tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85598691442884259252024-03-13T11:47:00.502-07:00London LifeThe Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-28851926350531390422009-04-26T04:00:00.000-07:002009-04-26T04:26:42.914-07:00Busy making and mending<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLdTxoC7NltWqQAGWXwZXXrdSpDtmKfA3PL5Zaqc7qtBs2TbxGXIMM-nlORE3vZLtdHUCwc_S6goFkLRXYw-Tb6g4McY2ezAmIqkxkmtTbupBY34tjkCljtS6Okwq6iG9N9dg2LxZ8Xc/s1600-h/Mi2+GIF.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLdTxoC7NltWqQAGWXwZXXrdSpDtmKfA3PL5Zaqc7qtBs2TbxGXIMM-nlORE3vZLtdHUCwc_S6goFkLRXYw-Tb6g4McY2ezAmIqkxkmtTbupBY34tjkCljtS6Okwq6iG9N9dg2LxZ8Xc/s320/Mi2+GIF.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328957236165795842" border="0" /></a><br />I have not posted here for a while - that's because I am focusing my attention on other things. Firstly there's Make it and Mend it (or MIAMI as we often call it).<br /><br />If you are looking for inspiration for living more creatively and sustainably come and join us<br /><br />Here's some recent posts<br /><ul class="posts"><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/whats-happened-to-making-do-kirstie.html">What's happened to making do, Kirstie?</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/seeing-beauty-in-industrial-waste.html">Seeing beauty in industrial waste</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/10-reasons-to-be-cheerful-when-youre.html">10 Reasons to be cheerful when you're broke</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/third-world-wisdom-gives-us-second.html">Third world wisdom gives us a second chance</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/dinner-parties-for-less-than-20.html">Dinner parties for less than £20</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/oiling-wheels-of-london-transport.html">Oiling the wheels of London Transport</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/can-we-pester-you-for-your-pesto-ideas.html">Can we pester you for your pesto ideas?</a></li><li><a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/2009/04/bags-from-old-tyres-and-suits-from.html">Bags from old tyres and suits from plastic bottle...</a></li></ul>Come and join us on the <a href="http://makeitandmendit.blogspot.com/">blog</a> or the <a href="http://www.makeitandmendit.com/">website</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbu0C6cqziM8RZz8q2GNS9XO-oxknLt3isqs3g9VoBq07bPf-c3Z6PIJQ1sWUgNfc5oT399Kpvz2vHmwHba4e1ask8Rx8kBIJuCU9D4GqwFF7pqGJ1hYkqtZfhIVXS4f0J6_hutow5358/s1600-h/SYMBOL_COL(1).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbu0C6cqziM8RZz8q2GNS9XO-oxknLt3isqs3g9VoBq07bPf-c3Z6PIJQ1sWUgNfc5oT399Kpvz2vHmwHba4e1ask8Rx8kBIJuCU9D4GqwFF7pqGJ1hYkqtZfhIVXS4f0J6_hutow5358/s320/SYMBOL_COL(1).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328957021443729314" border="0" /></a>Otherwise you can catch up with my latest musing on marketing matters and helping businesses grow in the recession on the <a href="http://www.antconsulting.co.uk/page7.htm">blog at ANT</a><br /><br />Some recent posts :<br /><h3 style="font-weight: normal;" class="post-title"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a name="40456"></a></span></h3><h3 style="font-weight: normal;" class="post-title"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a name="40456"></a></span></h3><h3 style="font-weight: normal;" class="post-title"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a name="40456"></a></span></h3><ul><li>Burger King's Whopper Sacrifice</li><li>15 Key Principles for wining in a recession</li><li>Wittering on Twitter</li><li>Out of Balance - lessons for leaders on steering the course<br /></li></ul><h3 style="font-weight: normal;" class="post-title"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a name="40456">Looking forward to you joining me in either or both these.</a></span></span></h3><h3 style="font-weight: normal;" class="post-title"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a name="40456"><br /></a></span></span></h3>The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-91331973927028387792009-02-15T08:58:00.000-08:002009-02-15T09:11:20.316-08:00I am doomed<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBmTEybuDB7X3MRACOdobx1Iql3s7CreKL3NgTap7IvGB4w1Z-SSjlI9FmXBO4sAP5sFUDFwdHLMrGsQPmAXjOCljCDdAE5XV2bLhRWWKW2_Jy7iAcucT4Qt6GqvxDa9Otq7oJ_PTXTE/s1600-h/images-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 94px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBmTEybuDB7X3MRACOdobx1Iql3s7CreKL3NgTap7IvGB4w1Z-SSjlI9FmXBO4sAP5sFUDFwdHLMrGsQPmAXjOCljCDdAE5XV2bLhRWWKW2_Jy7iAcucT4Qt6GqvxDa9Otq7oJ_PTXTE/s320/images-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303071380125727586" border="0" /></a><br />I was strap-hanging (again) on a very crowded Piccadilly Line train yesterday, surrounded by people off the Eurostar and en route to Heathrow. In fact they were en route to everywhere, as both Victoria and Jubilee lines were closed. A girl of about 18 offered me her seat. This is it: I am doomed. I am not even 55 and already I am in the old people bracket.