POWER GRAB

OMG! The power grab has begun!

Whilst the world’s attention is focussed on Andy Pandy’s triumphant march into No 10 or Spain’s glorious World Cup win, it’s another front-page nugget that’s got my mind racing. Big Brother is coming for your heat pumps!!!

Front page - The Telegraph 20 July 26

I feel like Crazy Charlie from that apocalyptic disaster movie ‘2012’ – he’s that fabulously deranged character living in a dilapidated camper van whose mad ravings about the end of the world have fallen on deaf ears. Only John Cusack realises that maybe Crazy Charlie isn’t so crazy after all and is making a point worth listening to.

Crazy Charlie - 2012

I’m Crazy Chi Lady. I’ve been trying to warn you all about the remote access capability of your energy systems on this blog and how easy it would be for suppliers to steal your power using smart meters or other smart internet gadgets. I suspect my demented ravings have just been dismissed as populist paranoia but now I fear, it may be too late for some of you.

Unlike Crazy Charlie, I have about 4 followers on this blog and no personal radio channel so it’s a little bit harder to get the message out there but as always, I’m not letting these minor shortcomings stand in the way of getting the word out.

Electricity rationing. I said it about 6 weeks ago (Leccy Rationing post) and I’ll say it again – they are going to control your power supply. Invisibly. Via your smart meters or other connected internet devices. There will be NOTHING you can do to stop them. Only those who are NOT connected to the grid via one of these devices will be spared initially.

I say initially because ultimately, if the Grid doesn’t get its shit together then it will just shut down completely causing major power outages across the nation so we'll all be buggered.

Power blackouts = no internet. No smartphones. No social media. No access to news. No tea (unless you’ve got a gas hob). Nothing. Just blackness. And silence. Enjoy The Silence said Depeche Mode. Yes, enjoy it because the quicker we shut out all this cyber noise, the faster we’ll be able to engage brains to survive the cold.

It will begin with heat pumps. Big Brother will sneakily turn down your thermostat a notch or two, not enough to cause icicle formation but you might feel a slight nip in the air when you leave a room to go to the toilet. Then AI will decide how long your heating will run for. Snooty rich Southerners more likely to get less heating time than poor, deprived Northerners who lack the benefit of warm sea currents to take the edge off cold weather.

From heat pumps, central control will then spread to solar systems especially those with battery storage. There’ll be no cheap overnight charging for you. Hope you’ve got a good pair of sturdy walking boots in the cupboard for when you have to hike miles to work because EV charging has been rationed.

The article states that Britain’s electricity supply typically comes under the most strain during winter cold snaps. No shit Sherlock. Remind me, what is it climate scientists have been repeating till the cows come home? Hotter summers – colder winters. COLDER. Extended cold spells possibly the result of La Nina, the chillier ying to the sweltering El Nino yang are more than likely given the natural patterns of planetary weather.

So, if COLDER weather might become the new normal then it follows that demand for heating is going to increase. Since the Government have done nothing but persuade us all to electrify our lives then they should have long ago anticipated that MORE power will need to be generated to satisfy the population’s needs. Of course, they probably haven’t done so because instead of ensuring that back up power plants are in place, they will take their usual approach which is to BAN or RESTRICT the use of the underlying resource.

I’ll leave it there because there’s a third thing in this article that’s rendered me speechless. It’s something I find so shocking that I’m off for a walk round the garden to calm my frayed nerves.

What has caused me to clam up like a cockle? You’ll just have to wait until the next post to find out.

WORLD CUP CHICKEN

It’s staying home, it’s staying, chicken’s staying home…

We’re not a competitive family. Well, not that much. Let’s just say there’s a strong desire in all of us to be winners, not losers so whenever there’s any kind of competition, pub quiz, sporting event, etc then naturally everyone goes all out to be top of the heap.

The World Cup tournament is no exception. When it comes to footie, there are long-standing family traditions to abide by namely the winning of the World Cup Chicken.

Three wings on a shirt, Chicken cup still gleaming…

The World Cup Chicken Trophy

This trophy almost as prestigious as the real one resides at the front of our cocktail cabinet, emerging every four years for the family footie sweepstake.

I can’t even recall how I acquired the thing – probably scooped up on some bygone charity shop shopping trip but even with its badly hand-painted exterior, beady eyes and random gold spots, it is a thing of beauty. It’s also the perfect repository for our pound coins, entry fee and prize money for our sweepstake. Due to inflation, each coin now acts as a token fiver as that’s what the winner receives from each participating family member.

Place your bets

Teams are drawn totally at random, names written on scraps of paper pulled from a Tupperware container that’s ceremoniously passed round in a flurry of laughing and much larking around. Even at this stage, competitive banter abounds as teams as loudly cheered or booed before being hastily jotted down then officially circulated on a spreadsheet to prevent any allegations of cheating or corruption.

