Time to be sociable

I hope there will be many more days like today. I’ve previously said that I’m retiring at the end of September, returning to work two days a week from the beginning of November. Well, with the holiday owing to me, Wednesday was my last day as a full-time employee. I suppose I’ll get used to it, but today felt slightly odd: a weekday when I was under no pressure to do anything. Several opportunities to be sociable presented themselves and I’m pleased to say I took them all.

Mid-morning, I ambled to the library to get some light reading for the holiday which is coming up. It was on the way back that the encounters started. Here they are.

• Met someone who I used to work with but hadn’t seen for quite a while. No hurry, so we chatted for several minutes. He’d been through the semi-retired phase I’m just beginning and had enjoyed it. Encouraging.
• Bumped into a guy who left the local Labour Party in disgust even before I did ten years ago. We hadn’t spoken in more than a decade but took this morning’s opportunity to deplore the government and generally put the world to rights. Invigorating!
• Soon after getting back, a family friend whom I hadn’t seen for a few weeks rang the door bell on the off-chance of finding someone at home. In she came for a chat over a cuppa. Good to catch up.
• One of our next-door neighbours came round to give me more detail about a serious traffic accident at the end of our road yesterday. A shocking story, but interesting to get a first-hand account from someone who was on the scene before the emergency services.
• The phone rang and it was a good friend from across the road, wanting to make arrangements for keeping an eye on each other’s houses while we’re away in the next few weeks. Another pleasant opportunity to chat and cement a friendship.
• After picking more damsons than we can use in the next couple of days, I took some to our other next-door neighbour because I know he likes them. “Do you want to come in?” I’m in no rush so, yeah, why not? Twenty minutes nattering over a coffee, by the end of which I know what his grandsons are up to and I’ve filled him in on the problems which our (and his) broadband and cable TV provider fixed yesterday. He promises eggs in return for the damsons when his daughter-in-law’s hens are laying again. Very kind of him.

As someone who has had a busy career and – when the children were at home – an exhausting family life, a day like today was unusual. Of course it often happens that there are chances to chat with people in the neighbourhood, but I’m used to passing up or limiting some of these opportunities because of the need I’ve felt to move on to the next task. Today I said “yes” to them all. I’m glad.

Don’t fall for it

News media are routinely manipulated by the government spin machine. Here are two examples from the same page of today’s Guardian. One story begins thus: “Gordon Brown is to set out proposals at the G20 this week…”  The other starts with starts with “Gordon Brown will this week announce…”

In neither instance has the prime minister yet done what is mentioned. In both cases I suspect the Guardian of simply accepting a government press release and, at most, editing it lightly. If precedent is anything to go by, there will be further stories in the paper when Brown does what has previously been trailed. Experienced journalists must realise that this game-playing gives the government at least two bites of the cherry. Yet it happens every day of the week, through most news outlets.

This matters because what comes from governments isn’t neutral. Over the years, the UK government has become steadily more proficient at spin and manipulation of the press, in an attempt to influence voters. I realise it’s difficult to resist, especially when a paper’s competitors are routinely using government handouts to appear well-informed and ‘ahead of the game’. But couldn’t the Guardian take a principled stand and only report on government statements/decisions/actions when they have actually happened?

An even more radical suggestion is for editors of national news media outlets to try to reach agreement that they won’t allow themselves to be suckered by governments in the above way. Fat chance, I guess.

The Grauniad lives. Long live the Grauniad!

The Guardian newspaper used to be known affectionately as The Grauniad because of the high number of misspellings which appeared. It’s cleaned up its act in recent years, to the disappointment of some readers. Occasionally though, it reverts to, er, type.  Look at this online ad I saw today.

The Grauniad misspells an ancient attraction

Titbit of knowledge

It was easy to identify yesterday’s visitor to our back garden: a green woodpecker. One comes occasionally and sometimes does what I expect of woodpeckers: hammering at the stump of a dead tree, gradually removing the bark. Yesterday ‘Woody’ was exploring the lawn, inserting his/her long beak in the ground and fairly obviously feeding on something.

