TESTING - ONE, TWO, THREE

Speed limits in force for system testing. 

Testing a motorist’s patience is more like it!

For the past 5 years, journeys from east to west (and vice versa) along the M27 have been plagued with seemingly never-ending roadworks in a bid to turn this innocuous stretch of tarmac into a ‘smart’ motorway.

In that time political parties have come and gone yet the project has still NOT been fully completed although we were all promised it would be by Spring 2026. Not that I’m an impatient driver or anything but just how much longer is it going to take? Temporary average speed cameras, signage and other road-working paraphernalia still clutter the verges and as if this wasn’t bad enough, now there’s the system testing.

System testing that’s taking longer than the Hundred Years war. Just how long does it take to test if a motorway is smart? Or rather my question is, when will the 50 mph temporary speed limit be lifted?

According to a recent news report, 50 will now continue to be the new black until the end of June.

Cynically, I’m wondering if this subterfuge of testing the system is a precursor to a mandatory reduction of overall speed limits between junctions 3 and 12 which is where most of the traffic bottlenecks occur during the rush hour. Bloody obvious, isn’t it! Don’t think I didn’t notice that the odd stretch now and again at a lower speed has now become one long continuous reduction pretty much from Rownhams to Portsmouth. Sneaky, sneaky. I may be 63 but nothing wrong with my eyesight (yet).

The chimps working in the National Highways basement clearly think it’s a smart thing for cars to go a lot slower particularly where slip roads are involved because that’s usually where prangs occur.

Why? Largely the result of drivers not slowing down for traffic merging from the left or those who are joining the motorway not bothering to indicate or erratically pulling straight out in front of you. Plus, you’ve got to account for ditherers. If you’re going to merge then do it. Don’t wait for an invitation, just indicate then smoothly join in with the rest of the traffic. That’s the spirit.

What National Highways haven’t taken into consideration is whilst this motorway may be deemed ‘smart’ those behind the wheel often aren’t. There have been times I’ve seen driving antics on this stretch of road that would make your hair curl!

Distance from Chichester to Bournemouth is roughly 64 miles. With no traffic holdups and travelling at a speed of 70 mph, it should take about an hour to complete this distance. Prior to M27 roadworks, I’d do this journey in around 50-60 minutes.

Travelling the same distance at a speed of 50 mph, journey time can be anything between 1 hr 30 to 2 hours depending on time of day and volumes of traffic.

I do hope that when all this system testing is finished, normal 70 mph service can be resumed but no doubt by then a new set of roadworks will kick off and we’ll all be back to square one.

MOBILE SMOKE SIGNALS

One thing that’s not very good about Chichester is its mobile phone signal. In the city centre, it’s honestly quite non-existent or at best, shite.

Should you be wandering round the pedestrian precinct and need to get an urgent message to someone then I’d suggest using a carrier pigeon or smoke signals. Plenty of birds around the Cathedral although a few do get picked off now and then by the resident peregrine falcons nesting high up near the spire. Mobile phone signal? Forget it.

Word on the street is that this woeful telecommunications limbo is largely due to either the Church or the landed gentry (collectively, I shall call our neighbouring peers The Lord Snootys) because neither of these factions want mobile masts in the city centre.

‘It’s a conservation area, don’t you know’ seems to be the most common refrain when this subject crops up in the local papers. 

Conserving a Stone-age mentality instead of fostering the Fone Age we live in today. I know I’m a bit of a techno-dino myself but I do appreciate at least four bars of signal on my ancient Nokia instead of the pathetic trickle of network coverage achieved as soon as I step out of my front door.

Not only are local punters at a disadvantage but so too are the local businesses that operate in the middle of Chi. Lack of signal especially WIFI means that there are often times when cash registers fail to operate or card machines remain as dead as a dodo.

Cash is king. If you happen to be visiting Chichester for a nice day out of shopping then don’t forget to bring some hard readies with you just in case there’s a network outage.

If you want 4G, 5G or in fact any Gs at all then might I suggest one of those new-fangled satellite phones being widely advertised by O2. With a bit of luck, your signal might ping straight back from outer space enabling you to pay for parking at one of the city’s many cashless pay machines or settle your bill for a tasty snack in the myriad of cafes that unlike mobile masts abound in the city centre.

