Walk In My Shoes

Can you spot the customer care failure in this photo ?     no, not that the counter is too high, it needs to be that height for you biped people.   there's nobody to greet the gentleman ?  no, even receptionists need to pee sometimes.   can't you see it ?  THERE'S A BLOODY GREAT BOX   BLOCKING  THE WHEELCHAIR LEVEL SECTION.   you see it now don't you?   if you spotted it i congratulate you, not many would even think of it being a problem.

Try this photo.........

now, isn't that better.... no i don't mean the nativity set, though that is a nice touch.   us of the Limited Mobility Movement like the concept of "our" bit of counter being as wide as "theirs".

Would you feel it acceptable to approach every shop counter, reception, airport check-in,  pharmacy pick-up, even some hospital sign-in desks, on your knees and have to reach on tippy toes to use the pin machine or even be seen??  would you ??  can you begin to imagine how it feels to sit in your chariot with fingertips holding onto the edge of a ledge waving.... yes !! WAVING !! to attract  attention?   oh the shame, the shame.   oh no, not MY shame, the shame of businesses in the 21st century failing to understand how it feels to be thus diminished when accessing essential services.   click the link below to read how it felt for Kiruna of East Enders,  and know that it's a regular occurrence for many of us who don't fit the 5ft plus 2 feet on ground mould.

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/dec/13/eastenders-dwarfism-post-office-kiruna-stamell-disability-discrimination

Perhaps business leaders, and those who work for them, would benefit from a day strapped  into a wheelchair, not allowed out for any reason including comfort stops and ablutions.    i would leave them to navigate round a hypermarket  with a list of items, from the top and bottom shelves, to be purchased.   they would have to track down  the lift, following signs obscured by high shelving, only to discover the call button at 4ft level,  and once inside discover the button for the top floor is......right at the top !!  

They would have to run the gauntlet of shoppers annoyed by the fact that a wheelchair takes up a lot of space when the aisles are blocked by the huge cages used to re-stock shelves.   On their list of items to be purchased would be bread from the bakery  and cheese from the deli  and  fresh meat from the butcher and fish, and, and, and..... oh every high  shelf i  could find.

I would lurk behind an advertising stand to watch as they tried to manoeuvre through the narrow space between check-outs and reach the conveyer with a basket full of groceries as the assistant tapped her fingers and rolled her eyes to heaven at their uncoordinated attempts to lift the basket and deposit it safely without it tipping,  because they are too low down.   

Finally, as the piece-de-resistance, i would set off the fire alarms!!!!  do you know how hard it is to see exit signs when your eyes are at knee level?   try it........i challenge you.   

Or maybe, because i'm a merciful soul, i would spare them all that embarrassment and distress and simply suggest they read the article below.   as they say.........you need to walk a mile in a person's shoes etc etc.....

http://disabilityhorizons.com/2015/05/are-people-being-treated-differently-when-they-dont-fit-the-picture/?utm_source=Disability+Horizons+RSS-Email&utm_campaign=9c43fb0d3e-RSS_EMAIL_CAMPAIGN&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_75cf3532a8-9c43fb0d3e-300277321

Tutorial On The Wonders of Blogspot

Isn't technology wonderful ?........isn't it ?.........umm hello ???.......say, "yes jeni, technology is wonderful"...........oh come on, sound as though you mean it.........you wouldn't be reading these scintillating words from the depths of the jeni universe without it.........ok, have it your own way........ I think technology is absolutely amazing.   For those of us condemned to spend too much time in the containment bubble called home the internet can open windows onto the world.   where, once, we strode amongst the stars at will, embracing all that life offered,  it could  feel stifling without this outlet.     

So, in the spirit of enlightenment  i would ask my more computer literate friends to be patient while i answer a couple of techie questions some of my readers have  asked about using this site.   hopefully the peculiarities of google wont blow your mind.

 

For those who would like to receive an email whenever i write  something new, have a look at the top right of this page and you'll see "follow by email".    if you type your email address in the box underneath and press submit.........hey presto.........you are safely in my subscriber list.   you wont get junk mail from google.........just notifications from me......simples!

Next tutorial by request from my lovely friend Val who would be keen to read comments from other people.     val and i shared various flats in Bath when we were about 17 ish ???  and this blog has put us back together again.    i THINK this was one of the houses we lived in........am i right val ?

