A disturbed night of several awakenings was followed by a cold morning walk to Smiths and onwards to the post office which has been reorganised, and as I discovered to accommodate two of the latest automated posting machines. I debated going to the Post Office in the morning because on Mondays the queue usually begins at the door, and today was no exception, but decided I could do with a warm before tackling the cold climb back up the hill. As I joined the queue, by the door as anticipated, I noticed there had been a reorganisation, but I did not immediately grasp how. The General Sales desk was in a different position and a small queue appeared to be buying stamps, with one letter weighed, so I enquired if the assistant would take a small package and she referred to the two new bright red automated systems and an attractive young woman offered to show me how (Most women are young to me and all attractive so I am not being sexist or selective)!
The automated system is touch screen with attachments to establish which of the two basic size/pricing systems apply, and a printed stick on payment slip, a receipt and change dispensers, appear from different parts of the machine. An additional blessing is that it does not then attempt to sell you insurance, credit cards or half price chocolate orange, the latter is at Smiths. I have commented before about this increasing aggressive tendency of management which I am sure the staff hate but are required to do.
Yesterday I received the 101 comment on my profile and the honour went to Derek an Aston Villa fan, a club I have visited half a dozen times in contrast to Birmingham City, which reflects the comparatively standing of the two clubs. Villa won the Midlands city Derby yesterday as the away team. I spent an interesting year at Birmingham University 1963 1964 but it was only later that I watched a test at Edgbaston which I used to pass on the bus on my way from the digs to the campus. I combined my last visit to Villa park with taking photos of the digs, the residential nursery where I spent the Christmas of 2004 as the only male among two or three dozen nursery nurses, although for my protection, and their honour, I slept in the Deputy Matron rooms as she was away on honeymoon rather than at the nurses home. The building looked exactly as I remembered, although now a local library. I did a critical report about the unsatisfactory nature of nurseries which inevitably institutionalised the babies, irrespective of the enthusiasm and dedication of the staff who were very young and mostly unmarried, and has most of the children had no visiting males, father's grandfathers, uncles, and several no visiting mother's or grandmothers, institutionalisation is not surprising yet what I said upset my tutor. It was over a decade before the whole idea of the residential nursery was abandoned demonstrating yet again that in relation to social provision how difficult it is to change things for the better once a system is established regardless of its effectiveness. One problem is that politics, especially local politics, used to be about getting things done and doing things differently from political opponents and not on doing things that work effectively or doing things which research has shown will make things better. It is the problem with being concerned about targets rather than the quality of the output. In the first World War thousands of men were killed because the pressure was put on increasing the volume of munitions rather than the quality.
I also visited the incongruous, then brand new grey two storey block which became home for the what was to become the first generically social work course, although for our year we undertook separate qualifications for family and child care, probation and social work is a medical setting, then hospital social workers and previous still, used to be called Almoners. Fortunately I kept all my course notes so I can now remember something of the lectures, seminars and the tutors. It was a very difficult year divided into three parts, with term time divided between academic and supervised practice involving two days a week working for Birmingham Children's Department in the first term, three day a weeks for the second which meant only two days at the university, and then in the third term I believe we only attended on campus for one day at the end, and then in the University 'holidays' we were required to undertake full time practical work, so I spent my Christmas and New Year working at the Residential nursery which enabled, Easter at the Family Rehabilitation unit although I was non resident, and then three months at Norwich Norfolk Children's Department HQ, so the course lasted twelve months with an academic examination which led to a university certificate and a professional qualification awarded on the basis of assessments from the academic year placement and the block placements awarded by the Central Home Office based Training body. All those on the course had previously taken social science qualifications involving practical work, or had experience as unqualified practitioners. There were separate two years courses for practitioners or new entrants without an academic qualification.
I also revisited the building that had provided the family rehabilitation unit. A voluntary project where evicted families were helped to get on their feet again and was where I learnt to drink tea out of a jam jar with the kettle heated on an open fire, and to call once a day to ensure the family planning pill had been taken.
The Bullring in those days was a grim, soulless place, especially on Sundays, as was the deserted campus where as an experiment the union café was opened on Sundays, midday to provide lunches for other solitary post graduates, and where on one occasion I met a student from Afghanistan in the days before the Russian invasion and all that followed. For years I kept his card safely always intending to follow up the interesting conversation we had and the new perspective he provided on my country and his.