So, to remedy this situation who do I email first – The Pope or The Lord Snootys? No point asking our local MP as being a lily liberal, she’s wetter than a duck’s arse and reckons she’s done all she can to make things better. Which in reality means she’s probably done sod all!

Months ago, I actually emailed this very same MP in response to a consultation being run by our local council that asked residents what they thought the city’s priorities should be. I’m still waiting for a response to my enquiry about how telecommunication links should be boosted in this area.

As life in general revolves around a million and one phone APPS then it’s about time Local or Central Government decreed that telecommunications MUST BE top of everyone’s agenda regardless of whether you’re the Archbishop of Canterbury or descended from a dukedom.

In fact, I feel that mobile masts should be made a compulsory addition to all planning proposals for any new housing developments rather like putting in an electrical substation to assist in the transmission of energy in suburban areas. If the Government are going to force more housing onto the local community then let’s have the technological infrastructure to go with it.

Conservation areas are great in preserving the olde-worlde architectural heritage of Britain’s quaint towns or villages but surely not to the detriment of other aspects of modern life. As I'm sure I've said many a time on this blog, mobile phone masts could be positioned discreetly next to trees or camouflaged in some way to blend in with the surrounding area.  I’m certain Chichester isn’t the only conservation area in the whole kingdom that’s had to deal with this very situation. The reluctance to bring about telecoms improvement is beyond belief.

Centuries ago, the Church or Feudal Lords would have thrown their weight about in this manner to deny the peasants access to anything that might have made their downtrodden lives remotely better. I thought we’d moved on from those times but in Chichester, clearly not.

BLUE BADGER

Lord knows I try to be patient. And pleasant. After all, it isn’t their fault the pair of them have to share one brain cell between two people.  Maintaining a calm demeanour is not an easy task in the face of the administrative adversity which I encountered earlier today at my parents GP surgery.

Medical receptionists are a modern-day Medusa in my book. Most could turn you to stone with just a raised eyebrow. Not that I blame them because they’ve been assigned that most difficult of all roles - gatekeepers to health services which as we all know are not really interested in the welfare of their patients.

A chance encounter with Age UK at my local sports centre set me off on a path to obtain a Blue Badge disabled parking permit that I might be able to use when ferrying my elderly mother to and from her hospital appointments.

Mother, now approaching her 90th year, has lost the ability to walk any great distance. Her gait resembling a hot shoe shuffle rather than a striding step means that even the shortest journeys can seem like an epic quest worthy of Hobbits. Add to that mix an addled brain plus eyesight that’s one pup short of a guide dog, you can begin to understand why I thought a Blue Badge might have been the answer to my parking prayers.

Blue Badge? I’m beginning to realise it would be easier to get hold of a blue badger than one of these permits.

After a lengthy phone call with the local council to request a paper application form to kick start the process, it became clear that navigating the bureaucratic Blue Badge labyrinth was not going to be as easy as the tabloids make out because dearest mother is neither registered disabled nor claims any welfare benefits. These two trump cards unlock the magic parking portal. Blue Badge nirvana.

For those mere mortals not fortunate enough to fall into these two categories, an evidence-based application process must be pursued.

Exhibit 1, your Honour, a certificate of visual impairment. Exhibit 2 – medical evidence of mobility or other health related issues. Hang on, where’s Exhibit 2? Summon the general practitioner to the witness stand.

And so, I find myself standing in the dock at the doctor’s surgery with my carefully curated ‘evidence’ pack to ask for medical evidence to support my Blue Badge application. Enter Medusa.

I set out my opening statement in a respectful and friendly tone:

‘Hello (smile). I emailed a few weeks ago regarding a Blue Badge application and was told to bring my form to the surgery so you could help me pull it together.’

‘WE DON’T DO THAT HERE.’ snapped the super-officious mythical monster.

‘But I need medical evidence to confirm mum’s mobility issues.’ I tentatively ventured instantly realising I should have called Rumpole of the Bailey to handle my case rather than represent myself.

‘Well, we don’t do that.’ She insisted rather authoritatively as if I’d dared to ask her to pop a leech onto my chest in a bid to rid me of this hacking cough that’s set up a blockade of the lungs in Trumpian fashion.

‘Can’t I get a letter or something from the doctor to include with my form?’ I persisted.

