She fit haes tae be obeyed has bin spikkin in tongues recently fit I dinna unnerstan.
Noo, usually it's affa difficult to mak oot fit she's bleetering aboot, partly due tae the fact she's a quine onywiy, bit add on her Invernesian twang and I'm dumfoonert maist o' the time.
Aye, I ken a sair fecht, bit listen up it gets wirser.
She's takken to spikkin in Dyslexic.
I caim hame the ither day an' she tells me 'at there's a domestic crisis seein' as a, "splug wis parkin". I'm nae quite sure far hid the wirse loose connection.
Then the ither nicht I asks her fit she wanted fae the chippie an' she answers, "een o' they Humbo Jaddocks." Eftir 'at I wis affa worried I'd repeat said phrase fan I wis doon at the shoppie.
But, she left the best far fan she wis keekin at the telly at sum cookery programme. Add the teuchter accent and say after me, "I've nivver had lack of ram."
Noo, surely yiv hae a pucklie o' examples yersel tae tell us a' aboot.
Heard the one about the children's home not accepting their runaways back at 2am because the other cherubs were 'settled' and the influx of the returnees would disturb the others?
Laugh, I nearly choked.
Sticking on topic for a change, on two occasions recently, when asking parents for a photo of their missing weans, I was amazed (well not really) to be advised they didn't have such a thing. That speaks volumes to me.
Mind you there's no test before you have kids, but sometimes I wish there was.
Meanwhile below there's a few snippets I read which might help understanding some kids.
I posted about Senga's (that's Agnes for our non-Scots) heroics a while back which were highlighted in court by the accused's brief.
I like dogs, even landsharks, and this is a wee tragedy. It is also a sickener for Senga's handler and family as the hounds live with handlers these days and her handler will now have to start from scratch with a new dug.
But, in typical black Polis humour, here's something canine related that made me chuckle.
Those of you not from planet Zog will have gathered that one of the sub-plots of this blog is my passion for beer (and of course Whisky). Brown and black stuff in particular, but always in moderation.
I am now advised that one of my favourite breweries, who produce the wonderful Red McGregor and the even more wonderful Dark Island, are to have their spectacularly named Skull-Splitter beer banned.
I am going to go out on a limb here to suggest that your average preteens-binger or confirmed soak would be unlikely to buy any of these beers whilst White Lightning, Buckfast, Stella, cheap vodka and alcopops are available.
According to the editorial, the above organisation's sponsoring of this "life-threatening sport of conkers represents a volte face of quite earth-shattering proportions".
There is a story that the derivation of the Scots word 'Piece' comes from the old rural habit of drying oatmeal gruel, not unlike a slab of dried porridge, and leaving it to go hard in the bottom of a kitchen drawer and then cutting off a bit (piece) to take as part of a packed lunch.
Nowadays, a piece is more generally a sandwich or one's packed meal taken to work (even if it's not a sandwich any more and more likely a microwave lasagne from Tesco). You keep your nosh in piece box.
In the Polis, our refreshment break is known as "piece time." It is an unintended, but amusing play on words. However, as I will elucidate, increasingly rarely do I really get some peace or even my piece, and even less often at what might be considered a reasonable time of the day or after a reasonable duration of duty.
But if you think I have a problem, consider the guid folk over at the SAS.
Now, presupposing you have the time, go and have a keek at these links.
There can be no doubt that in the case of the ambulance service, and indeed the Polis, the public expect, quite rightly, that they have a 24 hour service. However, despite frequent drunken abuse to the contrary, we are human and need our downtime and food. Our welfare must not be ignored. Long term, regularly interrupted or non-existent breaks do nothing for our health.
Having said that, I find it inconceivable not to respond to genuine calls for our skills and presence, even when my fork is about to be raised to my mouth. I will come back to this later, but a little ancient history first.
When I was fresh out of the wrapper, I recall that our skipper would routinely advise the shift who was piecing when as part of his briefing. On a night shift (then just 8 hours duration) half the shift would break at 1am and the other half at 2am for a fry up at HQ in the 24 hour canteen (i.e. before even the canteen staff went onto a 9-5!). Life was good and I didn't miss many of my appointments with the crew. Moreover, the Gaffers would turn up too and it was a good opportunity for shift bonding and the inevitable moaning!
Like the canteen, the booked break soon disappeared down the black hole of reorganisation. Along came the divide of response/neighbourhood policing, variable shift patterns and what I will term 'departmentalisation.' Now shifts are longer, break cover is apparently non-existent and the general demand on response teams is such that a piece time is no longer regarded as a necessity of a briefing or even in the mind of skippers as the shift progresses. Fellow troops will know we now 'grab' a piece when we can. Often this is at a desk as we update databases or fill in forms, sometimes it is in the cars as we hurtle from one job to another. Admit it, you'll all have been clocked by Joe Public with a Ginster's pastie in your mouth as you whizz by. I even suspect Inspector Gadget has been seen devouring a doughnut on the move!