<br /><br />It probably serves me right for laughing at my brother (a year younger) when he told me the cashier at the Streatham Odeon assumed he wanted a "Senior" ticket. I said I would have said yes please and saved some money, but after yesterday I'm not so sure. Mind you I have been putting a lot of weight on, so maybe I could console myself by thinking the girl thought I was pregnant. Either way I need to get my hair done and spend some time in the gym.The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-36404257552141443452009-01-28T09:30:00.000-08:002009-01-28T10:34:49.401-08:00Life imitates art<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkkktm7hrVJlzCbk1yej32JAQ59bUKoE6_fuOC_uX47EW8IqAT-5cK5vT2W9kcFUfmZOobNnaq6HJL9MsoP11HDyAaUXKnJimQU1P_F1yGmO86SO77BlSUfDYmVpe1Or2mZk3hHwOgrc/s1600-h/1806664188_6c12600a3e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 110px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkkktm7hrVJlzCbk1yej32JAQ59bUKoE6_fuOC_uX47EW8IqAT-5cK5vT2W9kcFUfmZOobNnaq6HJL9MsoP11HDyAaUXKnJimQU1P_F1yGmO86SO77BlSUfDYmVpe1Or2mZk3hHwOgrc/s200/1806664188_6c12600a3e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296411062168418418" /></a><br />Strap-hanging into town on the District Line, my mate was telling me about David Lodge's latest novel, Deaf Sentence, a work inspired by the author's own onset of deafness. <br /><br />My friend started to explain Lodge's contention that "blindness is tragedy, deafness is comedy", but serendipity struck to illustrate her point. A cringe-making, annoying and very loud mobile phone ring tone rang out: the sort that you put on your phone when pissed and a bit bored then die of mortification when it goes off in a public place. We turned round to see who was the guilty party, expecting them to quickly quell it. But no one answered it, and it rang out loud and proud into the carriage as four, evidently unconnected, people sitting side-by-side, each plugged into their iPods, stared blankly into space, oblivious to the dirty looks of other commuters. We dissolved into laughter and agreed deafness is indeed comedy.The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-84903734075602521842009-01-21T10:46:00.000-08:002009-01-21T11:33:23.388-08:00What's in a bonus?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYPBm_bOdmoF2o9qtNZ71GBU56gN63GFOpg4DahsLl1Bp5t6u2cRhtLTMREFhxqTy_zxk3XDqj5xtTfH8_gRGUYnWkfK-GPP4WuoP7Awl7OBAPM8CzDSeOX2VEaKNTFJ-7TsSiZoXQ40/s1600-h/Northern_Rock_Branch2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYPBm_bOdmoF2o9qtNZ71GBU56gN63GFOpg4DahsLl1Bp5t6u2cRhtLTMREFhxqTy_zxk3XDqj5xtTfH8_gRGUYnWkfK-GPP4WuoP7Awl7OBAPM8CzDSeOX2VEaKNTFJ-7TsSiZoXQ40/s200/Northern_Rock_Branch2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293826122017408930" /></a><br />I have just read about the employees of Northern Rock getting bonuses for their part in the bank's progress towards repayment of the 25 billion quid we stumped up to bail it out. The bonuses are averagely two grand or 10% of salary: loose change to the bastards who caused all this mess. <br /><br />I'm not going to debate the rights and wrongs of Northern Rock employees' worthiness of a bonus. Instead, I am interested in the words of the union representative who is defending the bonus payout, on the grounds that "staff have had to endure a difficult working environment, including a freeze on their normal bonuses and promotions for some 18 months". <br /><br />What stopped me short were the words "normal bonuses". It seems to me that the original meaning of bonus as "an unexpected but welcome event" has been lost and instead bonuses have become part of annual salary entitlement. One of the Sunday financial pages breathlessly reported, as evidence of the increasingly tough conditions applied to mortgage-lending, that several lenders will no longer include annual bonuses when calculating maximum borrowing levels. The surprise should be that they <span style="font-weight:bold;">ever</span> included them. When bonuses were first conceived they were earned on exceptional performance of either or both the individual or the company. How then can a bank or building society possibly know how a prospective borrower is likely to perform in his or her job! Do they have access to borrowers' perfomance appraisals? Do they study company reports and broker's predictions for the employer companies of prospective borrowers. Of course not. It is yet another example of the profligacy and irresponsibility the banks have been showing for years.