As Seen on TV

We've been much enjoying the BBC2 series Episodes a vicious satire on television production, (mostly in America). Brilliantly acted by Stephen Mangan and Tamsin Greig who we knew were good from Green Wing and others, but also ... Matt LeBlanc has been a revelation. Who knew that Joey could do that?

This and The Trip may just be the future of television comedy, or at least the direction it should be following.

Shopping

This blog hasn't had a magazine review for a while, so here's a new one. It's the Morrison's supermarket Jan/Feb issue and it's a classic.

"January is a month for looking after yourself and enjoying lots of healthy food ..." are the first words you come across in the editorial. It's not just the editor who thinks so, either.

"January is a good time to cook nutritious meals that taste great and make you feel great, too", says Aldo Zilli on page 31.

Well that's all right then. I'd like to know though which are the months when I shouldn't be looking after myself, and when it is a bad time to cook nutritious meals (or maybe just ones that don't taste great, there's a logical conjunction in there that needs analysing). Should I start on Feb 1 with a big pile of chips? (Actually you can treat yourself to some "moreish" Morrisons chocolate which is much cheaper if you buy two bars*, but I'm not sure when you're allowed to get started on that.)

We know what they mean. We didn't get the Nov/Dec issue but I bet it was all about treats for Christmas (I'd have money on the phrase "long winter nights" turning up, too, no cliche unspoken) and adverts for lots of chocolate. So having persuaded you into all that, now they can press on with ".... lose those extra festive pounds ... how do you cut back without feeling you're missing out?" (I'm back in the editorial again).

If you think I'm cynical, I'm sure I'm not the only one, the Morrisons' (and others') marketing department is there too. Oh, I beg your pardon: "Editorial opinions expressed ... are not necessarily those of Wm Morrison Supermarkets plc ..." Maybe Morrisons don't think I should look after myself in January and Jenn Cooper will get a rocket for saying so? Who can say?

While we're being healthy, Michelin-star chef Paul Rankin "tells us why he loves chip butties". Er, mixed messages? He's got a favourite ingredient .. how cheffy is that? The temptation to put extra-virgin olive oil in his butty must be overwhelming. Or not.

Now some things to put in your diary, I hope you've got plenty of space:
23-29 January is Farmhouse Breakfast Week. No you don't have to go out into some wild cottage in the country thankfully, but it's a campaign to start the day with this important meal. There's a picture of a boiled egg and French bread but otherwise I don't have a clue what a Farmhouse Breakfast is, so you'll have to go to the website www.shakeupyourwakeup.com to find out the events in your area (maybe there is a farmhouse to go to, wouldn't that be fun?) and "inspiring" breakfast ideas.

February is National Heart Month, including Wear Red day on the 25th. The British Heart Foundation is 50 so is having lots of celebrations to raise money (sic).

Bramley Apple Week starts on February 6. It's the best apple for cooking and it's grown only in Britain. I think we should stop being so mean to other countries and export them some trees.

And Feb 3 is Chinese New Year (celebrations on the 6th in Leicester Square) so there are some "healthier" recipes to celebrate. Do you think the Chinese will mind this insult to their culture? I wonder if they produce healthier Christmas dinner recipes for us and what Morrisons would think of them?

(Helpfully, all the recipes in the magazine tell you how much salt, fat etc there are in "one serving", whatever one serving is. I feel a spreadsheet and lots of graphs coming on.)

And don't forget Burns Night on January 25. Start the day with a Farmhouse Breakfast and finish with haggis, neeps and tatties and a whisky sauce (now you're talking).
And the Brighton Half-Marathon on 20 February. I think it's a bit late for me to sign up now though.

There is helpful advice too.

"Wrap rhubarb in plastic and store it in the coldest part of the fridge for up to a week." (Paul Thornton). I wonder if he means to say " ... no more than a week"? Perhaps it's the other way of looking at it.

Now one piece of advice I don't understand though. They give in five categories (energy, sugar, fat, saturated fat, and salt) a Guideline Daily Amount (GDA). This is a new one to me. Is it a recommended amount, a maximum, or a minimum? And why not call it one of these?
The sugar one is called total sugar so that one's clear but the other's aren't so-called, suggesting rather that they're what you should have or work towards - and 2500 calories for a man seems on the low side?

Why's it matter?

