Ann Allan : What is Culture?

1.The arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively.

image2.The ideas, customs, and social behaviour of a particular people or society.

The above are the popular definitions of culture. The word culture has become a dirty word in Northern Ireland, misused, misunderstood and sensitive. I’m not out to offend anyone by my observations as I come from a mixed community background since 1970. I also grew up in a village, before I crossed the great community divide, where there was a toleration on both sides of parades, both on the 12 th July and the 15 th August. A bonfire was a small family occasion where a few logs burned in the middle of a safe non contentious area. No pallets, no tyres, no flags or emblems, no election posters and no ‘holy’ statues.
Move forward 45 years when one would expect that as a society we would have moved forward. But no! Ask one of the bonfire builders why they are building a bonfire and you’ll get the cliché, It’s our culture. Should they be pursued and questioned what they meant by culture I doubt you would get a lucid or reasoned answer.
We hear the cry respect our culture. I’m sorry culture to me doesn’t entail:

The paving stones on the street painted red, white and blue,
Flags flying from every lamp-post for weeks, some in tatters.
Flags of other nations flying. What is the flying of the Palestinian and Israeli flag all about?
To improve the situation and to move towards some semblance of toleration. Let’s start with both sides removing any flags that:
1.Are from other countries
2. Are from paramilitary groups which are threatening to any sections of the community.
This year we have even seen the swastika and the confederate flag. These can only have been put up to offend some sections of our community. The flags are also flown in areas where the community doesn’t want them but that doesn’t seem to be taken into consideration.
In some areas where bonfires are built way in advance of the twelfth, the streets are littered with rubbish both before and after the 11th night. How can anyone take a pride in their area with this being allowed to happen? I feel for those house proud residents who have skimped and saved to buy their houses.  We have seen this year how residents had to move from their homes in Chobam street to accommodate a bonfire. Result people  inconvenienced. Rate payers foot the bill. Fire service on duty to make sure houses not burned down. This is not culture.
Speak out against this situation and you are likely to fall foul of the organisers and some members of the loyalist community. I have friends in the loyalist community so please don’t say I am biased.
So if you want me to endorse your culture, take the sectarianism out of the picture on both sides, promote the good aspects like the bands and the encouragement of young musicians. Don’t turn our streets into what looks like public dumping areas. Enjoy the bonfires. Remove the sectarian aspect and it could turn out to be an occasion without ridicule and rancour.

Anon: Enlightenment.

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Indoctrinated from birth is what was done.
The religion of mine was a Catholic one.
I went with the flow and sat on the fence,
Though deep down inside it didn’t make sense.

Told to believe in one god – persons three.
Born a sinner, required to be free.
Adam and Eve – they were to blame
They committed the sin, ignited the flame.

If I were good, heaven would be mine,
But if I were bad, hell for all time.
Purgatory an option – still there was hope.
If people prayed for my soul, then there was scope.

The stories of prophets – and virgin birth,
Jesus, miracles, resurrection from death,
Ascension to heaven, for his mother as well,
Forgiveness of sins, to my priest I did tell.

Rejection of satan I had to recite.
Said prayers in the morning and at bed-time at night.
If I broke the rules and died in sin
I’d be gone to the flames, the devil would win.

I now feel free in thought and will,
To discover, reason, learn … and still …
I know what’s good – what’s right and what’s not.
It’s innate in me, a human thought.

Gone are the stories and myths in my mind,
Written in a book for a different kind
Who just didn’t know and tried to make sense
In a world of no science, without evidence.

It’s taken me time to learn and be true,
To think for myself and to accept my view,
To continue to search, to grow and evolve,
And to remember there’s questions that I will not solve …

… but that’s OK!

(Anonymous)image

Anon: girlinawig ( Part 2)

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March 2015:  Second lot of chemo was on Thursday p.m. I’d called into work for an hour in the morning and had a laugh, which was a real boost.

6 p.m. Chemo round 2. This time I used a hand warmer I’d got stashed away for footy spectating . Seemed to work as the nurse got in my vein first time. Big relief as I don’t want a PICC line fitted that needs to be regularly dressed by a nurse.

Asked about Monday’s blood test results. Apparently all my scores are those of a normal healthy person. Neutrophils too, which is a relief. These drastically drop during chemo so the higher they are to start with, the better. If they drop v low, you can end up in hospital just because of a sniffle. Came home, ate a bit of dinner. Not too bad.

