Test Valley School again and again!

I don’t know how many times I’ve written about the Test Valley School bus run but here’s another! Incidentally, typing ‘test valley school bus’ into google.co.uk puts this blog’s pages into positions 3 and 4.

Last week, on Wednesday, as I arrived at the school and opened the doors they charged onto the bus like an army unit trying to seize control of a building. “STOP” was loudly shouted by someone outside of the bus. It was the Deputy Head of the school who made them all get off, line up and enter the bus singly showing their bus passes. Still one kid tried to hide behind another and not show a pass, this kid lost his pass over a month ago and his parents are arguing about the cost they have to pay to replace it. He’s been told, in the presence of teaching staff, that his parents have had sufficient time to replace the pass and that he must pay if he wishes to travel. Very grudgingly he paid. All the time the Deputy Head was there the behaviour was OK. But once I closed the doors and pulled off all hell let loose. I’ve described the bus before as being like a cage full of baboons into which someone has thrown a firework! I still can’t think of any other description which comes to describing how it is. The bell is constantly rung, the windows are being opened and banged shut because the make a loud noise when you do that and worst of all many are standing or running around. Three times I pulled the bus over and told them to sit down and each time as soon as we moved off they were up again. We’ve been told to remove the pass from any child who misbehaves and to hand it into our Operations Manager who will then take the matter up with the school. When I stopped for the fourth time and told them to sit they refused and argued, I asked for their passes and was again refused. They were totally out of control. I used my mobile to call our Operations Manager to inform him of the situation and were were hardly able to converse due to the noise they were making. Then one of the kids tried to open the door so with one hand I was pressing the door close button and holding the ‘phone in the other. Then they forced the door open and about 10 or 12 rushed out into the road – this a winding country main road with no verge. The only funny thing in this was the look on their faces as they wandered about in the road, the look said “we got out, what do we do now”? The Ops Manager could hear all this happening and I asked what I should do. He told me that since they’d forced their way off the bus then to leave them there and continue the journey. That’s what I did.

The next day I had the same duty so it meant I’d be doing the Test Valley School run again. This time the company gave me a bus with CCTV on it so everything could be recorded. When I got to the school things were very different, school staff were there as well as a someone from Hampshire County Council. It seems that the more decent kids were as fed up with situation as the bus drivers are and had named the miscreants to the school and HCC. They had a list of names and I was asked to identify any they missed. As the kids boarded their passes were checked against the list and if their name was on it their pass was taken off them and they given a letter for their parents saying that they were no longer allowed on the bus! I’m not sure exactly how many passes were withdrawn but I guess around 8.

I spoke to the driver who did the run on Friday and he said that without the troublemakers it had been a lovely quiet run.

Been away

You may have noticed that my last reported location on InstaMapper is Scotland, Essy and I have been up there for a few days visiting my son and his partner. We got back (by the skin of our teeth) this morning. I’ve flown countless times and only ever missed one flight before, that was also coming home and out of Edinburgh. That was around 10 years ago and sudden snow had brought the Forth bridge to a standstill and it was from there that we watched our aircraft depart. Today the weather was fine but somehow in my mind I thought the departure time was 60 minutes later than actually printed on the boarding passes! Sudden panic when we saw the queue to get through security but we just had to wind our way round those crowd compressing systems. The large screen read “6-7 minutes to clear security”. My arse!! 15 minutes later and we reached the x-ray scanner, coat off, jacket off, belt off, mobile phone in tray, camera in tray, coins in tray etc. and then holding my trousers up with one hand I walked through the scanner – beep …. beep. “Move over here, lift up your arms”. Had a thorough body search and they couldn’t find anything. “Take your shoes off and put them in a tray”, this tray then went back out and through the x-ray machine without showing anything. So they got out a special box with a footprint painted on it and told me to place my foot on the footprint and they x-rayed my foot and put a metal scanner on it – nothing. “The other foot please”. That also showed nothing. They were convinced (I must assume) that I looked like an Al-Qaeda operative because my carry on bag then needed detailed examination including the taking of swabs from various things in it. Finally we got through at exactly the time the boarding passes said the gate closed! Of course our gate was the furthest one from security so we set off running and got to the gate 10 minutes after it should have closed and saw …….. lots of people waiting for our flight since the plane hadn’t yet arrived!!