Back to the editorial: " .... we've included a few more indulgent recipes to treat yourself to - 30 per cent or under your GDAs". Er, but should I be making sure I get somewhere near the other 70% too? Maybe the chocolate will help me get there? Or a swift couple of pints with the lads?

There are some good things. There are some nice recipes and some for children to get them cooking too. There's very little overtly from "nutritionists" (but I think we need to look at this GDA thing and just how much fat you should have) and the keep fit advice is sensible and practical and not overdone with encouragements for vitamin pills and whatnot. I note that Zumba is an "exiting" (sic) new dance craze. Maybe everyone leaves early?

You can forgive the adverts and it's interesting where the chickens come from (and that the correct weight is 2.25 kg).

Three heaped tablespoons of cooked lentils count as one of your five a day. Geez that's a lot of lentils.

One excellent piece of advice when going shopping. Make a list and "you'll be surprised how much money you save ... you're not tempted to buy more than you really need" I wonder how much the store managers approve of that?

Oh I have to report one piece of sexism before I finish.

The tasting panel (soup this month) has 4 members - all mothers. Not even a token man, far less a balance. Maybe men are thought to be incompetent? Or maybe it's laziness. Must do bettr, Morrisons. But then there's no male customers at all pictured; I suppose some of the letters could be from men. Oh there is Scott, 15, and the packed lunches his mum makes for him.

I wonder what March and April are good months for?

*£1.19 each or 2 for £2. Er, two please!

Money (That's What I Want)

There aren't many upsides to having a not very active bank account, but at least you don't get phoned up by the bank all the time (actually I did the other day, but they haven't troubled to phone back). But my wife does.

Which is interesting. We haven't given them this phone number. And it's not in the book under the name they have. So how did they get hold of it? They have had to actively seek it out .... he doesn't know that we KNOW that.

My wife asked them. He didn't know (I didn't get the name clearly but I don't think it was James this time, it has been him several times before when we lived elsewhere). Or he wouldn't say. We'll call that a fudge rather than anything else. But the lies do come later.

We asked him to delete the number from his records. He said he would. I believe that to be a lie. Even if he wanted to or was able to, his managers wouldn't let him. Because then they couldn't pester us.

We tried the being nice "we know you've been told by your manager ... you've got a horrible job .... but we don't want phone calls" etc. No good. He persists even when it's clear we have no interest in what he wants to say.
He asks if we are satisfied with the service we get from the bank. We say no, the major problem being that they phone us up out of the blue when we do not want it. He doesn't take the hint.

We explained that we know that they phone up because they want to interest us in new "products". He says they don't. So that is lie number 2. Much as it would be lovely to believe what he says - that he sits around thinking about us and worrying that we are not happy with our bank account - it is difficult to believe that the bank would under-employ him in that way. We know he has to make a certain amount of phone calls to show that he is trying to sell some new product (God help him if he has a target quota of positive responses, he's on a loser at this house).

At least this time he didn't try to say - as James once did - that it is not secure having money in their bank and we should move it (over the telephone, for goodness' sake, who the hell is this man, what proof of who he is can he give us?) to an account in which we can't just get at OUR money, we "just" have to phone up to organise it, how is that an improved service?, when the clear answer to insecurity is we should take the whole lot out of this insecure bank. We like having our money on call without having to phone up and all the identity checks that would involve. Oh that time we had "too much" money. He'd sharp complain if we had too little - oh no that's right he'd actually love it as then he can charge us for an overdraft; no we're not falling for that one. We will keep a sufficient float, thank you, he doesn't know our circumstances and we aren't telling him.

Even his own words don't make logical sense, we are doing well he says, so why do we need something different? There was a lot more that was self-contradictory but mercifully I've forgotten it.

Apart from the bloody cheek of the banks trying to advise us how to manage our money, when they can't manage their own. Socks under the bed full of money have never looked so attractive.

New Mysteries

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Sat-Nav.

No?

I think it has a ring to it.

Fighting For Strangers

Three fixed points in the gaming (and indeed general) calendar:

Beer and Pretzels - third Saturday in May
Midcon - third weekend in November
and
The Live Draft - first (but this year, second) Saturday in September.

