perfect day. spring. late lie in. Hijacking my beloved's computer to type a few lines. Off to allotment and gardening centres. getting tan and vitamin D. Lots of it. Then barbeque. Jogging in the sunset with booboo.
That's my plan for today. Sorry, blogging not really part of it. ciao amigos

I'm the proud owner of a 250 GB hard drive. I must be turning into a geek to write this on my blog. It's not installed yet so I'm still trembling in anticipation.
Now that my C drive is no longer 100% used (apparently that's scary, and should never ever happen - I had exactly 29 KB left and it didn't crash!) I've installed a webcam.

Webcam, Digital Camera, Broadband and my Portable Hard Disk (aka MP3 Player) all need a USB port. I have two. I need at least three, better even, four.
1. I need a USB hub.

You think you've bought it all and there's always something else you need.

I also have a negative scanner to digitalise all my photos. In a previous life, my ambition was to become a photographer, but I was scared off by the prospect of having to do studio shots of married couples, babies, first communion and other dressing up situations. Even then, I was more into landscapes than people (purely in photographic terms of course). Dreams may not always come true or rather come true in a different incarnation, and I still adore photography and will ban anything on film or memory stick until battery, film or the megabytes run out. Now I'm all excited about digging up all my negatives (and I still do SLR - not totally gone digi yet) and scanning them, it will take me years I'm sure. So many steps to get started though: thanks to ebay, I paid 1/10 of the normal price for a great scanner, second hand and a few parts missing. Then I had to get the missing parts. Next, a SCSI card. A hard drive. Somehow the cable doesn't seem to fit into the SCSI card and looks ominuously like a printer cable. Could it be that the cable I have connects the scanner to the printer, while the SCSI cable is missing? They all look so similar really, and I'm approaching the age where it gets difficult taking all the new technology in. Even if you think computers are the greates thing ever.

2. I think I need a SCSI cable.

3. I need to talk sweetly to my beloved to install my new hard drive. And give me a spare connecting thingybob to connect hard drive to my computer.

I also tried to setup my webcam so I can video skype, but then found out that it takes Windows XP to do so. I really don't want Windows XP. I mean, I bought the bloody thing to do video skype, and now it doesn't work! Not happy. So either:

4. I need Windows XP or the skype people have to respond to my suggestion to make video available for Windows 2000 too, or I have to figure out how MSN Messenger works. Or maybe someone has an idea how to combine video and skype on the ancient, yet trustworthy Windows 2000?

Of course I also need a holiday, sunshine, the perfect honeymoon destination, a haircut and a massage, but won't go into that. If you have a suggestion for honeymoon destinations, let me know. Or if you know about video skyping. Or about negative scanners.
And I know the colour is daft, but I like violet.

Digging between yellow and blue,
the smell of soil, the itches of spring
Winter winds gusting one last time among
apple blossoms waiting to spring into bloom
And all the while songs whirl through the head,
of emotions unbottled by a beautiful soul.
Wishing I could hear my mother sing just once again.



Still, I'm running late, and don't really have time for sentimental poetry. Sorry. See ya

After all the ranting and raving about my MP, and deciding to become a constituency lobbyist for our local AI group, today saw the first meeting with the man with whom I've had a lively and heated postal exchange. I was nervous and slightly apprehensive, but also excited, my fighting instincts all on high alert and ready to have a good old argument.

Not that I wanted and argument. In fact, with my fellow lobbyist and AI group member, we had agreed to focus on the least controversial issue, not just because we didn't want to build up walls in a first meeting, but because the most urgent issue simply is uncontroversial.

