OMG! CLADDING FINISHED

Not a cloud on the horizon. Today’s forecast is perfect for cladding – not too hot, not too wet and not too windy. Sweet.

The sound of builder’s beavering away outside is music to my ears. I’m hopeful that today could be the day when this cladding project is finally finished but I’m tempering my enthusiasm by buggering off for a spot of tai chi to release all that pent up negative no-cladding energy. I want to see real progress by the time I get back I tell myself as I swan off up the road in tight-fitting leggings in this glorious October sunshine.

I’ve deliberately dawdled home so as not to give the impression that I’ve been all that bothered by the shenanigans of these procrastinating peeps when in fact, I’m desperate to see what they’ve been up to.

Cor! Looks like they’ve pulled out all the stops. The cladding now reaches the apex, covering every inch of wall space. Nice. In addition, a strip of trim is covering all those awful uneven board edges so everything has a tidy finish.

The cladding tide has finally come in

All that’s left to do is fit the last bit of soil pipe, refix the front guttering, clear all the rubbish off site and job’s a good ‘un. 

Soil stack completed

Bedroom window frame neatly trimmed in white

Begone lawn killer!

Was I a bit too hasty in meting out imaginary punishments before any real crime had been committed? Let’s just say I won’t be sending this lot any return invitations for afternoon tea although when all is said and done, they've done a fabulous job sprucing up this tired old wall.  You could almost say it was worth waiting for ...

As for my impatience, I’m laying the blame firmly at the door of my Spanish heritage.

Planters returned to the alleyway

PAYING EXTRA TAX VOLUNTARILY

There’s been a slew of celebrities in the media recently volunteering to pay extra taxes to help the nation. Michael Palin being the last person to publicly express this desire. Clap. Clap. Clap. I applaud these noble sentiments. If you’ve got a few extra thousand quid sloshing about then why not give it to the Tax Man? Fool!

However, since there is no mechanism in place for tax revenue to be paid into Treasury coffers that isn’t actually due then I have a better suggestion to make and that is, give this cash to deserving causes that can put the funds directly into good use.

Do you really trust the Government or The Revenue to actually spend your money wisely? I mean you’ve only got to look at what they spend our taxes on now such as continually giving it to the French to fund their beach inactivity, paying it to wind farms to switch off because the grid lacks the necessary cabling to cope with all that extra power or paying for the unemployed to have nice days out at theme parks. Not much of a philanthropic return on your tax investment in UK PLC is it?

But if you were to donate a sizeable sum of money to a charity of your choice then not only would you probably mitigate some of your own personal tax bill but the funds could be put to immediate use. No doubt there are many local good causes crying out for a chunk of money to fund things that would have a beneficial impact on a community. Michael, just ask your friends, neighbours or your PA to recommend one near you then sponsor it.

Better still, give the money to a local hospice. We might all end up needing their end-of-life care services especially now that the Assisted Dying Bill has been well and truly scuppered. Hospices are known to be under-funded and many may have established means for taking in philanthropic bequests or donations. Giving your surplus cash to these selfless institutions so that folks can be properly looked after in their final days is far more of a noble act than just handing the dosh over to HMRC.

I prefer the Michael Sheen style of philanthropy, buying up the debts of ordinary people then cancelling them entirely thus liberating them from the capitalist enslavement of financial institutions. Definitely the right idea in my book.

So, if there are any other celebs out there with money burning a hole in their pocket who want to give something back to the country then act locally rather than nationally. Do not volunteer to pay extra taxes – no-one in their right mind would EVER want to do that!

AND STILL NO END IN SIGHT

I’m on the verge of ‘bumping’ off these builders. Killing them stone dead with a ‘Right. You’re off the job’ missile.

As expected, a damp squall has blown in from the West. It’s radio silence from the errant trades. Not a peep. No apology for non-appearance. Nothing. Just the sound of a frustrated tattoo being smashed out on my laptop, keyboard glowing hot, the air blue with expletives. I don’t dare ring the builder for fear of unleashing a verbal kraken. Instead, I sit stewing, scowling out the window at the pitiful spotty raindrops.