Some memories from my time at Birmingham remain confidential, although how I nearly came to lose my place was not one of them, after the Member of Parliament for Salford, Greater Manchester who I had first met on a bus to Aldermaston used information in a private letter to him in a Housing debate which hit the headlines about Twilight zones and Rackmanism. It was unusual for a Member to refer to a situation in the constituency of another, but he was known for his interest in housing matters and went on to become Chairman of the Labour Party, and I survived to the extent that the incident for a time became the subject of an annual discussion seminar about the nature of social work and politics. I went onto to edit and produce the first 101 copies of Parliament and Social Work, well there were a few more than 101 I think, before the task was passed to another. The former Professor of Social Science at the University later was to contact me for missing copies of the of the publication while making the record history of the British Association of Social Workers who took over the publication from the Association of Child Care Officers, who in turn took over the publication from the President of the Association of Children's Officers, who as my first boss when Children's Officer of Oxfordshire County Council, asked me to read Hansard and make notes for her executive committee, and the rest they say is history. Another example of what we do and who we do it with lives on within us and them for eternity.
The second bonus of 'I no longer hate Mondays' is that I remembered to put out the recycling box just as the vehicle arrived. I was busy preparing the house for the visit of a gas engineer to service the central heating boiler and system and two gas fires, saving a few quid by deleting the cooker. I ought to have thoughts of replacing the cooker before now as the cost of the annual maintenance contract would have almost paid for the new cooker. The cost is high because included is an annual service visit
It was for a 2pm lunch and a check if there was post. No post, Carrot and Butter Bean Soup and a cheese baked roll filled with part of a red pepper and olives stuffed with pimento. I had half a stuffed chicken breast roasted with potatoes for Sunday lunch and today I converted the other half into a Sweet and Sour chicken dish with rice, with the sauce mix from a jar. For the past two years I had been buying whole chickens and using the balance to make a hot pot but always managed to get the gravy too salty and dislike two successive days of hot pot with three days of chicken. It has taken two years to work out I could do something else with the rest of the chicken. I am a slow what's it.
In addition to preparing for the visit with my work room looking bigger as well as tidy although it does mean getting on the floor under this work desk if I want books or CD's from the display shelving units behind the desk! However having got up to-date with the work I can reduce multi tasking to a few hours a day and concentrate on individual projects for the great part of the day when I am at my best, which varies according to the lateness of going to bed and the kind of night experienced. Because I was up and about yesterday the house was filled with the sound of Amy Winehouse, it is such a great record that I begin to know some of the lyrics, and of T Rex having acquired a 2 disk 40 number edition of his hit's the only CD's bought this year although I may get Leone as a Christmas present to me. This has made reflect on chart popular CD's bought over the past five years an to find that it has worked out at less than two a year. Those I listen regularly are Kate Melua's Call of the Search, Keane Hopes and Fear and Damien Rice 0. Less often Will Young's Friday's Child, Alex Parks Introduction for Here Comes the Rain, Kathryn Williams Relations for Hallelujah and Franz Ferdinand named after the man who assassination led to the Great War Apart form those given with weekend newspaper my main purchasers have been of Jazz, Dance Bands and memorabilia from the forties and fifties, Bruce Springsteen CD where I did not have the Vinyl Album, which just reflects the balance between living in the present and past.
I have ordered from Lakeland this year my Christmas treats parcel box instead of Deliscio the Spanish supplier after discovering that they supplied Spanish Hard Turron and quality marzipan products although this year I opted for quality Nougat, Fudge and Florentines. As a boy the extended family had to share the Christmas parcel from Gibraltar which included a whole Salami and Queen Olives, now available in every supermarket but which immediately after the war and for the decade after involved a trip to specialists shops in central London. We might each have two or three Pulverones whereas now I can order anytime of the year a boxful for myself. And it will arrive within a couple of days. Already TV and radio presenters are moaning about the hassle of Christmas and sorting out present buying. I know it is difficult to fit everything in but just think what it would be like if you have no one to buy anything for or no money to do so if you have? I still have an image of the fear in the eyes of Harry Potter as he gave his men the courage to go over the top knowing they were likely all die or survive with severe injuries, they were mostly eighteen and nineteen year olds. No more Christmases for them, only the frozen mud.
