Tag Archives: charity

Some Thoughts of a Retired Gent

Tufted Duck

It’s a bit nippy this morning but the heating is on and I have plenty of clothes, so it’s not going to be a problem.  Christmas, which is coming rapidly, is always a time to think about people sleeping rough and that leads on to thoughts of refugees. It’s a privilege to go to sleep at night with the knowledge that in the morning your roof will still be there. That’s not something you can rely on if you live in Gaza or Ukraine.

So, this morning, I’m not going to complain about faulty Amazon deliveries or the iniquities of our local Post Office, which are both at the forefront of my mind.  When I moved to Peterborough I thought of changing my monthly donations to local charities dealing with the homeless, because dad and mum used to volunteer for the local soup kitchen. I had a look at the website details of the local soup kitchen this morning but decided to donate to one of the associated charities that gets people off the streets. In a way, I feel like it’s the easy way out, but I’m not sure I’d be a lot of use making sandwiches or serving drinks all night.

Goosander male

Meanwhile, as I sat and watched a bit of TV with my morning coffee, I watched Fake or Fortune, an episode on musical instruments. Establishing provenance should have been a piece of cake compared to some of the paintings they research, as they only needed to go back to the 1960s. However, nobody seemed to be able to remember back to the 1960s and 70s, so it all petered out without a positive identification. The laws of libel probably prevent me commenting on the causes of this amnesia.

Despite the title, these aren’t all the thoughts I have had today. I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to put in tonight’s coleslaw, for instance, plus “What was that?” (it was a picture falling off the wall after Julia had straightened it) and “Why didn’t I make a note last time?” when I had to order new bags for the kitchen bin. It’s a busy place, my head, though not necessarily as orderly as I would like it to be.

Photos are water birds from December 2016.

Mallard drake

 

RNLI

Beaumaris Lifeboat

Beaumaris Pier

Beaumaris Lifeboat

Did you know there are between 80 and 100 independent rescue services operating on the coast and inland waters of the UK and Ireland? I didn’t until I was looked up Mundesley in Norfolk for details of the Minesweeping Memorial and found out they had a private lifeboat. This shows the educational value of Wikipedia, though it does also question the value of education. I am more knowledgeable as a result of knowing this, but I am not more employable or of more use to society.

The RNLI is our best known rescue service, having been formed in 1824 as the National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck. It became “Royal” some time later and the name was changed to the current one in 1854. The founder was Sir William Hillary, who took part in  a number of rescues, including one in 1830, when he was 60 years old. He initially sent a proposal to the Admiralty for the setting up of a life saving service but eventually raised the money to start the service by soliciting donations.

That is one of the reasons that the RNLI operates in Ireland. Although government  services such as the Coastguard were withdrawn in 1922 with the formation of the Irish Free State, the RNLI continued operating as it was a charitable organisation. One RNLI Station, Portrush, actually operates in three countries (Northern Ireland, Ireland and Scotland).  Lough Erne is the site of a station that serves an inland waterway in two countries. It’s curious that the RNLI can solve questions of cross-border working where the combined governments of the UK and EU can’t.

 

Beaumaris Lifeboat

Photos are from July 2019 when we spent a few days in Wales.

 

 

The Post That Never Was

Today’s post is going to be a politically scathing and hilarious look at modern life in the UK. Well, it was this morning when I composed it in my head as I drove to work. I seem to be able to relax and think in the car, which is quite an alarming thought when you think I am in charge of a ton and a half of metal powered by the equivalent of over 120 horses, all of which needs threading through a mass of vehicles driven by people paying even less attention than I do. I may have to reconsider my meditation routine.

Anyway, I won’t be writing that blog post. It’s partly because I’m trying not to do politics. And mainly because by the time I’d got to my computer (I email my notes to my home computer from the shop) I’d forgotten what I was going to write. I find I do that more and more often. I think my brains might have hit the point of no return. In terms of going over Niagara Falls in a barrel I’m at that teetering point just at then top, thinking of mortality and the long fall that is coming . . .

Meanwhile, today’s rant features charitable donations. I already give by standing order. I sometimes give a bit extra. I don’t mind the giving, what I mind is the way people like Amazon and eBay keep asking at check out time. If they want to support charity they can do it out of their massive tax-avoiding profits, not by ambushing me. And Clogau jewellery is even worse. I’ve ordered from them three times recently (I hve a lucky wife) and three times they have added £3.50 for a donation to a charity of their choice – twice for trees and once for something else I can’t remember. I always cancel the donation, but they shouldn’t have added it in the first place. It is very annoying as it makes me feel evil to cancel the donations. Anyway, I already give money to plant trees every year. End of rant.