Eventually, gathering every ounce of self-composure I can muster, I text. Polite. Respectful. No capitals. No ‘where the f*** are you?’ but a more restrained ‘I guess you’re not coming today?’ My tooth-gritting restraint must have travelled down the phone line eliciting a whiny response about working at height in windy weather. Be there tomorrow. Yeah? I’ve heard that one before.

Fast forward to lunch - tasty snackette of marmalade slathered crispbreads topped with hard-boiled egg. (Weirdo!). The doorbell rings. ‘What now?’ I mutter rudely with a gob full of half-chewed food. Hastily swallowed, I brush off my crumbed chest with a few aerobic sweeps then head for the front door. ‘Hello. You must be the abseiling plumber, licensed to scale scaffolding in a force 5. Come on in.’

No doubt a peace offering from Vlad who must have realised by now that although I may be small, inoffensive looking and make a good cuppa, I’m strictly a ‘no-nonsense’ type of gal. My pipework now beautifully teed in to the main soil waste pipe, let’s hope these peeps keep their promises to finish this cladding tomorrow.

From this

To this

Handbasin & shower overflows tee'd in to main soil stack

FLYING KITES

There’s less than a month to go to the dreaded Budget and one thing that’s noticeably absent from the tabloids this year is kites.

Flying kites. The deliberate leaking of information by the Treasury to gauge public opinion on any policy changes they may be weighing up. You didn’t really think this stuff gets into the media because some inattentive numpty accidently hit the ‘enter’ key? Nope. The Treasury knowingly lets one slip out then sits back to wait and see exactly how the public might react to whatever hellish stink has polluted the atmosphere.

This time last year the papers were full of kites but this year there seems to have been little to excite the masses into a righteous pre-budget froth. It’s worrying. It’s generally known that the quiet ones are the worst but this parliamentary silence is probably more unsettling than loads of scurrilous front-page rumours.

I imagine that Horrible Healy is playing his cards very close to his chest for his first budget because he is unlikely to be delivering any pleasant early Christmas presents. We’re all on the naughty list although if he gave everyone a lump of coal at least it may go some way to reducing energy bills. (Price cap rumoured to increase somewhere between 16% to 24% in January 2027).

The best way to deliver bad tidings is unexpectedly then people have limited or no time to react to the news.

Too many rumoured tax increases are going to send more rich folks running for those tax-haven hills, a scenario the Government are keen to avoid at all costs particularly as they’ve lined up all their ducks to further tax that super-wealthy one percent. Naturally, if there are no rich poshos left to tax then the spotlight is going to shift firmly on us ordinary peeps.

In the same way that gardeners are tending the flower borders, preparing them for that long winter sleep, we too should be weeding through our personal finances now getting them combat-ready for any fight, flight or freeze responses to whatever the Treasury has to throw at us.

I’ve already withdrawn a chunk of private pension to max out my cash ISA in case the Chancellor cuts the savings thresholds even further or increases the basic rate of income tax or savers tax. I’d rather take a 20% hit now but be ready to take advantage of any base rate rises coming after the budget. If he does increase income tax rates imagine the mad financial scramble of lemmings trying to avoid the taxation cliff edge before next April.

Don’t forget that cash ISA savings thresholds are only at £20,000 until next April after which it will drop down to £12,000 for anyone that is under 65 years old. Since cash ISA accounts are pretty much the only legitimate way for savers to shelter money from the tax man in the UK then it makes sense to squirrel away as much of your hard-earned dosh into them because my gut feel is that eventually in the dim and distant future, cash ISAs may be phased out thus forcing anyone building up a sizeable nest egg to pay savers tax.

It’s important to remember that some kites may fly but never actually get off the ground so always exercise due diligence before making any hasty financial decisions. Crunch those numbers. Ask AI. Flip a coin. Stick a finger in the air. Just be ready to act when the curtain falls on 28 October. In the meantime, keep looking out for those kites.