The draw

Once drawn, that’s your footballing lot. No selling or swapping of teams with other family members is permitted. Your destiny or path to lifting the Chicken is completely in the lap of the Gods or rather the numpties on the pitch.

But it doesn’t end there as someone’s got to update the spreadsheet. Guess who? It’s the person with the least interest in football but who loves tinkering with spreadsheets and has nothing better to do since leaving the rat race. I’ll have you know, I take this job very seriously. I may not watch any of the games but believe me, rigorous checking of results follows.

To keep up the family fun, I email the spreadsheet round after each major stage in the tournament accompanied by some frivolous punditry, banter and other tongue-in-cheek remarks designed to gee up everyone.

As teams get knocked out, things get quite high-spirited as anyone still left in at this stage is mentally drawing up a list of things they’ll spend that prize money on (all of £36) and hoping they’ll be the one who gets to keep the Chicken for the next four years.

If Spain reach the final in any given World Cup year, there’s a family pilgrimage to the Ancient Mariners house to watch ‘El Partido’ (the match), sink a few beers and be proud of our Spanish heritage. Faces painted in red and yellow and wearing a motley assortment of footie kits, red T-shirts or random Hispanic themed garments to cheer on our team. Vamos! It’s such a hoot!

A tense finale to this year’s tournament between Argentina (daughter) and Spain (other half), with the best team giving those barging Argies a deserved thrashing. GOL!!!!!!

Spain lifts the trophy

World Champions 2026 - Spain

Having lifted the Chicken, scooped up his winnings, the other half has proudly hung his Spanish football shirt out of the bedroom window so that all the neighbourhood can see that in this household, it’s Viva Espana and not Three Lions.

What will the neighbours think?

BURN 'EM!

I don’t like Mondays, least of all those Mondays where a new Prime Minister is being ushered in to No 10.

The question in our household is not what policies will be proposed by this new incumbent but how long he’ll last in the hot seat. There’s another 3 years until the next general election and at today’s current PM replacement rate then we could easily see one, possible two more in power before we hit the polling stations.

Any other disappointed Muse fans reading this post? Well, weep no more at the lack of decently-priced tickets for their gigs for I have discovered the antidote to this dynamic pricing snake bite which I’m going to share with the world at large. It's Cydonia Knights.

A brilliant tribute to Muse

Cydonia Knights are billed as the UK’s premier Muse tribute band and having checked out their grooves last Friday night at The Brook, Southampton, I can honestly say that unlike Ticketmaster, they didn’t disappoint. Great gig!

They may have lacked pyros or the over-the-top visual stage show that usually accompanies well established bands but musically, I shut my eyes and was instantly transported back to my favourite Muse album – The Resistance.

‘You’re beginning to sound like Jeremy Corbyn’s sister’ groaned the other half as from my bar stool I began to spout forth on how the dynamic ticketing menace could be quashed once and for all if every gig-going punter voted with their feet en masse and just stopped buying tickets. 

Hype. Demand. Price Hike. That’s the formula used to manipulate fans into coughing up more than is decent to watch musical acts but if there were no audiences then surely things would have to change? Up the revolution! That’s what I say (fist pump).

Tribute bands – the closest you’ll get to your heroes at a fraction of the price. These are the unsung stalwarts of the music world. And just to give you an idea of how cost effective it is to follow these bands then here’s a numerical example to put things into perspective:

Cheapest single ticket for Muse at the O2 London on Ticketmaster = £113

Single ticket for Cydonia Knights at The Brook = £15

Seven fans can go to see a Muse tribute band for the same price as one Ticketmaster seated ticket.

Another thing about tribute bands is that whilst many of them may not physically resemble those that they are paying homage to like The Devout (Depeche Mode tribute); they often give fans a better listening experience usually playing longer sets so you get more bang for your buck.

These humble bands are not hampered by having to promote a new album so can deliver all those popular favourite tracks beloved by fans plus throw a few obscurer album tracks into the mix. Tracks that many real bands rarely play live. Yeah, Radiohead. I still remember your gig at the O2 where you failed to play ‘Creep’ – the track your fans were most desperate to hear on the night.

And so, this brings me neatly back to our new PM. Is he the real PM thing or just a bad tribute to a band of manipulative, cowardly, Labour party reprobates who will throw him under the political bus as soon as he shows he’s got a mind of his own and isn't toeing the party line?

‘Burn ‘em!’ is what we’re all likely to be shouting after the next Budget.

NHS - NOT GOOD ENOUGH

Can’t we just fast-forward to autumn? I whined to the other half as we plodded round Worthing last weekend, sweating like pigs and chugging down water like it’s going out of fashion. This super-hot summer has become almost as tedious as all that tennis on the telly.

