I love this poem. I try to live it. Not always succeeding, but hey!
Expect nothing. Live frugally
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
Said a tiny Ant
To the Elephant
“Mind how you tread in this clearing!”
But alas! Cruel fate!
She was crushed by the weight.
Of an Elephant, hard of hearing.
Alan is married to Edame. They’re due to retire to Bournemouth. They love a Bergerac box set and an afternoon session on the port. They’ve had their troubles, past indiscretions that occasionally return to bother them, troubled offspring with complex families of their own.
But it’s a loving relationship – fun and fruity. Well as fruity as Alan can manage. Broadly all is calm in Dunstable, Beds, until the original Nazi Hunter and fax-lover Simon Weisenthal recruits Alan out of retirement to take over his mission.
And so the thriller begins. Continue reading
I love this Future of Work Manifesto. I love its breathiness and its completeness.
I particularly like its redrawing of the role of the manager. The manager is so often the barrier to change, the obstacle to progression and the most conservative, self-protectionist role in an organisation.
I think managers should be the ‘keeper of the story’. The role of management should be to ‘get out of the way’.
Great thinking, I think I’ll be following Maddie Grant. Also like that she’s a self confessed potty mouth. We could get on.
It takes some effort to protest – who is going to listen.
But as Sir Billy says, (and I endlessly repeat) cynicism is the enemy of progress, not those who oppose us.
So I took time to reply to the letters I’d received, fully expecting not to hear another word, perhaps being filed in the ‘trolls’ drawers at best, bins at worst. But lo and behold, another crop of responses appeared.
Having pointed out to Vince Cable that he’d misunderstood my letter, he took up my case. He replied saying “Thank you for your further email. I now understand rather better why you are concerned. I agree that it is absurd, and perhaps worse, for the NHS to be guiding perfectly normal children towards dieting and for misleading letters to be sent out causing alarm amongst parents. I will write to the RTCH along these lines.”
And he did, he wrote to Frank Sims, CEO of Hounslow and Richmond Community Healthcare NHS Trust. He emailed him, copying me. And using the phrase “It may be this is a diktat from the DoH. Perhaps you could let me know and I will take this up with a Minister.”
Diktat. Wonderful word. Meaning “an order or decree imposed by someone in power without popular consent.”
I wrote to my MP Vince Cable, the headmaster, Public Health Richmond and Public Health England.
The headmaster raised the issue with the Director of Public Health for Richmond and at the local Headmasters Forum.
Vince Cable wrote back to me. It came across as though he had not read my letter properly. Either that or it was waffle to fill a reply in the hopes I’d go away, since my issue wasn’t on his political agenda. Continue reading