I arrived home and checked the situation.  Champagne, unchilled, in the larder, Cava in the fridge.  

You know, if I were in a position of national authority, I’d want a pessimist with an analytical mind on my team – not just to say “it won’t work, you know,” but to be able to explain why.  Then, you’ve got an opportunity to pre-empt problems and work out how to get around them.  I’m quite sure that the reason for so much of our inept and botched legislation over the past years is because of a “can-do” attitude, where anyone who raises an objection is seen as undermining the team, or the leader.  As a result, unexpected obstacles occur.  There seems to be a fairly relaxed attitude about this – extra legislation can always be brought in later to deal with the loopholes.  I think this is dreadful – for one thing, it looks incompetent and lazy, for another it unnecessarily complicates the matter and for a third, some of the problems may not be identified for quite a long time.

There’s also the habit, nowadays, of announcing something to see how it goes down with the public, and if there’s a big outcry, a rapid turnabout and a cancelling of the plan.  The last government did that and, sad to say, the present one seems to be no less guilty of the same tedious thing.  I’m not being political, certainly not party political.

Another thing that has come in over the last fifteen or twenty years is measuring – standards, efficiency, whatever.  This may be to save money, spend it more wisely, get better results – and the result has been target setting.  This isn’t always terribly helpful – for one thing, people can sometimes spend as long working out how to circumvent the targets as in meeting them, especially if it’s not a realistic target in the first place and, for another, if one is missed then it doesn’t necessarily matter by how much.  And there has to be a point at which efficiency reaches its peak, after which trying to save more just becomes either not cost-effective, or actually reduces efficacy.

I’ve got to get ready for my meeting this afternoon.  Dice haven’t been rolled, but they’re being shaken right now.

I’m feeling a trifle drained, it’s been quite a day and tomorrow is likely to be more so.  Al is also expecting a couple of very busy days, as the governors at the village school are interviewing prospective headteachers.

There’s too much in my mind, and a lot of it can’t be said at present.  Besides, I’d ramble.  And you’d be astonished if I were to ramble, wouldn’t you?

I called on John and Andy today.  Both look very well.  John is walking a lot better and was able to stand up without putting his good hand on the arm of his chair (he was probably showing off, and good for him if so).  However, he still has to hold a stick on the wrong side, so it doesn’t give him much support.  Andy is going home tomorrow.  His wife and family have cleared the dining room and put a bed in there for him (we’re looking after some stuff for them, because there’s no room for it).  He’s still very positive and cheerful, and looking forward to being home.

I have a bar of chocolate and I can’t remember where I put it.  Frustratingly, I know it’s in this room somewhere.  I had to open the chocolate chip cookies – mind you, they’ve been  about since Christmas, so it was probably about time *checks use by date* – well, 31st March would be, anyway.  I’m in some doubt as to whether it’s better to turn to chocolate or alcohol in moments of pressure.  I think that chocolate biscuits are the worst option of all – although they were FairTrade chocolate chip cookies.  I’ve given the rest of the packet to the Sage, anyway.

Regarding emails and keeping information – I was just asked for something dating from 2001, and had to say that I hadn’t still got it.  Having changed computers a couple of times since then, some data got corrupted in the transfer and had to be deleted.  It happens two or three times a year that I’m asked about things that no one else remembers.  For instance, I’ve been asked about the details of the rewriting of the Articles of Memorandum of the village school from 1999 (I was able to answer), the facts about the leasing of a playing field (I knew about that) and the details needed in the information pack for job applicants (from eight and a half years ago, that was easy, I went straight to the file).  I am vague about a lot of things, but I remember a chain of events or something I’ve been closely involved in – for instance, I wrote those Articles.

I seem to have offered to try to track down the missing information.  Me and my big mouth.