To make a comment follow these easy peasy, lemon squeazy  steps:

at the bottom of the page you'll see a pencil with how ever many comments have been made  OR  "no comments".    click on "comments"  OR  "no comments".    (not logical i know.  it should say "comment" cos you want to write a comment !!  take it up with google)

a box will open up with "enter your comment"   so type your words of wisdom in  the box.   

underneath the box  you'll  see "comment as"  with a little arrow.    click on the arrow and a list of choices will drop down, choose  "Anonymous".    

then click on the blue "publish" and you should be all honky dory.

if you want people to know who you are just sign your comment with your name.   you can have conversations with others and respond to their comments.    you might make friends with my friends cos my friends are very fine people.

your comment wont show up straight away as it gets sent to me to give the go ahead.    that's to stop strangers putting nasty comments just to be.........well,  nasty !!  sad, i know, but true.    the internet has the down side that it gives anonymity to those who just want to trash anything good.

Finally, i have started a Facebook page........i know, i know........consorting with the dark side.   

That's all folks.    get commenting if you'd like to and thank you for indulging me.

A Salute to the Brave

Sometimes people say to me,  "you are so brave" when they discover how damaged my spine,  is and how much it hurts.   my response is always the same  "no, not brave.    stubborn?  yes.    bloody minded?  yes.   accustomed? yes.   unheeding? yes.   impervious? yes.   brave?........no........definitely no".

Bravery is another beast altogether and i truly don't know how i would act if ever i had to face a situation that calls for it.    in the past, righteous anger has impelled me to take a stand in a risky situation and i can honestly say i really didn't like the pounding heart rate, clammy hands, nausea that followed.   living with pain and the accompanying restrictions that disability bring cannot be classed as bravery for one simple reason.......it's unsought. 

True bravery is seen in the actions of the chinese student who stood in front of tanks, moving left and right to match them as they tried to move round him, knowing that many of his peers had died, been beaten, and disappeared into custody following the Tiananmen Square protest the previous day.   

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tank_Man

True bravery was shown by Mother Maria who was killed at Ravensbruck concentration camp in the second world war when she took the place of a Jewish mother to save her from the gas chamber.

https://uk.pinterest.com/jvillage/righteous-among-the-nations/ 

True bravery is shown every day by the many who risk their lives to save others.   those who  undergo painful medical procedures to donate bone marrow or organs to a sick loved one.   by our rescue service men and women who go into burning buildings, sail on stormy seas, face down hostile crowds.   by those who risk persecution and death for their faith, for their politics, for freedom.   they know what they are walking into and make a decision not to turn away.

Pain and disability are imposed on a person so there's no bravery involved, as no choice has been made.  given an option i definitely would not choose these limitations and sleepless nights.   by nature i would always choose satin over sackcloth,  pleasure over pain.    by nature i'm a confirmed wimp,  a committed  wuss.   by nature a tabby not a tiger.   

Brave?...... .. no.........honest ?........hopefully.

The Wisdom of Solomon

Sometimes those whose task it is to uphold our labyrinthian laws have all my sympathy.    how to keep a rational head on the shoulders  is something i think  would drastically increase the proportion of grey to henna in the jeni frizzy hair if the decisions were mine to make.    i mean, imagine having to find  a response to this dilemma faced by the monarch of a Middle Eastern country a few thousand years ago:

Mr Monarch finished his breakfast of peacock eggs and toasted soldiers.......that's the bread sort not the machine gun toting sort........and headed for his kingly chair, premium Ikea imported that very season.   settling down and hoping for a quiet morning judging he had just finished a long, silent eggy belch when an almighty.......small a, not CAPITAL A He came into the original story at an earlier  date......kerfuffle broke out at the back of the courtroom.   

Two distraught young ladies bickered their way to the front each holding a small baby.    one breathing........one not.    the tragic story poured out of them of sharing a labour ward and each delivering a healthy infant called Charlotte........i know, predictable but it's late and there is a sort of royal theme to the story, and  it  IS a pretty name.......   When they woke in the morning one of the babies was deceased.     Now, our labour ward........that's baby labour ward not political district Labour Ward....... hadn't really got to grips with health and safety and had failed to attach name bands to the babies........you couldn't get  good quality staff in those days.   both of our mums were claiming the surviving baby  was theirs.

