I've been Facebooked!

Alright - I own up. I've finally succumbed and become one of the trillions of geeks involved in the latest phenomenon of Facebook!
I've made friends with friends I already have (what?) and swapped inane messages on the"Wall" with Karleigh, Andi, Kevin and others too numerous to mention.
I've put a picture on my entry and seen lots of pics of my younger friends at drunken parties - sometimes showing off under the affluence of incahol.
I've invited them all to view this blog - perhaps they will, perhaps they won't. I won't know unless they post comments.
I've joined various causes, including the "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue appreciation society" and one that purports to support the Buddhist monks in Burma.
I've done all this and yet - I still don't know what its all for . . .

Roland's on the Rampage!

The cheeky little beggars!
They stroll into my back garden, help themselves to apples and then scurry away as if they owned the place!
They don't give a sod that they're our apples. OK so they're windfalls and we just haven't cleared them from the garden but that's not the point - they're OURS!
I'm not talking of local wayward kids scrumping apples, I'm talking rats!
Two of them to be precise, a large greyish one and a smaller more brown-coloured one. I'll call them Roland and Roberta. Bold as brass you can see them scurrying about in our garden minding their own business and then disappearing for a few moments into next door's garden to give morsels to - I suspect - little baby Rolands.
Having observed this for a little while we decided that SOMETHING MUST BE DONE!
So we obtained a bait box and laid it on their normal route. A week or so went by with no sign of any of the bait being taken. Then today, glancing out of the kitchen window, I noticed Roland going about his business in the garden and going into the bait box! I watched fascinated as he took some of the bait and disappeared next door for a few seconds - presumably passing food to family. Then Roberta joined in, both of them ferrying morsels into the neighbouring garden and then after a few seconds reappearing for more.
My next door neighbour called in the pest control people from the local council. He said any rats would probably be coming from the area at the back of the local shop about 100 metres away where they heap all their rubbish waiting for collection. He said there was no sign of rats in next door's garden - but what does he know? I've witnessed them coming through a gap in the fence and then disappearing back there. So that is why we had to do something for ourselves.
There is something quite cute about these little rodents doing what little rodents do and it makes me feel guilty that I have poisoned them and condemned them to a slow, lingering death in agony as the anti-coagulant in the poison gets to work and they bleed to death internally.
At the same time these little furry friends can bring disease to the neighbourhood and as such should be destroyed.
It's just a pity that their way of life and ours do not lend themselves to peaceful co-existence. I know that there are plenty of places nearby where the rats would be undisturbed. Streams run nearby - one even running through a small Wildlife Conservancy area which is probably a safe haven for them.
But wasteful man leaves all these tit bits around - discarded crisp bags, snack crumbs, other tasty morsels - which are easy pickings for Roland and Roberta and all their many, many cousins.
I mustn't get too soft or I'll end up creating a Rat Sanctuary in my garden!
Wouldn't that be cute . . . ?

Flying . . .

I did it!

I'm still up in the clouds!

I went flying!

It was a perfect day. Almost totally clear with just a few whispy clouds floating around at about 4,000 feet. Visibility was perfect. Wind was almost non-existent.

We arrived at the airport and I was soon walking across the tarmac to a small two-seat Cessna 150 aircraft - call sign Golf-Bravo Romeo Tango Juliet.

We did the preliminaries - a quick check around the aeroplane and some discussion of what the controls did and what the instruments told me - and then we were taxi-ing towards runway 27 awaiting clearance from ATC for take-off.

In a small aircraft like the 150 you certainly feel the bumps and lumps. As we flew over a local quarry soon after take-off at about 1,000 feet and climbing at a rate of 300ft per minute there was a sudden updraught caused by hot air rising off the bare rock of the quarry. It gave me a bit of a kick but all was under control.

