing about to claim our free one.
I've totally slowed down on knitting the jumper because I have to write out longhand the row-by-row instructions for the shoulder shaping to make sure I've really understood it. The instructions in the pattern book are written to incorporate several sizes of one pattern. So for example an instruction might be written as "Cast off 2 (4, 6, 8, 10, 12) sts". If you are knitting the very small size, you cast off 2 sts. If you are knitting the biggest size, you cast off 12 sts. You see? But me, I'm medium-sized, and I keep forgetting which set of numbers I'm meant to be paying attention to and it drives me mad, so I write out the pattern instead.
The sock is coming along nicely. It is the second sock of the birthday pair, made of the stripy Regia Silk yarn I bought with my birthday money back in January. I've turned the heel and have about 10 more rows for the instep and then it's just round and round and round until I get to the toe decreases. Steve 'helpfully' offered that if I was stuck for what to knit next, he could always frog them for me so that I could do them all over again. I am pleased to report that I did NOT skewer him with a 2.5mm double pointed needle, but it was a close call.
And to round off, a Roomba Report. I still love it, I still think it's some of the best money I've ever spent, although I do regret spending the money and wouldn't have done if I'd known how things were going to pan out. But then I suppose that's the same for everyone. Anyway, yes, the Roomba, or "Bloop" as he is now affectionately known, is doing sterling work of keeping the carpets clean for me, but we did have a little incident the other day.
It involved a reel of black cotton that we are both quite sure was safely on a shelf before we pressed the button and closed the door. Perhaps the breeze from the door closing was what caused the reel to fall to the floor. Or perhaps Bloop bumped into the shelf a little bit hard. We don't know - after all, the point is, you don't have to be in the room while it's cleaning.
Thing is, if you're using a conventional vaccuum cleaner, then when you spot a cotton reel on the floor, you stop. You pick up the cotton reel and you place it somewhere safe. If the vaccuum cleaner has already sucked up the end, then you turn it off, untangle it, and only then do you attempt to continue cleaning. Not so for Bloop. He keeps going, and going, and going, and because of how he works, twisting and turning and moving all the time... eventually he had got the entire length of thread wound around his brushes, upon which, he sucked up the plastic reel as well, which finally jammed the brushes and caused him to make his "uh-oh" noise.
Black cotton thread wound tightly in a non-linear fashion onto black brushes. Oh boy. It wouldn't unwind at all. We had to try three different pairs of scissors to cut it all off without cutting the brushes themselves. It was a tricky job. But, even so, after maybe an hour of surgery, it was all sorted out and Bloop was able to do the whole room again, properly.
Steve has presented the incident as being further proof of Bloop's malevolent sentience. Not only does my robot want to join in the knitting, but he even knows better than to have a first try with any of my decent yarn.
The Tax Credits letter has been sent. So that doesn't need worrying about for a while again.
Steve passed his second exam with flying colours. There's two more to go.
Littlun is due to start at the kindergarten/reception type class at the school on Tuesday, doing half days, five days a week. However due to an administrative snarl-up, Pip won't know if he's doing mornings or afternoons until Monday.
Recycling has been properly introduced in this area. I am incredibly relieved - it was horrible not being able to do it any more after having really got into the habit back in Lowestoft. It's not exactly the same system as I was used to, but they've been really good about sending out the leaflets and whatnot.
What they're not so good at is dealing with queries. The helpline has been utterly swamped. According to the local paper, this is mostly by people who haven't read the leaflet with the list of collection dates, people who are complaining that the system is too complicated (let's put it this way: even I can understand it, so it can't be that hard), and people complaining that the bins are 'unsightly' so they don't want them at the front of their properties and won't give the bin-men access to the back. So, we took the path of least resistance and shelled out a whole £2.99 for a food-caddy from the supermarket rather than messing about to claim our free one.
I've totally slowed down on knitting the jumper because I have to write out longhand the row-by-row instructions for the shoulder shaping to make sure I've really understood it. The instructions in the pattern book are written to incorporate several sizes of one pattern. So for example an instruction might be written as "Cast off 2 (4, 6, 8, 10, 12) sts". If you are knitting the very small size, you cast off 2 sts. If you are knitting the biggest size, you cast off 12 sts. You see? But me, I'm medium-sized, and I keep forgetting which set of numbers I'm meant to be paying attention to and it drives me mad, so I write out the pattern instead.