Friday : Felt a bit more sick in the early hours but better after a morning nap. Even got across the threshold this time. Last time I didn’t go out of the house from the Thurs night until the Wed.
Walked up the street to collect my boys from their friends. My lovely friend had brought them home from school and fed them. Walked them back up the street for her to take them to a school disco. Then lovely friend 2 dropped them off. Then I took them up to MIL for a sleepover as hubby was out. Was all planned in case I felt as ill as the last time. Except I didn’t!

Saturday: Got up, not feeling so sick. Not got a bright red shiny face this morning like last time.

Phew!

Saturday was great. Pootled about in the car taking youngest to his friends to play. Even nipped into the Spar garage for stuff. Got my Neulasta injection from the District Nurse…once she’d worked out with her colleague how to open it. Had never seen one before. Yet it would be cheaper for the NHS than an admission to hospital for a few days. Should be given as standard.

Sunday:  BLEURGHHHH.  Neulasta side effects kicked in. Sore in every bone. From top of my spine right down to my shins. But that was it working, forcing new blood cell growth. Fuzzy headed all day. In fact felt like that for a few days. Luckily this coincided with a trip over by my parents .

I napped. I did nothing. They pottered about fixing and cleaning stuff. Things I hadn’t been up to doing in months what with surgeries etc. . It was brilliant to be looked after.

JUNE 2015: First three cycles of FEC went by without too much bother. In the week following chemo I took it easy and while I didn’t feel fantastic, I didn’t feel horrendous either.

Yes there were side effects but they were manageable.

The last three cycles I had were Docetaxol. I assumed that I’d (relatively) breeze through this too.

LOLIMG_0630

So…less nausea but I really thought I was going to die from the pain. Every single part of me hurt. No painkiller could touch it. Couldn’t even cry as it hurt to move my cheeks. Even the duvet hurt my legs. Three days like that. It might have been four. It’s very hazy. I spent Easter week in bed. Finally called my nurse for advice and she brought me in. After a quick blood test, I was given antibiotics and told my neutrophils were very very low, surprisingly. If I developed a temperature I had to go directly to A&E to get admitted.

I  took a couple of antibiotics over the day and sat watching my temp go up. And up. I figured the trip alone to A&E would make me worse as I couldn’t get downstairs again at that point. If I was admitted I’d get antibiotics anyway….so I hedged my bets. Very risky. But it was fine. My temp started to come down at 3am. The next day I felt like a different person.

Side effects, apart from the pain and need for antibiotics, were pretty spectacular. My hands swelled up and were fiery hot and red. After a few days of this the skin began to peel off in big strips. like sunburn peel but much, much bigger pieces.   Lovely.

IMG_0631Anyway scab handed I went to my next checkup, hoping I’d be too ill to go ahead with chemo. Apparently not, my blood levels were ok. However the consultant said he was reducing the chemo dose by 20 % due to my severe reaction. It had packed a pretty hard punch he said, then smiled. Yay!

Last 2 Docetaxols

Rough.

That’s all.

Had been given a co-codamol and brufen schedule to keep ahead of the pain. This helped a bit. Not totally. Mouth sores weren’t as bad, though I ended up with scabby peeling feet instead of scabby hands.

My parents came over to stay for a week each time, given how ill I’d been the last time. This was amazing. I could barely sit up in bed for a few days let alone eat or function. I let them pamper me and hid as best I could how unwell I was from the kids. Childhood comfort food like eggy bread, hit the spot

For the penultimate cycle I was offered tramadol to see if it helped. So I took one in a vain attempt to help pain wise. Never ever again.

I woke up crawling on the bathroom floor, trying to clean it with my hands. I was convinced I had weed all over the floor and bed (not true). When I came to enough to realise I was dreaming, I went back to bed. As I sat down I was pulled onto the bed by hundreds of pairs of hands that I started fighting off. All I remember after that is fighting demons and flying and more fighting.

Yeah.

As my Consultant said afterwards, You’ll never make a junkie.

Suede Head

JUNE 2015: Never fully lost it. Was never a shiny baldy. I kept a v fine layer of grey patchy fuzz. Lost eyebrows, eyelashes and everywhere else though. I am a dab hand at fake eyebrows now. The first pic is about 4 weeks after the last chemo.

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The pic below is tonight. That is 6 weeks exactly since the last chemo.

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It might be coming back with a lot of grey, but it is coming back.

To be continued.

https://www.breastcancercare.org.uk

Anon : girlinawig (Part One)

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First attempt at blogging. I’m new to all this. But hey ho, will give it a go. My aim is to write about life, right now.