<br /><br />We all know the bonus culture has been out of control. But it's not just in the amounts some of the evil bastards were getting (and in many cases still are), but in the way that if you are eligible for a bonus it is assumed that you will get it. It has become just a lump sum portion of normal compensation packages. This can't be right? Whether the bonus is for £200 or £20 million, shouldn't it only be paid for exceptional delivery above and beyond the the requirements of the job?The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-29516476735688492332009-01-20T09:38:00.000-08:002009-01-21T11:30:55.269-08:00Little Emperors<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjHFXL_T5vsQmr7hbeUJTDwb5nYZW1gRrE0azssjZZoIMRmUDSsCS0shqW9-1sP6d1f_xAL_piRiHEyhGmGTzfN5hJMrPsGMAtZPgOSHdZ2-nhNTCqhfdmcG3DYASfDI13jGz6YOIXXs/s1600-h/IMG_0975.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjHFXL_T5vsQmr7hbeUJTDwb5nYZW1gRrE0azssjZZoIMRmUDSsCS0shqW9-1sP6d1f_xAL_piRiHEyhGmGTzfN5hJMrPsGMAtZPgOSHdZ2-nhNTCqhfdmcG3DYASfDI13jGz6YOIXXs/s200/IMG_0975.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293475901812100210" /></a><br /><br />A couple of days ago I was walking along the Fulham Road with a friend. A school bus pulled up in front of us and a teacher sprang out, ahead of a seemingly unending stream of teenage boys and their baggage. The party blocked the pavement, forcing my friend and I to stand and wait until every child got off the bus, while the teacher barked out intructions: "Straighten that tie" "Tuck that shirt in" (all of which were completely ignored by the boys), but totally failed to say what I would have thought was obvious - "Hold on a second and let these ladies get past". Eventually the last boy jumped off, the teacher stood aside, the bus pulled away, and we were left in front of a pavement still blocked with a gaggle of boys and their sports-bags and had to walk in the road to get past. The teacher thanked us for our patience but it didn't seem to have occurred to him that it was the boys who should have shown some patience and stood by to let us pass. <br /><br />Then on the tube last week. It was very crowded and a seat in front of me became vacant. I was about to sit down, when saw a woman holding onto a young child. The girl was about six and the woman looked tired, so I stepped back to let her take the seat, assuming she would sit with the child on her knee. But no. Children these days don't like to share seats. The woman thanked me, then plonked her daughter in the seat and remained standing herself. I was pissed off as I had no intention of giving up a seat to a perfectly fit and healthy child and recalled all those childhood years of giving up <span style="font-style:italic;">my</span> seat to anyone older. <br /><br />Are children today less sturdy, less capable of maintaining their balance when on public transport, less strong? Or is it that children today are less polite, more indulged by their doting parents and totally unrespecting of adults.<br /><br />A hell of a lot of parents today seem terrified of their own children. They act as though desperate to make their children like them and this engenders a fear of telling their kids off, so they end up pleading and trying to reason with their errant offspring. This is creating a hostage to fortune and is based on the erroneous assumption that if you are always nice, your offspring will love you more.<br /><br />But then what do I know?The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-10407801823481186802008-12-22T01:01:00.001-08:002009-01-20T13:06:18.154-08:00The Con Trick of "Consumables"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNUH3pmtLs_t91SBIPj_EnzQjipavc2cs8D5l0pddEDMHQ2vkW98NEZkfzGCaMhBOmBEv0syDPKLV4zpgq7utim3iI1JHvJWB0uAl82nXETjRxqTkNZzJP_oZJiZRM4QnAS_0CYKrfbM/s1600-h/DSC00296.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNUH3pmtLs_t91SBIPj_EnzQjipavc2cs8D5l0pddEDMHQ2vkW98NEZkfzGCaMhBOmBEv0syDPKLV4zpgq7utim3iI1JHvJWB0uAl82nXETjRxqTkNZzJP_oZJiZRM4QnAS_0CYKrfbM/s320/DSC00296.