A right pickle

I got into a right pickle yesterday. What another fab phrase. I got all confused about some insurance I was taking out and the more confused I got the more mistakes I made and the deeper I dug my hole. But it wasn't a disastrous mess.

My son can't resist a pickled onion

It was a bit like my painting experiences where I get into a right pickle. It's a phrase that tells someone you have got yourself into a knot of mistakes but it's not the end of the world. You might be a bit hot under the collar but you could easily laugh yourself out of the pickle again.

I went for a walk with a friend the other day and we got into a right pickle in some mud. It has rained so much that the footpaths are just quagmires, get into the middle of the path and linger a moment and you start to sink. We felt a bit pickled.

Libraries no more

Remember back in March last year I lamented the demise of our local library? Well it's official now. Our library will disappear along with most of the other libraries in the borough. Of course, our local MP and local Councillors will say the libraries aren't going but just moving into a room in other pre-existing Council premises. But it's hard not to see 'moving to a room' as the beginning of the end.

It's hard to see how staff can maintain the level of service in a significantly smaller space with less money and presumably fewer of them. It's almost a self-perpetuating decline now. It's hard to see why numbers using the library will not just fall off because the service just won't be the excellent one it is now and then before we know it the Council won't be prepared to justify the time, effort and money to keep libraries going. Alas I don't think libraries have yet reached their nadir.

Call me cynical but it's funny isn't it that the report that sets out the future of libraries in my local borough was released just before Christmas. Funny isn't it that the local press and public haven't reacted much because they had other things to think about in the Christmas rush.

If you remember my local MP didn't seem that bothered about the threat to my library. I won't be writing another letter to my MP or Councillors because I don't trust them any more. Was it only about two years ago we were asked to vote on a number of options for the library service. We voted. And now the goalposts have changed once again. Libraries are the soft and easy target to save money. I just wish politicians would treat me as fairly intelligent and admit that the service will be poorer.

Over the last year or two my friends and I have continually lamented the end of libraries. We have even felt a rumble in the ground. Could it be that those 19th century philanthropists who gave money for the creation of places where people could learn are turning in their graves? Could it be that earlier generations of local councillors are heaving a sigh of relief that the destruction of libraries wasn't undertaken on their watch? Or is that all imagined?

Anyway let's jump forward 30 years - someone conjures up a new concept. A  revolutionary idea. A place where you can go to ask people about how to research local history and get information, borrow books, obtain support with your education, encourage children to read - all under one roof and not necessarily all on computer. What shall we call it?

Never watch children or animals

Went to see 'War Horse', the stage show, at the weekend and it was amazing. The puppetry is breath-taking. But I broke my golden rule: never watch films or plays with  children or animals in as it will only lead to profuse crying. It has a relatively happy ending and still I cried. I had mascara embarrassment in a public place.

Some of my friends may laugh at my reaction as I am not known for my overt fondness for pets or animals. Part of that may stem from the fact I am a farmer's daughter so I see animals in a more practical sense of either delivering milk or producing beef or laying eggs.  I also know the huge commitment that is involved in looking after any animal properly and kindly. But put them in a drama and I am a goner.

However, with a bit of self-psychoanalysis,  I actually think the tears all stem from watching the film, 'The Yearling', as a little child. Have you ever seen it? It stars Gregory Peck, playing a farmer in the old American pioneering days. I haven't seen it in decades but I remember it's about a young child having a young deer as a pet and basically having to shoot it because it eats the family's crops and damages fences. Cheerful, hey! Bambi has nothing on it.

I can remember crying and crying, watching it. Hence that's why I weep when I watch films about children and animals that involve even a teeny-itsy bit of sadness or cruelty plus I'm like my Dad and am a bit of a sentimental thing at heart. I suspect deep down I equate having a pet with ultimate sadness....ooh I'm into the self-analysis big time.

I certainly wouldn't survive the film of 'War Horse' especially as it's directed by Spielberg - I'd be a wreck. But don't let me put you off the stage production - it is awesome.