The sock is coming along nicely. It is the second sock of the birthday pair, made of the stripy Regia Silk yarn I bought with my birthday money back in January. I've turned the heel and have about 10 more rows for the instep and then it's just round and round and round until I get to the toe decreases. Steve 'helpfully' offered that if I was stuck for what to knit next, he could always frog them for me so that I could do them all over again. I am pleased to report that I did NOT skewer him with a 2.5mm double pointed needle, but it was a close call.
And to round off, a Roomba Report. I still love it, I still think it's some of the best money I've ever spent, although I do regret spending the money and wouldn't have done if I'd known how things were going to pan out. But then I suppose that's the same for everyone. Anyway, yes, the Roomba, or "Bloop" as he is now affectionately known, is doing sterling work of keeping the carpets clean for me, but we did have a little incident the other day.
It involved a reel of black cotton that we are both quite sure was safely on a shelf before we pressed the button and closed the door. Perhaps the breeze from the door closing was what caused the reel to fall to the floor. Or perhaps Bloop bumped into the shelf a little bit hard. We don't know - after all, the point is, you don't have to be in the room while it's cleaning.
Thing is, if you're using a conventional vaccuum cleaner, then when you spot a cotton reel on the floor, you stop. You pick up the cotton reel and you place it somewhere safe. If the vaccuum cleaner has already sucked up the end, then you turn it off, untangle it, and only then do you attempt to continue cleaning. Not so for Bloop. He keeps going, and going, and going, and because of how he works, twisting and turning and moving all the time... eventually he had got the entire length of thread wound around his brushes, upon which, he sucked up the plastic reel as well, which finally jammed the brushes and caused him to make his "uh-oh" noise.
Black cotton thread wound tightly in a non-linear fashion onto black brushes. Oh boy. It wouldn't unwind at all. We had to try three different pairs of scissors to cut it all off without cutting the brushes themselves. It was a tricky job. But, even so, after maybe an hour of surgery, it was all sorted out and Bloop was able to do the whole room again, properly.
Steve has presented the incident as being further proof of Bloop's malevolent sentience. Not only does my robot want to join in the knitting, but he even knows better than to have a first try with any of my decent yarn.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Well, that answers that question.
So much for wondering how I'm going to fill the hour or so per day that I've spent doing my DLA forms for the last few weeks.
This morning, as I was sat on the staircase putting my coat on in order to go to the Post Office and send my Enormous Wodge Of Paperwork, the postie arrived and shoved a brown envelope through my letterbox.
It's from HM Revenue and Customs, Tax Credit Office.
Click here for the previous episode.
The short version is:
2005 - 2006: I owe them £500, which I would happily pay, except I do not have it due to becoming ill, loss of job, going onto benefit, etc. They defer payment. They ask for this £500 every three months or so. I still do not have it. They defer payment. And again. And again.
At the end of 2006, they send me letters saying I don't owe them anything, £0.00, zero balance. Woohoo! I don't hear from them for the entirety of 2007. Huzzah! I figure my debt must have expired.
2008: they demand payment of £500, immediately, or else legal action. WTF? I ring them up. They send me a form for disputing overpayments. I write to them explaining that I don't deny that I did owe them £500, once, but that in 2006 they wrote to me telling me I don't owe it any more, and I think it's a bit nasty of them to suddenly change their minds and threaten me with legal action.
Today's letter was basically an explanation of how I came to owe them £500 in the first place.
I already knew that bit. I'm not disputing that bit. I'm disputing whether it's okay for them to go "You don't owe us any money any more. *pause* Whoops! actually, you DO owe us money, after all."
No mention is made of the letters (which I sent them copies of) that told me I owe nothing.
It just says that I owe them the money, and, direct quote here, "You cannot appeal against the decision to recover your overpayment."
So tomorrow, I must phone them and explain in great detail about how my income does not cover my essential living expenses (rent, electricity, water). I suspect that we will then enter the deferral cycle again.
Meanwhile, I enter into a written-correspondence argument with the "Customer Service and Support Group Officer" who was unlucky enough to sign this latest letter to me. Who thinks I should finish my letter with a demand for a copy of their complaints procedure?