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282582256037632130" /></a><br />Whilst it may have taken me a long time to cotton on to the fact that ink costs more than printers and that most things that used to be free like television (licence fee apart) now mostly have to be paid for, I realised this week that this fact of modern life has assumed ludicrous proportions. I moved house earlier this year, after painful months of major works, including a new kitchen. This week a card landed through my letterbox addressed to me by name and reminding me that it was time to buy a new cartridge for my kitchen tap. Now I already have a water softener and I have to shell out huge sums for big blocks of salt to keep that fed, so what on earth is the cartridge on my tap for?<br /><br />I peered under the sink, which is a spaghetti junction of pipes (the picture above shows just one corner), and lo and behold there was a white cartridge nestling there, connected by a blue plastic tube to the underside of the kitchen tap. But why could I possibly need this when I have softened water and drinking water via an enormous American style fridge freezer?<br /><br />I went online to the card-sender's website and discovered my taps are designed to filter out smells and unpleasant tastes and will save me a fortune in bottled water. Well I don't buy bottled water. In restaurants I ask for tap and apart from the occasional bottle of fizzy I have always been happy to leave my fate in the hands of the local water authority (after all they charge us enough for that privilege). It turns out that I will require a replacement cartridge every six months and this will cost me around £64 per year as well as approximately 5 minutes of my time to replace the cartridge, having first isolated the water supply to the tap. In other words, someone else has found a way to extract money from me for something I did not know I needed and certainly know I do not want. It will also require me to go out and buy the necessary spanners to make my way through Spaghetti Junction, which knowing me I will cock up and then I will have to get someone in to fix the resultant leak. I can already feel the stress coming on. If I do nothing and just leave the old filter in place, the website warns me that harmful bacteria could be building up inside it. This means I will doubtless need to get it removed and the pipes reconnected around where it was. So I am damned if I do and damned if I don't. Maybe I should just risk the salmonella? Any suggestions?The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-64654371915855709382008-12-15T02:55:00.000-08:002008-12-22T03:49:16.167-08:00West Ham Warriors, or Why men are strange creaturesYesterday I braved the cold and damp weather and took my usual seat in the Lower West Stand at Stamford Bridge to watch Chelsea yet again fail to win at home. I was absolutely freezing despite layers of clothing and was amazed to see across the pitch in the away supporters corner, four West Ham supporters naked to the waist. I presume they had pulled their shirts off to celebrate their team scoring the first goal (although it is possible they had been semi-naked since kick off and I had not spotted them until then). Anyway they stood there, like four neanderthal warriors, separated from their bear skins, on their feet leaning over the barrier, all through the match, seemingly oblivous to the cold.<br /><br />I am still at a loss to understand what it is that persuades men (and it is always men it seems!) to do something that is so obviously against their own interests. Yes, there was doubtless a plentiful supply of alcohol coursing through their veins, but there was a pint and a half in mine and it didn't stop me shivering through my thermal vest, t shirt, sweater and heavy fleecy lined jacket. It must have been excruciating. To choose pain in that way seems so masochistic as to be borderline insane. Maybe it was one of those heat of the moment things - one whipped his jacket and shirt off, the others followed suit and then a macho 'if-you-can-do-it-then-so-can-I' standoff took place for the rest of the ninety minutes?<br /><br />This would never happen with women. We'd look pityingly at whoever was mad enough to do something like this and let them get on with it from the comfort of our designer thermals. I am not including here Geordie women, whose standard Friday night midwinter outdoor attire involves bare legs, bare arms, white shoes and lots of exposed bosom - they are in a class of their own and it's definitely genetic. Whilst the majority of Manchester United supporters are renowned for coming from the home counties ("You only live round the corner!" being a favourite Chelsea chant when we host them), I was not aware that West Ham had a niche following of northern lads. I thought. like us at Chelsea,they were a bunch of southern softies! These four WestHam guys looked they were participating in a public audition for Braveheart II.