You get to annoy people at all three, but perhaps most enjoyably at the Draft when someone has been following a player for several minutes waiting for his chance to draft him - and you take him the pick before. 15 minutes later, Mark said he was still cross with me. Result. And only a L6 Returner who's not quick. But it was at least a more interesting choice than a L3 OG with 65S.

The thing is you know they are only little bits of computer code but you get strangely attached to them. (Groome and John this time are lamenting "old boys" who are now retiring.) So although now they are strangers, you hope in time they will be old friends (unlike several of the little so-and-sos who came to nothing - Groome again, cut a first round pick who never played ..)

Oxygene

Listen.

Can you hear it?

Someone calling?

Someone you know?

God's Spirit is all around, filling the world.

Comforting, warming.

This Spirit is grace and truth and peace and love. He is powerful, always in motion.

He never sleeps.

He wakes those who do sleep. His work is never done.

The Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss. He spoke "LET THERE BE LIGHT" and light appeared.

Power and energy exploded.

He lived in Saul and David, Elijah and Daniel. Dry bones came to life in the desert.

The energy was not spent.

He is persistent, relentless, empowering, encouraging.

As he drove the prophets he drives the saints.

He lived the martyrs, spoke the missionaries, taught the teachers, healed the doctors, thought the thinkers, showed the guides, led the wanderers, found the displaced.

They were all together in one place. There was a wind from nowhere and tongues of fire. It spread through the 12 and they spoke in tongues.

He is lightning and flood and turmoil.

He disturbs, discomforts, distresses, destroys.

And purifies.

He is light that cannot be quenched, heat that cannot be cooled, sound that cannot be silenced.

He is everywhere. He is in you.

He is your guide, your strength, your soul.

Are you listening?

Albatross

Why do everything when you can do nothing?
What is the point of activity?
It's under control or it's not.
What's the difference?
In the end? What means it?
Who is it for?
Still.
The rest is silence (?)

Autobahn

What comes next in the series: 3, 2, 1, 2, 1?

Well it's arguable if that is the right series, I suppose. Technically it's either 3, 1, 2, 1 or 3, 3A, 2, 1, 2, 1. The first is what you see and the second is what is actually the case.

The answer of course is 27.

It is a sequence I've got to know well.

Well it's easy if you live round here. They are the junctions you come to if you drive past Manchester Airport toward the M62 (or M67 if you like).

You come to J3, then the next is 3A (but you skip it; technically it's after J3 but you only come to J3A if you don't go off at J3 in which case you don't get to J2, you eventually finish up at J5 heading toward 6, if you know when to turn left), then J2 (which you don't see since you can't come off at it from an anticlockwise direction) and J1 are on the M56. Then you come to J2 and J1 on the M60 - and then you come to J27 on the M60 and start going down again. (Circular road, geddit?)

But it is a bit of a surprise when you're looking for J2 and you have to go 3, 1, 2 and it's the wrong one. Wha'appen? as you might say. Well it took me a while anyway.

And you come down off the Kingsway and want to go West and you can only go along the M56 although you can practically touch the M60 so then you come off at J2 and along the A560 and up the A5103 (I think) and that does take you on to the M60 at last but you've skipped 4 junctions.

And don't get me started on J18. Nightmare.

But I guess it does actually work. I thought Bristol was bad there you only get in the wrong lane, not the wrong damn motorway.

Let There Be More Light

The salesman from npower came round again to the doorstep, promising to save us money again. What does he think he's doing?

1. He can't possibly know that he can save us money unless he knows things he shouldn't. So he's a liar or he's invaded our privacy. He hasn't done any research, he doesn't know who's not got gas and he doesn't know who owns their house and who doesn't. He doesn't know anything.

2. All the companies say that. Therefore at least all but one are lying or deluded. Or their salespeople are which is just as bad.

3. He expects you to take his word for it! If you ask for a leaflet or something with information to work it out, he hasn't GOT any, let alone any to give out.

4. Who buys off the doorstep like that? You need time to think about it.

5. He's on commission. OK some people on commission really do have a good product, but you still have to have an element of caution. He doesn't care whether you get the right product or if the price will go up as soon as they've locked you into a contract. His money's made.

6. He's got a rotten job. That's no excuse to go around making stuff up. And what confidence do you have in someone if that's his best shot? He's not interested in providing a service (like putting in a gas pipe).