Funny thing is, Tom Harris greeted us with the assumption that we will probably not agree on all lines, and then ended up agreeing on all lines with us. It was a really positive experience, in that we managed to clarify a few issues, get him totally on board with the issue that we focused on (Control Arms) and he even expressed an interest in another issue in which my fellow campaigner will be able to liaise with him. In the end, we were all happy. I'm sure Tom Harris is less concerned about us being a bunch of nut cases now, I had the real feeling that he respects us and is willing to listen, and that we may agree on more than I would have expected from his letters. He also turned out to be much less of the line toer that I had thought him to be. He was happy to utterly condemn Guantanamo Bay and to criticise the PM for not using strong enough words when condemning it.
He was genuinely interested in finding out more about AI's arguments in relation to rendition flights, in spite of initially defending them to a certain extent. I think we may have managed to start to change his oppinion in this matter, subject to further information and follow up of course.

It was a good start. Now I'm looking forward to raising Anti-Terror Legislation with him. I know he won't agree on much in that area, but that's fine, it's still worthwhile raising it and spending time to consider the arguments. I'm confident now that he will listen, even if he won't agree.

I'd be really chuffed if he did go ahead and sign the Digital Petition. Will check the website for his name regularly now.

I've just received a death threat. Not of the premeditated kind, and to be fair, maybe he didn't really mean it. Still, I felt like uncannily in the same shoes as China's President Hu Jintao, who was wished a short life by a Falun Gong protester yesterday, though very much without his abysmal human rights record in my rucksack.

"You will not live long" the passenger of a white van informed me out of the open window. He said this because in order to take a right turn on my way to work, I had put out my arm, checked the traffic, waited until there was a gap in traffic, moved from cycle lane to car lane, checked traffic again, waited until there was a sufficient gap in traffic, and moved from left car lane to an empty right filter lane. The van continued its journey unhindered on the left lane. I did not obstruct traffic. I did not cycle carelessly. I did not break the highway code. I was simply a woman on a bicycle taking a right turn.

This road is mine as well as it is yours. If you think your promise of early death will be the last straw in giving up the daily battle for a decent space on roads and the tiniest bit of respect from car drivers, you are wrong. I just thought I'd tell you as you had too quickly driven off for me to give any kind of response.

Try me. I'm a tough one to run over.

Hello hello hello everyone!
It's ceilidh time again, so get out your dancing shoes, have fun for human rights and come to our ceilidh!
12th May is the day, 7:30 p.m. the time, Langside Halls Glasgow the place, The Hallanshankers the band, and £8/£6 the price for a fab night out with fab music, fab people, fab everything.
So buy buy buy tickets, still plenty going, and all proceeds go of course to the best cause ever, the protection of Human Rights across the world, to Amnesty International.
Bring your friends, family, colleagues. Public transport nearby, children welcome, no smoking of course (just in case you actually failed to notice Scotland's smoking ban), but plenty of bar liquids.

Get your own personal ticket from me amnesty at cartside dot co dot uk. Tickets can only be bought in advance due to regulations of the Glasgow City Council, who own the hall, but I'm happy to send out tickets or leave them at the door. Cheques should be payable to Amnesty International Glasgow South Group. I'll give you an address to send it to if you contact me.

Grumble. I posted a lovely wee article yesterday and it's lost. The text box went empty, the keywords were still there, but my well crafted words were gone.
Maybe the post was so rubbish that civiblog didn't like it.

Anyway, Wednesday night saw me headlining a public event in Kilmarnock. That's my claim to fame. Not much of a fame, as only 20 people turned up, and I wasn't the only one on the bill. I don't mean to say it wasn't a successful event, in fact, it was very good to get people out on a weekday night to listen to two speakers on Violence Against Women in the small town of Kilmarnock. The other speaker, from Women's Aid, presented a local perspective while I had a go at explaining the global context of Violence Against Women and Amnesty's Campaign to combat such violence.

It was my first Powerpoint presentation. That's quite odd, isn't it, I'm such a technophile and love computers, presentation and fiddling about with software, yet so far I've avoided one area that could be very useful both as a trainer and teacher. The difficulty is that I find it very hard to talk and click, to synchronise the slides and contents, and it really went pear shaped on Wednesday night. But it was my first time, so the next is bound to be better. I was also slightly thrown out of balance by an amazing first talk by the Women's Aid speaker, a really hard act to follow.