A bit about me : Aged 43, wife, mum of two boys, charity worker and all round busy person. All very mundane.

Why I’m writing this? Well it’s a type of journal. A place to whinge and feel better. Whinge a little. Not too much. Promise.
To set the scene….

Sept 2014.

On my birthday I felt a lump. Yes, a lump. Bit of a rubbish birthday present. Didn’t tell anyone as my folks were over visiting. Plus nothing was actually wrong. Really.

After a few days it disappeared with some bruising, but I went to my Doctor anyway. He said to come back if in a few weeks,  if needed, which luckily I did as I wasn’t happy. He suggested I go to my local cancer charity who do mammograms as there was nothing he could refer me on for as ‘urgent’ . It would mean I wouldn’t get a scan til March 2015 at least , given the pressures on our NHS.
Totally had forgotten the decent health insurance we have via my husbands work which would have done it sooner, but I was seen within two weeks at the charity.
My mammogram was easy enough but something on this got me referred to the one stop breast clinic at the Regional Cancer Centre. The letter said four out of five such referrals were fine. I assumed I’d be one of the four.

December 2014

I spent a morning getting poked and prodded, more scans, an ultrasound and a biopsy. In between which I accidentally saw WAY too many elderly lady boobs in the waiting room, due to the ill-fitting gowns.

Then a meeting with the Consultant. The waiting room emptied. Husband kept saying ‘ it’ll be fine’. Last patient of the day. Consultant came in, I saw her expression….and I just knew.

Small tumour. .04-what-is-that12cm
But…early stages. Type of cancer that responds to hormone treatment.
All in all, very treatable.

But still.
I’m not ill I thought.

JANUARY 30 2015

As surgery approached I began to panic about the general anaesthetic. Silly I know but I was convinced I wouldn’t wake up. Ridiculous anxiety .

Anyway, got to the day ward for 7am. On my own in a taxi, so the kids wouldn’t be disturbed or know anything was awry.
Starving.
Anyway met 2 chatty wonderful women , we collectively rallied each other’s spirits and moaned about being hungry.

There was no surgery in the morning due to theatres being inspected. While inconvenient, it was good as I knew they would be spotless and everyone would be on their toes.

9am. A trip for me and an older lady up to radiography to receive a tracer isotope. This was to enable the surgeon to locate and remove sentinel nodes -lead lymph nodes that can show if cancer has begun to spread.

How they do it it is, in hindsight pretty funny. But at the time it was excruciating.
A portly bow tied gent introduced himself with a radiographer.
After which , he injected the side of my nipple with radioactive gunge.
That wasn’t the worst. The worst bit was then having to massage my own boob, for a couple of minutes , under the watchful eye of said Doctor.

The scan after that , was pretty easy.

Got back to the ward and the other lady came and sat on my bed. She was a bit out of sorts bless her. She said “I’ve never done anything like that in front of a man. Never in all my puff” .

Time rolled on. We could smell the nurses lunch. Even the magazines we had between showed page after page of food. Humour got us through.
Then one by one people were wheeled off. I was the only one left. It was 4 p.m. I knew I had to recover enough by 8p.m. or I’d have to be admitted as the ward was only a day ward.

4.20p.m.. Finally wheeled down. Pretty panicky and my heart rate went up to 140. Last thing I remember is the rapid ‘ping ping ping’ of the monitor.

Woke up crying at 7p.m.. Has happened before with anaesthetic. But partly relief too. Made it down to the ward and forced the mandatory tea and toast down. Walked out the door, 8p.m. on the dot, having put a bit of make up on.
We picked up the kids from MILs, and that was that. Almost normality.

Well. I was told all along that I’d lose my hair. Never quite believed it. Joked that no doubt it would fall out for  Valentine’s day.images

Day 11:  Had scalp tingling on day 11 after chemo. Having looked it up I knew it was a sign that the epirubicin (part of the FEC treatment) was working to blast all the fast dividing cells. Unfortunately some of the fastest cells are in your hair follicles.
Day 13:  Ran my hands through my hair. About 20 strands came out. Ran them through some more. More came out.
This happened through the day. Was surprised at how low I felt about it.
I know it’s temporary. I know I am choosing to have the treatment to ensure I have another 40 years hopefully.
But…..

Day 14:  A lot more. Going to have to arrange to collect the wig.
Going to have to tell the kids too.
Mood isn’t great tbh. But I’ll get there once I get my head round it. No pun intended.

Day 15: Run my fingers through and loads comes out. I definitely have less all over. Ordered a spare wig online. Hopefully will arrive in time.