I have known all too often what appears to be the unwritten rule that we must wait for the next shift to come in to get a break, because calls are ‘piling up.’ That can mean an eight hour haul till 10pm! Now that’s a long time for my belly to be empty and an even more daft time to eat. In simple terms it ain’t healthy. Particularly as there is the temptation to sneak in that Mars bar to keep you going!
It seems to me that the same problem presents itself to the Paramedics, particularly those in rural areas where there is no cover at all. It is hardly surprising then that they have called for established breaks to be mandatory and undisturbed. Surely it is for Management to arrange for suitable resourcing to obviate this problem of lack of cover.
I may be described as getting old in the tooth when I grumble about being disturbed on my admittedly paid for break for the same old dross, even if it is a ‘Grade 1’ call. Purely in welfare terms, the dross calls of a routine day and the invariable lack of resources to cover same bites my arse as that lasagne goes back in the micro for the umpteenth time as I leg it out the door to find on arrival at the call that Joe and Josephine Public are telling each other what a respective waste of space they are.
Now, when it’s a genuinely important non-routine call, where my services are really required and rapid response is the call of the day, I don’t mind. That’s what I’m paid for, even during my break and I accept that willingly.
Strictly speaking, I am entitled to 20 minutes break at some undefined time in a shift and by break that means completely away from my work environment, with no interruptions. When was the last time your skipper, gaffer or SMT asked you if you got that? Answers on a postage stamp please.
Now back to the SAS.
But hey, have a cuppa first and switch the phone/radio off.
In the Unionised world, breaks are stipulated and it appears that the ambulance service, as far as Paramedics are concerned anyway, have been run ragged for too long and have 'settled' for one or other option of single payments per disruption, yearly bonus for same or to be paid for the break time to always be available, whilst other have accepted their breaks are unpaid and as such cannot be asked to 'work.'
Given that the Paramedic concerned chose to be unpaid and if he did attend a call there would be all sorts of ramifications therein. Would the SAS 'cover' his backside if he responded and things went Pete Tong? You go guess!
"Publicly, the ambulance service insists MrPark was within his rights. Let’s hope that, privately, it is embarrassed and ashamed."
It only needed one word to be changed from the third person to the first and poor old Alfie would be the target of derision.
To me the simple issue is resources. There needs to be some compromise in rural areas were staffing is understandably thin. It seems ludicrous and palpably unworkable in such circumstances, were there is no relief that a Paramedic can be off duty during a tour of duty. Needs must and I would say the option to be unpaid is a non-starter, but Management must then take their staff’s welfare into account and assure there is cover for breaks.
In the world of the poor Polis, that would mean closer supervision and filtration of the nature of calls responded to by munching moaners and attention to ensuring staff get a reasonable, and reasonably timed, break each and every shift, even when the brown stuff really hits the fan.
What on earth is going on in the English Countryside?
Inspector Gadget must investigate this immediately and report back in triplicate, not forgetting of course, the additional report to the LGBT ovine liaison officer.
... and just what are the Llamas doing about this?
According to an outside agency trainer, you have a clear (sic) choice of what to drink, alcohol wise, but be careful because the darker the brew the more deadly the hangover you can expect as a result.
I'm worried, 'cos I'm more of a brown beer and Guinness man than a lager lout, I prefer red rather than white wine and whisky rather than vodka.
But hey ho, old habits die hard!
I am not going to rename this blog vodka and lager any time soon.
Once upon a time, before Noddy became Mr Plod, he was a Researcher for a Scottish Office funded national survey and opinion poll on Gaelic. I travelled far and wide up and down and across my wondrous nation asking the good folk about our 'ither tongue'. Well, nearly 30 years later we get a dedicated Gaelic TV station (and still it has to wait for switchover day to go onto Freeview.)
Progress can be slow where 'minorities' are concerned!
Update: Due to popular demand from Joe Public, here's a couple of links to the original song performed by Runrig.
Apparently it's WET in Scotland and this causes us Jox to drop down dead at an alarming rate. I'm told we get only as much sun as those folk up north of the Arctic Circle.
Funny that, I'm sure we had a season called summer due some day soon.
Meanwhile, PeePee and all you monoglots doon south can get to grips with the other language spoken in these pairts as of the 19th. and then you might just understand the post title.
Global warming my posterior!
It's a fraud. Just what are the Polis doing about this?
I have mentioned before that The Granite City's finances are in a wee pickle just now, but what could have caused a local councillor to spout forth the following?
Councillor Willie Young, of the opposition Labour group, said economising proposals were "plain daft" and declared: "We have to watch that the political lunatics don't take over the asylum. These cuts are irrational and a step too far."
It's a start and it may only be in the world of cartoons, but the fight back against all things PC has begun as Dennis is being allowed to Menace again.
However, some folk haven't got a scooby doo and there's a unintentional retrograde move.