I made a total pig’s ear of this job last autumn, I’d underestimated how much cross-referencing I’d have to do.  I got it all done in the end, but it was something of a nightmare to sort out. So this time, I’ve spent the last hour getting prepared for all the information I’m going to get back – if all goes well, this will be four different items from each of 25 people, plus one or two each from another dozen.  Some of the information has to be entered in more than place, and I’ll also receive 25 cheques to record and keep carefully to give to the treasurer.  And I know that the forms they send back will just be filled in, resaved and returned so won’t have a specific society heading.  I didn’t twig this back in the autumn and found myself with a lot of documents, all labelled the same.  A few people didn’t send theirs back at all until I’d reminded them several times.

That was most of the problem, actually.  I’ve deliberately sent out the request for information a fortnight later than last time to bring it all into a more reasonable period of time.  In the autumn, I merrily filed everything until I wanted to correlate it all, then couldn’t find everything because I’d received it so long ago and dozens of emails in the meantime – this was in a folder, not the inbox, where I’d had hundreds.  And some sent everything back in a single mailing and others in four.

I know that a lot of people, in the course of their work, receive hundreds of emails a day.  How do they cope?  I find it quite daunting enough dealing with fifty or so.

Inboxes, hey – of the email persuasion, that is.  I expect most of you keep them really well sorted.  Delete what you don’t need, file the rest.  I used to, once.  But then they started to build up and, although there are some things that always get filed (mostly receipts, guarantees and so on), it’s all got way beyond me.  I do have a go once in a while, but it’s too far out of hand and I lose heart.

The idea is, I leave it in the inbox, labelled, until it’s dealt with and then I file it.  And I could just start doing that and at least have a cut-off, from which point onwards all will be organised.  What stops me?  I’d be so pleased.  Maybe this should be a belated New Year Resolution.

The reason it’s on my mind, however, is that I’ve just been sorting out the inbox of another email address, to such good effect that it’s now empty.  Everything dealt with and either filed or deleted (I tend to keep almost everything, which is part of my problem).  So, since I’m expecting a lot of emails to that inbox in the next couple of months, at least I’ll know that what’s there is relevant to now.

Those of you who are, either by nature or self-discipline, efficient in your filing must look at the rest of us and wonder why on earth we don’t just get it right at the start and keep it right.  It’s very little more bother to just file everything at once and keep it in order, and then it saves a lot of time and trouble in looking for things that are out of place or lost in the pile.  I’ve no answer for you.  You’re right.  It doesn’t seem to suit me, that’s all.

Sorry about yesterday’s lack of post.  I wrote on in the afternoon, but it was one of those that rambled on until it even bored me, so I deleted it.  Then I remembered on my way to bed, but fell asleep before I could write one on the phone.

What I had been going to write about, since nothing of particular interest happened yesterday, was that I’m finally starting to get into Facebook rather more warmly.  It’s taken a while, but then so did blogging.  It was a long time before I stopped feeling quite artificial, pretentious even, and longer again before I felt part of a community here.

I’d been reading blogs for a while, but not venturing to comment because it didn’t seem quite polite to barge in when people all seemed to know each other.  Then I discovered that most bloggers welcome comments and like to know they’ve got new readers, so I started to leave some comments and from there it wasn’t long before I started blogging myself (five years ago last month, I’m not big on anniversaries so I didn’t mention it at the time).  I really thought I was going to be completely anonymous, but that didn’t last long.

I had the same idea on Facebook, very briefly, and put in a false surname but soon changed my mind.  It seemed pointless and indeed, I have now got quite a number of real-life friends there.   I’ve still kept the blog and FB separate however – some folks publish their posts there too (or rather, links to them), but I don’t.  Quite a few of my friends do know I have a blog, but only three of them have asked for its name and one looked for me, that I know of.  However, Dave mentioned the blog on my wall this morning.  And I know that my name, Googled, leads here (a mishap when a box auto-filled and I didn’t notice, years ago).  So, if anyone I actually know arrives by that route – yep, this is my little, not very well-kept secret.  