Sunday: Out in absolute handfuls. Looks straggly. Pony tailed it all day to hide from the kids. This resulted into a third of said ponytail coming out when I took out the bobble.
Wishing I’d taken the plunge and got it short before it came to this. But that would have meant explaining things at school gates. I.e. Drastic haircut. Then sudden long hair lol.

Monday: Went to get my wig fitted. Booked myself into a Look Good Feel Better thing run at the Macmillan Centre. And a makeup demo. Mainly because you get freebie products but also shown how to draw on eyebrows. Which will be useful.

As I was collecting the wig, a teenage girl was coming out, with her mum and wigs. I will never complain about having to wear it. Imagine being 14 or so and having to wear one. Doesn’t bear thinking about.

So..kept it on from the fitting. Nipped round Sainsburys. Did school run. Nobody even noticed. Not even the kids. My spare cheaply wig from Annabelle”s Wigs online arrived today too. Only £26 and actually looks like the posh one.

Wednesday: Not much left. Straggly long bits and handfuls and handfuls out. I got a hairdresser to cut it v short. He says clippers would be too traumatic. After this I looked pretty good. Patchy but good . Wigs fitted better too.

Couple of days of jumping out of bed to put my hair on before my boys saw. Took it’s toll though. I had to tell them so they wouldn’t be upset if they came into our bed for cuddle. I said ” Mummy’s had some medicine like strong antibiotics. It’s made my hair fall out a lot, but it will grow back in May’. They accepted all this, didn’t ask why. No further questions. Told them their teachers knew, if they ever wanted to talk about it, but that it was just a side effect.MARGIE WON Phew!

https://www.breastcancercare.org.uk

To be continued

Ann Allan: What’s Happenning?

Those of you who have been following my ‘journey’  to  get my new teeth will be surprised to hear that to date I still haven’t got my new knashers . A very long process I hear you say. You are so right. I’ve forgotten what it is like to have bottom teeth and I’ve even started dreaming about having a mouth full of teeth that are too big for my mouth.  As I had to have bone grafts the process took three months longer as the grafts had to ‘take’. I now have two silver caps where the implants will go and the endgame is insight. I could give yer man in James Bond imagesa run for his money. Interviewed by Paula Geraghty at the recent Equal Marriage March in Belfast I cringed as I listened to myself and my newly acquired lisp. Oh for the pleasure of sinking my teeth into …well into anything actually.

Speaking of the Equality March I was very proud to walk along with 20,000 others in Belfast demanding that equal marriage should be available in NI, as it is in the rest of the UK and the ROI. I’m sure all of us know someone who is gay, whether a family member or a friend. I want them to feel that they are considered equal by the state and have the option to be married. If you don’t want gay marriage my advice is marry someone straight.

Periscope seems to have caught on. Pioneered by Basil McCrea, the number of subscribers has increased.  It is amazing to tune in to different parts of the world and interact with a different cultures in foreign countries for a few minutes.  Here in Norn Iron, the nightly curtain call with Basil ( and his curtains) attracts a respectable number of viewers. I have reservations as to how effective it is. I dislike the fact that it is basically a one way interaction.  By the time viewers have typed and sent an answer the conversation has moved on.  Hosts can IMG_0276easily become distracted and a lot of time is wasted with trivia. It also allows trolls to post comments. But I enjoy getting a look in at an occasion that I would otherwise not have the opportunity to take part in. So keep periscoping Basil.  You’re a pioneer. I’m sorry Basil that I tend to be one of those who distract you.

Unbelieveable  that we are half way through the year. Holiday time again. I have already told you I hate holidays,  so we opted for a couple of days in Portmarnock.  The ROI football team were eating in the restaurant when we arrived and Roy Keane isn’t as grumpy as he is made out to be as he smiled and said hello when we met him in the corridor. We booked a room with a view so hubby could watch the golf when he wasn’t playing golf. Imagine our disappointment when we got to our room to find it was on the ground floor, the window was covered in heavy net curtains and children were playing outside the window.  The second floor room we were moved to was bigger and the view was spectacular and should have been the room we were offered in the first place. A complaint was made and has been acknowledged.  On the second day after a sleepless night I realised I hadn’t packed essential medication.  So we booked out at 6 p.m. and headed home.  Bliss, my own bed and my own pillow.  Holidays are definitely not for me.

As I write the situation re the ‘fantasy budget ‘ remains a mystery. I’ve no idea what’s happening but we seem to have once again stepped back from the brink. Those of you of a certain age will remember Hugo Patterson in the seventies. During the workers strike we spent a lot of time on the brink waiting for the electricity to go off.