Day 46

What can I say that I haven’t already said? I’m afraid that today was much like yesterday, but without a rainbow. This evening was much like yesterday evening, apart from the fact I didn’t go out. I have, however, managed to get back into the Facebook page, so here is the link. It appears that although we had 14 people at the Zoom meting last month and 17 there last night, we can only manage 8 on Facebook. It’s hard work running a society.

I am on the committee, mainly because, at the last AGM, I said that if they had difficulty getting anyone to step forward to take up the vacant spot, I would do it. As a result my name was recently forwarded to the Charities Commission and I have already had two emails from them. This is two more emails than I got when I was previously a committee member at a rugby club which was also a charity. Things move on and perhaps become better organised, but does it really make a difference? I will comment no further.

The charity sector also covers big businesses like private schools looking for tax advantages and a variety of individuals who fancy a couple of foreign trips a year and somebody to pay for them to have a new car. Cynical? Yes I am. Wrong? Let’s just say I’ve seen some of these in action. Notice how many of these charities are set up to help foreigners in exotic holiday destinations and how few are set up to help people in the cold and grimy parts of the UK.

I’m definitely thinking of going back to titles for posts rather than numbers. When you use titles you can ignore how fast the days are going by. At this rate it will soon be time to think of planning for Christmas . . .

Money, Money, Money…

Sorry if you’ve previously been to this page and found just a photo and a title – I seem to have deleted the post, but I’ve found it again (eventually) and it’s back where it needs to be.

I won on Friday night’s lottery. Of course, things are never that simple and with great wealth comes the worry and responsibility of managing the cash. Fortunately the National Lottery realises this and they have a system to help you with the burden. In my case they have further decided to lighten the financial burden and have kept the prize manageable, sending me the sum of £1.60 electronically. In an ideal world they would also have provided me with a magnifying glass to ensure I could see the prize.

I’ve now won five times during lockdown, which is probably a sign I’ve been playing too much. As the total winnings have been £46.60 I’ve decide not to let it change my life. I’ve also decided to stop doing the lottery. There is an old joke, which can be used for many purposes. It goes:
“How do you make a small fortune from gambling/the antiques trade/farming/stocks and shares?”

Answer: “Start with a large one.”

It is useful for many industries and activities.

At this rate it’ll be a long time before I run out of money, but have been thinking about it and have decided that I really should give up. The chances of a proper win are small and the thought of becoming rich brings out the worst in me. Although I’d like to do some good with the money, I’m not sure it would be good for the kids to be assured of financial stability in life and I don’t think I have the required moral fibre to give it all to good causes.

sea sunset beach couple

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I also lack the enthusiasm to lead a millionaire lifestyle. I have no desire to pour money down the drain owning a football team or a racehorse, don’t like too much sun, prefer Fanta to Champagne, don’t want to buy an island, would have difficulty getting in and out of a sports car, and only need three bedrooms at most (one for us, one for guests and one for the computer). If you have too many bedrooms you end up with visitors, who will eat your food and you will have to be nice to them.

To be honest, it really ought to go to someone who would appreciate it.

I do have a couple of plans in case I win the lottery but they don’t reflect much credit on me. One is to annoy the neighbours on one side by engaging workmen to constantly hammer and drill (we had half an hour of hammering again today) and on the other by planting a tall shady tree.

The second is to buy a large number of second-hand cars and park them where they will cause the most annoyance to the people who have annoyed me by their inconsiderate parking over the years. I reckon forty cars should do it. Even with tax, insurance and paying a few drivers this will be considerably cheaper than owning a racehorse, and much more satisfying.

As you see, being rich would not be good for me.

It’s time I reviewed my charitable giving, but that is a different story, and will be the subject of another, more serious, post.

bank banking black and white budget

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Charity, Children and Christmas

It’s finally here (which is more than you can say about the promised article on the Gibraltar £20 coin), and in just over three hours it will be Christmas. It seems like a lot of effort goes into just one day.