This morning, as I was sat on the staircase putting my coat on in order to go to the Post Office and send my Enormous Wodge Of Paperwork, the postie arrived and shoved a brown envelope through my letterbox.
It's from HM Revenue and Customs, Tax Credit Office.
Click here for the previous episode.
The short version is:
2005 - 2006: I owe them £500, which I would happily pay, except I do not have it due to becoming ill, loss of job, going onto benefit, etc. They defer payment. They ask for this £500 every three months or so. I still do not have it. They defer payment. And again. And again.
At the end of 2006, they send me letters saying I don't owe them anything, £0.00, zero balance. Woohoo! I don't hear from them for the entirety of 2007. Huzzah! I figure my debt must have expired.
2008: they demand payment of £500, immediately, or else legal action. WTF? I ring them up. They send me a form for disputing overpayments. I write to them explaining that I don't deny that I did owe them £500, once, but that in 2006 they wrote to me telling me I don't owe it any more, and I think it's a bit nasty of them to suddenly change their minds and threaten me with legal action.
Today's letter was basically an explanation of how I came to owe them £500 in the first place.
I already knew that bit. I'm not disputing that bit. I'm disputing whether it's okay for them to go "You don't owe us any money any more. *pause* Whoops! actually, you DO owe us money, after all."
No mention is made of the letters (which I sent them copies of) that told me I owe nothing.
It just says that I owe them the money, and, direct quote here, "You cannot appeal against the decision to recover your overpayment."
So tomorrow, I must phone them and explain in great detail about how my income does not cover my essential living expenses (rent, electricity, water). I suspect that we will then enter the deferral cycle again.
Meanwhile, I enter into a written-correspondence argument with the "Customer Service and Support Group Officer" who was unlucky enough to sign this latest letter to me. Who thinks I should finish my letter with a demand for a copy of their complaints procedure?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Finished Item: Birthday Sock
Of course, socks traditionally come in pairs, and I have cast on Birthday Sock 2, but the way things are at the moment, even the completion of One Sock is enough to warrant celebratory feelings.
It's... not a good time. Several things, some bloggable, some not, are causing a certain amount of stress right now. A small taster...
I suspect that tomorrow I have to call the Tax Credits people and/or Royal Mail because of a problem with the paperwork I sent by Recorded Signed For post last week not being flagged as 'delivered' yet. This is going to be made more difficult by me being rather iller than usual at the moment. I suspect I have to make a doctor's appointment as it's getting to the "beyond a joke" point - without Steve, I would be well and truly stuffed by now. I'm worried that even with Steve's help I might end up having to take time off work if my health doesn't pick up again sharpish. I have to sort out some more stuff with the DWP as well.
You get the picture.
I also have to write up a feedback report for Access to Work. Well, I don't have to, which is why I haven't done it yet. But I've been asked to, and I feel like I should.
I need to get some serious praise in for my current adviser, who has been fabulous and got all sorts of things (the taxis, the squishing machine) sorted out pretty much next-day, and I want to say nice things about the scheme in general.
But I also really need to let them know about the problems I have encountered with the system, like the trouble I had getting onto the scheme, the attempts to make One Size Fit All, the catch-22 of not being able to apply for the scheme until you have a definite job offer, but the difficulty of negotiating for a job offer without knowing whether you're likely to get help from the scheme or not.
Actually, if anyone can think of some good phrases I could use, please do put them in the comments, because at the moment I'm having trouble properly saying things I want to say without (a) it coming out wrong and everyone looking confused, (b) half of it coming out before my brain goes off at a tangent and I fail to communicate my original point leaving everyone looking confused, or (c) it coming out right, but far too abrupt/rude/blunt and leaving everyone looking distinctly pissed off. I need all the help I can get.
The sock came out well though.
It's... not a good time. Several things, some bloggable, some not, are causing a certain amount of stress right now. A small taster...
I suspect that tomorrow I have to call the Tax Credits people and/or Royal Mail because of a problem with the paperwork I sent by Recorded Signed For post last week not being flagged as 'delivered' yet. This is going to be made more difficult by me being rather iller than usual at the moment. I suspect I have to make a doctor's appointment as it's getting to the "beyond a joke" point - without Steve, I would be well and truly stuffed by now. I'm worried that even with Steve's help I might end up having to take time off work if my health doesn't pick up again sharpish. I have to sort out some more stuff with the DWP as well.
