How to use your phone while driving.

You are stuck in traffic, nothing has moved for ten minutes, you are sure it's probably an accident and you think you might as well ring your wife to tell her you'll be late.

You are at traffic lights, they have just turned red, you only missed the green by seconds and now you have to wait for 4 sets of changes before you can move again, you glance at your phone on the passenger seat and see you have a snapchat notification.

You are cruising at 70 on the M4 on the way to a conference, running a bit late you decide to text the organiser, after all, you have some automated 'I'm running late' texts programmed into the phone.

It's late and dark and you can't find your mate's house on a large housing estate, all the roads look the same, you give him a ring and clutching the phone twixt ear and shoulder you ask him to talk you through the route.

It doesn't matter why you think it's OK to use your phone while you are driving, it's not OK, it's dangerous and it's illegal. I've been in some of those situations, I've been tempted. And in the days before using your phone and driving was a specific offence I have used hands-free to get directions from a friend.

So I understand the temptation I really do. I know you think 'I'm not even moving, I could use it quickly!' I know you are thinking, 'glancing at a text message is no worse that tuning the radio, that message might be important'. I get it. But it's not OK, it's not OK because it's dangerous, and because it's dangerous, and because we are tempted, it's also illegal. Even being illegal hasn't been enough to stop some people playing Pokemon Go in traffic in the town centre (but Officer, there was a Pikachu!) so the penalties increased in March 2017

If you are caught using your mobile phone while in charge of a vehicle (which includes at traffic lights and in a traffic jam) you are liable to 6 penalty points on your licence and a fine of £200.  If the case goes to court there is a risk you will lose your licence entirely and be fined £1000.

Copyright: bignai / 123RF Stock Photo

So my top tip is simple, when you get into your car, if you have no passengers to answer your phone, or tweet, or catch Pokemon for you, switch off your phone, and put it in the boot. Job done. If you 'need' to use your phone for music via the bluetooth, switch off the data, and set calls to voicemail or silent, put the phone face down out of reach.

Don't be tempted. Be safe. Be legal.

Driving long distances should always include breaks for safety. So just make them mobile phone check breaks too.

New alcohol guidelines? Bottoms up!

In 2014 my evening 'mum drinking' had crept up to one large glass of wine a night when I got in from work. It was lovely, tasted great and relaxed me.

But by the end of 2014 not only had I found myself drinking one large glass a night in the week, I was drinking even more at the weekend. All this drinking had led to a rather unexpected (but looking back on it pretty obvious) outcome, I'd gained a stone in weight.

Fearful lest the gradual weight gain continue until I needed new trousers I decided to do 'Dry January' in 2015 and to embark on a diet.

Dry January was as awful as you would imagine, but after successfully completing it I decided that I would not go back to drinking in the week. (for a rather vague definition of 'in the week' which was mainly Monday through Thursday, I think we can all agree the weekend starts when work finishes on Friday and ends when one goes to be on Sunday)

So reading today's news that the UK drinking guidelines have been rewritten I was interested to see how I fitted in.

It seems we (all of us, men and women) now have the same guidelines, regardless of weight, height, age or political party affiliation :-)

We are told to drink fewer that 14 units a week, to have at least a couple of 'dry days' and not to drink all 14 units at once.

Currently I'm doing dry January again (glutton for punishment) but on a 'normal' week I now drink 1/2 bottle of cava on Friday, 1/2 bottle Saturday and a whole bottle on Sunday. (I don't always drink on the Saturday - depends what I'm doing.) I don't drink any alcohol on the other days.

So how many units are in a bottle of cava? 8.6 it appears (same as a bottle of prosecco for those that are wondering) So I am going to be marginally (OK, OK, 3 units) over the 'low risk' amount for a week. Will I change my drinking? No.

Life is full of risk and we take them daily, I drive, I fly to holiday destinations, I eat street food, I cycle, I do all sorts of risky things. I will add drinking 17 units of alcohol a week to my risk list.

Will the new guidelines change your habits? Or maybe you are already teetotal? Let me know via Twitter, or my Facebook page.

Quick Food Rant

Did you know, food is really really bad for you!

"Not all food you idiot" I hear you cry, but yes, all food, all of it, everything, living on light is the only answer (and yes people do think you can live on light see here)

Or maybe air, but not food oh no, just look at this round up of food advice.

Protein is bad for you

Fat is bad for you 

Salt is bad for you

Sugar is bad for you

Grains are bad for you

Fruit is bad for you

Fruit juice is bad for you

Smoothies are bad for you


and so on, forever about every type of food ever.

