A rather late book recommendation - The Other Hand

I read 'The Other Hand' by Chris Cleave some time ago now and consistently recommended it to friends and colleagues as well as packing a close friend off with a copy as he headed off for his new life in France.





I was gripped from the start with this inspirational piece of writing and had read the entire book over just a couple of days.

With little time to write a review, I would suggest visiting the official website to take a look at what others have had to say - http://tiny.cc/0sCO3

But what I will say is, if you haven't read 'The Other Hand', you're missing something really very special.

And the point of Christmas is?

Christmas is a time for reflection, expressing compassion and love towards our fellow beings, being kind, thoughtful and caring.

Yeah, right, clearly not in the town I live in!

The festive period has become so disgustingly commercial these days with retail giants generating a false pressure on every living soul to deliver the biggest, the best, and the most desirable - the latter also being false and manufactured - so that they can whip up a positively repulsive activity that is known as the pre-Christmas sale.

I find the fear of disappointing a friend or loved one by not delivering the perfect present on the big

day, really quite concerning.

A simple phone call on Christmas day from someone I love would mean the world to me. The thought of them being pushed and elbowed in a retail jungle, close to tears because they can't find me something that I 'would absolutely adore' quite frankly sickens me.

I couldn't wait to get back to my desk this lunchtime. I popped in to the town centre to pick up a Christmas card for my partner (we don't buy each other presents by the way, just being together for the Christmas break is enough) and had to plough my way through a torrent of stressed, rude and even angry people. I'm not sure I even saw anyone smiling.

Heavens above, it's Christmas! And even if you're not religious or a Christian (I’m neither), it should be a beautiful time of year when we can, even if it's just for one day, express a little love. Good grief, I'm nearly crying writing this!

It's excruciating watching people putting themselves through this absurd pursuit. What is the western world turning in to when we're afraid of giving a token gift to say 'I'm thinking of you this Christmas and by the way, I love you', in case the recipient thinks it was cheap or not the model they wanted?

I utterly refuse to be influenced by marketing hype at Christmas. If I see a little gift that I can give someone to show them that I'm thankful that they're there, I buy it and the smile I receive is the only gift I want in return.

Please, let's not let this situation become worse, because I'm fearful about how it will all end.

Merry Christmas, with love

Dean

I'm back!

Oh it's good to be back and although this posting will be short I will be back in to the swing of things in due course.

What with a mammoth project to complete in a very unreasonable timeframe, a compere script to write, final exam 'mock features' to compose and submit, a holiday and then more work my poor blog took a bit of a back seat and I was so enjoying getting it going.

And worse, I've not been keeping track of all the wonderful blogs I love to read...I miss you but look forward to catching up with you all.

Dean x

A reluctant acceptance of Autumn

Trying to deny the unavoidable onslaught of Autumn, my partner and I packed the rucksacks with provisions, fleecy zip-up tops, a pair of jeans each (just in case we were being a little optimistic) and the life jackets this weekend. We grabbed our caps and even, which I still find amusing, the factor 20 sunscreen and headed off down to the river.

It has been just three weeks since we last rowed out to the yacht from the shingle beach, when we spent the day sailing, often seeking shade from the still very hot sun and surprisingly diving in the river from deck and swimming ashore at the stunningly beautiful and serene anchorage point on the river.

Following the rather torturous week we had both suffered at work last week, we decided as we both deserved a relaxing Saturday we would spend a few hours lazing around in the cockpit of our yacht Fedwell - so wonderfully named by her previous owner due to his wife constantly cooking onboard and keeping him well sustained with delicious casseroles.

Sitting on board in the middle of what is in my opinion one of the most loveliest rivers in Suffolk, with few distractions - even the distinctive warble of the oystercatchers on the mud banks is part of the fabric of the peace there - one has no choice but to relax.

Driving out to the small village on the edge of the River Deben, where our tender is tethered by the pub at the water's edge, I kept an eye on the ambient temperature gauge of the car's dash and was conscious that it was dropping. By the time we arrived at the boat yard's car park it was just 17 degrees Celsius. The thought that our jeans were in the bag was comforting.

We heaved the tender down the shingle to where the river met the bank, which being a spring tide was further down than usual. Keeping close in shore so that we avoided the worst of the flood tide we rowed out to Fedwell.

Climbing aboard and transferring the bags and food to the galley, we both relieved ourselves of the cumbersome lifejackets and settled down with the day's newspapers, both sighing in unison an extended breath of relief. The weekend had begun.

It wasn't long before I announced that I was going to retreat down below, although bright, and warm to some degree when the sun peered from behind the greying clouds, the wind had the signs of Autumn. An Autumnal breeze has a typical icy cold thread running through it that has a knack of slicing through clothing and pinching the skin.

We relaxed, although we headed home sooner than we usually do and as we stopped at the roadside stalls of one of the village's small holdings to purchase a few onions and Mediterranean peppers for a supper idea, I bid the Summer farewell and offered Autumn a reluctant welcome.