It also seems like a lot of guilt goes into it, as we are emotionally blackmailed into giving money to the homeless, foreign children and donkeys. Now, I have great sympathy for the homeless, and for foreign children who are needlessly blind, or in need of fresh water, but I don’t appreciate the tactics of the charities in swamping the Christmas TV screens with these adverts.

As for the donkeys, I may sound heartless but compared to a child I don’t really see the suffering in the same league. I also think that on charity quiz shows the celebrities should be prohibited from raising money for animal charities, but that’s a personal view and as the RSPCA raised £81 million from legacies last year it seems there are plenty of people who are happy to give.

It’s an interesting document, the RSPCA report, though I notice that , once again, it fails to call for the prosecution of people who deliberately breed faults into dogs in the name of breed standards. Another personal point there. I must be careful not to rant.

I give to two charities monthly One is for children overseas and one for children in this country. I’ve been thinking of transferring the former donation to the homeless in this country, but after seeing the adverts I’ve decided to leave it. I may transfer the second one, as I’ve had words with the charity over the years about their tactics in trying to bully me to give more. It shows the power, and wisdom, of the TV adverts, where one has stopped me withdrawing support, and the other, which doesn’t advertise, might lose out. On the other hand, as it’s the charity and not the kids that have upset me, I may leave that too.

I’m in better financial shape than I have been for the last few years, so I may just have to give more, as I’m beginning to think about the homeless and the Salvation Army. Their adverts at Christmas always make me feel that way and General Booth came from Nottingham so I should support the local man.

And that, via a circuitous route, takes us back to the beginning of the post. It looks like the adverts, irritating, and cynical as they may be, do serve a purpose.

I will now wish those of you who celebrate Christmas good wishes for the holiday. Those of you who don’t celebrate Christmas can have my good wishes too. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, imagine me eating a large lunch, with turkey and Hasselback potatoes, and snoozing in front of a feast of variable quality TV.

Dog Show Prize Medal

Dog Show Prize Medal

 

A Short Note on Difficult Customers

Sometimes on eBay you run up against an immovable object. With over a thousand items listed for sale at any time we are obviously going to make mistakes. In nine months we’ve sent the wrong item twice and had one complaint about quality. That’s less than quarter of a per cent.

We now have another complaint. With hindsight we should have expected it as the buyer asked for a discount before buying. We politely declined but he ordered anyway. We then had a letter of complaint telling us this was the worst lot he’d ever bought and various other things.

We offered him his money back.

He’s just replied that we’ve missed the point. He doesn’t want to send them back for a refund, he wants to struggle selling them and moan that the charity he sells for will lose money. He’s very keen to tell you he sells for charity.

There’s not much you can do to help some people.

Cynicism prompts me to suggest that his next note will contain a threat about negative feedback and another suggestion about discount. After all, he does sell for charity you know…

What Does £32,000,000 Buy? (Part 2)

I’ve been doing more thinking since yesterday, specifically about President Trump’s comments on the “cowardly” security guard at the school shooting.

I thought about two things at that point. One was that if I’d been there I’d have been hiding behind him, so it’s not for me to talk about courage. The other is that a man who avoided service in Vietnam should perhaps follow my lead and not lecture others about lack of courage.

Mainly, however, I’ve been thinking about how to spend £32,000,000.

I could buy 100,000 good used handguns for that money, but I’m English and I wouldn’t know what to do with them.

When Derby built a velodrome recently (which can also host other events) it cost £22 million. Allow a bit for inflation, buying land and some running costs and I don’t suppose there will be much change out of the £32 million.

That’s a shame, as I was hoping the budget would stretch to some fact-finding tours in exotic locations and a couple of years as a “consultant”.  (I have been learning from things I have seen over the last few years).

From what I’ve seen over the years you could set up a nice rugby club with £10 million.

Perhaps an ice rink – from looking at the internet it looks like you might be able to build one for the price of a rugby club. You could even build a rink for long track speed skating, as we don’t have any in the UK. I imagine there’s a good reason for that, such as a lack of long track speed skaters but it’s probably a Field of Dreams situation – if you build it they will come. If not, you’re going to be stuck with a lot of empty ice.

In my mind’s eye I’m seeing a cross between a velodrome and a long track rink. It features quite a long, banked track and features bicycles with studded tyres. It probably won’t catch on. Anyway, you’d probably find it hard to freeze water on a slope.

However, even as that idea fades a picture of men on skis going down a bobsleigh track replaces it…

How about a nice tropical island instead?