By this time I expect you are so depressed you are reaching for a bottle of wine..uh oh, guess what

Alcohol is bad for you

I'm going to go and weep quietly in a corner with a bar of dark chocolate.

(It reminded me of the fabulous Kill or Cure Website.)

 I'm planning to ignore all this 'advice' and continue with a mixed diet and a little of what I fancy, will you be changing what you or your family eat?

Dearest Beloved

I get some really lovely emails from some really lovely generous people sometimes, (every day) which just proves to me the Internet is full of fantastic and lovely people. I thought you should share in the joy these emails bring, so here are a couple from today's offering

It's NOT big, and it's NOT clever,

When I was about 15 or 16 I smoked.
Only a bit, maybe one or two a week if I was lucky (should that be unlucky?) I was strictly ‘other peoples’ in what brand I smoked.
Once I was 18 and living outside of home I occasionally bought my own cigarettes. I still rarely smoked more than one or two a week, mostly I smoked when friends did on a Friday or a Saturday night. Peer pressure, yep, it was both big and clever. But it was also ‘cool’.

I usually smoked exotic and enticing brands like Black Russians, More Menthol or Multicoloured cocktail cigarettes with gold coloured filters ...it was all about the glamour. Packaging and presentation had a direct effect on whether I would buy a brand, I was beyond excited to discover a brand called DEATH that was sold in Brighton that came in a suave black coffin shaped box, too naïve, and too stupid to care about the irony it was quickly my favourite.
I never became addicted to cigarettes, I never smoked more than a couple a week and after the age of 24 rarely smoked at all. I haven’t smoked now in over 20 years.

 I wish smoking wasn’t cool. A smoking ban in public venues has done a lot to stop smokers, it is not so chic to huddle out in the rain to catch a quick puff. Lack of advertising has also helped to stop children and young adults starting the habit and of course you now need to be 18 to even begin. But I think another great preventative would be plain boring non-trendy packaging (think the classic TESCO VALUE campaign!) which is why I’d be happy to see all cigarettes sold in plain white cartons.
 I know all the arguments about cigarette taxes helping the country. I’ve heard things in favour of an outright ban (I’m not in favour mainly as it would only serve to make it cooler!) I think the best way to ensure that less people risk their health is to make smoking a real decision, based on proper information and not ‘oooh look – how cool is that packet!’ or ‘how handsome is that cowboy smoking!’

Dear McDonalds

I love you. I want to make this clear from the start, our from the "get go" as you Americans say. We have a dangerous relationship where you are a "feeder" but I'll be honest, I encourage it.

I like your breakfasts best.

Who am I kidding, I love your breakfasts. I love the muffins full of greasy goodness. I love that you serve pancakes with bacon and syrup, because, while it's not very British of me to admit, I adore bacon and syrup.
I love the choices of drink, the orange juice that lets me kid myself I've had a healthy breakfast. The milk that let's me pretend I care about my bone health.

But the coffee...ah the coffee... Now the coffee has improved, I admit that. I like the taste. But you have temperature issues don't you? The hotter the coffee the better? Is that your thought? You are wrong.

Remember the old adage "boiled coffee is spoiled coffee"? You would imagine that having a court case where a woman was scalded would have given you a wake up. But no. this morning I had to wait twenty minutes before I could drink my coffee without losing all the skin on my tongue. Twenty minutes! Imagine how hot it was! Sort it out. You are spoiling an otherwise perfect breakfast.



Lots of love
Me

I am secret Agent G

How neurotic are you about safety and security?

      I have written before about my neurotic parenting with DD and how I try very hard not to be Nemo’s Dad. But today I was thinking about online security.
     You all know I live online. I have a real feeling that it’s my ‘home’ I love to tweet and to blog. I like email, instant messages, apps to check things via phone, websites, the lot. But I am also very wary, and I like to think, security conscious.
      I do not bank online (except Paypal) so I am not easily swayed by Bank Phishing emails. And I’m amused rather than taken in by the ‘You’ve won the lottery’ emails (except once I had – it was only £10 though) and most of the “Dear friend I need your help with £1000000 I have in a bank in Nigeria” go straight to my Spam folder so I’m rarely troubled by them. (Oh and I don't post pictures of my credit card online either! Seriously people!!)
      But I hope I’m not complacent, I’m wary of all emails, I’ve sent money to people online (as either gifts or payment)  and only once have I been let down (a small item I paid for was never sent).
      I use Ebay, Etsy and Amazon and like most of you (I suspect) I’m pretty neurotic about passwords and password strength. I use a different password for each site, I follow advice from Sophos and test password examples at PassFault (go and give it a go! Though I’d use a ‘similar to your password’, not your actual password – just in case!) I use Gmail’s ‘Two Step Authentication’ and I have a phone lock on my mobile.
      I also try and remain fairly anonymous online. Partly because a quick google search for my name reveals……just me. I’m fairly unique it seems, ditto DD. So I rarely use my name online, nor an exact location. I realise a keen stalker could probably find most of it but why make it easy.