The tour of the North took place last weekend. I’ve never heard as much drivel on talkback when Nelson ‘ double glazing’ McCausland and Gerry ‘ Land Rover’ Kelly were debating marching.  For goodness sake grow up. Life is too short for putting so much store on such trivialities.   I hear that the March passed off peacefully. However I believe there was some hugging going on which hasn’t been well received.  As my old granny would have said it would make a cat laugh.😺 Make love not war

Discussing my granddaughter’s new school a little voice piped up from the back seat of the car ‘ I think I’ll probably drop out of school before I get to the grammar,  granny’  said Jack aged 7. He also tried telling me that he had been allowed to look at his report before it was sent out and he hadn’t got a good mark in maths. This is nonsense, of course,  but he was obviously preparing us a poor result. Budding psychologist I think. Got his report today. An A in maths.

On a more serious note on Monday I had a fund-raising tea party in order to raise money for Marie Curie. Cancer has touched many members of my family and some of my friends over the last few years and more recently over the last few months. We all hope we won’t need the services of Marie Curie but if we do they are there to offer support both to the patient and the family. So if you have an odd pound you can donate it to my Just Giving page at:

http://click.contact.justgiving.com/?qs=1613965a561de2b5fa3acf0b04a5265d5780a552fff89b5d291314ad4dfc03ccc8e54a796d845f2d

I would like to thank Eamonn Holmes for sending a lovely message wishing the tea party a success. Nice to see he hasn’t forgotten where he came from unlike other so-called personalities

What will the next six months bring.? Well we can be sure of Halloween and Christmas. Both come round so quickly I’m considering leaving the decorations up.  Maybe Paul Girvan will win NI’s Personality of the Year. Gerry Adams will remember he was in the IRA  ( allegedly ) and Pastor McConnell will become a Muslim and follow sha..sharar…sharira  .. law! And maybe Sinn Fein will accept the Fantasy budget. Oh wait? They just have!

Today I got my new car. I had a 4-year-old Citröen that was due its MOT so I took it in to be serviceIMG_0597d.  I crossed the road to the Toyota showroom and I fell in love. It was there waiting for me, a little Aygo excite and it certainly excited me. Top of the range, automatic, reversing sensors, keyless. It was love at first sight. It’s bright orange with a black roof and will get a second look, not just for the car itself but for the white-haired old granny with the large sunglasses behind the wheel trying and hopefully recapturing her youth. Ah well, you only live once. I won’t be taking any ‘contentious ‘ routes!

Just added the photos below cause I like them.

es.wordpress.com/2015/06/img_0274-e1435084322994.jpg”> View from M3[/caption]If you enjoyed re

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Shandon Park Golf Club.
Shandon Park Golf Club.

Ann Allan: Jim Wells, Time to go?

Thinking over the recent debacle over Jim Wells’s statement , I would like to make the following points.
We nearly all have been where Mr. Wells is now, a relative or close friend fighting for life. It’s a distracting, debilitating and extremely stressful time for those who are waiting for a happy outcome. However, if as member of the general public, you or I, had made such a statement in the course of our work, I don’t think we would be too long in our jobs. I would like to suggest that the DUP has failed Mr Wells in their duty of care in not relieving him from his post on a temporary basis. He has said the reason for his crass remark was due to his mind not being entirely on what he was doing or saying. What other major decisions as our Minister of Health will he have to make in the future and will his mind be elsewhere when he takes that decision?  Were his true feelings revealed when he was under pressure?  I wish his wife well and hope she recovers soon.  I do however think  Mr. Wells position is now untenable.

Fighting Homophobia

imageI think I have always known that my Grandson was gay. From a very early age he loved to dress up. He hated getting dirty and he didn’t like playing outdoor games. He tended to make friends with girls as he found boys too rough. It was at the back of my mind, as I compared him to his cousin, that he might be gay. His school friends loved the rough and tumble of games. They didn’t care how muddy or dirty they got. And at that young age they hated girls. So it didn’t come as a great surprise when I discovered that my Grandson had announced to his parents that he was gay. He cried as he told them and his parents cried with him. Not because they had any problems with him being gay but because they knew the prejudice he was going to have to deal with as he made his way through life. There was the worry as to whether he would be bullied at school, attacked by homophobes or whether he would be ostracised by relations and so-called friends.

