Ghoulish policy

Today, on Halloween, CABE (The Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment)
issued a report on the uses of cemeteries as open spaces for all, not just the dead.

The report found that up to half of all open spaces in some local authority areas were made up of burial grounds - and that this is an untapped resource.

Sarah Gaventa, director of CABE Space, said “Cemeteries should not be considered solely as resting places for the dead, they should be designed with the living in mind too. The great Victorian cemeteries were designed and maintained as beautiful public parks for the enjoyment of all. Every local authority should have them in their green space strategy and ensure that their full value is realised.”

Our nearest green space is a graveyard, and we go walking there almost every day. I occasionally see other people using the cemetery for walking (even jogging once), but it's very rare. The cemetery workers are used to seeing me now, and they certainly don't make me feel unwelcome. But I reckon a lot of people wouldn't feel entirely comfortable recreating in a place of eternal rest.

quoth the crow

give me more

Happy Halloween

feeding the crows at Wimbledon Common

Darth Saudi

The King of Saudi Arabia is on a state visit to the United Kingdom. That means Saudi flags are flying on the Mall. That means that King Abdullah is serenaded by British military bands.

Guess what they played as he strolled up to meet the Queen.

The Imperial March - aka Darth Vader's march.

Heh.

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Update

This is so unbelievable, so apt yet so daring, that I started to doubt myself. But someone else saw it, too. Here's the clip from Channel 4 news - under a story called Saudi funded literature in British mosques I wish I knew how to get that up on YouTube, but here's one to tide you over:




FURTHER UPDATE - Noon 31 October 2007

Of course it's on YouTube now - spotted via Conservative Home.

Best line is "King Abdullah may not be head of an evil empire" - but then again, he might.

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And in other sporting news...

I don't really much care for baseball. But I just want to acknowledge Jen - my expat blogger near neighbour - and her team winning the World Series. That must be amazing. That must feel like, well, like your team winning the World Series.

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I don't much care for NFL Football either. Tennessee didn't have a team when I left the US and no other team ever captured my loyalty. But apparently the NFL is looking to win hearts and minds on foreign soil. Namely British soil. In the Independent:

Rebuilt Wembley Stadium hosted the first regular-season NFL game in Europe, and fans of all teams have flocked to northwest London to see the New York Giants beat the Miami Dolphins 13-10.

But instead of drawing lots of British fans, a lot of the folks there were American.

Many in the sold-out stadium came from the United States, and the dreary sky poses no problem.

I'm sure the expat contingent in London put up a good showing, too. There's no firm estimate of how many Americans live in London, but we could probably just about fill Wembley stadium*. But the story nicely captures the feelings of a small contingent of Brits who love them some American football - all apparently hooked from catching a game on tv.

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* but not Neyland stadium.

TennViews

R Neal is the East Tennessee blogger who inspired me to start blogging. The outlet which captured my imagination is long gone, but he's set up other community blogging outlets - like KnoxViews and now TennViews.

TennViews is described as Liberal views and opinion by Tennessee Volunteers for a progessive America.

Now while I wouldn't classify myself as a progressive in a global sense and I'm disillusioned with leftists and what I perceive as a growing divide between the liberal and the left. I'm fairly right wing by British standards, but I also fully recognise that compared to most Tennesseans I'm a way-out wacky lefty. At any rate, I'm glad to see this new outlet and I hope it becomes a vibrant online community that contributes to the political conversation in Tennessee and beyond.

And, I wouldn't mind if this meant that KnoxViews was more focused on Knoxville and Knox County than the recent drift towards national politics.

Time shift

Now y'all know I love the Vols, but I love my sleep, too. And lately, with the baby's night wakenings, I'm really not getting enough. So when a night or evening game comes on, I don't listen live. With a five hour time difference between London and Knoxville, yesterday's game against South Carolina would have started after midnight here, and I really need to catch my Zs when the baby's asleep.

We turned on the game this morning - they keep the free audio up at UTSports.com for several days. I stayed away from the Internet, I didn't check any scores. I just listened as live.