<br /><br />Anyway they provided the only entertainment for me to lighten the loss of another two points squandered at home. Zola, la lo lala Zola.The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559869144288425925.post-5498418643364293722008-12-05T06:43:00.000-08:002008-12-22T04:15:16.115-08:00Breaking taboos on the Piccadilly Line<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5C-7U0WZWTOqm9fCRhsZ7BPau8Z1DG_Osg0JRd803D2KW-UIqrvWLx1J02OMtctr98US7psKXnX9cegCn2ALq1kTwygtlQ7pW1yJY55P9bdhGY5djP2Xu8lAEN8m5nlD_Qa3H8qPtpXE/s1600-h/302_large.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5C-7U0WZWTOqm9fCRhsZ7BPau8Z1DG_Osg0JRd803D2KW-UIqrvWLx1J02OMtctr98US7psKXnX9cegCn2ALq1kTwygtlQ7pW1yJY55P9bdhGY5djP2Xu8lAEN8m5nlD_Qa3H8qPtpXE/s320/302_large.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282586880718810626" /></a><br />On the crowded Piccadilly Line this morning an old man got on behind me. A young woman immediately jumped to her feet to offer him her seat. In a rather posh and very loud voice the old fellow declaimed to her in the hearing of the whole crowded carriage:<br />'Oh no thank you. You are blonde and beautiful and I plan to make love to my wife this evening and standing up and looking at you will keep me in the mood! Where are you from?'<br />The entire carriage convulsed in laughter and people actually made eye contact. He had broken several taboos at once. Firstly he was an old man openly admitting to having a sex life. Secondly he was unashamedly chatting up a young attractive woman, who herself had (shock horror) offered up her seat (but she did turn out to be Dutch). But most shocking of all he was engaging a stranger in conversation on the tube.<br />The laughter subsided and the woman got off at the next stop so the old chap turned to a couple with a small child and again opened a conversation by enquiring where they were from. An animated discussion of the merits of Yorkshire followed until the family got off and our hero turned to a man with a large holdall.<br />'Where are you off to?'<br />It transpired the younger man was heading to Bangkok to visit his brother, who had retired out there. In the course of the next few minutes we all discovered his brother was gay, he was called Jerry, he lived in Spain, worked as a chef, was about to take up a new job in Finland, had a father who had been a prison officer, came from the North East, had parents who had been married for 46 years and he did not have a wife or girlfriend. We listened as the old man in turn told Jerry he was a physician, had served as a medical officer in Vietnam, discussed the merits of MASH and the museums of County Durham and was off to have a cheap lunch at a catering college in Hammersmith.<br />In the meantime, a young man got on and sat down with his girlfriend and seeing the old man, jumped to his feet to offer his seat. (My God twice on one journey - what are we Londoners coming to? - but then he turned out to be Spanish!). This offer produced another explanation from the old man that he preferred to stand, as standing had a very beneficial effect on his constitution and he intended to make love to his wife that evening. As by now most of the carriage had arrived subsequent to his previous declaration of intent, once again everyone burst out laughing and exchanged those "this is not supposed to happen on the tube" looks. The old man turned to me and suggested I rush home and make love, as it was much better exercise than jogging or cycling. For a moment I thought he was going to suggest that Jerry join me, until he added:<br />"You can't beat a bit of horizontal jogging. Of course only if you are married. I don't want to encourage any extra-marital sex." Again people fell about laughing.<br />By now we had reached Hammersmith, where he was going for his student-prepared lunch. Jerry wished him goodbye, gave him a card for his restaurant in Fuengirola and took a seat further up the carriage to continue his journey to Heathrow. I returned to reading my book. Silence engulfed the crowded carriage once again.<br />As I walked home from the Tube a young man came towards me and, looking the other way as we passed, whispered conspiratorially "It's <span style="font-weight: bold;">Friday</span>!"<br />Maybe all this talking to strangers is a by-product of the recession? Are people breaking out of their cocoons and starting to communicate with each other?<br />If I don't manage to do any horizontal jogging this week maybe I'll go up to Co. Durham and check out the Beamish and Bowes Museums.The Make it and Mend it teamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09407823260535646002noreply@blogger.com3