His grandfather and I have no problems with his sexuality and like his parents and close family will love and support him in every way. I’m writing this so that those who say that homosexuality is a lifestyle choice need to think again. My Grandson has not chosen his lifestyle.  Christians who condem homosexualitiy as a sin should consider that if you do believe in God, then you obviously believe that he is a caring and loving God.  Who are you to judge? I seem to remember a quote from the bible which says ” Judge not, lest you be judged” So when you spout your anti gay rants in future, or you vote for conversion therapy, remember young adults like my Grandson may be listening. What you may say, could, through his naïevite, affect the way he feels, and could scar him for life.

Please also tell your children not to taunt or bully anyone  who is different. He/she may not have come to terms with their sexuality and are confused. Please don’t make it worse for them. I am asking this as a fellow parent and grandparent and more importantly as a fellow human being. So we will love our Grandson, we will treat him as we treat his his cousins and we will try to protect him from narrow-minded religious bigots who live in this country and from the religious fundamentalists who unfortunately still hold power in Northern Ireland.

Author’s name has been withheld to protect identity.

http://rainbow-project.org

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Ann Allan: Open Government Network NI.

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Citizens are demanding that the state should be their servant and that information that governments hold should be open for everyone to see.”

Rt Hon.Francis Maude MP Last year I wrote  a blog on vixenswithconvictions.com about my reasons for joining the open Government Network in Northern Ireland. They are probably different reasons why others joined and I won’t go over them again. You can  however read  them here…  http://vixenswithconvictions.com/2014/10/25/ann-allan-why-im-going-to-malone-house/

Suffice  to say that I hadn’t a clue what I was getting in to but as they say in Norn Iron I went along for the craic. I didn’t know what it was about nor what I was expected to do.  So I did what any sane person would do and for the first couple of meetings and kept my mouth shut.  I was afraid that I might say something stupid but I soon learned a lot of what was being discussed was common sense. When I got round to stuttering my first question  and nobody batted an eye lid I knew that this was something to which I could contribute. Age and experience are a great asset when facing an unknown scenario. So what in simple terms is it all about and how can we as citizens find out what decisions are being taken on our behalf? I see it as an attempt to gain insight as to what goes on behind the closed doors of Stormont and our local councils. I think our elected representatives need to be much more accountable for their actions? Don’t you?'I've been elected by the people to use their mandate for my personal gain while convincing them it's in their own best interest.' We have seen from recent television programmes such as Spotlight that we certainly need more transparency as to where tax payers money is going.  Do you ever stop and wonder “Why in the world would any one decide that” or ” I’d love to have been a fly on the wall when that decision was made.” At the launch in Malone House Felicity Huston brought to our attention a subject that caused some amusement but is a problem for many residents of East Belfast. Dogs that for years were allowed to roam freely in the Stormont estate were without rhyme or reason now confined to walking on the lead. Various attempts were made to find out  from those that made the decision what the reasoning was behind it but to date to no avail.  Not a matter of life and death I hear you, say but a major bugbear for the dog walkers of the area and of course the dogs.IMG_2396 We had a very successful launch on the 5th November.  Don’t think there was any significance in the date. We hope to use more persuasive methods than gunpowder to encourage our MLAs to be more open with their citizens. There was an excellent turnout.  Simon Hamilton, the Northern Ireland finance minister,even came along. He conjured up a picture of men in white coats when he informed us that he had set up a Public Sector innovation lab. This ‘lab’ would explore the feasibility of open policy making.  Ok, my hopes were somewhat dashed as I thought the men in white coats could be planning an intervention at Stormont. Peter Osborne and Paul Braithwaite both of whom have been responsible, with others, for progressing the open government network were present . Peter had carried out face to face interviews with those local politicians who had agreed to take part in a survey regarding awareness of open government action plans.  However out of 22% of those interviewed only 4% were actively involved.  Sort of reinforces the notion that they want to make decisions with the least possibly scrutiny. IMG_2397There have been some very productive meetings since then and a temporary steering committee has been set up. We are in the process of choosing office bearers and also identifying an organisation to take on the function of a network secretariat over the next two years at least. We are still at the embryonic stage but hope to give birth to a fully formed and effective organisation. We need assistance to grow and strengthen. This is how you can help.  We need volunteers.  We will need help in spreading the word. How? I hear you asking. Well, maybe you would like to go along to your local council meetings and tweet what is happening. Perhaps you are good at communicating information and could attend our workshops or give talks to local organisations. You may have ideas to promote and support the network.  IMG_2402 So if you would like to help make our elected officials more accountable to you as a citizen and you have a few hours to spare, or if you just want to know more, click on to http://wp.me/p2MI58-1S for more information.