You get the picture.
I also have to write up a feedback report for Access to Work. Well, I don't have to, which is why I haven't done it yet. But I've been asked to, and I feel like I should.
I need to get some serious praise in for my current adviser, who has been fabulous and got all sorts of things (the taxis, the squishing machine) sorted out pretty much next-day, and I want to say nice things about the scheme in general.
But I also really need to let them know about the problems I have encountered with the system, like the trouble I had getting onto the scheme, the attempts to make One Size Fit All, the catch-22 of not being able to apply for the scheme until you have a definite job offer, but the difficulty of negotiating for a job offer without knowing whether you're likely to get help from the scheme or not.
Actually, if anyone can think of some good phrases I could use, please do put them in the comments, because at the moment I'm having trouble properly saying things I want to say without (a) it coming out wrong and everyone looking confused, (b) half of it coming out before my brain goes off at a tangent and I fail to communicate my original point leaving everyone looking confused, or (c) it coming out right, but far too abrupt/rude/blunt and leaving everyone looking distinctly pissed off. I need all the help I can get.
The sock came out well though.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Balancing
Phone call from Mum today, who read my last blog entry and got all concerned about me. Aww. Mum, you are ace. But now I have the guilts for not phoning/emailing you at least once a week like I meant to.
I also have guilt about not having updated my blog in over a week. I'm not sure how many people read it, but more people than I ever expected spare the time to leave comments, and not just people I know offline either, and I do appreciate it. So sorry if I worried anyone.
The thing is, on the one hand, I Am Okay. There have been no fires or explosions, no trips to hospital, no baliffs at the door or any other Nasty Things happening.
But on the other hand, there's been no finished knitted items, no lovely jaunts out and about, no wonderful bits of news or other Nice Things happening, either.
I'm just balancing, one day at a time, with circumstances that are still slightly stressful and less-than-fantastic.
For example, I still haven't had my appeal form from the Tax Credits bunch (I phoned: apparently it was sent second class and I should call again if it hasn't arrived at the weekend). I'm still having a rough ride physically, with more fainting, more headaches, more muscle pain, and more problems with things like memory and speech when compared to December. The GET is postponed for at least a month or so, I reckon. Everything is just null.
That's depressing. There must be something.
Aha! Yes! Of course! On Sunday Steve went to support his cousin Simon who was taking part in the 2008 Toughguy event. I didn't go - getting up early to go and spend most of my Sunday standing around in a muddy field in January isn't my idea of fun even when I'm feeling good - but it was fun hearing about it when Steve got home.
Simon, being a nutter, decided that doing what amounts to a cross-country run combined with an army assault course simply wasn't interesting enough any more.
He therefore opted to do the course wearing a pair of trainers, a pair of gloves, a pair of speedos, and a pink inflatable rubber ring.
Go on then, have some pictures.
I also have guilt about not having updated my blog in over a week. I'm not sure how many people read it, but more people than I ever expected spare the time to leave comments, and not just people I know offline either, and I do appreciate it. So sorry if I worried anyone.
The thing is, on the one hand, I Am Okay. There have been no fires or explosions, no trips to hospital, no baliffs at the door or any other Nasty Things happening.
But on the other hand, there's been no finished knitted items, no lovely jaunts out and about, no wonderful bits of news or other Nice Things happening, either.
I'm just balancing, one day at a time, with circumstances that are still slightly stressful and less-than-fantastic.
For example, I still haven't had my appeal form from the Tax Credits bunch (I phoned: apparently it was sent second class and I should call again if it hasn't arrived at the weekend). I'm still having a rough ride physically, with more fainting, more headaches, more muscle pain, and more problems with things like memory and speech when compared to December. The GET is postponed for at least a month or so, I reckon. Everything is just null.
That's depressing. There must be something.
Aha! Yes! Of course! On Sunday Steve went to support his cousin Simon who was taking part in the 2008 Toughguy event. I didn't go - getting up early to go and spend most of my Sunday standing around in a muddy field in January isn't my idea of fun even when I'm feeling good - but it was fun hearing about it when Steve got home.
Simon, being a nutter, decided that doing what amounts to a cross-country run combined with an army assault course simply wasn't interesting enough any more.
He therefore opted to do the course wearing a pair of trainers, a pair of gloves, a pair of speedos, and a pink inflatable rubber ring.
