Another Shot in the Dark Answers

1. How many Brussels sprouts are sold in UK supermarkets each year at Christmas time? 750 million

2. In what month was the famous Christmas film Miracle on 34th Street first released in cinemas? May

3. What percentage of British adults aged 25-49 say that they make a list of presents that they ask for at Christmas? 26%

4. True or false: if you ate your Christmas tree, you would become seriously ill? False

5. What percentage of women say they prefer giving rather than receiving Christmas presents? 72%

6. What profession are most likely to have to work on Christmas Day? Priests

7. If Santa has a mince pie and a 200 ml glass of milk at each house (s)he visits to deliver presents, how many calories would (s)he eat on Christmas Eve? 150 billion

8. Of those cooking on Christmas Day, how long does the average Brit spend preparing Christmas dinner? 4 hours 16 minutes

9. In degrees Celsius, what is the highest temperature ever recorded at the North Pole? 13 degrees C

10. In Poland, which of the following is a common Christmas tree decoration: (a) Polish sausage (B) turnips (C) spider webs or (D) a rabbit foot? Spider webs

Too many questions

 Once upon a time, if you needed to see a doctor, you phoned up or called in at the surgery and made an appointment.  Not any more. Now you can only make an appointment on the same day.  And you have to phone at 8,00 am when the lines open.  Purportedly.  But they don’t.  They are always engaged.  And when you finally get through, all the appointments have gone.  ‘Try again tomorrow’ they say cheerfully.   After four days of this my dear husband was so enraged, I feared for his mental health.  Then someone said to try something called econsult.   

First of all you need a computer.  And you need to know how to use it so that excludes the poor and those who do not have a computer as they've lived perfectly well without one for 80+ years. 

But, no matter. Husband dies have a computer and some rudimentary knowledge.  After half an hour and much cursing I am summoned to assist.  I don’t know much either.  But between us we find the relevant pages and supply all manner of information.   They want a passport or a driving licence photo too.   Now 44% of Londoners don’t have a car and only 76% have a passport.  Excluding again.  

But husband does and after another forty minutes of photographing and uploading we are in.   And then begins the box ticking.  Completely irrelevant matters such as how much alcohol do you drink for example.  Then you asked to describe the problem.  A small lesion on his scalp.  But that won’t do.  Size, colour, texture, edges, height, and on and on.   

Then they demand a photograph of it.  He has to kneel down so that I can photograph his scalp.   The cat wonders in and gets in the photograph too.  (They didn’t ask if there was a cat in the household). Then the photo has to be cropped.   And then, having uploaded this photograph there appears a box where you asked to describe the lesion.   

I wrote that bit.  ‘Precisely as described and photographed above’. Finally, after over an hour it’s finished.  We click submit.  And then it asks How did we do? Perhaps it’s just as well that he clicked off before I wrote my furious response.   

And then, at 6.45 a doctor telephones.  ‘You need to come to the surgery tomorrow so that I can see it’.  

So, there were appointments after all.  And it did need to be seen.  

And some outsourced group of teenagers commissioned by our now privatised NHS had a load of fun wasting patients’ time and excluding great swathes of the population.   

I asked my computerless 88 yr old neighbour what she does.   Oh, she said ‘I just turn up and sit there until they get so sick of me I get seen.  

My friend E says she handwrites a letter addressed to the Dr and gives it to the receptionist.  

There must be better ways.   Like a phone call and an appointment.  

Is this worse than a disappearing electrician?  The jury’s out.  

Too much to ask?

I like order in my life. It's my balance, the other side of my chaotic, enquiring brain. So, if an electrician says he'll come between 8 and 9, I mentally prepare myself, because I know that his visit will disrupt the order of my life, even if only for a few hours: the electricity will be off, so no WiFi, no TV, no kettle, boiler or cryptic crossword on the Times app. No shopping or coffee shop, as I have to be en casa. And my house is small, so he'll be invading my space. Whereas I am generally easy about whether I get out of bed at 7:45, 8, 8:15 or whatever, now I have to be precise and make sure the alarm is going to work. Which means I wake up much earlier, in order to check the alarm does its (now unnecessary) job. Disorder. Stress.

So when the electrician I had booked for 08:30 yesterday didn't tun up, and didn't contact me except to answer my "where are you?" message 2 hours after it was sent, I was ticking. However, "mañana" he said [he's Manuel, from Barcelona]. Tomorrow. "Between 8 and 9". OK, reset alarm for Tuesday. More sleep deprivation stress. Today. 09:30. No sign of electrician. I've had enough and fire him by text. Don't mess with me.

Which leaves me looking for an alternative. We'll see how that goes.

If you're thinking I need a therapist rather than a builder, you're probably not wrong. Although both would be best; just turn up on time. Is that too much to ask?