It's magic really, I had been given a pdf version of the presentation and was sat in front of my computer considering the challenge of making this into a powerpoint presentation, no idea how or where to start. Then I though, I'll just be bold and open the pdf in powerpoint. And, whohow! there it was, magic, all done and imported!!! Life can be sweet.

On the night, I was transfixed by two members of the audience. The Women's Aid speaker who seemed to suck every word from my lips, although I was anything but speaking confidently. I couldn't help but be confused. Secondly, a man who jawned so deeply throughout my talk that I almost  resorted to violence against men to eject him. Or inject him with intravenous caffeine. Or make him stand in a corner. Or all of it. 2/3 through the talk, I'd lost the plot. And I hope nobody noticed.

Afterword to AIUK AGM and all that: following my reasonable performance at speaking in front of large crowds (I was dead pleased with my nerves, they deserve an extra special cheer, usually they care feck all about where and how I want them), and following a seriously rubbish Saturday night (ear blowing Samba music and socialising don't mix in my world - you either speak to people or listen to music, anyone who can do both at the same time, Hut ab, but not for me), I decided to be all proactive.

First, I spoke to the Sheffield AI Group who too are in a dispersal area, and who too want AIUK to prioritise refugee, or more precisely, asylum issues. Their motion was much debated and opposed by the Board of AIUK, mainly because they were specifically calling for an extra person to do extra work, which of course means lots of dosh. And AIUK only has so much, and other campaigns are important too, and affect more people than the few thousand asylum seekers who actually make it to Britain thanks to effective border controls etc. Their motion went through anyhow, in spite of not being very clearly phrased and bringing together a few separate issues, and in spite of the Board being against it. This indicates that there is a large number of AIUK members who would like to work on asylum issues specifically, and the AGM instructed the Board to take this on board if you excuse the pun. It transpired that what the Sheffield group had in mind was some sort of coordinator, whether this would be an employee on a part time or full time basis, or a volunteer coordinator similar to the already existing country or activist network coordinators was insubstantial. I took the opportunity to suggest the establishment of such a volunteer run specialist network to the head of activism (via someone else) and offered my input should it be needed.

To be honest, I was reluctant though tempted to offer to volunteer for the role of coordinator - reluctant because realistically I don't have the time. Tempted because I know a lot, have a passion for refugee issues and would gladly give up other roles for this. However, offer I did not. Yet the quick initial response from the activism team which was passed on to me seemed to suggest that I had. It also seemed to be miffed about my initiative. Yet again. I don't know if maybe I don't communicate in a manner which appears to bulldoze into everything, thus calling for a gentle rebuff. It's the second or third such response I've had from the same person, and I'm starting to be stunned and slightly annoyed. I merely passed on an idea and expressed my interest to partake in such a network, yet it seems that my initiative is unwelcomed and greeted with extreme diplomatic care. What happened to enthusiasm, vision and creativity? Amnesty is a grass roots organisation, but grassroots initiatives seem to a certain extent to be discouraged. I know the pressures of the staff, after all, I work in the voluntary sector too, but never would I dare to carelessly stifle initiative from any of my volunteers. Exploration of possibilities should always be an option, no matter how pressurised people are. This is what it's all about, isn't it?

Well, it's not all doom and gloom, after all, this is an initial feedback and surely the success of the motion will have the Board think themselves, and potentially instruct the activisim team to take this on in one form or another. And, to be fair, the suggestion that the revamped website ready for launch in a month or two will offer opportunities to direct association of interest across the UK is truly promising. In fact, it may be the best way to proceed. This new website (which I was lucky to explore in its current pre-launch form at the AGM) will be simply marvellous. It will be so much easier to navigate, offer a volunteer space that can be customised, will host local groups and even feature a blog by Amnesty activists. I can't wait for it to go live and I'm sure it will contribute to greater involvement of, networking among, and the creation of communities of, activists.