I had an hour of pure excitement, finding it challenging to think of controlling a machine not just in two dimensions like a car - left, right and ahead - but also up and down! Remembering to keep the craft level while in a banking turn made you really think at first. But when I ceased gripping the controls and relaxed and let the craft do most of the work I began to relax and enjoy the exhilarating feeling.

All this was thanks to my darling wife Ros and my two sons Andi and Chris, who paid for the flight as my birthday present.

Thank you for one of the most exciting times of my life and an experience that will live with me for ever!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place . . .

One bloke borrows money from another. He promises to pay it back with interest. He then lends that money to several other blokes, who each promise to pay it back with interest. They then lend it to more blokes, who each also promise to pay it back with interest. Bloke number one then asks for repayment of his loan. Bloke number two says he has to find out who has the money so that he can get it back and repay Bloke number one. Blokes three, four and five say they have to find out who has the money so that they can repay Bloke number two so that he can repay Bloke number one.
And so on . . .
This recently happened in the "good ole US of A" - that bastion of capitalist society. The lending had got so out of hand that nobody knew who owed whom and how much it was. The situation led to several financial institutions going broke because they couldn't find their money!
This led to a financial crisis in the US which had repercussions worldwide.
In the UK we used to have wonderful institutions called mutual building societies. They were originally started by groups of people who invested money and became equal shareholders in the society. They lent money to other people for the express purpose of buying their homes. The borrowers also became shareholders on account of the property they were buying belonged to the building society until the loan was fully paid. The people who invested money did so for the purpose of saving and as such they were paid a rate of interest. The people who borrowed were able, in the long term, to own their own homes. They paid a slightly higher rate of interest. The difference in the rates of interest paid for the administration of the society.
Through most of the 20th century this system worked well. You went to a building society when you needed to buy a house and they advanced you a loan called a mortgage. You could have as much as thirty years to pay the loan at a rate of interest much lower than bank loan interest rates.
Then the big banks got interested in widening their business. They started issuing mortgages. They also thought it would be a good idea to buy up building societies. Many of the shareholders of these building societies - both borrowers and investors - saw a quick buck and sold their shares.
Some of the bigger building societies then realised that they could break into the banking world and reverse the trend. So they decided to cease to be mutual societies and become public limited companies. Members would become shareholders not only in name but also in the eyes of the Stock Market. Or they could just take the value of the shares to which they were entitled and run - which many did. Most of these companies then expanded into banking, insurance and many other financial areas.
Now there are only a few mutual societies left.
Northern Rock was a building society based originally in the north of England. Although it gave up its mutual status it still based its business mainly on the lending of money for the purchase of homes.
But the scenario recited at the beginning of this post doesn't just happen in the US. It has spread worldwide. Northern Rock got caught up in this web. It realised that it had lost track of some of its investments and may not be able to meet the demand should its customers decide to withdraw money. So - with a good track record - it went to the grand old lady of Threadneedle Street (The Bank of England) and asked for financial backing. The Old Lady said yes and everything should have been fine. But Mr Average Northern Rock Investor got wind of this and decided that it would be better to invest elsewhere - just in case.
We now have the scene of hundreds of people queueing up outside Northern Rock branches to take out their money in case the bank goes under. More than one financial pundit has said words to the effect that in Britain this has not happened in living memory. Shares in Northern Rock have plummeted to below the level when the institution was first floated on the Stock Exchange.
Most of this is attributable to the fall in confidence in financial institutions brought about by the stupid US capitalist system of borrowing other peoples' borrowings.
People in this country - ordinary savers and borrowers - are losing confidence in their banks and want to see their cash in their hands rather than as a number on a bank statement.
Since the Bank of England has backed Northern Rock perhaps now would be a good time for the Chairman of the Grand Old Lady of Threadneedle Street to be seen going into a branch of Northern Rock with a large wad of cash and opening an account to show his confidence in the organisation. Perhaps he, or the Chancellor of the Exchequer, should even buy shares - or is there some rule against it?
If only we could keep it simple like it used to be . . .