Prior to this panic we’d had a great time in Scotland including a lunchtime visit to UK WINNER: Seafish Fish & Chip Shop of the Year 2008/09 yesterday. We also went to the home of golf – St Andrews. On our way back from St Andrews we stopped off at a fishmongers and bought a couple of Arbroath smokies. Just had a thought …… could the presence and aroma of the Arbroath smokies have been the cause of the great interest security had in me? :-)

No pudding until you’ve eaten all your turnips!

Every day I pass a field in which turnips are growing then, suddenly, a flock of sheep appeared in the field restricted to one part of it by electric fencing. At first you could only see the sheep’s backs as they were only a little higher than than the turnip leaves. Slowly the sheep ate all the greenery and about a week ago all you could see were sheep and turnips, no green at all. As the days went by more sheep appeared to be resting than eating and I expected the farmer to extend the electric fence in order to let them get at new turnip greenery. But no, the farmer seemed to be treating these sheep like recalcitrant children who wont eat their Brussel sprouts! They were left in the electric fenced off area to eat the turnips and they are ….. slowly. Sheep seem to prefer turnip green to turnip root. A bit of research pulled up this site which although it’s American seems to describe our local Hampshire situation exactly.

Turnip Pasture for Ewes

Purdue University has conducted research to determine the value of purple-top, white-globe turnips (Brassica rapa) as a grazing pasture for flushing ewes during the fall breeding season. Turnip pasture has a greater animal carrying capacity than conventional grass pasture. How the crop was grown and pastured in the Purdue study, and the results experienced are discussed here.

In late July or early August, seed was mixed with 12-12-12 fertilizer and broadcast onto a prepared seedbed at the rate of 2.5 pounds of seed and 50 pounds of fertilizer per acre. A chain harrow was used to lightly cover the seeds to help initiate germination and reduce loss to birds. Within 60 days, the field was ready to graze.

Because the upper part of the turnip taproot grows above ground, sheep will eat both foliage and roots. To minimize waste, the turnips were strip-grazed by limiting the grazing area with an electric netting fence to approximately 0.5 acre at a time. When each area was completely grazed, the fence was moved to expose an additional half acre. Water and a salt-mineral mixture were supplied free-choice.

Using this strip-grazing system, the pasture provided 45 days (October 1-November 1 5) of forage. However, under favorable weather conditions, this could have easily been extended another 15 days to December 1.

From this study, the following management procedures are tentatively recommended for fall-grazing ewes in turnips:

* 1.Maintain the sheep in approximately 0.5-acre paddocks until turnip foliage and roots are completely grazed. An electric fence or sheep netting works well in making the paddocks.

* 2.Provide salt-mineral mix and fresh water at all times. Since turnips have a high moisture content, ewes will usually consume less water than on grass pasture.

* 3.Ewes grazing unsupplemented turnips should gain 0.1-0.2 pound per day, which is adequate for flushing purposes. Therefore, do not feed additional shelled corn.

* 4.Consider using an adjoining grass pasture, especially during wet weather, for ewes to bed down at night. Shade in either the turnip or the adjoining grass pasture should be provided during hot weather.

* 5.For a grazing period of 35-45 days, use a stocking rate of approximately 20 ewes per acre. The grazing period could be considerably longer if weather conditions are favorable.

* 6.To maximize utilization of land intended for turnip pasture, consider seeding oats and broadleaf rape in early spring, grazing until July, then reseeding to the purple-top, white-globe turnips for fall pasture.

A forage turnip called Tyfon, developed by crossing a stubble turnip with the Chinese cabbage, has a leaf-to-root ratio of 95:5. It can be either cut or grazed and will have one or two regrowths during the summer. Tyfon turnips should be seeded in the early spring when soil conditions permit by drilling 5 pounds of seed per acre at a depth of 1 inch in rows 7-14 inches apart.

Cathy Buckle’s latest letter

Dear Family and Friends,

If you think things are back to normal in Zimbabwe, just walk into a bank. Its something I haven’t done for many months and flipping through my last cheque book reminded me of the mayhem of our banks less than a year ago. My cheque stubbs look like something from a crazy kindergarten. There’s a payment for a telephone bill of four hundred million dollars, another to a dentist for forty one billion dollars. There’s a deposit of four trillion, six hundred billion dollars and another page showing a balance on hand of fourteen trillion dollars. One page is slashed through in red ink with the words : “NB: Aug 08: 10 zeroes removed by Gono.” And
then, in October 2008, also in red ink on a cheque stubb are the words: “Can’t get in bank, queues of thousands.”