At least we now  have a definite answer to the question of money and the Winter Olympics. For £32,000,000 you can buy one Gold and four Bronze medals, plus a lot of heartbreak, character building and learning experiences. And cliches.

Is it worth it? In truth, probably not. We don’t really have the facilities or the snow for most winter sports so it will always be a bit of frippery.  In most cases we aren’t going to derive any lasting benefit from the Games as people generally don’t have access to the facilities needed to train, apart from curling and short track skating.

At this point I really should show the depth of my character and sensitivity and tell you how many starving children I could support if I had £32 million..

I’ve spoken about Mary’s Meals before, a charity that provides breakfast at school for kids in the developing world. They could provide a year of breakfasts for over 2,300,000 kids. That sounds like good value to me.

I’m sure there are many other projects that would benefit too.

Unfortunately for my reputation as a deep and sensitive soul I am having trouble getting past the idea of a tropical island. It’s getting colder at the moment and I’m beginning to think of warmth and sunshine.

 

 

 

Paper Flags

I first became interested in paper charity flags when I saw some in an antique shop in the early 1990s. They were stuck to a card and had obviously been in a scrap book. This rendered them useless to a collector in many ways but it had allowed the previous owner to write dates and information next to them, so they were more interesting in another way.

As you can see – ambulances were a popular subject. The stories of privately raised medical units, and the people who staffed them could be a book in itself. This list  gives you some idea. Add Lawrence Binyon to it. He often gets overlooked.

Over the years I added a few more, even buying a few off a lady who had kept one of each that she had sold for the Red Cross in 1918. She was sitting with her grand-daughter at an antiques fair in a Suffolk village hall. She was happy that the flags had found a good home, and I was happy to have spent a few minutes chatting with a lady who had eighty years of history behind her. That was in the days when it used to be worth stopping when you saw a sign by the roadside.

Horses were popular too. Eight million horses died in the Great War, plus countless mules and donkeys. They had, as far as I know, no strong views on Belgian neutrality, and didn’t get the right to vote in 1918 after their contribution to the war effort. All in all I think they got a raw deal.

There’s a good Word Press site on military horses but I can’t find it at the moment – I’ll have another look tonight.

As with almost everything, I have various parts of the collection scattered in a variety of boxes around the house, and have a patchy knowledge of the subject. If only I’d applied myself to learning more about the subject I might be an expert with a PhD on litter and a TV series on The Things We Threw Away. Stranger things have happened.

I took a few photographs recently, so here are a few examples for you to look at.

Belgians were also popular in the Great War (see Hercule Poirot for example) and ended up here in great numbers. This link told me a lot I didn’t know about them. I’ve seen the odd plaque about, including one in the Nottingham Guildhall but I never really looked into the subject. I believe that Belgians did have strong views on Belgian neutrality – look here and here for two who certainly did.

Frightened by brassieres

Sorry to mention female underwear, but it seems to have been a feature of this week.

First my sister raised the subject.

She also raised the subject of my comments on Mum’s soup. Just to clarify matters – she was a good cook, and cooked a wide variety of what were seen as adventurous food in the 1970s. Her soup also tasted good. It was just that it didn’t look good.

Anyway, back to brassieres. It seems that they can be quite important to women in Africa, because women with underwear are not only more comfortable but are seen as more likely to have male family members, which frees them from the threat of attack.

You’d think they had enough problems with war, famine and bad water.

There are several charities shipping underwear to Africa, which can include “gently worn” bras. This is one of them.

I have all this on the authority of my sister – please don’t think I sit here thinking about underwear.

It became more of a feature when Julia asked me if I could pick up some bras while I was shopping. Being a well-trained husband I said I would. After all, how difficult can it be?

When is was in my early 20s I once went into Marks & Spencers to buy an underslip as a present. I’m still scarred by the memory. I mean, first you feel like you’re being regarded as a pervert.  Then you go snow blind at the amount of nylon. There is only so much underwear you can see before you start staring around in panic. I was helped out by one of the assistants. It was probably not the first time she’d had to help out.

However, I’m older and wiser now, and more a man of the world. I had the size written on a piece of paper, I have done lots of laundry, there was nothing that could go wrong.

Well, apart from some women staring at me like I shouldn’t be there. I confess I panicked.

Next week I will give Julia a lift to the shop and she will buy her own.

Yes, I know many of you will thinking of this clip.