http://youtu.be/eDCKGqA3eq0

http://www.nicva.org/article/new-open-data-culture-northern-ireland  Andrea Thornberry

Ann Allan – My Thoughts On Open Government Network NI Launch

Ann Allan: Why Cavemen Didn’t Have Sore Backs

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I have a feeling that stone age man didn’t suffer from back pain. Why would I think that? Well there were, I think, many advantages to life in a cave. Lets face it compared to what modern man has to put up with, life must have been a doddle. My reasons are:

1. The absence of social media meant that there was no sitting hunched up over a computer,  iPad or iPhone waiting for a new follower or for someone to retweet or favourite your tweet. You just stood outside your cave and surveyed the land. A few ‘ugs’ to a passer-by and all was well. No backache involved.IMG_2394 2

2. There were no supermarkets. The pain that has to be endured to carry fully laden bags of food that will be out of date before you can eat them is excruciating. Even worse if you can’t get your car parked on the pavement in front of the main door. The pain as the plastic bag wraps its way round your fingers, cutting off the blood supply. In the Stone Age all you had to do was wander out with your bow and arrow, shoot a  mammoth, drag it back to your cave, dissect it and salt the parts to see you through the winter.

3. Think about those ‘soft, mould to your body ‘ mattresses. You sink in and your body becomes really relaxed.  Result: you don’t want to get out of bed in the morning. Stone Age man plonks himself down on a mammoth skin on the floor. Next morning can’t wait to get up and out in search of something to do.

4. High heels. Have you seem the heels some of us have to walk on? They look as if they wouldn’t support a fly but still we balance precariously, risking the damage we are doing to our backs. All in the name of fashion. We are martyrs to the discomfort. Our cave dwelling cousins wrapped their feet in a piece of leather or went barefoot as nature intended. As my old granny used to say if we were meant to wear shoes we’d be born wearing Jimmy Choos.

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5. There were no Stone Age pubs. No lifting heavy pint glasses to down a pint of Guinness or beer. Puts a strain on the back all that heavy lifting.
6. Almost every house has a comfortable couch, usually positioned in front of a TV. Couch potatoes are those that slouch in chairs not moving for long periods. Bad posture causes bad backs. Cave dweller on the other hand soon got fed up looking at the cave walls and went for a walk.
7. Carry outs and fast food outlets can cause back pain. The extra weight attributed to eating fast foods puts pressure on the spine. I imagine the diet of our Stone Age ancestors, mostly berries and an occasional piece of meat, kept then thin and fit.

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8. Have a cold, pop a pill. Have a headache, pop a pill. Thankfully  we don’t need to suffer, but medication, especially steroids can weaken bones resulting in, you guessed it, sore backs. Mrs Caveman had a good excuse when she said she had a headache, she really did.
So there it is. My belief is that  ancient man may have been better off in some ways but I think I’d rather put up with my sore back than go back to living in a cave.

Ann Allan: My Update of my Round up of 2014 !!

Now that we are a few days into 2015 and all the Christmas decos are down I thought I’d have a look back at 2014. This was the year when I discovered I had one leg shorter than the other, one foot shorter than the other and as a result am now listing to one side. I don’t have to list but I feel I need to compensate. I constantly bump into people in the street as I look in shop windows checking how upright I actually am. My only problem is standing on a slope.images-3

Those of you who have followed previous blogs will know that I am in the process of having implants. No, not breast implants, teeth; I’m getting new teeth. It has been a long process since that first consultation when I heard the bad news that to have the new teeth I had to have all the bottom teeth extracted. You can read what led up to this in my previous blog…………. But on a cold day in November I had the job done. Two had previously been removed. The seven remaining all came out in one go. No knocking out for me. I was a brave little soldier and had them out under local anaesthetic. There were enough injections to ensure I stayed frozen for at least five hours but at least there was no pain. As soon as they were out the dentist shoved a temporary plate in on top of the raw gums assuring me I would get used to them. I have to admit they looked well but felt awful. As a result they are more often out than in and I look more like my granny every day. She’s been dead for 50 years so it’s not a pretty picture. I had great difficulty eating over Christmas so one benefit is that I didn’t put on too much extra weight. Roll on 19 January for next stage of procedure.

Update: Had procedure on 19th January. Got base for implants inserted. Had a mouthful of stitches for two weeks. Hoping to finally get teeth in May. I now speak with a lisp and have the most awful diet as I couldn’t manage the temporary teeth. Roll on May or I’ll be the size of a house.