‘I’ll ask but the doctor won’t normally do that.’ She growled almost relenting but not quite ready to give up her bone.

‘Okay. How about I leave my evidence pack with you to show one of your colleagues? If you really can’t help then I’ll come back to collect it later.’ My closing argument as I stop myself reaching into my handbag for a compact mirror so I can turn her to stone with her own reflection.

I appreciate there are blaggers out there who have somehow miraculously managed to bagsie a Blue Badge purely because they are too idle to walk a few steps to the supermarket and now local authorities have to tighten the screws.

Here’s what Doctor Google has to say about these things:

Blue Badge parking permits in England have reached a record 3.07 million, marking an 8% rise year-on-year to over 5% of the population. Driven by a 2019 expansion of eligibility criteria to include "hidden" disabilities, this surge has prompted councils to crack down on rampant misuse and theft.

Apparently Blue Badge fraud costs the nation over £46 million a year according to the AA so it’s no wonder you have to jump through so many hoops to get one although it does feel a tad unfair that the evidence-based process is not applied equally to all applicants in a bid to weed out those who don’t really need one.

In the meantime, time to dig out those dancing pumps Mother as we need to sand dance down to the Eye Hospital again. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle.

WOOD PANELS - FINISHED

How the world of DIY online shopping has changed. A few years ago, I could place an order on B&Q’s website ready to click and collect at my local decorating superstore in the blink of an eye, paid for using e-gift cards collected over time.

And yes, whilst I can still do this from the comfort of my armchair I’ve noticed some subtle changes behind the scenes. I discovered earlier in the week that B&Q has gone the way of other retailers such as Amazon and become a ‘marketplace’ instead of a primary supplier.

What does this mean for those of us renovating on a budget? Well, for one thing there appear to be less products available on the website that qualify for click and collect because these are now coming directly from a different merchant and not B&Q themselves so costly delivery charges may have to be factored into your project budget.

Can't buy in store or click & collect any more

Secondly, if a product is being supplied by a company other than B&Q then you cannot pay for it using an electronic B&Q gift card. Discounts cannot be applied to marketplace merchants. Bugger!

Merchant is Akzonobel and not B&Q

More importantly if there are any issues with purchases made with merchants other than B&Q then you can’t simply walk into a store to seek redress because your contract is with said merchant. This could cause unnecessary stress or delays to a project particularly if items have to be returned or refunds obtained.

Intending to spend over £12 of e-gift card discounts on paint for my wood panels, I felt in some way robbed of the opportunity to shop savvy by this new online retailer practice. But where there’s a will, there’s a way especially when there are still colour mixing desks in store.

I trundled down to my local decorating superstore with my half-used tin of Dulux Heritage paint then got the colour mixing desk to rustle up a pot of furniture paint in the same shade (Green Earth). Okay so it’s not strictly speaking Dulux because they use Valspar paints which I’ve always found to be inferior in thickness/quality to the Heritage range but as its only the corridor then it will do. As my transaction is now deemed an instore purchase then e-gift cards can be used in part payment. Cheaper paint, no waiting for couriers to arrive or delivery costs incurred.

Armed with my freshly mixed Green Earth multi-purpose/furniture paint, I’ve thrown a coat of the stuff onto the wall panels. Money no object, I would have ripped out the original skirting board and replaced this with one that had a profile more sympathetic to my panelling but to trick the eye and disguise the ugly skirting board underneath the panels then I’ve painted that green too.

First coat of paint applied to panels

First coat looks a bit streaky so I suspect it’s going to take more than a couple of coats to get that nice even finish.

Streakier than a rasher of bacon

Here’s what the panels look like after a second application, less streaks although if I had enough energy I might have been tempted to put a third coat on just to be on the safe side.

Looks better after a second coat

Overall, I feel the colour drenching approach has created a different feel to the corridor than that of contrasting white wood panels but I guess it’s just a matter of taste.

Contrasting white panels

Colour drenched finish

To round off the project, I’ll give the architraves a coat of Jasmine White to freshen them up or perhaps I should go the whole hog on this colour drenching thing and paint them green too.

Once the plumber's hung the radiator back in place then it's phase II for the corridor - flooring.

