Ponies for All

“Ponies for all” could lead to a large-ish slump in forecourt petrol sales with knock-on effects on the oil industry but hay and stabling costs are pretty high. Current pony purchase prices range from second-hand-old-banger to mid-priced new family car, with a few in the super-car range, so the pony-sales economy would certainly enjoy a temporary stimulus. However, the vast majority of the ponies would have to come from overseas as there are only about 1.75 million horses and ponies in the UK and a large number of those are below working age. There are also costs to muck storage and disposal, 'though there should be an increase in the availability of manure-based composts and fertilisers.

Mind you, there would be an added stimulus in the cartwright, harness, vetinary and insurance industries. And riding schools, riding- and driving-instructors should see an upturn in business. In the short term, there would be an additional rise in ‘green jobs’ as bridleways and green-lanes are returned to service although introducing ‘pony-lanes’ to the roads might be a slight problem.

All in all, it should be a positive policy for the environment and the economy and I hope that a future Government will have the foresight to introduce this radical platform of measures.

Anyone who wants magic fairies can have them anyway: just close your eyes and say, “I believe in fairies, I believe in fairies,” etc.,

 Originally written and posted, by me, as a reply to comments on this blog at Liberal Conspiracy

P.S. 

I forgot to add in farriery as a trade that would see an upturn in business. They look after barefoot ponies as well as shod ones. 

I also forgot to mention that during the Second World War there was something of a renaissance in the use of horses and ponies for riding and driving - people keep comparing current economic conditions to those of WWII, so why not encourage a similar response now? ;)

Oh! And you might need to clap for the magic fairies thing to work...

xJ

Waxing Lyrical

I’ve been slightly-off-world lately, in great part thanks to the interesting side-effects of the counter-intuitively trade-named Lyrica which continue to steal my words and give me other ones instead.

Par example:

The other day I was sitting in the sunny patch on my doorstep* directing S as to how exactly I wanted the gardening chores done when, while sipping my tea, a clever, space-saving thought struck.

"S," I said, "is there anywhere on the wall to hang my rain-barrows?"

"Your... what?" came the reply, quizzically.

"My rain-barrows. If they were hung on the wall it'd save space and clutter."

"I don't get it. What are they, again?"

"Rain Barrows!" I enunciated clearly, although at this point I was beginning to doubt that I was using the correct term and wonder what on earth might be another word for them.

"Rain-barrows?" I repeated, somewhat hesitantly, pointing at one of the rain-barrows which was perched six feet away from me on top of some empty plant-pots. "Barrows," I said, while thinking it isn't a barrow it's something, um, "for carrying rain," not rain, that doesn't come out of taps, "to spread on the..." Damn - that’s not right... My voice faltered away.

"Watering-can?" S suggested, gently, while stifling mirth...

I could only nod. And blush. And start to giggle.

I prefer ‘rain-barrow’ now. It's a much better name for the object, since I often find mine filled up with a few days'-worth of free liquid from the sky and imagine that others do. Mine would be filled by the down-pipe in the guttering sometimes if it weren't for the slight obstacle of all the drain-pipes from the flat roof of this block of flats (and the balconies) being built inside the walls and linked directly to the main drain. 

Waste of rain! Plus, ultimately, it is rain that comes out of the taps. And barrows surely don't have to have wheels...

* Don’t be daft - I was sat upon a chair. I’m not quite limber enough, these days, to sit on the step. Well, just not and get up again...

Yell...............................................ow!

An Open Letter To My Friend And To All Whom It May Concern

(Pursuant to my visit to your blog as per your request to tell you what you'd written. More accurately, to tell you whether what you'd written had appeared where you expected it.)

I thought, since I was visiting your blog, that I'd have a read of the butternut squash one 'again'. I'm sure I'd read it before. So: "Hurrah!", I thought. "This was good - I'll read it again!" 

But (and this is where I became distraught, teary and all quivery in the lower lip department) IT. IS. IN. YEL... No! I can't type it :-( 

My least favourite colour except when, in nature, it is the approved colour for members of the narcissus family, buttercups (golden, in truth) and mustard. But as a type-face colour* it is painful, confusing, impossible and just plain wrong! 

I cannot read it. It zings through my eyes, ricochets down the optic nerve, reverberating and rebounding and amplifying as it goes, heading for my brain, creating havoc as it goes into a feedback loop and deafens my letter- and word- identification system. There's a proper word for that and it involves neurons and, for all I know when faced with yel (EEK!) typefaces, neutron bombs being lobed [sic] in all directions. And the only message I get from the page I'm looking at is, "Run away! Flee! Fire! Foe!"

I run. Slam closed the book. Hit "Command, Double-U" reflexively. Turn swiftly away from the advertising hoarding. Anything but look at the colour which hurts us, precious, it burns... 

So:

PLEASE change the colour! Pink is fine. Electric Blue, ditto. Flourescent Green, even. All against a white background, naturally, Because I want to read your words, your thoughts, your rants, your outpourings, your witterings. Truly.

But please, do not confront me with anything ye**ow.