Yesterday I nearly saw the whole of an important film bout the complexity of tug of love situation set in a highly charged international political situation. I previously saw the second half and an ending which I did not remember, This time I had to go to the toilet and then attended to something else thinking the last interval would be longer and missed the finale. A mother and her young child take to a small boat with others to travel from Cuba the United states where they have relatives leaving the separated. divorced father and both grandmothers in Cuba and which according to this true story all had a close loving relationship with the boy. The boat is hit by a storms and the boy is discovered fixed to a tyre tube small boat where a couple of men were on a fishing trip. It emerges that the boy survived sharks and was assisted by dolphins in a miraculous escape which his mother did not . The boy is united with relatives who fall in love with him and wish to bring him up,, remembering the sacrifice his mother made that he should come to the united states . The father on earning that his son as survived seeks custody with the support of Castro and the mobilized Cuban nation. The father also has the support of the American Presidency and Castro is willing to allow the father to leave and live in the US, but father is a loyal Cuban whose family remember what life was like under the previous regime.. The relatives in Florida are supported by refugee Cubans politicians and lawyers who at first encourage them to seek publicity and then to take a low profile when the divided public opinion to swing against them. For once I failed to make a note of the name of the film or the channel, True movies mistily but when I remembered to check today it was not listed which is usually as the films on all the free film channels trend to be shown in batches, but also in but which may mean having to wait two or thee years if I remain fortunate. There was some work waiting to be completed, completed yesterday The Concert for Diana which led to finding that the DVD had just been issued and then acquiring and first viewing which I hope to do so again later this week as I switch gears. It feels like the beginning of a new chapter in life rather than a new book. The other was to sort of complete an unsatisfactory volume called Music and Voice started in the Spring after going to live music and voice concerts after four years, after going to a live recording of Any Questions at the Sage, which was my first visit to the amazing concert halls development on the Gateshead bank of the Tyne, just imagine a glass building covering the Festival complex of buildings and you get the idea. The volume is unsatisfactory because it is unbalanced with too much on the X Factor finalist concert although without which I would not have discovered Myspace, but missing on some information such as the details of the live performances at the South Shields summer festival in the parks and amphitheatre. The two outstanding local experiences were Ritchie Havens at the Sage in January and the recent appearance of Don McLean at Newcastle Civic Hall. The most important and lasting for several reasons was obviously the Diana concert although nothing will ever match up to Live Aid July 13th 1985. Listening to traditional jazz on a summer's day overlooking the Rock of Gibraltar pubis also a retained visual and audio image. Overall it works out as one experience a month although in fact there were three phases of the New Year, summer and recent, with Judy Collins at the end of the month and undecided if something is interesting enough in December before the panto season where Mickey Rooney and his wife come to the Sunderland Empire. Now that will be living history.
The automated system is touch screen with attachments to establish which of the two basic size/pricing systems apply, and a printed stick on payment slip, a receipt and change dispensers, appear from different parts of the machine. An additional blessing is that it does not then attempt to sell you insurance, credit cards or half price chocolate orange, the latter is at Smiths. I have commented before about this increasing aggressive tendency of management which I am sure the staff hate but are required to do.
Yesterday I received the 101 comment on my profile and the honour went to Derek an Aston Villa fan, a club I have visited half a dozen times in contrast to Birmingham City, which reflects the comparatively standing of the two clubs. Villa won the Midlands city Derby yesterday as the away team. I spent an interesting year at Birmingham University 1963 1964 but it was only later that I watched a test at Edgbaston which I used to pass on the bus on my way from the digs to the campus. I combined my last visit to Villa park with taking photos of the digs, the residential nursery where I spent the Christmas of 2004 as the only male among two or three dozen nursery nurses, although for my protection, and their honour, I slept in the Deputy Matron rooms as she was away on honeymoon rather than at the nurses home. The building looked exactly as I remembered, although now a local library. I did a critical report about the unsatisfactory nature of nurseries which inevitably institutionalised the babies, irrespective of the enthusiasm and dedication of the staff who were very young and mostly unmarried, and has most of the children had no visiting males, father's grandfathers, uncles, and several no visiting mother's or grandmothers, institutionalisation is not surprising yet what I said upset my tutor. It was over a decade before the whole idea of the residential nursery was abandoned demonstrating yet again that in relation to social provision how difficult it is to change things for the better once a system is established regardless of its effectiveness. One problem is that politics, especially local politics, used to be about getting things done and doing things differently from political opponents and not on doing things that work effectively or doing things which research has shown will make things better. It is the problem with being concerned about targets rather than the quality of the output. In the first World War thousands of men were killed because the pressure was put on increasing the volume of munitions rather than the quality.
