The take away coffee culture

On my walk into work the other day I felt thirsty, and so I popped into a cafe to pick up a bottle of water to take into the office with me.

Something struck me as I emerged -- 95 per cent of the people around me, who were making their way to work just like me, were clutching take away cups of coffee. And almost everyone in the cafe had been purchasing take away coffee, with the exception of one guy who was buying a bottle of water, like me.

There is much talk at the moment of Britain's economy being kept afloat by the (relatively new) coffee shop culture, but I've never thought much about this before now. However, it's incredible that so many people seem to purchase expensive coffee to start off their working days. I wonder what's happened to rolling into the office and making a cup of instant while waiting for your computer to start up?

Not that I can talk, of course. I've never been much of a fan of office kitchens and shared milk that is about to go off!

Summer holidays!

Ah, the joy of the summer holidays! I have become a taxi service for my eldest, it seems...

For example, the other day I found myself driving around the countryside picking up a whole gaggle of teenagers before delivering them for an afternoon out in a neighbouring town. One of the other mothers was on pick up duty a few hours later.

My eldest was doing directions for me and, to give her her due, she was pretty good. But I noticed that the quality of the directions decreased as each new friend got into the car...

The conversation amongst the young was riveting. Lots about texting. Lots about fashion. Lots of gossip. All discussed at high volume.

When we reached the other end, excitement levels were so high that everyone forgot to say goodbye to me.

Do you remember being a teenager?!

Le Creuset

We had an interesting mealtime incident the other day. We were celebrating a family birthday with a fondue at home. At the end of the meal, one of the children present at the table looked at the fondue pot and commented, 'That's Le Creuset, isn't it?'

It was.

It struck me as amusing somehow that this young person was familiar with Le Creuset tableware. I mean, how middle class is that?!

The end of term -- and the end of primary school

We finally reached the end of term on Friday. Not only was it the end of term, but it was also the end of primary school for my youngest. So, no more primary school, ever. Hurrah!

However, it's been a hectic run up to the end of primary school. Over the past two weeks, we have had the following: the school disco, sports day, the leavers' performance (two nights), Fun on the Field (a social event that takes place on the school field on a Saturday evening and involves brining a picnic supper and listening to local bands playing), the leavers' picnic, the leavers' service, and the leavers' party (an evening event at the local open air pool, requiring a parent to be present with each child).

I think we're going to need the six weeks' break to recover from the welter of primary school leaving events... Here we come, secondary school -- refreshed, I hope!

Roll up for the circus!

Around this time last year, we went to Giffords Circus for my daughter's birthday. That was our first time at Giffords and we loved it. I wrote a blog post about it at the time.

We now seem to have become regulars, and we went to Giffords Circus again last weekend, this time to celebrate my husband's birthday. We found the show to be as good as last year, if not better. Many of the acts had changed and there were lots of new stunts to thrill and amaze. We particularly enjoyed the acrobatic troupe from Ethiopia, and the "girl with the golden rings". Clown Tweedy remains a constant and he really is fabulous, bringing something quite unique to the role of circus clown, a far cry from the humdrum, tired jokes that usually go with the turf.

After thoroughly enjoying ourselves at the circus, we wandered across the park to the Cotswold Lodge Hotel for a cream tea in the sunshine on their terrace. Lovely!

Partners for life

I heard two women chatting in a cafe the other day. They were talking about a friend who was changing her hours at work. One option for the friend was to work on Friday mornings, but not Friday afternoons. She declined this option, however, because her husband didn't work on Friday afternoons and she "didn't want to spend any time with him".

Similarly, I remember years ago, when I was doing a holiday job at the Royal Mail sorting office, getting talking to a female co-worker who worked full time at the sorting office. She worked nights. Her husband worked there too, but he worked days. She commented that they were like ships passing in the night, but that this situation suited her perfectly as she didn't want to spend time with her husband.

I wonder how people end up in such sad, unsociable relationships, especially in this day and age when it is usual to test the waters by living together first. I am lucky enough to have a husband who I actively enjoy spending time with -- and that seems to me how things, ideally, should be. After all, your spouse is meant to be your partner for life and someone who you don't talk to and don't want to spend time with isn't much of a partner. I know that my life would be much less rich in the absence of the relationship that I have with my husband.

HMRC and telephone targets

I listened with interest to the article on the news this morning about HMRC failing to answer more than a quarter of phone calls last year. I have to do the dreaded self-assessment tax return each year and so have, on a number of occasions, called up HMRC. Luckily, I have always managed to get through quickly and have had my questions answered -- although I haven't generally been ringing at peak times, e.g. just before the deadline for self-assessment.

What interested me most in the article, though, is that HMRC has set itself a target to answer 80 per cent of calls in the future. This just struck me as bizarre. Surely the target should be to answer 100 per cent of calls!

Part of my day job involves responding to (often very complex) queries that come in relating to academic research and ethics. Admittedly, this is on a tiny scale compared to the queries that HMRC receives. However, we manage these queries with two part-time, overworked members of staff and we answer (note: do answer, not aim to answer) one hundred per cent of those queries. I can't imagine how our employer would react if we said we were setting ourselves the target of replying to 80 per cent of queries in the future!

But back to HMRC. What are the remaining 20 per cent of people whose calls aren't answered meant to do? Not pay their tax bills? I can't quite see that one flying with HMRC...