WOOD PANELS - PAINTING

It’s been over 12 working days since I left the world of employment and what was meant to be my period of self-enlightenment (POSE) has instead turned into a calamine calamity. Shingles is not something I’d recommend so if you’re eligible then please spare yourself the agony and go get vaccinated. I will be beating down my GPs door for a dose of Shingrix as soon as I hit 65 as there’s no way I’m going through all this palaver again!

If I thought my spotty nightmare was bad enough, I’ve also been fighting off a bacterial chest infection since the middle of last week. ‘Not shingles related’ said my doctor smiling sympathetically whilst at the same time running through a checklist of potential candidates for the Virus of the Year award. Low immune system was her conclusion. No wonder they call your 60s the decade of disease, it’s just one thing after another.

Of course, most people stricken with these things would be tucked up in bed resting or molly-coddling themselves with soothing hot baths, rum toddies or a plethora of paracetamol but not me – I’m painting the corridor.

Masking up the primed panels

Getting everything ready for a paint job

Thanks to a small sunny window of opportunity, I’ve actually managed to paint the corridor walls above my wood panels which are still a work in progress (a bit like my retirement).

Green Earth walls above primed panels

Two good coats of Dulux Heritage Green Earth velvety matt paint later, I can now see the contrast with the white primed panels. Looks a little too stark for my liking maybe because I made the panel sections so big.

Are these panels TOO white?

The colour contrast may have worked better if I’d made my panels more of a tall, narrow shaker style type rather than going for large squares. Still, we are where we are.

And this is where AI would have been beneficial. Imagine having a computer programme where you could create a mock up of your empty room then tinker about adding wood panels, paint, wallpapers or other decorative features. Brilliant!

I suppose interior designers may already have CAD programmes that enable them to do this but it certainly would have made it easier to visualise the end outcome of this project if I could have produced a virtual reality version of what I wanted my decorated corridor to look like.

Maybe Microsoft could invent a free interactive ‘Changing Rooms’ website for those would-be decorators like me if they’ve got a few minutes to spare.

Cough!  Cough!  Cough!  Time for a rum toddy in a hot shower.  

SPRINGING FORWARD

Hurrah British Summer Time has arrived robbing us all of that extra hour in bed although now I’ve retired, I can compensate for this loss by simply getting up at midday.  

Spring is the ideal time to begin retirement not only because we’re heading towards better weather but because you can wind up all your financial affairs neatly in line with the end of the tax year.

Remember – a prosperous retirement relies on intimate knowledge of UK tax rules. Get to know them better than you know yourself.

For PAYE employees, the end of March marks the 12th month of the financial year. For those retiring at this time of year, your final pay packet is potentially the last time you’ll pay National Insurance, Income Tax or private pension contributions. I say potentially because you may have left work but income tax is still going to dog your footsteps like a demented stalker for the rest of your days.

First on the Tax To Do list is to inform the Revenue that you are no longer in employment. This can be done easily via the Government Gateway website or App. Log onto your account, go to the page that forecasts your income for the new tax year then zero any salary estimates shown against your past employer.

If you are getting income from any other sources such as a private pension, doing this should trigger HMRC into sending out a revised tax coding notice to your remaining income providers which in theory means that your full personal allowance should transfer across in its entirety if you have only 1 sole pension income provider.

Should you be drawing down from multiple private pension schemes at the same time then the situation is a bit more complex as HMRC will need to split your personal allowance across all your income providers so you could see lots of different tax codes suddenly appearing.

Apparently, it is down to an individual to take responsibility for correct tax coding and NOT the Revenue. This makes it even more important to keep on top of this stuff because HMRC can’t always be relied upon to get things right. If your tax codes don’t look right then challenge them asap. Don’t leave it as tax matters are always harder to unravel with the passing of time.

Secondly, if you have not already used up the annual ISA allowance then max out your ISAs. Stash as much cash as you can into any ISA accounts you have prior to the end of the tax year because ANY future retirement income drawn from an ISA account is completely untaxed.

If you are cashing in any private pensions fully to fund early retirement then an ISA is where you should be depositing funds to avoid paying any future savers tax.

Thanks to auto-enrolment I have a small private pension from my ex-employer that I will be cashing in as soon as we roll into the new tax year. Rather than keep the funds invested in a pension pot, I have decided to do this because:

1) Too much volatility in the stock market at present

2) Mansion House accord forcing pension providers to move money into UK equities

3) Possible reduction or removal of the 25% tax free pension lump sum by the Government

4) Possible increase in income tax rates in the next Budget

5) Tax wrapper benefits from cash ISA account


We’re all encouraged to pop our hard-earned cash into pensions BUT what is not always clearly pointed out at the onset are the tax liabilities you incur later on when you come to withdraw funds. Let me give you an example to explain what I mean.