Unless it's a banana.

xxx J

*Let alone walls, carpets, furniture... indeed ANYTHING which is not a flower or a fruit or a wasp or an hornet. And NEVER the colour of oilseed-rape. Shudder.


Edit of comments at 1.05am Friday: I've taken down two comments - one from my friend Severin who has, to my great relief, kindly changed the type-face colour of his blog which is rather x-rated far  more often than not...  The second was my reply to his comment which is out of context once Severin's comment is gone. If you are adult and determined to press on and find his 'prattlings' then I've given you enough clues ;-)
sJ

A Modest Proposal: Walking a mile in disabling shoes.

This is what I hope will be the first of many blogs. I'm launching it today in support of the One Month Before Heartbreak blogswarm.

A Modest Proposal: Walking a mile in disabling shoes.

The current government are keen to reduce spending on certain allowances and benefits, the current qualification for which depends upon the claimant having impairments, disabilities, diseases or conditions of such seriousness that they are prevented from leading a “normal” life. They must face considerable challenges in such areas as washing, dressing, eating, cooking, walking, working or taking part in “everyday social activities”. If you have a temporary back-ache or a bad day/week/month at work you would certainly NOT be able to get “free money” from The State.

If you are unfortunate enough to have a seriously limiting physical and/or mental condition you are expected to complete a series of extensive, in-depth forms and provide copious amounts of evidence (from doctors, specialists, physiotherapists, counsellors, carers and/or those who provide you with physical assistance) to support your claim. You are also, in most cases,  required to attend a face-to-face “independent assessment” with an approved assessor who may or may not have any understanding of the condition which causes you problems. All these forms, the evidence you’ve provided, the evidence your own medical practioners have provided and the assessor’s conclusion then go to a “Decision Maker” who decides whether or not you fit into their interpretations of the statutory guidelines. Then you’re told whether or not you can receive payments, at what level and for how long.

If you are turned down and feel you have a strong enough case (and have the energy to fight another battle), you can then launch into the appeals process. Most people win their appeals, if they have professional representation from, for example, the Citizens’ Advice Bureau.

So, as I said at the top, this government are taking steps to increase the qualifying criteria for all benefits in respect of long-term sickness or disability. They are also planning to abolish some allowances (DLA, ILF) and replace them them with one named (Personal Independence Payments) and (perhaps) one as yet un-named allowance. I honestly don’t think that the majority of MPs are anywhere near qualified to tinker around with these things, so I’ve got a suggestion to make.

For the next year every MP, Minister and Government Advisor should be fitted with equipment which mimics the effects of a disabling condition.

One day in the next couple of weeks they should all turn up at Westminster to be issued with their disability at random. The equipment exists. I’ve seen it used in programmes on television and in films. Splints which restrict movement in particular limbs to mimic the effect of physical impairments. Special glasses to replicate various sight impairments. Ear-plugs or intentionally-badly-adjusted hearing aids for hearing impairments. Thick gloves would cover loss of sensation or dexterity. All sorts of clever tricks! Electric shock generators set to random to give a hint of how some conditions plague suffers with pain. I don’t think that there’s anything which would safely replicate the “like a cold ice-pick” or “like a red-hot knitting needle” or “a burning, tearing sensation” that some musculo-skeletal or nerve-pressure conditions treat us to. We could just use ice-picks and knitting needles... perhaps better not! And I’m not sure how you’d replicate amnesia or lack of reasoning capability. (Pick your own joke here ;-))

The rules of the “game” would also include: no simply paying someone out of your generous public salary and expenses or your private wealth to carry things, cook for you, dress you, help you move around, drive, read, write or any other “normal everyday activity”. They only get to keep a free travel-pass if they qualify for a Local Authority one already for reasons of age or existing disability. And no cheating!

If they feel their “disability” limits their mobility so much that they need a wheelchair, white-stick, walking aid, special software etc., they should check the criteria for getting a Local Health Authority issue one or aids or adaptions courtesy of the Local Authority. Then, if they find they wouldn’t qualify or would have to wait too long for the assessment, buy (or hire) a suitable equipment out of their salary which could then be returned, sold or donated at the end of their participation.

When it all gets a bit too much for them they can ask for exemption, for which they qualify by: filling in the application forms for ESA, DLA, Access to Work and also being checking to see whether their “disability” would qualify them for any support according to the rules of their local authority. They would be given the forms to fill in there and then. A random small proportion of them would be given a copy of one of the free guides published by CAB, DIAL or other relevent advice organisation but not the detailed guides that HMSO publish. They are excused from attempting to claim Independent Living Fund support because that’s been closed to new claimants since June this year.

The decisions to grant or deny their claims should be made by DWP staff in training or competency testing. I’m sure they do competency testing... don’t they? If I could make our elected representatives carry out this experiment while living entirely on randomly assigned wage levels (including minimum wage or Jobseekers Allowance) in ratios proportionate to the sources of income of the general public then I would but that would be really wandering into a dream world!

I wonder how they’d feel about abolishing benefits and allowances or restricting their availability once they had some experience of attempting to walk a mile in disabling shoes?