Turn It On

We do it every day, and often.  We turn on the tap and expect that water will flow: clear, fast flowing, germ free.   Arguments about chlorine, organophosphates and oestrogen residues aside, we are clearly fortunate to have fresh running water readily available.  For over 800 million people in the world this would be a luxury, imagined only in their wildest dreams.

I’m as likely to take water for granted as the next person, albeit I do my environmental duty by rain water harvesting and re-using grey  water.  Recently, however, I was forced to confront reality when my water supply became erratic, and then ceased altogether.  Living at over 100 metres above sea-level has it issues for utility supply, especially water.  The water is pumped up the hill and then distributed to the main risers, and into the property under normal pressure.  Sometimes the pump, which seems to function erratically at best, stops working – result: no water.  On one particular week recently the supply was on and off, and then just off.  We were lucky to be supplied with 2 litre bottles of drinking water, lots of them, courtesy of Scottish Water, but turning the tap on and expecting to see water running was futile, as was thinking that you were going to be able to shower or bathe anytime soon!

We take things for granted. We are human; we have an enduring capacity to get used to just about anything – what was novel and delightful yesterday is common and mundane today.  We are born of generations who accept technology as a given.  I am old enough to remember the mid-seventies drought, and collecting water from stand-pipes, and I hope I am wise enough to recall how fortunate I am to be able to turn on my tap and get water on demand.

Accordingto Tearfund,  the Millennium Development Goal – aiming to halve the proportion of people without sustainable access to safe drinking water and sanitation by 2015 –  is decades off schedule in many parts of the world. In sub-Saharan Africa, we are set to miss the water target by 20 years and the sanitation target by nearly 200 years.  According to the charity WaterAid over 2 million people die from water related diseases every year.   In a world where one in eight people in the world doesn’t have access to this essential resource, at the very least shouldn’t we be grateful that we have water on demand at the turn of a tap?  Well, most of the time, anyway!

Magic Beans

Borlotti beans No, not a prelude to the pantomime season.  I loathe pantomimes.  Yes I do! Yes I do!  Although the ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’  folktale itself is quite compelling as a story, for me the magic of growing is a far more magical, and ultimately profitable, experience.  Who wouldn’t be mesmerised by bean stalks curling their way around canes?  Six foot, eight foot; sky high if you like!  Delicate little plants that turn into sturdy, bountiful, bearers of long green pods that taste divine in all their beanie loveliness.

As a child I was always fascinated by anything you could grow from seed: the obligatory cress on the windowsill of course, but also flowers,  tomatoes and many other wonders.  My family weren’t hot on ‘grow your own’ even though we had a huge 160 foot garden, but somehow I got the bug.  I’m not sure if it was uncle Ray’s veg patch or the allotments I spied from the other side of the park, but something lodged itself in my psyche.

I’ve never lost the utter wonder of growing something from seed, especially if it’s something edible!  How do mammoth squash and courgettes emerge from tiny seeds, no bigger than a finger nail?  How do huge leeks form from  a black spec twist of peppercorn?  It is nothing short of amazing.  It doesn’t matter if I grow things from seed for decades, I don’t think I will ever stop being in awe of the determination of nature to shoot up and out – abounding abundantly.

I’m not particularly green-fingered. Not everything germinates, and not everything that germinates produces a crop.  The runner beans were a disaster this year, and the courgettes missed the sunshine terribly (as we all did in this northern neck of the woods), but that didn’t stop a bountiful harvest, which as I write, approaches 180 kilos ..and counting.

I count myself lucky that I’ve always known where my food comes from – I know that peas don’t come from the freezer  section of the  supermarket, and I can identify a carrot or swede, or even more exotic delights such as aubergine.  That’s because although my parents didn’t grow fresh vegetables, we did buy and eat them, usually from the local market.  It’s heartening to see projects such as food for life  teaching young people where food comes from, getting them involved in cooking, eating, and even growing  it.  It’s perhaps sad that we need such
initiatives.  In an age where we can be so disconnected from nature, encouraging people to ‘grow their own’, and giving more children the opportunity to experience the power and wonder of nature first hand can still provide that little bit of magic.  O yes it can!