7. Why isn't the pricing simple so you can understand it? Because then you'd see if you had a good deal or not. The power companies aren't competing on price like supermarkets. They couldn't reliably promise to if they wanted to, because of the speculators and the international situation. The point of privatisation was stated to be that competition would drive prices down and thereby be better for consumers. Balderdash and piffle exposed.

Who Do You Think You Are

I'd never seen him like that.

We'd spent a fair bit of time together one way and another up to that point, shared some good times, some bad times, some trying times, but I'd never seen him like that.

He was mostly good with people, patient (too patient), kind, caring (of course, you know that), he made time for people, he listened, he explained - and he forgave of course.

Yes, he got exasperated and he could be forceful, sharp, when he needed to be and he even got a bit cunning on occasion. And he could make his point. I remember after the mountain thing he tore Peter off a right strip - I was never sure exactly why, I think I missed something - but even then he was in complete control of himself.

And sometimes when you thought he'd be right angry he was only a bit sad and disappointed. He was sad sometimes, and tired and frustrated and maybe a bit short but we'd had some laughs too along the way, specially when he told his funny stories. (Some of them weren't so funny when you thought about them, mind.)

And he'd coped with the confrontations and the accusations and the put-downs and the plain lies.

Anyway, this time -

He lost it.

I mean, he really lost it. Completely and utterly. I'd never seen him like that.

It was only a few minutes, but it's stayed with me.

It was near the end and he went into the temple and he saw what was going on and he went berserk.

He was like a wild beast. He went for the nearest table and gave one heave and upended it just like that and all the money went all over the floor and out the door and they were all scrabbling about for it. Someone came up to remonstrate with him and I thought he was going to flatten him but he just pushed him over and carried on, smashing the place up.

We were even going to say something but he turned round and looked at us, just for an instant, that's all, and we froze.

His look stopped us dead. That, and his words - he was roaring, barely coherent - but something about we were all thieves and could we not keep one place holy, just one, and I felt like I was guilty along with all the rest - but I wasn't was I? I'd never seen him like that. And I don't want to see it again, ever, but I can't forget it.

And in a moment the energy went out of him, not surprising, suddenly he realised where he was, I suppose, and he just walked out and we followed him. We gave him a couple of minutes, just in case.

And then we tried to understand.

I got it, I think, eventually.

He could cope, more or less, with the day-to-day stupidity and ignorance and the pettiness and selfishness of us all, yes me too, but the thing that sent him over the top was the deliberateness, the knowingness of it. It was like a defiance.

I think something happened to him from it - it seemed to give him the last bit of determination that maybe he needed that week.

But anyway from that few minutes, I think I learned something I hadn't really worked out before. I understood now about floods and plagues and fires and exiles. I understood that God could get angry.

And I never want to see that again.

Blinded me with Science

A very good programme on Horizon on Tuesday in which David Baddiel explored education. The hook was that he wanted as a parent to know if you could balance attainment with, well I suppose being "normal", emotionally healthy or whatever. It did rather turn into the usual travelogue of 10-minute pieces and opinions which were not summarised let alone compared and contrasted but at least it was an attempt to do some science ie examine a few theories and the evidence provided rather than a weak form of sociology which is normally what you get.

BBC doesn't seem to do transcripts any more now, it's just "33 days to watch it again on I-player" so pending me doing that I'll have to go from memory.

Very struck by the teacher who reckoned there was a 3-word weasel phrase you should never use - "you're so clever". See the point; you lock the child into a success-oriented pattern where they can't try anything new or challenging in case they suddenly look not-clever. Hard to avoid, but David at least found "I can see you've worked really hard" which looks OK. I guess "you've done really well" is borderline acceptable.

But then paying kids who do well seemed pretty successful too. Blow delayed gratification, get them started on reward now (money!) and they'll see the benefits immediately and get them into a pattern. Note the reward is for consistency - full attendance - and effort put in. There would have to be some allowance for kids who get sick?

Slightly concerned about the two lads 8 and 10 who have respectively GCSE and A-level Maths and want to be actuaries - just what their dad wants them to be. Still they seemed happy and friendly and to have a secure home life. I wonder if they'll still want the same thing at 14 and at what age anyone will actually let them be an actuary, which seems to be a pertinent and unexplored point. David did say the proof was in the eating.