But of course, it isn't live. So if things get a little boring (say with a big old lead like 21-0 at half time), then there's a temptation to switch away from the game and just check the score. But it ain't over 'til it's over - and anyway both times that I've quit listening at halftime this season, UT lost. So I couldn't stop listening.

And then things started to turn sour. Very sour. All of a sudden South Carolina were up and then it was tied. And we remembered the other thing that's made a difference. Whenever the baby hasn't been dressed in orange, UT lost. And the little guy hadn't a scrap of Tennessee orange on. The Vol-in-Law scrambled around the house looking for orange accessories, which to be honest aren't actually that hard to find.

Of course, the truth was that the game was already decided. But it's amazing, how you can get wrapped up in the moment passed.

But setting that aside with Cletus suitably dressed we appealed to the gods of football to turn back time - to reach back through the hours and change the outcome, because there was no way that Tennessee was going to pull this one out of the bag.

And in those long final minutes of sickening, growing dread that Tennessee was going to lose despite the fact that all the teams that needed to lose to keep us contenders actually had lost (Kentucky and Florida) it was tempting to turn to the score and end the pain.

And eventually my husband had to go out, so we succumbed to temptation. And you know what, Tennessee lost. Just as I suspected. And I turned to another website to get the story -and realised that I had somehow misread the score (I do blame sleep deprivation). Holy Moly, Tennessee won. All our last minute appeasements to chance had shifted time and resulted in the right score. Even the Vol-in-Law screamed in glee. (Of course, this set the baby to crying.)

Go Vols.

Bumbo cuteness

We have a little foam molded baby containment device called a Bumbo.


They've recently been "recalled" - because they're not really safe on elevated surfaces. Several babies have flipped out and fallen. Well, duh. We do use ours on elevated surfaces, largely because we're too old and crickety to really get down on the ground, plus Cletus likes to be able to look us in the eye. But you don't leave a baby unattended on a raised surface - or even on the ground - in one of these things.

But the recall isn't really a recall. All you get is a sticker saying not to use it on an elevated surface. My packaging and I think the Bumbo itself say not to use on a raised surface. But I've never been that good at following instructions.

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Some people love the bumbo, some babies don't really take to them. Our little guy really likes to be upright, so it's been a really good product for us. Plus he looks so cute in them.




But even I gotta admit, it's not as cute as these Bumbo movies.

Bumbo I
Bumbo II
Bumbo III

And unlike most series - the sequels are better. Bumbo II and III are hilarious.

Trickertreat

I'm sorry I missed this she first posted it. Here's Ms Coble's conundrum. She has some spare Bibles. I'm gathering maybe she has quite a few spare Bibles. She's wondering if she should give them out to trick-or-treaters on Halloween.

I think I would have been coolly indifferent if I'd gotten a Bible in my treat bag. I'd have been OK with it if there'd been a mini Snickers bar that came with it.

Of course, I didn't need any Bibles growing up. I had access to plenty. Candy was a rarer treat.

But it's kind of a neat idea. Giving away surplus items at Halloween. I did once give away a ray gun that I had used as a Halloween costume prop to a trick-or-treater because I had no candy. He was really excited. It's too bad we just gave dropped off a bunch of books at charity shop only yesterday. We could have left a stack by the door.

Sorry, kids - no candy. But how 'bout this unreadable and depressing tome: The Losing Battle with Islam. All out of chocolate, but here's a John Irving novel - sorry, it's not one of the better known ones. Wild Swans is good, if a bit depressing. Take this Harlequin romance, when I was 12 I found them quite exciting. You might like this pulp fiction in Spanish that I thought I could use to improve my foreign language skills but languished unloved on my shelves for years.

And if we had a mad rush, I could give away pairs of shoes I no longer like and maybe scarfs or old sweaters.

Oh yes, Halloween could take on whole new dimensions.

Sicko crosses the pond

Michael Moore's film Sicko is finally being shown in British cinemas*. I'm sure many Brits will take this as an opportunity to gloat and to bask in the reflected glory of the sacred status of the National Health Service. Apparently, Mr Moore paints an overly rosy portrait of the NHS.