Say I have a small private pension pot valued at £4,000 which I wish to cash in fully. I get to keep the first 25% or £1,000 free of tax. The remaining £3,000 is taxed at 20% so you pay away £600 income tax leaving you only £2,400 towards retirement.

Suppose, I change my mind and decide to leave the pension pot fully invested and draw down regular monthly income from it instead. The same applies. After the tax-free allowance of 25% is used up, you will pay income tax on whatever you draw out every month plus you will also be liable for annual Fund Management fees on the remainder.

Once you understand the above examples then points 3 and 4 made previously become much more important. Should the Chancellor decide to scrap or lower the 25% tax free lump sum allowance for pension withdrawals or put up the rate of income tax in November, your retirement finances will be impacted.

My gut’s telling me that there’s a pretty good chance that in November, income tax rates will need to go up. Not just as a result of the current Gulf war but to make up for loss of revenue from green levies being moved out of energy bills and into general taxation, pay for cost-of-living increases doled out to politicians/benefit claimants, the scrapping of the two-child benefit cap and to fund increases in the Defence budget.

I’d rather take a small tax hit now than a much larger one if the above comes to pass. Once my private pension cash is then stashed away in its ISA tax wrapper, income can grow without future tax penalties being applied. Naturally, the Government will try to stymie this by reducing the annual ISA allowances further because the ravenous revenue hyena is not going to pass up the chance of eating more of your pie.

It’s a given that a cash ISA isn’t going to potentially generate as much income as perhaps a stock market investment will but then again, it’s a small price to pay for security of your capital and NO taxes.

Whoops I’ve rambled on. That’s what happens when there’s no word limits imposed on blog posts. Was there a point to this post? Yes. Choose your retirement date wisely. Whatever you do to fund your retirement always spread things out across multiple tax years to reduce tax liabilities and make full use of tax wrappers. Hence why I will be waiting until at least May before cashing in my small private pension.

BELLS & WHISTLES

Big is beautiful. Or is it?

Back in January 2024 I put up a post relating to ‘shrinkflation’, the popular practice of making products smaller yet charging the same price for them but get this – there’s a new sheriff in town making BIG changes.

Living in a consumerist economy where you’re encouraged to buy, buy, buy means that retailers have to continually come up with cunning ways to part us from our cash. And the latest trend appears to be quite the opposite of ‘shrinkflation’ because instead of giving you less, you’re going to be paying lots more for a whole host of unnecessary bells and whistles or larger sizing.

This all became abundantly clear during the Easter break when I was searching for buns and eggs. Something strange going on here I thought as I perused supermarket shelves.

For example, let’s take the good old hot cross bun. For the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that boring old hot cross buns have been transitioning from what essentially was a simple currant brioche into a stylised poshed up tea-cake baked in a myriad of funky flavours.

Ugh! Why can’t they just leave these things alone? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! 

I don’t want chicken tikka/bubble gum flavoured buns costing £2 plus for a pack of four, I just want the old-fashioned variety to slot into the toaster then slather in butter for breakfast. I recall a few years ago, these currant buns could be bought in packs of six costing a quid now the price has doubled and so has the flavour profile.

And eggs. Don’t get me started on these as that’s a whole new ball game too. Why charge consumers a couple of quid for a plain one filled with a few smarties when for the price of a king’s ransom, you can flog them a ‘luxury’ egg the size of a watermelon in expensive looking packaging? The goose that laid these golden eggs allegedly made of ‘chocolate’ but with less cocoa in them than a bourbon biscuit is certainly fleecing its nest from gullibility.

Buns or chocolate eggs are not the only products being upsized in a bid to part us from our wonga because the eagle has also landed in the laundry basket in the form of Ariel’s Big One. Big mess? Big money. Why stick one ordinary sized pod into your washing machine when for a lot more cash, you could just pop in a bigger one costing double? Guaranteed to clean out mud, grass stains and your wallet all in one easy flick of the wrist.