It's funny how all media reporting has failed to highlight the impact of this year’s ‘El Nino’ weather phenomena on current conditions, preferring instead to hammer home the point that the reason we’re all frying is pretty much our fault. Oh yes, should I mention 1976? That mother of all heatwaves. And also, an El Nino year.

Like the proverbial elephant, I remember summer 1976. Catholic secondary school. Early teens. Lessons under shady trees on the school playing fields. Knee high socks could be swapped for ankle socks or sandals. For once, ties banished to the outer recesses of your floordrobe. Hurrah! There were no school closures in them days.

Hot weather is no laughing matter for the elderly or infirm. Now is definitely not a good time to get sick. Not that there is any particular period when going down with a bug or two is preferable but in today’s NHS world, patients may as well be sat under a shady tree on a school playing field because trying to get a quick or timely diagnosis on anything is pointless.

The saga of mother’s chronic conditions continues. I’m now on her GP’s speed-dial as in my role of care-concierge, calendar updater, prescription collector and chauffeur to the ancient wonder, I am also first in the chain of command on all things medical.

‘Eez bed neeuws’ uttered the good doctor in an Eastern European accent that would have gone unnoticed in the Kremlin.

This ‘bed neeuws’ or rather bad news, is that the NHS’s Iron Curtain Deficiency Clinic have refused to accept mother’s referral for further investigation of her ongoing anaemia and iron deficiency on the basis that her ‘markers’ appear borderline. In their view, she doesn’t meet the ‘criteria’. What criteria would that be exactly? The criteria that her anaemia may not be a sign of something seriously wrong with her?

I held my tongue as the doctor read me the letter of response sent by the specialist department. Outrageous! I thought as an explosive barrage of expletives detonated silently in my head. I appreciate the NHS is skint but to play God with sick people’s lives is beyond the pale. Who in the NHS will take responsibility if mother deteriorates further whilst waiting for someone, somewhere to conduct specialist investigation of her conditions? It’s a ***king disgrace, is what it is!!

What’s even more outrageous, is that according to Doctor Google this situation is not new. Reading this article published in May 2022, it seems this practice is what the health service prescribes at large:

https://www.patientsafetylearning.org/blog/rejected-outpatient-referrals-are-putting-patients-at-risk-and-increasing-workload-pressure-on-gps 

Happy to provide advice and guidance but anything like proper testing, in-person examinations or specialist consultations then forget it. Not a good time to get sick, not now, not ever.

As I’ve said many a time on this blog - pushing out care into the community, things are only going to get worse as time goes on. The NHS has thrown up a blockade so formidable that not even Trump can bomb his way out of it. Seeing your GP is going to be the end of the line for most of us. Anything else and it’ll cost you. Privately.

There’s not a day goes by when some poor bugger has had to resort to private healthcare in order to get drugs, surgical interventions or access to new treatments that would not otherwise have been possible on the NHS. The media is full of these tales. The sad thing is that once-upon-a-time these stories would have been an exception, now they’re just the norm.

It just isn’t good enough!

BOOKING.MEH

Cyber life is becoming more and more of a gigantic pain in the arse as time goes on. Websites that could once be trusted to delivery a quality service or product now appear to be nothing but platforms for shysters.

Rapidly going down the shitter in my estimation is that popular website Booking.com. Where once you could select guaranteed hotel or other types of accommodation for a reasonable price, now it’s become a repository for foreigners offering sub-standard rooms that blow you out at the last minute throwing a gigantic spanner in your travel plans.

It has been my misfortune to be at the receiving end of these practices not once but three times in the past few months. Cheap accommodation booked for concerts well in advance, cancelled just days before travel leaving me fuming and totally in the lurch.

Cancellations happen – yeah, I get that. Sometimes there are mix ups with room bookings, etc. Nobody’s perfect but when this starts to happen regularly particularly during dates when there are multiple big events or concerts happening at the same time especially in London then I start to get a bit suspicious.

Take my room booking for this weekend for example. I’d booked 2 nights at a property in Woolwich more than six months ago costing £64 per night. Bargain price for a weekend in London. I messaged the property mid-June to confirm my time of arrival as they’d requested.

Then today, two days before I’m due to jump on a train to the Big Smoke. Wham! Sorry, your room’s cancelled. There’s been a double booking so sorry, you’re getting canned. Tough.

What! Exactly when did this double booking occur? You failed to mention this 3 weeks ago when I messaged so I can only assume I’ve been given the boot either because the Hyde Park festival is on or because England miraculously qualified for the World Cup quarter finals and are playing Norway this weekend. Maybe you’ve found another sucker that’ll pay more for a bed than I am or you’re having all your mates round to watch the footie.

Either way, I’m now as mad as hell because I can’t get my train tickets refunded so £42 out of pocket.