 2014 saw the setting up of the Opengovnetworkni. Got involved by chance but it felt good to be part of it. Too much is hidden from the public re decisions taken by our elected representatives. We, as members of civil society need to be much more involved in decisions and our aim is to try and change things with much more openness and accountability. I have made many new friends through the open network and feel I have, in my own way, contributed to it. Still time to get involved at @opengovni

Update: The newly elected steering committee are having their first meeting on Thursday. I’ve never been on a steering committee before so lots to learn.

We had elections in 2014. I enthusiastically campaigned on the doorsteps for NI21. No need to go into what happened now. I’ll save that for a later date as there is much more to come out as to what actually happened. Watch this space!!

I became a blogger in 2014 for Vixens. I try to be honest and forthright in what I write. Thank you to those who follow and comment. I’ve already told you how my life was devoted to my family for a number of years and I had little interest in what was going on in the ‘outside’ world. I felt that this was my lot and I would never again be a valuable member of society. I feel in my own small way I have achieved something and to the 604 genuine followers I have built up on Twitter, thank you.

Update: I have set up my own Blog site called Chatter.IMG_2391

I don’t know about you but I feel Christmas comes round quicker and quicker every year. It seems like I have just taken the Christmas decorations down when it’s time to put them up again.

Then there are the presents. This Christmas was different from others. When I asked the grandchildren what they wanted for Christmas they couldn’t come up with anything. Why? Because they have everything. They have iPods, iPhone, iPads, Macs, TVs, DVDs, play stations etc., etc. etc. the Wi-Fi flying around their houses must be horrendous. So I bought some surprise presents. Now I don’t know about you but I resent the waste of Christmas wrapping paper. For a few years I used those fancy Christmas bags that cost a couple of pounds in M&S but they were past their best so I looked for an alternative. The alternative was a large black bag, into which I put the pressies unwrapped. When it came to the present giving I dived into the bag and produced a present. Instant gratification, no unwrapping. Everyone saw what the other got and there was no torn paper to gather up. That will go down a treat next year too.

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Christmas cards are another bugbear. I haven’t sent any for years. Instead I put a note on Facebook wishing everyone a Happy Christmas and informing them that I’ve put the money that I would have spent on cards and stamps into buying goats. Over the years I’m sure I’ve bought a herd and I have the satisfaction of knowing that a family in Africa will benefit from those goats for years to come. As I tipped the many cards I still receive in the recycling I thought ‘what a waste of money.’

Christmas was a low-key affair. After the present giving on Christmas Eve it was just him and me for dinner on Christmas day. Craigantlet turkeys supplied a delicious Turkey. The fridge was packed. We could have survived for weeks on what was purchased for just the two of us. We wouldn’t normally eat orange and carrot jelly, but we just might so I thought we’d better have it just in case. Actually it was quite refreshing with the turkey salad. With no one to exchange niceties we both pigged out on the reclining chairs with a box of chocs and fell asleep. Bliss.

So now it’s over for another year. What for 2015? As we move into the New Year there is a campaign being mounted to save the Floral Hall. In the late sixties I attended a Manfred Mann concert. It was a freezing night as I recall but the hubby-to-be borrowed the father’s car and we drove up the Antrim Road in style. He was supposed to be playing badminton in Newry but I gave him five shillings towards the petrol and he diverted to Belfast. Mike D’Abo had taken over from lead singer Paul Jones.Unknown-3

The hall was beautiful and I remember the ceiling in particular but at 19 I didn’t appreciate its grandeur. I was in front of the stage and more interested in the group. Not sure whether we went outside for a ciggie or a snog but the doorman wouldn’t let us back in again. We ended up listening to the rest of the concert though an open window at the side of the building. I can now appreciate its Art Deco style and would love to see it restored to its former glory. So Belfast City Council I hope you will give it serious consideration so that a building that holds many memories for the older generation of Belfast can also be appreciated by future generations. Another observation from those days of the Floral Hall, the Astor and the Orpheus. All religions mixed together and nobody queried what religion you were. Venues like this tend to encourage integration.floralhall2historygallery

We also have elections looming. A disillusioned electorate who may or may not vote will again determine our future. Camp Twaddell will probably still be there waiting for a hero. The parade season will begin again and we will continue to chase our tails and not get anywhere. But most of us will get on with the important things in life and to those who do, especially our doctors and nurses, and our police, fire and ambulance services, I hope 2015 brings you all that you want and deserve.

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