All eyes turned to our king, it was his task to pass  judgement and decide which one was to go home with a living infant.    no adjourning to a future date or passing the buck to a jury, no CSI.......his was the final word.

Our Mr Wise King  called for a sword........no not ISIL, wrong tribe.......and ordered the baby  be chopped in two so the mums could have half each.    pseudo mum nodded assent and asked for the top part not the smelly part.    truedo mum declared  "no way kingo dude,  i'd rather she took him alive than see him felled like a young oak"......or something like that.   of course real mum went home vindicated with her baby and we gained the saying "the wisdom of Solomon".

Now, fast forward several thousand years to last week and read the link below for our very own 21st century Solomon.......though we have judges who take turns in making the hard choices not kings.  spreading the load must make it easier to sleep at night.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/may/14/pursuit-barkers-modern-britain-tesco-compassion-judge

Isn't it heartening to know that in this time of psycho babble and un-understandable  judgements that come out of our courts there are some who can cut through the crap and show some humanity and common sense.    

   

The Twisty Turny Path of Time

I find the longer my sojourn on this spinning orb of water and rock the more friends are gathered along the way.   everybody needs a hobby and i collect humans.   so,  not  simply  the  "crazy cat lady" but also the "crazy people person".........though it has to be admitted that cats are far cuter and much funnier on video.

Can you remember the name of the kiddlie who most often sat next to you in primary school?   or your "very bestest fwend ever"?   how about the the muppet who was your  " very bestest fwend ever"  the next week ??   or the next ??   there are some who can remember the names of those they were at nursery with !!!    now that really does freak me out as i don't remember anybody before age 15.   

When i look on Friends Reunited there isn't a single name i recognise and the few people of my year i've  messaged don't remember me either.    of course  you  know my theory  don't you?......... i'm actually an alien......    the mother ship left me here to improve and will come back once they think i've  ceased to be a disruptive influence.......ok.......it's probably that my generation are less likely to be computer literate........but that's boring.

Throughout  adulthood there have been  friends who have  moved on,  or i've had a bout of gypsy feet and left them behind.    some i  still miss and regret not making an effort to keep the connection,  some were probably best left  and forgotten,  and others i don't even remember to forget.......or should that be forget to remember........i can't remember.

Occasionally though there are those special faces who leave for a while......sometimes a long while.........and then life takes one of those strange twisty, twirly,  turns and they re-appear,  and that twist becomes a time warp,  and the time warp becomes a grand reunion,  and the grand reunion steps back onto the conveyer belt of time and it's like those years between had never passed and you had shared this universe without ceasing.   

 

Some of you who share this blog are my time traveling friends and i want you to know how very, very glad i am that we found each other and then re-found each other again,  even though many miles might lie between us now.   somehow i can't help feeling that wherever and whenever  life leads,  our paths will intersect.

I'll Huff and I'll Puff and I'll Blow Your House Down

 

Now my self imposed political purdah is officially over and we know the apocalypse will be upon us before the end of the next five years,  perhaps you would indulge while i break my fast with  a subject close to my heart.

Many children  born in the early 1950's entered the world  dragging  a package of poverty behind them in those post-war years.   my parents and sister shared a three bedroom house with a  grandmother,  an aunt and uncle,  a single uncle and a  guide dog.   six adults,  two children,  one large  dog,  three  bedrooms.   do the math !!

It wasn't until i was born that they were declared officially overcrowded.    my joyful appearance meant they qualified for one of the shiny, new council  houses  that had started sprouting up on every inch of wasteland.    the houses had big rooms with lots of window  and  a garden that went on forever.  it was the beginning of social housing estates with the catchphrase "a home for everyone".    i lived in that house and sun bathed in that garden till i was 16,  understanding that in his lifetime  my  father, a self employed builder,  wouldn't earn a fraction of the amount needed to buy a property and that a caring government had provided us with a home for life at a fair and affordable rent.    that house is now in private hands with an estimated value of £214,000.    do the math  !!

                                 

The  quote attributed to Mrs Thatcher that "a man over the age of 26 on a bus can count himself a failure"  may be mis-attributed,  it certainly can't be found in writing anywhere, but it sums up an attitude that became prevalent during her reign, possession equals success, support equals failure and social housing paves the way to Hades.    only.......we didn't end up in the land of the damned.....my parents lived on the same street until their late 80's, my sister has been  in a large bright council flat in a different part of Bournemouth for four decades and i'm in a lovely little Housing Association Supported Housing cul-de-sac in Hexham.   look at it......not all hell and high water is it?