After a week in the land of single track roads, cattle grids and unpronouncable place names, it feels utterly weird to be in a city. So many people. So many cars. Actually, less cars than usual, but that's due to the Easter weekend. Still - it's quite uncanny that I managed to survive a full week without access to anything remotely like the internet, in fact, no access to phones (no reception or phone boxes kaputt), no access to TV or DVD, and, no access even to decent grocery (or other) shops. Instead, there were plenty of deer, sheep, seals, puffins, waves, beaches, walks, boats, basalt columns and sick bags. Thanks to the suitably bad weather, the time was spent nose in books, games, open fires or on mountain paths, boats and passing places. And we found teddy bears which looked like monkeys.
A life beyond the internet is possible!

What surprised me most is how people get by without a decent shop. I was told that the peninsula of Morvern is inhabited by about 300 people, we added 20 to them for a week. It's a big peninsula, it takes you about two hours to drive around it. That's not going too fast due to the single track roads, but still. The one and only shop offers leeks, onions, carrots, turnips and ... well, that's it really. Apparently you can place orders and once a week the meat comes in. Failing that, it's off to Fort William, which is at least an hour's drive away. To get to Morvern, taking the ferry across is quickest, and strangely, the first sign on Morvern is: "no dog fouling. CCTV in operation". They  must have little worries if the criminals they chase with CCTV are dog foulers.

We stayed in Ardtornish house, a mansion which has been converted to self catering and self contained flats, accommodating lots of people (there were two groups, and we were a flock of 20, so you can imagine how big a house it is). It's grand, with open fires, lovely views of the loch and Mull, right in the middle of the Scottish nowhere. Time passed quickly between reading, talking, cooking, walking, boat tripping and sleeping.

One trip took us to Staffa, the Scottish end of the giant's causeway built by mythical Finn McCuill when jumping across between Scotland and Ireland in his giant's frenzies. Staffa is an island off Iona, which is an island off Mull, which is a bigger island off Morvern peninsula. That makes four boat trips in total, plus lots of single track road in between. It was an adventure indeed, and we just about made it. First, we arrived early at the first potential ferry slip for getting to Staffa. No phone reception, no working payphone and there was precious little we could do to tell the boatsman that we were establishing a demand for a crossing. You see, the ferry operates on demand only, to any of the many islands off the coast of Mull. So really, it's not even a Staffa ferry, but an Ulva ferry, which, if you want and pay for it, gladly takes you to Staffa as well. But as we had no means of contacting the boatsman apart from waving across the bay, we went all the way to the other end of the island to get the ferry to Iona. By that time, the sun had decided to do us good and the magic got to us. Unreal colours, unreal people living on an unreal island. All is small, post office, boats, houses, beaches, cars, shops, tearooms, abbeys. All is also very pretty.

Half an hour later and we'd really seen it all, as nice as it was, and decided for more adventure, and the boat trip to Staffa. It takes an hour to the island, theoretically you spend an hour on the island, and back on land. Effectively, the sea wasn't in favour of us landing, so we got thrown about for three hours non stop and my panic at the very high waves, and the consequential movements of the small boat was soon given up for amazement at the sight of half the passengers making good use of sick bags which were not so altruistically provided plentifully and free of charge. There they were, grown men and young women, old ladies and young boys, all getting rid of their lunch. Such a waste. I held firmly on to the lovely apple pie I had swallowed just before boarding the boat, I never like wasting food you see.

The puffins were cute, the dolphin curious, the basalt columns impressive. I felt invigorated when returning to Mull, ready for the single track road trip back to Morvern. I fell asleep instantly of course. The next day, a 10 mile journey in search of a teddy bear shop got me car sick galore, I've seemingly been given sea legs for some unexplained reason. Maybe I was a sailor in a previous life. Or a whale. As for the teddy bears, they were really hiding away at the end of the world. Go to the end of the road in Drimnin (that's the end of THE road in Morvern), then turn right after the phone box, into a private road. Take the next left. Leave the car, walk up to a building site of a house, ask the builder for a key and you'll be shown into a 2x2m box. This is the teddy bear shop. They had 4 teddy bears, all handmade and collectable, clearly not yet making a rivetting business out of it. But nothing is busy, or business, in this part of the world. It doesn't need it, and we didn't need it either.