Cashing in on misfortune

It's quite ironic that it was the moment when I slipped on someone's discarded egg mayonnaise sandwich that I spotted the first accident claims rep in the street.

She laughed and then I laughed but probably more out of embarrassment than anything, then I said: “Can I claim for that?”, her expression answered my question.

I think I can say that I don't know how I feel towards accident claim companies, although I'm not altogether that comfortable with the suing culture that seems to be filtering its way in to England. In my view, if you trip on a paving slab then perhaps you should have been paying more attention to where you were walking. Hey! I look out for raised paving slabs, not egg mayonnaise sandwiches okay, and I never sued.

Seeing the rep standing behind her portable, branded podium made be ponder the fact that there doesn't seem to be the raft of 'no win, no fee' TV commercials that there used to be.

It wasn't until a little later after walking along the street, still dragging my right foot along the pavement to remove the more stubborn fragments of hard boiled egg, that I encountered a second accident claims rep, same type of podium, different company, this time with a message scribbled in dry marker pen on the side.

The message said: "Earn cash, £100 for each referred claim."

It then occurred to me that this may be the dawn of a new wave of accident claim companies, appealing to the public's more greedy side, encouraging them to sue the pants off people whenever they feel they may be able to get away with it despite how minor the accidents or repercussions are. Alright, we're in a recession and money is tight but do we need to turn to this for extra cash? Oh, I hope not.

I looked up in the sky, expecting to see accident claim lawyers circling above like vultures in braces and three piece suits, waiting for their next morsel of carrion. I didn't of course, instead I got an eyeful of a bank worker standing in the window of the staff room, looking out, plastic cup in one hand and the little finger of the other rooting around in his left nostril - perhaps he was looking for more toxic funds.

I left the high street to wander down to one of the two shopping centres we have here in the town, only to be greeted by a stall in the atrium area, manned by a couple grunts who were approaching people to see if they wanted to sell their jewellery. For cash! Oh dear me, I was struck by another scavenger simile, perhaps this time a hyena, hysterically laughing while they removed the 24 carat gold, family heirloom off from some financially struggling pensioners neck.

Clearly a recession strips us of more than jobs and savings, it seems it's capable of stripping us of our morals and ethics too.

Extending the beauty of trees

I love trees. No I do, I really love them, being around them, looking at them, sitting by them somehow clears my mind and reenergises my soul.

Seeing a dead or dying tree often saddens me, particularly if it's been damaged by someone or has been chopped down for reasons of health and safety.


Walking through the park today however I stumbled across a few tree stumps - the remnants of vandalism or risk assessments I presume - which had been crafted into items of beauty which to me had extended the wonder of these glorious plants.


So in one of my less 'angry' states of mind (that's probably because I’ve been walking in a wooded park, there see, what did I tell you?), I'd like to share some of them with you.

I particularly like the bench, just because it's now something people can really connect with and because it has been sculptured from the tree and not processed into timber and assembled, there's a certain magic about it.


Here's one more. Enjoy

No! I don't want any help

I'm not usually a bad tempered person but shop assistants really got my goat yesterday.

What is it about me, do I have a face that suggests that I'm a helpless little twerp who has no capacity whatsoever in selecting products in a shop? I grant you that I may have looked a tad vague yesterday after enduring a pretty hefty morning's work but I had my shopping agenda firmly planted in my mind and my line of attack sorted.

With barely the preceding edge of the nail of my big toe over the threshold of the first shop I entered, an ever so slightly over made-up shop assistant almost incoherently yelled: "You alright there sir, would you like any help?".

Politely I replied:"I'm very well thank you my love and no, I don't require any help, thanks."

Just a few seconds passed as I negotiated the slalom of pushchair shoving, young (some very young) mums when a second assistant forced a smile, looked me directly in the eye and said in an uncharacteristically clipped manner:"You alright there sir, would you like any help?"

With just an inkling of irritation I said:"I'm really rather experienced in shopping thanks, I think I can handle choosing the right body spray and shoe deoderiser, cheers."

Paying for my goods, albeit minus the shoe deoderiser because I couldn't find any, I headed to the next shop on my mental list.

I pushed open the door backwards using my backside as I had a carrier bag in one hand and mobile clamped to my right ear with the other. Despite it being very clear that I was engaged in a telephone conversation, which let's face it could have been with someone terribly important, an acne ridden lad in a grubby assistant's uniform frowned at me and said:"Do you need any help sir?"

I ignored him and yanked my head in the direction of my phone to draw his attention to the fact I was mid chat. At this point he came over and muttered:"Yes sir what is it you're after."

I calmly drew my conversation with my window cleaner (OK, so it wasn't someone terribly important) to a close, put my bag down on the floor and said:"Do you know what I'm after? Huh? I'm after a shopping trip free of bloody shop assistants pouncing on me within seconds of entering their shop and asking whether or not I want any help."

On that I note I stormed out of the shop, returned for my bag, stormed back out and headed towards my office.

Still grinding my teeth I negotiated the double doors of the office to enter the serenity of the lobby, at which point someone followed me in, I smiled and said:"Good afternoon sir, can I help you?"