Another Shot in the Dark

1. How many Brussels sprouts are sold in UK supermarkets each year at Christmas time?

2. In what month was the famous Christmas film Miracle on 34th Street first released in cinemas?

3. What percentage of British adults aged 25-49 say that they make a list of presents that they ask for at Christmas?

4. True or false: if you ate your Christmas tree, you would become seriously ill?

5. What percentage of women say they prefer giving rather than receiving Christmas presents?

6. What profession are most likely to have to work on Christmas Day?

7. If Santa has a mince pie and a 200 ml glass of milk at each house (s)he visits to deliver presents, how many calories would (s)he eat on Christmas Eve?

8. Of those cooking on Christmas Day, how long does the average Brit spend preparing Christmas dinner?

9. In degrees Celsius, what is the highest temperature ever recorded at the North Pole?

10. In Poland, which of the following is a common Christmas tree decoration: (a) Polish sausage (B) turnips (C) spider webs or (D) a rabbit foot?

Answers in the Comments below, please.

Answers will appear on 28 March.

Acknowledgement to @ShotintheDarkGames (FB) shotinthedarkgame.co.uk

Back to Tesco

A couple of years ago I switched from Tesco to Asda. Tesco has the advantage of being within walking distance of my house but I got fed up with their frequent moving around of the stock. I don't imagine I'm alone in wanting to know where the tea bags are or what aisle the washing up liquid is in. Don't mess me about! So I decamped to Asda, which is a five minute drive. During the first Covid lockdown, when home delivery was difficult to access, I used Lidl a lot and still do, although they have no café and a limited range of some items.

I know, this isn't my most promising post. Stay with me though.

A year or two ago I began to experience some soreness in my knees (I know, even less promising). After a couple of years I decided to get checked over by my GP, who sent me for an X-ray and subsequently to a physiotherapist. The first physio, a young man, gave me so many different exercises that I didn't know which to do, meaning I did none. He then told me he was going "back to uni" (was I fobbed off with a student?) and I saw a young woman. One of my most supportive readers told me that, in her experience, physios were generally 'posh girls', but when we're both (me and the physio, not me and the reader) wearing masks, it's hard to tell. Anyway, she gave me one exercise. Excellent, I can remember that and, more importantly, believe in it.

So I do the exercise reasonably regularly but, for normal health reasons, also try to do as much walking as possible. Which I hate, but brings me back to Tesco. Half a mile there and back. Manageable. If the weather permits I'll be doing this every morning: walk, shop, coffee (egg, bacon, etc twice a week), stagger home. My experience of walking (and the given exercises) is that my knees are sore while I'm doing it - and for 24 hours after - and then back to normal. 'Normal' meaning not getting any better but also not any worse. Maybe I'll lose a smidgen of weight though.

I'll let you know how well this goes. Bet you can't wait.

Charitable Choices

The other day, at the checkout in Tesco, I was given a small purple disc. What's this? Is it a bitcoin? One of those thingies that go in the trolley to make the pound coin spit out at you? A reward for good behaviour? I have no idea so I ask the checkout person [typically I would call her a checkout lady but I'm not sure women like being called ladies any more]. Apparently it's for voting which charity should be supported by Tesco this (next?) month. "How do I do that, friendly checkout person?" "You put the disc in the vote slot you see by the exit".

I've not had one of these before so it's either a new scheme or, more likely, you need to have spent more than a certain amount that day. I tend to shop frequently in small batches rather than the reverse. Anyway, I carried the disc around for a few days, because I kept forgetting to look for the voting machine. I am generally in a hurry to leave because supermarkets are ghastly places.

But today ... I remembered.

Here am I facing the machine. With camera for blog purposes. So: middle class kids learning ballet, kids gardening instead of being in the classroom or feeding a starving family. That's a choice? It's like choosing between Boris Johnson, Jeremy Corbyn and Mother Theresa.

But hang on a minute. What if the food charity is run by that woman from Kids Company? What if teaching the kids to grow vegetables means they will feed their families when they grow up (the kids not the vegetables)?

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for his life time.

(Not just men obviously. Thought I'd better say that)

What if a young ballerina/o grows up to be a star and host a Dance Aid performance which raises millions of pounds for poor kids all over the world?

It's tricky. I can't get my head round it so my mind wanders ...

Maybe we could use this system for other important votes. Like Brexit. Or the new President after the Queen dies. Boris Johnson, Nick Clegg or David Attenborough. And instead of queuing at polling booths at election time, we could all decamp to the local supermarket or corner shop and cast our vote with a purple disc. None of those party poopers asking who you voted for - they can see! No electronic voting machines, so no Russian hackers. Put a scale up the front and you wouldn't need all those polling companies. And there's only room for three choices, so no Monster Raving Loonies or idiots wearing clown costumes or funny hats. Or Farage. What's not to like?

I don't have time for the necessary research. I  cast my vote .......