Oh, and we never saw John Snow.

Greetings form the Amnesty UK AGM/Annual Conference! Well, I've managed to sneak out of the least relevant plenary session to hijack a computer at a quiet moment and here I am, a true addict to blogging.

In fact, it's the best moment because I'm very concerned I'm going to forget a few things later on. Just come out of a truly inspiring talk by Bobby Muller, he spoke without plan, but so inspiring, spirited, enthusing, it was simply magic. Realistic, relevant and with lots of good advice on how to campaign but also on  how to keep it up in spite of, well, losing battle after battle.

Today marked the first test for my own motion instructing AIUK to take action on the disproportionate force in the removal of "failed" asylum seekers, particularly families with children, and the call for a family amnesty for any asylum seeking family who's been in the UK for three years or more. The debate in the working party didn't have any opposition, so that's a good sign. One substantial amendment was proposed, but didn't get support (and certainly didn't get mine - in an attempt to delete the three years, and in the spirit to bring it down to a lower amount of time, the amendment effectively deleted the call for a family amnesty). I'm very positive that the motion will be carried overwhelmingly if not unanimously at tomorrow's plenary session.

Taking part in that particular working party, unfortunately I did not manage to listen to the heated debate of strategy and future direction of AI's work, but I'm sure the summary of that will still be as controversial and enlightening.

Last night, Emmanuel Jal spoke of unimaginable experiences as a child soldier between Sudan and Ethiopia. Conscripted at the age of 7, he was a child soldier until he was 13, and led a life beyond my imagination, at one point very close to starvation and eating the meat of a starved friend. He didn't, and thanks to an aid worker got smuggled out to Kenia, where he started to get into music. He now has a budding musical career and manages to use music as an outlet for the trauma he went through, while slowly adapting to lead a normal life. The spirit of the individual to cope and overcome such experiences is ever surprising and amazing, and maybe one thing that should keep us all going.

The Burma/Myanmar coordinator has been very busy and plenty of action available to the conference attenders, I think I signed about 15 petitions or so. It's not that many really, thinking that the political prisoners in Burma are in the thousands.

Finally, got all prepared for my first appearance in a constituency lobbyist hat: The workshop on how to lobby effectively really cleared up a few things, and I'm now looking forward to the first meeting with my MP Tom Harris. I also managed to stock up on all the new branded materials, as well as on materials for a public talk I will be giving on the Stop Violence Against Women campaign in Kilmarnock in two weeks time. So I'm all prepared. It makes a great difference. I really have to commend the section for these new materials - they are very focussed, useful for what we actually do, up to date, and in spite of not liking the branding at first, I now believe it actually works.

back to the conference...

They've got me beat. Call centres.
I've finally resigned myself to being shit friendly and ever so nice to them, imitating them.  I'm almost in bits trying not to laugh out loud.
Why? Getting angry, annoyed, shouting, or nicely asking doesn't get any results. Neither does being shit friendly, but at least it's less stressful.
I'm also sure their staff know how rubbish their services are but are in now position to really do something about it. The whole system is flawed.

Confidentiality means i can't actually elaborate, but I've got the feeling that there's a storm looming. Just as well I'm off for 10 days. Let the storm brew and wash us all away. I'll still be shit friendly. For now. In the meantime I'll be reading a books, playing a games and walking in the Argyll rain.



Anywhere, here's an anecdote I can tell.
Living in rented accommodation means that our landlord has to provide a gas safety certificate. He pays British Gas/Scottish Gas bucketloads of dosh to do this. So first they send me a letter telling me that they'll come... this afternoon. What??? I got the letter after getting back from work, i.e. too late. How about actually giving "advance" notice? Have they ever heard of people who work during the day and actually have to take a day off to meet their gas man?