Why am i seething?   because, in it's nasty party, flog the lot  little mindset, our esteemed new government wants to sell off  housing association properties to tenants at huge discounts, in the same way as it has council housing, even though it's own ex-housing minister has said  "it could affect the future provision of affordable housing". 

   
http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/apr/18/tory-cameron-hopkins-right-to-buy-home-sales-housing-association

Now i wouldn't have a problem with this if the proceeds of this sell off were used to finance the building of replacement social housing.    if someone has paid rent for years it's understandable they would want to buy if they could afford,  but if the past holds any clues to the future this wont happen.   for every 21 council houses sold only one is built and that's one reason there are nearly 2 million people on waiting lists.    do the math  !!!

The other iniquity in all this is the evidence that 36% of houses bought from councils are being  re-let on the private market.   so, a low rent council  house is bought at a knock down price by the tenant,  he sits on it for a while then lets it out at full market rent often double what he was paying, he uses that rent to cover a mortgage for himself.  the new tenant of our ex-council house claims housing benefit  and  the council is hit by a double whammy.  do the math !!!     read the article below from The Independent to get the full picture

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/great-council-house-selloff-scandal-righttobuy-council-houses-leave-nowhere-for-poor-to-live-9832339.html

Social housing will continue to be essential as we will always have the underpaid.   on a minimum wage of £6.70 an hour it's impossible to dream of home owning let alone home maintaining.   do the math !!

If the roof flies off my flat in the middle of the night the state pension wouldn't even cover the call out fee for a roofer.   having lived in the private rented sector i know first hand the insecurity of living month by month wondering if a lease will be renewed, that's no way for anyone to live especially those with children.   we sell off our social housing at the risk of a huge increase in homelessness and slum landlords.   if you see a petition about this please sign it and keep a roof over the heads of those who need it.

Rant over for another few posts........thanks for listening.

 

Oh Be Careful Little Mind What You Think

 Wotta-mistaka-to-maka, !!!       misunderstanding on a nuclear scale  !!!

What i wrote in the note was 

"Goodbye,  i hope you are happy now you are back in your beloved village."

                                              what i meant was

"Goodbye, i hope you are happy now you are back in your much loved village."

                                            what she read was

GOODBYE,  i hope you are happy NOW!  back in your precious village"

Isn't language a mine-field, especially when it's written rather than spoken.    our humanity has this nasty trick of hearing what we THINK a person intends and,  if by nature we aren't one of the earth's sunnier souls, like the recipient of my well intentioned moving home card, it's too easy to perceive the intention as criticism  rather than kindly.   There probably wasn't anything i could have written that would have conveyed warm future  wishes  in a manner that wasn't fraught with possible double entendre but it would, also, have been seen as a crime against humanity if i hadn't tried.

Of course, it doesn't help if you are cursed with an idiosyncratic turn of phrase.     i blame my mother, as people say i speak just like her,  and you can't live with someone for 16 years without picking up a style or two along the way.   she would have enjoyed swearing in Russian too, in fact she was half way there as she used Russian names when invective was required.    you have to admit there's something deeply satisfying in spitting Vladimir Ashkhenazi or Vladivostok.......try typing it without hammering the keys......impossibles !!

Anyway.......if there's a moral to my tale of woeful miscommunication  it's multi faceted........first of all,  the world isn't out to get you, and even if it is,  don't  succumb to  the temptation of  letting on that  success is  in sight.

Secondly, hold before you the old children's song "Oh be careful little hands/feet/mind    what/where/how   you  do/go/think."  do you remember it?   the pure simplicity of sentiment would silence the most philosophical  of philosophers.    out of the mouths of babes and infants shall come forth the wisdom of the ages.......along with an annoyingly unforgettable melody that takes up board and lodging at the back of the cerebellum and keeps you awake all week.

Thirdly,  if you find yourself putting nefarious motives on to things others say it might be worth asking where that comes from?    is it possible the suspicion and negativity come from the way YOU respond to others and you are simply seeing a reflection of yourself?     not very attractive is it?