My previous cancellations followed the same pattern. Harry Styles plays Wembley so my cheap rooms booked in Camden got unexpectedly cancelled and so did the replacement rooms at the Colonnade Hotel. Bit of a coincidence or what?

Needless to say, I shall in future be using Travelodge, Premier Inn or any other bona fide hotel chain if I feel the need to visit the City so your loss not mine.

Let this be a warning to anyone out there that is using Booking.com to snag themselves a bargain break. Be prepared for last minute heartache and headache. Should you be using this platform then make sure that whatever arrangements you’ve made are fully refundable even if it means paying that little bit extra for travel or accommodation.

RE-DESIGNED CAT LOO

Tut, tut, tut, Andy. Your toe's not over No 10’s threshold and you’re already upsetting the applecart with your Nanook of the North plans. 

Your desire to turn back time to a pre-Thatcher era is a brave move I’ll give you that but unless you’ve unexpectedly discovered a gold mine under Larry the Mouser’s litter tray then it ain’t gonna happen without loads of dosh which even that muppet Miliband can’t miraculously magic up.

Why do you think Thatcher privatised everything in the first place? It wasn’t because she wanted to live up to promises of turning plebs into shareholders. 

No – it was because the Government couldn’t afford to run the utilities; those unionised environments being a complete money pit draining Treasury coffers of every single penny. Same for council houses. They got sold off so that local/central authorities wouldn’t have costly maintenance headaches to continually fund.

Agreed that privatisation of essential utilities was a bad move, we're now seeing the dire repercussions of that policy but re-nationalisation of these industries is only going to work if they're run with an iron fist.  

And as for your plans to ‘Manchesterize’ the world – seriously? Whatever next?

Re-distributing the wealth of snooty southerners to fund crap hats and coats? Somehow, I don’t think your newly found politico mates are going to allow that without a fight. But hey, your shenanigans are at least helping to alleviate the boredom of endless footie and tennis on the telly so crack on.

Back at the funny farm, I’m tackling sporting monotony by re-designing Bertie’s kitty loo because:

• a) I’ve got nothing better to do with my retired time
• b) I’m too tight to pay for an enclosed cat loo.
• c) There’s a Manchester sized pile of MDF offcuts cluttering up the garage that need using up.

Cats are very clean creatures but every time they pop off for a pee, a shingle bank suddenly appears on your flooring. To hold back the tide of kitty litter, I’ve designed a high sided box for Bertie’s tray to sit in. The extra tall sides should help to contain any mess and keep it off my new LVT floor.

BEFORE - looks untidy

How can I stop cat litter getting out?

Here’s how to make your own high sided litter tray container out of MDF:

First take a nice piece of chunky MDF or OSB then pop your cat’s litter tray on top. Using the tray for reference, draw a rectangular shape a few inches larger than the dimensions of the tray. Cut to size. This piece will form the base of your new structure.

Cut rectangular base larger than your litter tray

Work out how high you want your box to be. My box has 40 cm high sides/back but a shorter 14 cm high front piece. Basically, you are making a rectangular box with a short front for the cat to hop into.

Once you have worked out your measurements, cut four pieces of MDF – two rectangular pieces for the sides, one for the back and a shorter one for the front.

To prevent jabbing myself in the eye when cleaning out the litter tray, I’ve rounded off the front corners of each side piece. This can easily be achieved using a plate to create a nice curved shape. Place plate on top of your MDF rectangle near the corner then draw along the curved edge. Repeat for the other side piece. Cut your shaped edge using a jigsaw. Sand any ragged edges.

Use a plate to create a rounded edge

Next cut some lengths of timber batten to fit the internal dimensions of the box. Line these up along each outer edge of the base panel to make a frame. Using thin wood screws, fix the battens to the base screwing in from underside. Remember to countersink all screws so that no heads stick out.

Use timber battens inside box to secure panels

Using a flat surface, position the first side panel so that it sits outside of the base. Make sure front and back edges are aligned so that nothing protrudes. Countersink and screw side panels to the internal battens in a neat line. Repeat for the remaining sides.

Front panel screwed to battens

Back panel screwed to internal battens

Use a strip of small batten attached along the top inside edge of the front and back panel pieces to reinforce the structure.

Smaller battens fixed to top of back and front panels

Voila! A box to contain your cat litter tray. Place plastic tray inside to check it fits then prime/paint in whatever colour you fancy.

Litter box enclosure ready to prime & paint

No more cat litter to pick out from between toes or carpet. Okay, so the screw heads do look a bit clunky on the outside but it's only a cat litter box and I can live with that.  If you want it to look perfect then either glue it all together or use a nail gun.

Cat litter tray sits nicely in new high sided box

You can even colour drench your new kitty box enclosure to match existing décor so it doesn’t stand out from the crowd.

AFTER - Meow!  I wanted a blue one