So. I phone. Arrange new appointment. Have to be in in two week's time from 8 to 2pm. No precise timing can be given, so more than a half day is wasted. I'm in. Nobody comes. I call in dismay to find out that apparently someone called but nobody was in. But I WAS in. No you weren't, no answer when buzzer was rung. My buzzer works and I WAS in. No.

So I arrange new appointment. Have to take another day of my 25 days annual leave.
Again, the gas man will call some time between 8 and 2pm, no more specific time can be given. I'm in. At 11 am I get nervous. I call the call centre. Yes, they did try to gain access but the door wasn't opened. YOU WHAT????????? I was in, as I was before, the buzzer is working, what on earth did they do to be able to say they couldn't get in???? Can you please tell them to come right now? Because, I'm still waiting! This is the second of my precious 25 days annual leave I had to take to spend it on waiting for a gas man who never comes. I'm not a happy customer. I speak to the manager. The manager doesn't say anything different either. It turns out though that they don't have a record of my (i.e. the occupier's) name and they didn't actually ring the buzzer because the landlord's name wasn't on it. What a joke - I mean you only need a gas safety certificate if the flat is rented, and it would be very strange for the landlord to have his name on the buzzer of a flat  he doesn't stay in. Don't you think. How about making sure from YOUR side that you DO have the tenant's name, phone number etc??? Wouldn't that help us all a wee bit?

So they take my phone number. And insist on having to make another appointment. Three days of annual leave lost.

On the third attempt, the gas man rings before he comes around, but somehow, my phone does not connect with his phone. I can see he's ringing but as much as I try to pick the phone up, the connection isn't established. Panik. Then, thankfully, five minutes later, the gas man manages to ring my buzzer. They come up. Not straight away, so I'm  panicking yet again. In the flat, it takes them 30 minutes and they're gone. All appliances are safe, they got themselves £240 for 30 minutes. I lost three days of annual leave. Nobody pays for that. Life's a bitch.

I swore to write a letter of complaint. Never got around to it.

I had to laugh. Have a look at this the pride of the Scottish Executive:  http://www.scotland.gov.uk/News/Releases/2006/03/27132042 After months of campaigning, and the First Minister Jack McConnell daring to speak up in Westminster reserved issues (i.e. asylum and particularly the excessive force used in the removal of "failed" asylum seeking families, aka dawn raids), they are oh so happy that Tony McNulty, Immigration Minister revealed a shiny new package of making it all so much better. I read the article with excitement, read it again. and again. Coudn't find any details though. WHAT IS THIS PACKAGE????
I'm simply enfuriated.
We deserve better, after all the work put into it. We deserve details. We deserve to be able to rejoice or condemn "THE PACKAGE". We don't deserve to be told how good it is while the thing remains elusive.
Significant measures they call it. Me arse.

Ok, thanks to some newspapers, I was able to find out what these "significant measures" are. Children's services will be involved. Removal staff will have to go through enhanced disclosure before undertaking their job, to ensure they aren't paedophiles etc. And there will be a specially employed officer for removal procedures in Scotland - for better or worse. No end as such to dawn raids, no end to handcuffing people in their own homes in front of their children, and the promise from a week ago that children won't be removed while sitting Standard Grades or Highers has been withdrawn. Still a long way to go.

There's a great newish website, with very up to date campaigning information, announcements of all the demos in Glasgow, calls for action and so on: http://www.openborders.org.uk/ And, I'm glad to see, it uses the blogging format. What I don't like is that they call the new immigration professional for Glasgow "immigration stasi". We are simply NOT talking about a secret band of informers, but a named and known official, slightly different, isn't it?

Just a few days until the Amnesty International AGM. No, I'm not nervous yet, but utterly unprepared. Ah well, at least I'm preparing my zombie laptop, instilling new life into it, so that I can prepare my speech and all on the journey down to Coventry. 6 hours train should be enough. Only problem is that the battery doesn't charge anymore, so may not have any juice to actually power it. It would have been nice if I could have gone to Coventry to retract my motion because Tony McNulty had just announced a family amnesty. But his very meagre concessions leave the word and spirit of the motion as pressing as they've ever been.