Don't get me wrong. I'm like many who can say "At least it's there." I've used the service for the normal, the chest infections and the sprains. I've used it for the stupidly self-inflicted wounds (I got glass in my eye from an art project gone wrong). I've used it during my pregnancy and emergency c-section. And through all that, I've never paid a penny for services and I've paid very little for prescriptions. Although, of course, I have paid. I pay through my taxes.

I've probably experienced some of the worst of the NHS. London gets a raw deal from most national services. We really don't get what we pay for. I could complain a lot about my maternal care. I didn't have a continuous relationship with any single person on the obstetrical staff. The conditions in the post-partum ward were extremely unpleasant (lack of privacy, noisy, hot and piss-poor decor**) and I rarely saw the same professional twice. But on the upside, they supported my home birth until I passed out of their clinical guidelines (baby was 16 days late). I could have chosen another, prettier hospital. But the hospital I chose was across the street from our house and is a center of excellence for obstetrical emergencies. And, at least, it was there.

And I never had to worry about how I was going to pay or what it was going to cost.

I never had to skip appointments because I couldn't pay. I never had to negotiate a payment plan with a hospital and hope it didn't go to c-section because then I'd have a bill I couldn't afford. This happened to women on the American baby discussion forum I participate in. Some folks on this forum even now have worries about their babies' health but are putting off visits to a pediatrician because they're waiting for new insurance to kick in.

We all know that there are problems with American health care, but there are problems with the NHS, too. Just different problems. Problems which Michael Moore didn't raise: From Peter Bradshaw's review of Sicko in The Guardian.

By way of contrast, Moore visits those countries with free healthcare: Canada, France and Britain. And this last visit is the one to make us sit up. With much elaborate comedy and saucer-eyed cod-acting, Moore visits the NHS hospital of Hammersmith in London, and deploying many a gasp and double-take, refuses to believe that the sick folks aren't charged hundreds and thousands of dollars. He doesn't mention the waiting lists, the filth, the degrading mixed wards and the MRSA that are a staple of all media coverage of the National Health Service. So perhaps he's got a starry-eyed view of our healthcare.

And he goes on to suggest that maybe Mr Moore has the right idea:

But isn't it obtuse to focus so excitably on what goes wrong with our health service, when so much more routinely goes right and when, incidentally, there are those with a vested interest in promoting these scare stories as an excuse for privatising it? Isn't it, for all its faults, exactly the miracle that Michael Moore portrays it?

Actually, no. The NHS is not the miracle that Mr Moore portrays. It's a system, designed by humans. Humans with good intentions, but humans who get things wrong. Like all systems it has its flaws. And when we ignore the flaws and make the system sacrosanct then we have no chance to learn from other systems and to correct those flaws, to innovate and improve.

The same with the American healthcare system. It's not the envy of the world any more. It's inadequate and does not provide the American people what they pay for. It's the most expensive health care system in the world and it's no longer delivering the best outcomes.

But yet, there are some really good things about American health care. There are some wonderful things that need to be kept and nurtured. Americans, like the British, need to look with a clear eye to their health care, keep what's right and fix what's wrong.


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*I won't be seeing it - at least not in the cinema. I don't like the cinema and what with the baby and all, it's not really easy. But I anxiously await the DVD release.

** You can say that this matters little, but I think that people do fare better in nicer surroundings. Partly things were bad because I gave birth in June - and a new maternity ward was due to open in September.

Real names

I named lil Cletus after my grandfather, my mom's dad. He also has my surname as a second middle name and, of course, his dad's last name. Yes, it's a poncey, long-winded four moniker solution. It's a lot of name for a little guy. I couldn't not give him a second middle name though - since his middle name and his last name put together are the name of a college in Tennessee. Yep, he might have been Cletus followed by Freed Hardeman, David Lipscomb, Carson Newman, Austin Peay or Volunteer State without the clever inclusion of an additional name. I'd be looking into possible scholarships, but that would mean he'd have to go to one of those schools.