High Expectations

Tomorrow is the day I go flying!
Yes, I finally take to the air in a two-seat aircraft and hopefully I will get to fly the machine under the watchful eye of an instructor. I'm so looking forward to it. The last time I did this was ten years ago in celebration of my 50th birthday. Then I was able to take my two sons in the passenger seats of a four-seater machine, leaving my wife on the ground to wait and hope I brought us all back safely.
This time I was hoping to be able to take my darling wife - but the only machine available is a two-seater. So, once again, my darling wife has to wait on the ground while I go up and get an hour of pure enjoyment. I do feel miffed because I so wanted her to share in the experience.
Nevertheless I intend to justify my family's birthday present by getting the most out of it in terms of experience and enjoyment that I can.
But it would have been so much better to have shared . . .

Where have all the Stars gone?

I mentioned in a recent post that I was on holiday in West Wales recently. One thing really struck me while I was there. Llangranog is a tiny hamlet in an idyllic cove. There are some houses, two pubs and a cafe. As I mentioned we stayed in one of the pubs right next to the beach. Each night we were there I would wander out on to the beach just before going to bed to have a smoke. I remember looking up and seeing a clear sky with lots of bright stars. Where I live on the edge of Bristol you can look up on a clear night and see just a few of the brightest of stars.
I got to thinking: Is this a result of global warming? Is it atmospheric pollution? After all when I was a kid (was it really half a century ago?) I lived pretty well in the heart of Bristol. We all burned dirty coal fires to keep warm. There was still plenty of heavy industry in the area pumping out more fumes and pollution. The Clean Air Act hadn't even been thought of. And yet, if you looked up on a clear night you could see thousands of stars - the bright, the not-so-bright and many hundreds of small dim specks in the sky.
Then the real reason dawned on me.
Light pollution.
We are obsessed with light. We more or less floodlight our streets and motorways. People light up their gardens for "ambiance". We have security lights, advertising lights all blazing away all night. Car lights are much more powerful nowadays and there are so many more vehicles on the roads. I sometimes feel we even have lights to light up our lights!
I can't talk. The company I work for sells all sorts of lights including the ubiquitous security lights and garden lighting. Everything from a 0.2 watt LED garden lamp to a 500 watt security floodlight. Now many of these devices have some advice in their instructions for use about using lights responsibly in order to reduce the impact of light pollution. But who reads the instructions? I suspect very few. Thus many security lights invade their neighbours' privacy and many light up as much sky as garden.
If only we could have a special night designated "No Lights Night". If it happened people would look up and be astounded at how much light Mother Nature provided and how much of it we are drowning with our own brash and ugly floods of misdirected light.
Think of the stars we could see.
Think of the carbon emissions which could be saved.
But then, think of the rich pickings for all the burglars . . .

Recycle or Renew?

I went to the opticians today. I was more than a year out of date with my eye test and I had noticed a distinct deterioration in my eyesight so I finally decided it had to be done.
I have, at present, two pairs of spectacles - identical frames, identical variable focus prescription lenses, but one clear for everyday use and one tinted for use in bright sunlight. Both frames are in good condition and fit very comfortably so I thought I would just have the prescription changed and use the frames again. It would save the cost of new frames.
So along I went and explained what I wanted. It turns out that opticians must make a large mark-up on frames because the deals they offer mean that it is cheaper to buy new frames with your new prescription glasses than to have the lenses changed!
When I made the point that I wanted to recycle the present perfectly adequate frames the young lady dealing with my query - one Ceri by name - stated that all old frames were recycled by sending them to Africa to help the poor people there.
Very commendable!
But . . . how much in the way of carbon emissions is generated by sending old spectacles to Africa? How much less would it be for me to send some cash to African charities?
I will probably have new frames because I cannot afford the difference. But I will still feel cheated and in some ways guilty that I could have been greener about the whole issue.