I slept jolly well last night, good job I didn’t have anything on first thing.  This afternoon, as I said yesterday, I went to look after Zerlina because her parents had an appointment.  She was lovely and we played for the afternoon – I reminded her a couple of times about the loo, and she headed for the stairs when she felt the need.  Good girlie.

As you know, Dilly and Al are expecting a baby in late May.  Now Weeza has had a scan and is over the first more precarious weeks, I can tell you that she and Phil are expecting their second child in mid-August.    I’m feeling quite the matriarch, I can tell you, and it’s a jolly good feeling.  One of these days, someone in the family might take me seriously and I may receive the respect I deserve.

Or maybe I do already.  Oh dear.

Blimey, I’ve been working hard.  This must be what it’s like to be other people.  I did take a couple of hours off this morning to take in a lecture on Faberge, but as I kept going until 11.30 last night and started again at 6 this morning, I felt entitled.  I woke up at 4.20, by the way, and would be feeling a bit twitchy by now if not for the calming and restorative effect of half a bottle of Rioja.

I did avow my intent for a nap this afternoon, but I didn’t get around to it.  I was planning an early night, but I see that Mad Men is on at 11.20 or something.  Is that a new series or a repeat?  I watch television so irregularly that I don’t know at all what’s going on.  I’m trying to watch Episodes, however because it is, rarely, a comedy that is funny (I don’t mind sweary, though I have to apologise to the Sage a bit).

There’s a lot happening, in regard to family, my business, the Sage’s business and school.  I am keeping up together, except for the Nadfas stuff, for which the deadline is Friday.  That’s all right, I’ve been keeping tomorrow morning.  Housework and gardening aren’t happening, of course, but I don’t care much about that.

I’m a bit hyper.  Sorry.

No, come on, what shall we talk about?  I looked at my phone for inspiration and discovered an email I haven’t replied to.  Oh damn.  Sorry.

Tomorrow afternoon, I’m babysitting Zerlina.  I haven’t seen her for ten days, so it will be lovely.  She has finally left behind nappies and is wearing Big Girl’s Pants.  As am I, so we’ll have something in common.

Don’t have a lot to say about today, except that I’ve come home with a whole lot of work to do.  I had said I’d go to WI, but I’ve emailed with my apologies.

I used to be a member for about 20 years, but haven’t been for the past three.  This is nothing to do with the society I went to, but I was busy and missing more meetings than I attended.  And then, HQ decided that they were going to relaunch their magazine, send it to everyone, and charge a higher fee accordingly.

How it works, the subscription is decided at Head Office, with the capitation fee they take off.  The rest of the money is the society’s to use as necessary and desired – on the meeting place, speakers, etc, and more fundraising can be done if required.  The thing is, though, I didn’t want the magazine and there wasn’t an option not to pay for it.  You could opt out of receiving it, but you still had to pay.  I gave it a chance to grow on me, but found I often wasn’t bothering to take it out of its wrapper, and if I did, it took about five minutes to glance through.  I didn’t mind paying the sub to the local branch even if I didn’t make most of the meetings, but rather resented the high-handed manner of HQ, so my attendance and membership lapsed.  Ironically, I still get sent the magazine.  The first year, I thought that maybe they were doing it to keep me in touch and maybe tempt me back, but now I just think they’re inefficient.  All the same, I do miss seeing my friends and so I am aiming to rejoin.  But not tonight.

I missed much of this morning’s music lesson because the Finance meeting went on a long time (we’re not out of money, a major policy item was being discussed), but when I joined the lesson to find that the pupils were learning how to mix tracks, I thought I was fairly okay, having used the programme before.  However, turned out they were using a different programme.  So, I asked one group who was doing well what they were doing and, when another had a problem, relayed the information.  This afternoon, as the teacher was showing the whole class what to do, I made notes on my phone (better than paper as I won’t lose them).  So I was able to be a bit more useful.

I also had school dinner again, which was very good.  And cheap, £1.18 for a pasta/tomato sauce bake with cheese topping, and salad. And the catering manager came and offered me coffee afterwards.