Like any expectant couple, we played the name game. Only with boys' names, there was no contest, no discussion even. I was firm on my selection. And everybody, and I mean everybody seemed happy with that. This is largely because my grandfather was a widely respected, well-liked fellow who exuded integrity and honesty and affability. On girls' names, we struggled a little. He likes girly names and I like names that conjure up images of iron maidens. For example, I really like the name Gudrun. Even though I'd never have the guts to use it, I really like it.

I have some very strict guidelines about names. It has to be a real name, in common (though perhaps not frequent) usage in English speaking countries. It should not be a faddish name - either in beginnings or endings. (Here's a great post from the Baby Name Wizard blog about trends in name endings). And I have some other pet peeves, too. Are you using a surname as a first name? That's fine - but is that a family surname? Are you actually entitled to it? I hate youneek (unique) spellings, too. I also dislike nicknames given instead of full actual names - like Will, not William on the birth certificate. Seriously, parents they don't charge more for the extra ink.

Are any of these you - or your kids? Well, sorry. Sort of. I guess. No, actually not really. And some of my own family have done these things.

On my baby discussion forum there were endless, endless polls of names - people wanting feedback on a potential baby name and then getting really upset when they got it.

Here's one:

What do you think of the name Lacey Lane Lastname? Be honest.

OK, honestly? Honestly, that sounds like a stripper name. Yep, thanks mom and dad for saving your baby from a fun night of coming up with a porn star alias.

But that's hardly the worst of it. Over at Suburban Turmoil, Lindsay (is that a family name?) has compiled a list of some the worst baby names ever. My nomination - Truly Scrumptious* - made it to the finals. But the best (worst) one in my opinion is....Crystal Meth.


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*a co-worker's friend's partner named his daughter from a previous relationship Truly Scrumptious, a character in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Who watches the watcher?

Head of UK Government Audit steps down after loads of tasty meals

Sir John Bourn, the guardian of the public purse who ran up bills of £356,000 on travel and £27,000 on meals, is to step down from the post in January, it was announced today.

This just tickles me silly.

Every two hours

Cletus was always a good sleeper. At just over a week old, he would go four, five or sometimes up to six hours at a stretch. At just over six weeks old, he was "sleeping through", going down somewhere between 8:30 and 10 pm, and waking up somewhere between 5:30 am (on a bad night) all the way up to 7 on a rare lucky morning.

Wow! I praised my lucky stars. I believed I might have stumbled on some kind of slacker method of baby control.

Of course, on the downside, Cletus was a skinny little fellow and a slow gainer.

Well, lately he seems to be chubbing up and growing and now he's waking every two hours through the night - ravenous. I'm tired.

Baby's first trip to the pub

We're baaad parents.

It was only afterwards that we noticed that his hand is actually on the pint. Don't worry, though it's not as bad as it looks. This is only a shandy - half beer and half lemonade (Brit lemonade - it's like Sprite)

This was the night of England's loss to the Springboks in the Rugby World Cup and Tennessee's unfortunate loss to the Alabama.

At least we got one thing right, notice the boy's little socks.

That bites

Man, I hate it when UT loses to Alabama. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

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We left at half time to go to a party in a pub. We took Cletus, which might have been a mistake. Folks were watching the rugby world cup finals in the pub (England v South Africa). England was looking for a second championship in a row. Emotions were high. Cheers were loud. Everytime England scored or had a chance, the pub roared and Cletus burst into tears. Maybe it was the noise, or maybe he's a budding South Africa fan.

Of course, we're raising him to support England in football - soccer and rugby, too I guess - and Tennessee in football (football). Not a good time right now.

Death threat

Wow.

Goodbye old friend

Our beloved coffee maker has given up the ghost. It's just a filter drip thing, but it has a lot of nice features that we've grown used to, that we rely on:

• spring loaded valve thingy, so you can get a cheeky half cup before the brewing cycle has completed
• removable water tank, so you can take that to the sink and back - also so you're not tempted to use the carafe which would introduce coffee to the innards of the machine
• thermos carafe - instead of the glass decanter with hot plate beneath - this means that your coffee never scorches.