It seems like a lifetime ago but in fact its just a year ago that this was happening and now of course Zimbabwe doesn’t even have its own currency – thanks to Zanu PF and Reserve Bank Governor Mr Gono. Zimbabwe’s much talked about sovereignty is long gone when it comes to the economy and now we buy and sell in US dollars and South African Rand. Having been taught since childhood to save, save save, I decided it was time to get back into the banking habit.

I was the only customer in the newly refurbished international bank in my home town last week. Yes I still have an account, they told me after tapping in my numbers, but it’s no longer valid. The balance left there in January 2009 of trillions, or was it quadrillions, is gone – apparently eaten up by devaluation and ledger fees, not converted to ‘real’ US dollar money. A new account number has been allocated to me, the bank said but it’s dormant and requires a deposit of 20 US dollars to bring it to life. No, the bank say, the money left in my account doesn’t qualify to activate the new account, you must deposit REAL money they insist. Once this has been done I enquire about a cheque book – oh no we haven’t got any yet I’m told. And an ATM card – oh please, what planet am I on to be asking such an insane question!

A week later with the account open and activated I take a deep breath and embark on the first withdrawal. I am the only customer in the bank and my shoes click loudly as I cross the polished floor. The lady at the enquiries desk is applying her make up and doesn’t stop as I stand in front of her. She won’t tell me if my expected transfer has arrived. She says I have to fill in a slip before she can tap the number into the computer. She doesn’t have any slips, I’ve got to get them from a man sitting at a desk back at the entry door. I walk back across the banking hall, the man is busy chatting and laughing to someone on the phone. He ignores me until he is finished. I fill in the slip back at the enquiries desk while the lady carries on with her face decorating, mirror in hand, lips pouted.

Finally with a completed cash withdrawal slip in hand I approach the only teller on duty. I am still the only customer but have to wait because the teller is busy – chatting to a friend. At last I’m noticed, the friend steps aside and I am served. My greeting to the teller is ignored. My slip is checked, ticked and stamped and then all the information is copied, written by hand into a ledger. This fools me completely because the electricity is on and the computer screen at the tellers side is working. The teller takes my ID, withdrawal slip and ledger book and disappears. When he reappears he says : ‘What about my commission?’ What commission I ask, saying I wasn’t informed there would be a commission and saying that I know the depositor paid bank transfer fees and commissions at the other end. “No,” he says, you have to pay a commission.” I am then told to deduct the amount and change and counter sign all the amounts written in words and numbers on the now stamped and signed withdrawal slips to allow the bank its commission.

Finally after 17 minutes and now with one other customer in the bank, the money looks like it may be forthcoming. The teller shouts out through the bullet proof glass to someone in the back to bring him bank notes. They only have small denominations it turns out and finally these appear in a locked steel box. Checked and rechecked below the counter, the teller finally pushes a pile of notes across to me. No, I say, I wish you to count the notes to me. “What?” he says. I repeat my request and he rolls his eyes and with an audible sigh, the bank notes are counted to me. 26 minutes later and again the only person in this very well known international bank, I leave.

Will I be back soon – I don’t think so. This is the face of Zimbabwe for investors and tourists, what a shocking disgrace both for a country and an international bank.

Religion gets in the way ….

…. of driving a bus! First it was the no God Bus. Now it’s bus driver suspended for praying which says “An Atlanta bus driver was suspended for insisting his passengers join him in a prayer, his employer says.

Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority spokesman Lyle V. Harris said LeRoy Matthews received a five-day furlough after passengers said he stopped his bus and asked all riders to hold hands and take part in a moment of prayer, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported Saturday.

An unidentified passenger said he was trying to get off the bus Tuesday, when Matthews made his prayer request.

The impromptu prayer session on the public bus lasted at least 4 minutes and the focus of the prayer remained unclear, Harris said.

The Journal-Constitution said Matthews has been a MARTA employee for six years.