Soon after Woody had flown away, a friend arrived. I know she’s interested in birds, so I told her about the green woodpecker and said I didn’t know what it was looking for in the lawn. Straight away she asked, “Do you have sandy soil?” Yes. “Do you have ants?” Yes. “The woodpecker is hunting for ants.”

This was a titbit of knowledge that had previously escaped me. I enjoy seeing woodpeckers, so maybe knowing more about what they eat will make me tolerate better the bugs that keep biting me out there.

Because I’m worth it

I asked for something off the bill because they made me wait. It worked even better than hoped. Maybe I’m worth more than I thought.

Here’s the background. This morning our other car – not the 16-year-old candidate for ‘scrappage‘ – went to the garage for its annual service and MoT. I didn’t have a good experience there last year, so I had grumbled and obtained a voucher for a free MoT and what looked to be a reasonably-priced service this time. That was enough, just, to tempt me back.

On leaving the car today, I was told when I could collect it. I arrived on time, but it wasn’t ready. “Sorry, sir. Please take a seat”, the receptionist said, rather mechanically. A little later, she informed me the car would be ready in about 30 minutes. Eventually the wait stretched to a tedious 50 minutes, with no free drink and only a TV with a discoloured screen to watch. By then I was feeling ill-used and suspecting that they thought my time was worthless. So when it came to paying, I was in ‘grumpy old man’ mode. I pointed out how long I had been waiting and said, “How about something off the bill?” A brief backroom consultation produced the offer of a £35 reduction. Result! If I’d been asked to suggest a figure, it would have been lower and the minimum I would have accepted was lower still. I said, neutrally, that I thought the offer a fair one, settled up and left feeling quietly pleased. They now have a satisfied customer, one who may return in 12 months.

I’m well aware of my hourly rate at work, but I now have a better idea of the price of my time on a non-work day. On today’s evidence, it’s higher than I thought. This elephant won’t forget, and I hope the one at the garage doesn’t either.

What’s your ‘going rate’ for being kept waiting? Any tips on getting it?

Identify these bird calls?

Help wanted! I’m not bad at identifying British birds when I can see them, but I’m much less competent when I can only hear them. This evening, after dark, I heard unfamiliar bird calls from the silver birch tree just outside our house. Putting my head out of the door, it was clear that there were actually two birds calling, one closer than the other. Fortunately, they hadn’t moved on by the time I got my audio recorder going. There’s an extract of the recording here. Can you satisfy my curiosity and identify the birds? Bonus points if you can identify the aircraft as well.

This month: last month

This month, September, is the last of my full-time working career. I’ve decided to retire and start drawing the pension.

It was slightly odd this morning, returning to the office after a break. Normally on such occasions, I experience a mixture of dread and excitement. What crises, cock-ups and dross will be waiting? What can I happily resume or begin? Today felt quite flat and neutral, on the journey and when I got there. It was good to see colleagues again and do the ‘how was your holiday?’ stuff, but the rest of the day was quiet and calm. My email inbox wasn’t choked and there were only a couple of small jobs that absolutely had to be done immediately. No really meaty, continued tasks and no big new enterprises either.

Why? That’s easy to explain. For several months, the end of September has been my target: have it all sorted by then. A key part of the ‘sorting’ has been not to start substantial new activities. So the job has been drying up as things are completed or handed on. There’s still work to do but, frankly, my last full-time month looks likely to be a gentle one. This is both comfortable and uncomfortable. My work ethic has been weakening recently, yet it’s far from gone. Hence the ambivalence.

Not being ready for a full-time life of leisure, I asked my employer for a new part-time contract. After a compulsory one-month gap,  I’ll be starting this at the beginning of November. We’ve identified some worthwhile responsibilities and no doubt we’ll agree a few others before I begin. Work aside, I’m looking forward to greater freedom with how I spend my days and I intend to enjoy myself more. However, I know the main risk is that I’ll let the new job take longer than I’m paid for. Contradictory message to self: relax and be firm!

Enough navel-gazing and angst for now. Time to watch some TV. But it probably won’t be long before I feel compelled to scratch the retirement itch here again. Sigh.