I also visited the incongruous, then brand new grey two storey block which became home for the what was to become the first generically social work course, although for our year we undertook separate qualifications for family and child care, probation and social work is a medical setting, then hospital social workers and previous still, used to be called Almoners. Fortunately I kept all my course notes so I can now remember something of the lectures, seminars and the tutors. It was a very difficult year divided into three parts, with term time divided between academic and supervised practice involving two days a week working for Birmingham Children's Department in the first term, three day a weeks for the second which meant only two days at the university, and then in the third term I believe we only attended on campus for one day at the end, and then in the University 'holidays' we were required to undertake full time practical work, so I spent my Christmas and New Year working at the Residential nursery which enabled, Easter at the Family Rehabilitation unit although I was non resident, and then three months at Norwich Norfolk Children's Department HQ, so the course lasted twelve months with an academic examination which led to a university certificate and a professional qualification awarded on the basis of assessments from the academic year placement and the block placements awarded by the Central Home Office based Training body. All those on the course had previously taken social science qualifications involving practical work, or had experience as unqualified practitioners. There were separate two years courses for practitioners or new entrants without an academic qualification.
I also revisited the building that had provided the family rehabilitation unit. A voluntary project where evicted families were helped to get on their feet again and was where I learnt to drink tea out of a jam jar with the kettle heated on an open fire, and to call once a day to ensure the family planning pill had been taken.
The Bullring in those days was a grim, soulless place, especially on Sundays, as was the deserted campus where as an experiment the union café was opened on Sundays, midday to provide lunches for other solitary post graduates, and where on one occasion I met a student from Afghanistan in the days before the Russian invasion and all that followed. For years I kept his card safely always intending to follow up the interesting conversation we had and the new perspective he provided on my country and his.
Some memories from my time at Birmingham remain confidential, although how I nearly came to lose my place was not one of them, after the Member of Parliament for Salford, Greater Manchester who I had first met on a bus to Aldermaston used information in a private letter to him in a Housing debate which hit the headlines about Twilight zones and Rackmanism. It was unusual for a Member to refer to a situation in the constituency of another, but he was known for his interest in housing matters and went on to become Chairman of the Labour Party, and I survived to the extent that the incident for a time became the subject of an annual discussion seminar about the nature of social work and politics. I went onto to edit and produce the first 101 copies of Parliament and Social Work, well there were a few more than 101 I think, before the task was passed to another. The former Professor of Social Science at the University later was to contact me for missing copies of the of the publication while making the record history of the British Association of Social Workers who took over the publication from the Association of Child Care Officers, who in turn took over the publication from the President of the Association of Children's Officers, who as my first boss when Children's Officer of Oxfordshire County Council, asked me to read Hansard and make notes for her executive committee, and the rest they say is history. Another example of what we do and who we do it with lives on within us and them for eternity.
The second bonus of 'I no longer hate Mondays' is that I remembered to put out the recycling box just as the vehicle arrived. I was busy preparing the house for the visit of a gas engineer to service the central heating boiler and system and two gas fires, saving a few quid by deleting the cooker. I ought to have thoughts of replacing the cooker before now as the cost of the annual maintenance contract would have almost paid for the new cooker. The cost is high because included is an annual service visit
It was for a 2pm lunch and a check if there was post. No post, Carrot and Butter Bean Soup and a cheese baked roll filled with part of a red pepper and olives stuffed with pimento. I had half a stuffed chicken breast roasted with potatoes for Sunday lunch and today I converted the other half into a Sweet and Sour chicken dish with rice, with the sauce mix from a jar. For the past two years I had been buying whole chickens and using the balance to make a hot pot but always managed to get the gravy too salty and dislike two successive days of hot pot with three days of chicken. It has taken two years to work out I could do something else with the rest of the chicken. I am a slow what's it.