 

User Experience

Disability

I’m no fan of supermarkets. Trolling around one in a wheelchair on a Saturday morning, indeed anytime of the day or night, is not my idea of fun.  It was necessity on both counts: I needed some food, and I can’t currently walk after surgery.

As I work with people who have various disabilities, I am not unaware of, or unsympathetic to the potential issues, but it is still  something of a shock when the ignorance of the general public, and stupidity of corporations smacks you head on.

There is no room in a supermarket for a wheelchair and a shopping trolley, and it seems to be the law that shopping trolleys have right of way.  I sat politely on a number of occasions waiting for trolleys, and the people loosely attached to them, to move.  If I had a horn on my wheelchair I would have been less patient and certainly less polite.

Shelves are designed for people significantly over 5 feet tall, and I can categorically say there is very little I want that is on the bottom of a supermarket shelf.  Some of the checkouts are too narrow for wheelchairs, and unless you can levitate, or are built the size of Hagrid, chip and pin machines seem to be too high to insert the appropriate payment card.  The checkout assistant was polite but addressed their remarks ostensibly to the person assisting me, and even gave my card and receipt back to them!

I was in and out of the shop mercifully quickly, and thankfully my disability is temporary; I am sure there are far more trials and terrors awaiting those who have to rely permanently on mobility aids.  In an age where equal opportunity is embedded in legislation and discrimination is an appropriately dirty word, surely we can muster a bit of enlightenment when it comes to design, and common decency and common sense should be, well, a bit more common…..

Second-Hand-Jane

It has a dowdy second best ring to it, doesn’t it? When I was younger – much younger – it really was ruinous to street credibility to admit you’d crossed the threshold of an Oxfam shop, never mind done any shopping in one! When I was in my ‘black phase’ I found a very nice trilby and waistcoat in my local Oxfam shop that became part of my look for ages!

Today I have, and wear, apparel that is 30 years old, and am proud to shout it. I’m lucky, I’ve barely changed size in all that time – a genetic and metabolic quirk rather than a boast – and can get away with it. As fashions come and go I plod along mixing and matching dubious styles from the eighties with more recent acquisitions.

I was delighted to find recently a colleague with similar trending notions. On admiring a bold orange print top, I was told it was a dress from the 60’s which had been modified. Go Clare! Unfortunately I don’t have the requisite skills to re-model dresses, but I’m pleased to say there are an increasing number of people out there who do. Oxfam now have their own Vintage brand, breathing new life into faded denim and vintage lace.

Indeed, ‘vintage’ and ‘shabby chic’ whilst not quite de rigueur, have acquired a far more desirable image than the ubiquitous ‘second-hand’ clothes. It’s great seeing the ‘ reduce, reuse, recycle’ theme applied to something both more basic and desirable than recycled glass bottles that no one quite knows know what to do with. All power to the new breed of eco-warriors and second-hand-Jane’s – those old style thrifties like me.

Antiques, paintings, houses, classic cars, they all increase their worth with the patina of age, and it’s certainly time that fashion came of age and was more a matter for individuals and less a product of the high-street factory.

The outdoor brand Patagonia are reclaiming and reusing old polar fleece, and local people like Rag Tag and Textiles and Highland Fairy are up-cycling out of vogue clothes into original creations. Making your mark with your own style may be easier than you think and certainly has a huge impact on global resources and the people who have little choice about what clothes they wear.

Photo credit http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=2000

 

Why I’ve Decided to Start Blogging

BeautyDo I have anything interesting to say?  Well that’s probably not a question for me to answer, but if I had to, it’s a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’.   I probably have the potential to be as interesting as the bloke who cleans the public loos, but not quite as interesting as the butler to HRH -it all depends on what grabs you.

What grabs me varies from day to day, but recurrent themes will be cooking, gardening, nature, writing, crafting, organics, justice, and the general state of stuff.

Just now, I’m enraged that so called ‘civilised’ nations can still be executing people; I’m overjoyed at the beauty and deliciousness of my red cabbages, and delighted that the sun was shining earlier.  It’s all important – to me;  And isn’t that half the point of this blogging caper – sharing what’s important to you, hoping that other people hold similar ideals, and that somehow this potential sharing dialogue can make a difference and might actually matter?

Well maybe that’s all a little grandiose!  Here I am anyway.  My first post on my own blog. Here we go…….