Weirdly all this tinkering about in the detergent world has annoyed me so much that I’ve reverted back to good old fashioned wash powders. One scoop in the drawer, job’s a good ‘un. No fuss, no additional scent boosters, big ones or sickly-smelling glopping liquids that can be used at lower temperatures. Much more cost effective, less polluting/plastics so environmentally better.

I’m not convinced that washing dirty clothes in temperatures no warmer than a tepid cuppa is going to shift stubborn stains or germs. It’s a jolly hot soaking for the other half’s stinky socks, crusty smalls or sweaty bed sheets.

Super scrimpers beware of these artifices designed to trick you in buying stuff that doesn’t provide value for money. I stopped buying Easter eggs years ago, preferring instead to purchase chocolate bars costing the same but weighing more. Hot cross buns freeze well so buy when on a yellow-ticket price reduction then stick in the freezer until the Easter weekend.

And a bit like Christmas, it's sometimes best to defer your Easter celebrations until after the actual event because most shops sell any leftover chocolate eggs at reduced prices so you get more for your money.  

Remember, big is not always beautiful. Big can encourage wastage. Bells and whistles will cost more but won’t always be better. Buy only what you can afford and always look out for those pennies.

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD

Unexpected item in the bagging area.

Woke up this morning to find that Ana Robic had paid us a midnight visit leaving behind a brightly coloured gift in the form of a food recycling bin. Animal, vegetable or mineral? Looks like a character out of Star Wars.

I come in peace

Not another bin! Just where do the Council expect residents to keep all these recycling receptacles? At this rate I’ll be charging them ground rent for my driveway. Pssst! Keep it to yourselves but I don’t actually keep my bins on the drive due to lack of space but have positioned them on the footpath by the front gate. My view is – council bins should sit on council property, not mine.

In Spain, households do not have their own personal set of waste collection bins. Instead, huge commercial type dumpsters are dotted around a neighbourhood on the street. Residents are expected to take out their crap and sort it on arrival at the recycling station according to whether it is glass, plastic packaging, paper/card, food or general waste.

Dumpster pilgrimages regularly take place because no-one wants a bin full of smelly rubbish cluttering up the kitchen. I know this because it was my job to take out half a dozen carrier bags of pre-sorted rubbish to feed to the dumpster dinosaurs near my parents house in El Rincon each afternoon before going off for my daily walk.

Somehow, I can't see this kind of system ever succeeding in lazy Britain where even clearing a table in McDonalds after chowing down on a smorgasbord of junk food is all too much for some peeps.

I’m all for food waste collecting because we rarely have scraps. I don’t peel veggies except onions and in a household of hungry hippos every last little bit is recycled in our bellies. Food waste is minimal. Brown bananas turned into delicious ‘nana’ bread, skins can be chopped into small pieces soaked in water to create liquid fertiliser which plants love. Stale bread saved for the birds.

However, it’s all well and good getting the population at large to donate all their peelings or parings but there’s little tangible benefit to us other than that warm fuzzy feeling that comes with doing something that in theory is going to ‘save our planet’.

Chichester District Council have been given around £1.7 million quid to spaff on a food recycling scheme at the Government’s behest. I consulted their website to find out what’s going to happen to anything I pop into my spangly new bin. Here’s what it said is going to happen to my food scraps:

Food waste that’s collected will go to an anaerobic digestion plant in Horsham. That’s nice, a scenic trip through beautiful South Downs countryside. Everyone loves a day out in the country including food waste. Benefits of recycling instantly wiped out by the carbon footprint of transport emissions.

Once in Horsham, leftovers will undergo a miraculous transformation into one of two things – fertiliser to help farmers grow crops or energy to power the plant. Do these processes create emissions? Not a mention on the website of impact to the planet of this conversion process.  Methane?  Phew!

The Council then went on to say that if there’s any extra energy, it will be sent to the national grid to power homes and business.

Sounds great. So, what’s in it for me? I grow veggies in my back garden. Perhaps if I rocked up in Horsham with a wheelbarrow some of that fabulous fertiliser could be given back to the community for free. And what about all that lovely leccy going back to the grid? Any chance of some kind of recycling discount on my energy bill for contributing to the nation’s power supply? Don't be daft.

I suppose the Council will sell both the fertiliser and extra energy, pocketing the proceeds yet keeping our council tax bills at the now extortionate band D rate of £2,400 per annum.