In addition to preparing for the visit with my work room looking bigger as well as tidy although it does mean getting on the floor under this work desk if I want books or CD's from the display shelving units behind the desk! However having got up to-date with the work I can reduce multi tasking to a few hours a day and concentrate on individual projects for the great part of the day when I am at my best, which varies according to the lateness of going to bed and the kind of night experienced. Because I was up and about yesterday the house was filled with the sound of Amy Winehouse, it is such a great record that I begin to know some of the lyrics, and of T Rex having acquired a 2 disk 40 number edition of his hit's the only CD's bought this year although I may get Leone as a Christmas present to me. This has made reflect on chart popular CD's bought over the past five years an to find that it has worked out at less than two a year. Those I listen regularly are Kate Melua's Call of the Search, Keane Hopes and Fear and Damien Rice 0. Less often Will Young's Friday's Child, Alex Parks Introduction for Here Comes the Rain, Kathryn Williams Relations for Hallelujah and Franz Ferdinand named after the man who assassination led to the Great War Apart form those given with weekend newspaper my main purchasers have been of Jazz, Dance Bands and memorabilia from the forties and fifties, Bruce Springsteen CD where I did not have the Vinyl Album, which just reflects the balance between living in the present and past.
I have ordered from Lakeland this year my Christmas treats parcel box instead of Deliscio the Spanish supplier after discovering that they supplied Spanish Hard Turron and quality marzipan products although this year I opted for quality Nougat, Fudge and Florentines. As a boy the extended family had to share the Christmas parcel from Gibraltar which included a whole Salami and Queen Olives, now available in every supermarket but which immediately after the war and for the decade after involved a trip to specialists shops in central London. We might each have two or three Pulverones whereas now I can order anytime of the year a boxful for myself. And it will arrive within a couple of days. Already TV and radio presenters are moaning about the hassle of Christmas and sorting out present buying. I know it is difficult to fit everything in but just think what it would be like if you have no one to buy anything for or no money to do so if you have? I still have an image of the fear in the eyes of Harry Potter as he gave his men the courage to go over the top knowing they were likely all die or survive with severe injuries, they were mostly eighteen and nineteen year olds. No more Christmases for them, only the frozen mud.
Yesterday I nearly saw the whole of an important film bout the complexity of tug of love situation set in a highly charged international political situation. I previously saw the second half and an ending which I did not remember, This time I had to go to the toilet and then attended to something else thinking the last interval would be longer and missed the finale. A mother and her young child take to a small boat with others to travel from Cuba the United states where they have relatives leaving the separated. divorced father and both grandmothers in Cuba and which according to this true story all had a close loving relationship with the boy. The boat is hit by a storms and the boy is discovered fixed to a tyre tube small boat where a couple of men were on a fishing trip. It emerges that the boy survived sharks and was assisted by dolphins in a miraculous escape which his mother did not . The boy is united with relatives who fall in love with him and wish to bring him up,, remembering the sacrifice his mother made that he should come to the united states . The father on earning that his son as survived seeks custody with the support of Castro and the mobilized Cuban nation. The father also has the support of the American Presidency and Castro is willing to allow the father to leave and live in the US, but father is a loyal Cuban whose family remember what life was like under the previous regime.. The relatives in Florida are supported by refugee Cubans politicians and lawyers who at first encourage them to seek publicity and then to take a low profile when the divided public opinion to swing against them. For once I failed to make a note of the name of the film or the channel, True movies mistily but when I remembered to check today it was not listed which is usually as the films on all the free film channels trend to be shown in batches, but also in but which may mean having to wait two or thee years if I remain fortunate. There was some work waiting to be completed, completed yesterday The Concert for Diana which led to finding that the DVD had just been issued and then acquiring and first viewing which I hope to do so again later this week as I switch gears. It feels like the beginning of a new chapter in life rather than a new book. The other was to sort of complete an unsatisfactory volume called Music and Voice started in the Spring after going to live music and voice concerts after four years, after going to a live recording of Any Questions at the Sage, which was my first visit to the amazing concert halls development on the Gateshead bank of the Tyne, just imagine a glass building covering the Festival complex of buildings and you get the idea. The volume is unsatisfactory because it is unbalanced with too much on the X Factor finalist concert although without which I would not have discovered Myspace, but missing on some information such as the details of the live performances at the South Shields summer festival in the parks and amphitheatre. The two outstanding local experiences were Ritchie Havens at the Sage in January and the recent appearance of Don McLean at Newcastle Civic Hall. The most important and lasting for several reasons was obviously the Diana concert although nothing will ever match up to Live Aid July 13th 1985. Listening to traditional jazz on a summer's day overlooking the Rock of Gibraltar pubis also a retained visual and audio image. Overall it works out as one experience a month although in fact there were three phases of the New Year, summer and recent, with Judy Collins at the end of the month and undecided if something is interesting enough in December before the panto season where Mickey Rooney and his wife come to the Sunderland Empire. Now that will be living history.
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