It also has some other features, like a timer and strength modulator and I think you can reverse the polarity, but we don't really use those. But the ones listed above, we need them now.

The pump on the machine has packed up, it's caked with lime scale. London water is ridiculously hard, it's well 'ard. If you fink your appliances can escape unscaved, yer having a larf.

C'mon mister coffee, come and haff a go if you fink yer 'ard enough. Yeah, you and yer coffee mate.

We've had a few close calls with the coffee maker - for a couple of years we had a paint brush stuck to the bottom of the carafe with blue tack because I'd broken the spring loaded valve thingy and without the extra height We nearly gave in and got rid of it a couple of times, just because we were tired of people asking "Why do you have a paint brush stuck to the bottom of your coffee pot?". And yet we could hardly blame them for asking. But we persevered with our rigged appliance because we couldn't find a replacement. The market is saturated now with one cup encapsulated coffee makers with their expensive tied brands of coffee or cappuccino-latte frothy extraordinaire jobbies which look complicated and difficult to clean and likely to cause steam burns and I don't even like cappuccinos and lattes and poncy coffee drinks. Eventually the Vol-in-Law found, ordered and installed a part which allowed us to dispense with the brush.

But there's no such easy cure this time. I've tried some home descaling methods - I've run three and a half bottles of vinegar and two doses of oxyclean through the thing. It's improved the situation somewhat - since I've caught quite a bit of calcite grit coming through the machine, but it's still not working right.

In the mean time we've been using a coffee press, which produces unsatisfactorily small amounts of coffee which goes cold all too quickly. And on Thursday we bought a filter drip machine for such a cheap price that we can view the machine as disposable (it cost the same as two and a quarter venti Americanos). And the taste? We probably should have spent the money on the two and a quarter coffee shop coffees.

I've identified a replacement coffee maker that has all the features of our old one - plus a descaling mode, but we'd have to take a second mortgage out. But we're getting desperate. Might be time for a call to the banker.

Beat Bama

It's just a darn shame I don't know any Alabama expat bloggers. When I had the bet going with Chris for the Georgia game, it sure added a little extra sparkle. It would be fantastic to make some Bama baby in England (heck, anywhere in Europe would be fine) wear the beautiful Volunteer orange.

The best part about it was that the Vol-in-Law finally felt like he had a bit of a stake in it - given that his only son might have to wear the red and the black. For once, he listened to the game and said "we" when referring to Tennessee. He's never really seen himself as a fan - merely a Vol-in-Law.

As for Cletus, my husband knows the boy has only one option in the NCAA fandom stakes, on my side it's all UT. In the UK, universities and sports don't really go together - although Cletus will be free to support Daddy's alma mater in the annual Oxford-Cambridge boat race.

The Mysterious Mister Cletus

The Vol-in-Law is always asking the baby "Who's that mysterious Mister Cletus?"

Great Leap Backward

This morning on BBC Radio 4's Today Show, there was a feature on a Chinese family and their privations under the new economic system. The reporter told the very sad story of a family with multiple health problems and the struggle to make ends meet. They were separated by great distances and the father was working in the precarious black economy in order to keep bodies and souls together.

But the reporter kept going on about how this family were the victims of the new China, the losers in China's booming new economy.

I'm not saying that this family weren't suffering. I'm not even saying that a little bit of socialist intervention might not have made their lives a little easier (like, you know, socialised health care or universal access to good education, or even an agricultural extension agent). But let's not compare the realities of present day China with the rosy, lies of China's Maoist past.

Sure the dad might be working all the hours coming in a Chinese boomtown and Granny might be gleaning wheat from the side of the road. But in the Great Leap Forward, they wouldn't have even had that much to eat. During Mao's time there wasn't even the freedom to travel to the city of your choice to have your labor exploited. China's Communism didn't even attempt a proper welfare state - it was just grinding, totalitarian misery.