In addition to there being zero tangible financial benefit to compensate contributors of free food waste, it appears I have to buy my own compostable bin liners for the small kitchen caddy. The cheek of it! 

When I lived in Bournemouth, the local council provided replacement rolls of liners FREE OF CHARGE. So, not only am I paying for this service out of increased council tax charges but it’s also going to cost me to keep the bin from getting skanky.

Are you calling me a skank?

Whilst it’s not compulsory to actually use the bins, I can see this being dismissed as an additional faff by the average household who certainly aren’t going to be too happy at shelling out continually for bin liners. I mean, who’s going to remember to add these to the weekly shopping list? It’s bad enough having to buy compostable poo bags for cat turds.

My name's not Mr Jinx

Saving the planet with one hand, killing it by filling the atmosphere with emissions and landscapes with non-biodegradable plastic bins. That’s the ridiculousness of green policies for you!

NANASAURUS

Now that I don’t have work to worry about, I’ve volunteered to look after my darling grandson for a week during the school holiday break.

The little munchkin is now a ‘3-nager’ as my daughter puts it. You guessed – defiant, loud, stroppy, bossy and with an appetite to rival that of a giant panda so I’ve already come up with a cunning plan to make sure the little monster is properly worn out at the end of each day.

This miniature dynamo switches from boy to dinosaur, notably T-Rex, when you least expect it. I’ve been warned not to be shocked by loud roaring, stomping or attempts to ‘eat me’ as that’s what apex prehistoric predators do even to their grandparents.

I may be long in the tooth but I can still do Jurassic. Nanasaurus has bought herself a few silicone moulds in the shape of dinosaurs to make some yummy treats for visiting toddlers.

First stop – Lakeland. Silicone mould featuring 12 mini dino-sized creatures costing £2.99. Perfect for making mini chocolate monsters.

Lakeland silicone dinosaur mould

Here’s how to rustle up the perfect Jurassic treat for your little darlings:

Place your silicone mould on a metal baking tray.

Prepare everything before melting the chocolate

Melt around 150g of chocolate in a bowl over a pan of boiling water (or microwave in short bursts). I’ve not used any expensive fancy cooking chocolate, just a couple of bars of the cheapest supermarket stuff I could find for this experiment.

Take care not to let water get into your chocolate mix

Leave liquid chocolate to cool slightly then fill your mould either using a teaspoon or by using a plastic piping bag with the tip cut off. I found the piping bag method less messy than a spoon plus it enabled me to get right into those tiny silicone nooks and crannies.

Tala plastic piping bags.

Give the chocolate filled mould a few taps to disperse any air bubbles and level off the filling.

Fill then tap mould to disperse air bubbles

Put tray and mould in the fridge for a couple of hours to allow the chocolate to set.

Once fully set, carefully push the little dinosaurs out of their silicone settings. Don’t over handle the figures as I found these melted in your fingers quite quickly.

Pop into a plastic container to store in the fridge until needed.

Just look at how cute these little dinos are! Almost too good to eat.

These look roarsome!

Planning to have a go at making a few with white chocolate just to see how they compare to these dark choco ones.

To make our Jurassic treat even more fun, I'm going to hold our very own archaeological dig by hiding some mini chocolate or cookie dinosaurs in a small box/tray covered over with soil (grated chocolate). Won't it be great to watch your little one uncovering these tasty fossils with a small brush like a real paleontologist.  Steven Spielberg eat your heart out.

Can’t wait to try this out on my grandson later this week.  

Who says grandparents can't be roarsome!

SLICING & DICING

Five weeks have passed and there’s still a war on.

Increases in wholesale oil prices have so far only trickled down to petrol pumps but it won’t be long before those same increased fuel costs are making their way into food prices so I’m slicing and dicing my way to victory.  

Here's my super trooper cost of living tip to help you all save some wonga during these hard times.

My ears pricked up at hearing a recent radio advert for cut price veggies being offered in time for Easter celebrations. Super Scrimpers everywhere - rally the troops. Now! It’s time for a supermarket assault. Breaking news - carrots, parsnips and swedes all 4p per pack. FOUR pence. It costs more to use a public convenience!