And have we learned to teach reading at last? Don't hold your breath. Phonics (or phonetics?) is still in but the research evidence is still a bit thin (admittedly really difficult when you can't have a control group, but still no attempt at really proving why it works). Some interesting ideas on dyslexia that it is really about sounds and not shapes. More to say there. And a proper mention of dyscalculia and an an experiment that seemed to replicate it? Now that is science.

No-one really knows how anyone learns anything though.

Money (That's What I Want)

Two classic quotes from Shakespeare.

The first is from Henry V (I think, willing to be corrected):

"First thing, let's kill all the lawyers".

The second is from Hamlet:

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be".

There speaks a man who had a mortgage.

Which is unlike me, since two weeks ago today. Brave new world?

Remember Me

I am not a big shopper. I don't have many store cards. In fact, now I have one less. I used to have one with a clothing store, name begins with B, you know them.

So I was going past the other day and they had an offer on of 20% off for all card holders. Well that had to be worth a look. The only problem was that when I found something and took it to the desk, the card wasn't recognised. Yes, it's all paid off, not missed a payment.

Phoned up. (Call centre in India, possibly. Certainly no-one who could do anything, of course, been there with npower yada-yada and others.) It had been cancelled 3 weeks before. (Nobody bothered to tell me, warn me.) Hadn't used it enough.

OK, I know it's a loyalty card. It's supposed to encourage "repeat business" in the jargon. But if it gets cancelled - no warning, remember, no "if you want to keep your card active, let us know", no offers "as a valued card member, we'd like to suggest ..", nothing, not even a note "it's 20% off next Thursday" (I happened across it, recall), you know that might have produced a sale, I think, then what is it?

It's the second time it's happened (I went back once and filled all the forms in again for a new one - but you don't want to keep doing that) and therefore what I have now is a disloyalty card. Which is surely no good to anyone?

(And all this in the middle of the worst recession for ages - do they want to sell?) Really.

This Old House

There used to be a recurring sketch/character on one of Paul Whitehouse/Harry Enfield's shows, about an estate agent who knew nothing but could only state the obvious (eg "this is the kitchen") and answered every question with "I don't know".

I didn't use to find it very funny, like most of their sketches it's a one-joke concept and it very quickly gets boring. (Tangent: Funny characters are one thing, but you have to do something with them, it seems to me. Whatever happened to jokes and wit?)

Anyway I now realise it wasn't intended as a joke or even a parody. It's a vicious expose of the real-life case.

When an estate agent takes someone to see a house, and that house is literally round the corner from the estate agent's office (one minute's walk), then you might expect the estate agent to know that the street that the house is on is a one-way street (has been for 10 years) and you might expect her not to bring the prospective buyers through a no-entry sign and drive their cars the wrong way up that one-way street.

You would apparently be wrong.

The first rule of selling is "know your product". Not "turn up with no knowledge or information and find out about it along with the people you are trying to sell to".

I despair.

Silence is Golden

Speech is only silver.

















The more words you use, the less you say.

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

The difference between a prophet and a priest.

A priest always sees signs of a spiritual revival. (It's an occupational hazard.)
A prophet never does. (Ditto.)

A priest will tell you what they hope.
A prophet will tell you what they fear.

Holiday

I was challenged to write about my holiday, so here it is. One of the places we went to was New Lanark, where we learned about Robert Owen.

Robert Owen founded the community of New Lanark and invented primary education, the Co-op (originally the Co-operative Wholesale Society) and thereby ethical trading, and trade unionism, and his son founded the Smithsonian Institute. Not bad for one lifetime.

He believed the job of the wealthy was to help the poor (which he did), to help them to better themselves by education (which he did) and not to exploit them (that may depend on your current point of view, but for the time he was very enlightened). He believed that workers could be encouraged without the threat of sacking and that to improve their behavious it was only necessary to note it (and it worked, by all accounts). He was attacked in the newspapers for his ideas by those too cowardly to give real names.

He believed that education was the key to living in harmony and he foresaw a New Millennium when all would be able to live together without discord. He campaigned against child labour and did not use it in his mills - when everyone else did. He eventually got a Bill passed, even if it was so watered down by the vested interests that it was nearly useless.

Why is he not better known (Scotland does better in this regard and he has been on postage stamps.?

Maybe because:

1. He was Scottish.

2. He didn't see any benefit in religion.

3. His ideas are still unpopular today.

Take your pick.