Go on then, have some pictures.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Crash
Oh, it's all gone horribly wrong.
The attempt at GET has been called off on account of (1) me not having a bloody clue what I'm doing (see comments, previous post), and (2) me ending up feeling like I'd been scraped off the sole of my own shoe (probably because, see 1 above). I think I'll settle for: as long as I get up every day and go to work when I'm supposed to, then I'm doing quite enough.
The Inland Revenue have been sent me a nasty letter. It's to do with my Working Tax Credits claim from 2003. You don't want to be bored to death by the details - suffice to say, I haven't claimed or received any money from them since I stopped work in 2005 (because, Working Tax Credits, duh), I hadn't heard from them since 2006, I thought everything was fine, I even have a letter from them saying that I owe them nothing and they owe me nothing... but now I have a bill for over £500, which, frankly, is more than a month's wages, and an accompanying letter threatening legal action and 'interest accruing daily until the balance is zero'. I fear this may take a lot of untangling.
Steve keeps injuring himself (mostly hurting his back or his leg) and I can't do anything to help. He's also studying really intensively, so by the time I crawl in from work, we're both shuffling about like the living dead - in body and in brain - to try and prepare a semi-nutritious evening meal between the two of us. It would be comical if either of us were brain-awake enough to appreciate it.
It's the end of January. 'Nuff said.
Even my yarny is causing problems - I started turning the heel on my sock and lo, halfway through the ball, a KNOT. And not just a tangle which with care and attention might be unpicked. No, this was a proper, two definite ends of yarn, tied together in a big ugly knot. Okay, so not the end of the world, I cut it off and then started knitting again as if with a second ball... but for pity's sake, this was supposed to be my birthday-treat, make-me-happy, pleasure-to-knit-with super-nice yarny!
Send positivity soon plz.
*Note for foreign readers: Working Tax Credits are a kind of UK welfare benefit that you get if you are in full-time work, but earning less than X amount. Various factors (including children, disability, hours worked, phase of the moon, consumption of cheese etc) are taken into account when figuring out (a) what that X amount should be for each person and (b) how much Tax Credit that person should be given. The system is hugely complicated and has lurched from one catastrophe to another since it began.
The attempt at GET has been called off on account of (1) me not having a bloody clue what I'm doing (see comments, previous post), and (2) me ending up feeling like I'd been scraped off the sole of my own shoe (probably because, see 1 above). I think I'll settle for: as long as I get up every day and go to work when I'm supposed to, then I'm doing quite enough.
The Inland Revenue have been sent me a nasty letter. It's to do with my Working Tax Credits claim from 2003. You don't want to be bored to death by the details - suffice to say, I haven't claimed or received any money from them since I stopped work in 2005 (because, Working Tax Credits, duh), I hadn't heard from them since 2006, I thought everything was fine, I even have a letter from them saying that I owe them nothing and they owe me nothing... but now I have a bill for over £500, which, frankly, is more than a month's wages, and an accompanying letter threatening legal action and 'interest accruing daily until the balance is zero'. I fear this may take a lot of untangling.
Steve keeps injuring himself (mostly hurting his back or his leg) and I can't do anything to help. He's also studying really intensively, so by the time I crawl in from work, we're both shuffling about like the living dead - in body and in brain - to try and prepare a semi-nutritious evening meal between the two of us. It would be comical if either of us were brain-awake enough to appreciate it.
It's the end of January. 'Nuff said.
Even my yarny is causing problems - I started turning the heel on my sock and lo, halfway through the ball, a KNOT. And not just a tangle which with care and attention might be unpicked. No, this was a proper, two definite ends of yarn, tied together in a big ugly knot. Okay, so not the end of the world, I cut it off and then started knitting again as if with a second ball... but for pity's sake, this was supposed to be my birthday-treat, make-me-happy, pleasure-to-knit-with super-nice yarny!
Send positivity soon plz.
*Note for foreign readers: Working Tax Credits are a kind of UK welfare benefit that you get if you are in full-time work, but earning less than X amount. Various factors (including children, disability, hours worked, phase of the moon, consumption of cheese etc) are taken into account when figuring out (a) what that X amount should be for each person and (b) how much Tax Credit that person should be given. The system is hugely complicated and has lurched from one catastrophe to another since it began.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