Not quite on the same level as liberating the Strait of Hormuz I agree but my price-busting military coup costing £2.24p has resulted in a mega haul of 2 kg of carrots, 1 kg of parsnips and 2 fat swedes. My raid also included a couple of bags of tatties (spuds) at £1 per bag. Doesn’t sound like much but believe me, once frozen this little lot should be enough to feed two people for a good few months thus saving the pennies if food prices go up.

Gone mad buying veggies

Root vegetables are incredibly versatile so worth buying for storage. Think roast dinner accompaniments, wholesome soups, casseroles, mashed up or even baked into delicious cakes. Yep, you can actually make parsnip cake.

Now for the hard part – the slicing and dicing. In order to reap the long-term veggie victory benefits, everything has to be chopped, boiled, dried then frozen.

Blanching fresh root vegetables is easy peasy and doesn’t take long so not much gas used.

Top and tail the carrots and parsnips. I don’t bother peeling them just give them a good wash/scrub in the sink beforehand. Cut carrots into slices and parsnips into batons.

Blanched parsnip pieces

Heat a pan of lightly salted water until it comes to a good rolling boil then drop in your veg. Take care. Splashed hot water burns like hell. Boil only for 2 minutes then drain in a colander.

Spread the slightly boiled veg onto a tray then leave on one side until completely dry.

Two kilos of carrots is a lot of carrot

Once dry, place veg into clear plastic bags or containers and straight into the freezer. Label and date.

Same process applies to blanching swedes except that these are peeled and cubed before boiling. Swedes are tough to cut so use a large sharp knife taking care not to cube up a few digits whilst you’re at it. I’m using this lovely machete purchased from IKEA for this, cuts through anything – swedes, chicken bones, red tape. You name it.

Blimey - have you got a licence for that blade?

Spuds can be stored away in a cool, dark, dry place for a couple of months. The Ancient Mariner sticks his in his garden shed but mine are secreted away in my understairs Doomsday cupboard. Open the bags to prevent the spuds sweating or rotting. They may get rooty but don’t let that put you off. There is nothing wrong with eating rooty taters, after all you get to peel them first.

Going back to my roots

Having slaved away all morning over a steamy pan of boiling veggies, I can now relax with a cuppa and think of how many extra chocolate eggs I can buy once Easter is over with all that money saved.

One for you and six more for me

Happy Easter!

RASH DECISIONS

For the first time in my life, I haven’t had to get up at the crack of dawn to rush off to work. It’s the strangest feeling I can tell you.

So, what have I done with my first week of freedom? 

Well…. Relishing the warmth of our feathery duvet for starters whilst running through a mental ‘to do’ list to keep thoughts from turning to what I would have been doing at this very moment if I’d been back in the office. Saddo. Let it go. Now!

Utopian dreams of early retirement have been rudely scuppered by an unexpected sudden bout of shingles no doubt brought on from stress at the thought of having absolutely nothing to do. It came on rapidly, a Usain Bolt out of the blue.

The irony has not been lost on me. Here I am on my first week off work and all I’ve done is rest or dab gloopy calamine lotion on a super-itchy sore looking rash that appeared across the top of my left booby and armpit. Hardly the glamourous life of a retiree I’d imagined. I should be painting walls, digging up the garden, wild swimming or hunting capybaras not looking in the mirror every few minutes trying to figure out if my buboes are spreading.

Is this God’s punishment for idle loafers who should be spending their time in productive employment rather than dreaming of lazing around in the garden?

Having managed to get an urgent face to face appointment at the GPs, the lovely lady doctor proceeded to give my bouncing Berthas a jolly good fondle before prescribing a course of super-strength antivirals called Aciclovir. ‘Take five of these every day’ she smiled sympathetically quickly ushering me out with a barge pole to minimise risk of contagion and so she could fumigate the consulting room before the next patient.

Shingles is no fun. Awful calamine lotion aside, it’s the minor electric shocks rippling across your skin that leave you feeling frazzled. Now I know what it’s like being a fly near one of those electric bug zappers. Ouch! Itch! Dab! Not only do I look like an extra from a zombie apocalypse movie but Aciclovir gives you the stinkiest farts so I smell like a dead rat too.

Still, it’s not all bad news. I have to keep reminding myself that whilst I might not be full of the joys of spring, I have officially retired and that’s a bully bonus in itself. 

Just keep taking the tablets and try not to scratch.  Dab me!