The Sun Has Got His Hat On

... which is fine, he can do that. But I wish he wouldn't bang on the window so early in the morning to ask me to come out to play.

I do like the long days of summer, that it's light when you are ready to get up and stays light until you're nearly ready to go to bed. (Already the nights have drawn in a bit, beginning to get dark at about half nine and it's only July, but hey.)

But when the bedroom faces east and the sun shines in through even thick dark curtains and wakes me up it can be a bit tiring and increase the chance of me needing an afternoon nap or falling asleep in Eggheads. 4 o'clock, I ask you. Even nearly five is still very early for those of us who really do need our eight hours at least.

Time to have British Double Summer Time? Then it wouldn't get light till six and would still be good at ten?

The R-word

The most feared word in magazine publishing, at least according to the film "13 Going on 30". So we won't even whisper it. We just do it. Seems the time for it (probably should have been done long ago).

Hanging on the Telephone

The telephone is ringing off the hook with calls from beautiful blondes, and when it's not then I'm calling out, selecting from options, being re-routed to the person who actually knows something (sometimes) or can do something (less often) or can actually sort out the problems caused by other people (very rare). It takes three or more goes of course before someone answers and even then "your call is very important to us" well why don't you bloody answer it then is the sort of response you might give "our lines are very busy" I'm not surprised with the standard of service you generally get.

I've been threatened with debt recovery procedures by npower, Darlington Borough Council and Carlyle Finance, notwithstanding the fact that the first two of these don't actually know how much I owe them (or indeed whether they in fact owe me) and the last has a different figure to me and can't explain why in a way that I can understand. Certainly none of them can provide accurate statements of account, invoices, receipts or any of the documentation that you might expect from a company that knows what it's doing day-to-day. Oh and Angela had a letter threatening to cut off the gas, don't know who that's from, but it's because they can't get the address right or realise that sometimes people move house (I'm not making this up).

In addition there's the banks. There was a man (true story, this, it was on Radio 4 and everything) who got so pissed off with the Yorkshire Bank that he changed his name by deed poll to Yorkshire Bank Are Fascist Bastards plc and got it put on his Yorkshire Bank cheque book. He was wrong, of course, in that he should have changed his name to All Banks are Fascist Bastards plc especially Northern Rock (and you'd think they were into customer service lately having made all our shares worthless through unadulterated greed). When they realise what a balls-up they've made of everything, who ends up bailing them out? You and me. It's enough to make you go back to keeping it in a sock under your bed, at least it might be safer there. So the rules on mortgages have all been switched even when you've been promised that everything will work out. The canard that the banks are there to help the customer (and it looks like it is all banks) has been well and truly found out.

Anyway back to the telephone. Most of the time you get through to a very nice Customer Service Assistant who explains very politely that no he/she can't do anything about it, the computer's in charge and he/she can't override it, but he/she can explain exactly what the computer is thinking (no-one else there does any, obviously) and if you're lucky he/she says "oh don't worry about the gas getting cut off" which is all very well for him/her and James in fact couldn't say that this time despite what the previous girl (Fiona?) had said last month. So you have to do their work for them because clearly they can't get anyone to read the meter (they're all on the phone instead) but 250 miles is quite a long way to go just for that.

To be fair to Darlington Borough Council and their James (there's two, keep up) he did phone back with a much reduced figure which might even be claimable back at some unspecified point in the future (still no invoice, but hey I can get a receipt) and even Alison is a person in her own right who can make arrangements on the spot and is not a mouthpiece for the computer, even if letters arrive somewhat unexpectedly when you thought a Direct Debit would naturally keep things under control. (I'm still waiting for an invoice from Social Services which doesn't seem to be forthcoming.) On the other hand, to sort anything out you have to speak to a minimum of three different people in three different offices with different phone numbers (and not the one they tell you to ring on the letter) because they don't communicate with each other. It's called division of responsibilities, at least that's the polite name for it.

And I still have to ring back the Management Officer of Rockwell House (promise unfulfilled) - so that I can ring npower and go round that loop again - and Carlyle Finance haven't come up with a receipt to show that yes it is all paid off despite the best efforts of Northern Rock. Oh and where's my cheque from BT? (This time I do have a letter saying they owe me, strewth, talk about small mercies.) So it's back to more Vivaldi how much can one man write?