      I don’t play ‘What’s Your Porn Star Name?’ and the like since I realises that most of the questions were aimed at finding your ‘often used questions for when you lose your password on a website’ eg First pet, name of your road, a school.
      I don’t post my birthday online – why tell everyone I’m 45 TODAY when that reveals my date of birth – same for DD – after all she will be online long after I am and why leave a data trail for her to worry about.

 So, am I neurotic or sensible? And do you protect yourself on line or assume that the risk is small and not care. Any other tips you think I should know?

A war time memory.

"My daughter was born at my sister’s house in November 1944. I returned home with her when she was three weeks old. I had photos taken at a studio soon after we arrived home. These were to be the only photos of my daughter before the accident. I hadn’t collected them from the photographers at the time of the plane crash so they survived.

Mosquito De Havilland

The plane crash was on the morning of Saturday 17th February 1945.

I had put my daughter outside the front door in her pram. I then went into the bedroom to tidy myself and to put my coat on. I was looking in the mirror when I saw this huge plane coming into the garden, it was silent, no engine. I thought that my baby would be all right as the plane was coming toward the back of the bungalow, so remembering what we had been told to do during raids etc. I lay on the floor. The last thing that I remembered was debris falling on me, which must have knocked me out for a few seconds. I came to and my wardrobe was holding up the ceiling where I was lying. I scrambled up, thinking that I must get to my baby, I walked through the bedroom to the lounge, there wasn’t a wall there any more and no glass in the windows. I fell out of the window and my friend was there and she helped me out.

I rushed round to where the pram was shouting “MY BABY!” by that time the bungalow was alight and burning rubble had fallen onto the pram. I was pulled away, still screaming for my baby but I was held back. A man who was visiting his brother’s family across the road ran over, and with his bare hands got my daughter out of the pram. When I saw how badly she was burnt I wished that God had taken her, as her little face was burned also her arm and hand. The man who lived opposite was about to take a bride to her wedding, but no more ado he came and took us to the hospital, ribbons flying.

I don’t think that I have ever spent a more unhappy night, my baby was crying and I couldn’t pick her up as my hands were bandaged, so I continually called the nurse. Eventually the Matron came and said, “ What are you making all the fuss for?”

The next day a Doctor came from East Grinstead hospital and we were taken there and we stayed for three months. Fortunately my baby was still able to breast feed. Which helped to save her life. She had saline bathes everyday and was the youngest patient they had ever had.

My husband was serving in India at the time of the crash and didn’t even know that he had a daughter until she was about four months old. He didn’t know about the accident because his mother had written to him and just said that I couldn’t write as I had hurt my hands. (I used to write several times a week).

The first thing that he knew about it was when one of the fellows that was with him had the Local newspaper sent to him and this news was on the front page. You can imagine the shock. He put in for leave but wasn’t allowed to come home. Our daughter was nearly two years old before he came home and saw her, he walked through the door and she was in her high chair, my husband kissed me and she said, “Oh Mama!”.

We spent years going to and fro to East Grinstead for her to have skin grafts; she had the last one when she was sixteen.

There were five people killed that day including both pilots, we were the only two saved."

The memorial to those that died

Record of the crash on Flight Safety Org
(My Grandmother, Jan 1917 - June 1999  wrote this account in about 1995, the baby is my mum)

Being Nemo's Dad...parenting and Risk Management

Long ago a cop show was on TV called NYPD Blue, hubby and I watched it a lot and really enjoyed it. In one episode a character called Sipowicz and his life was pretty traumatic, lots of those close to him were killed, leaving him sole carer of his young son. The tragedies that surrounded him left him over cautious and in one episode we saw his anguish at having to let his son climb and use a high slide at a playground, on his own. It was a defining moment where Andy Sipowicz learned that you have to let go, or people cannot fulfil their potential. And that all hazards can be risk assessed and managed (more of that later).

For hubby and I it was a mixture of the funny and desperately sad. And we vowed to never become so protective of our daughter that she wouldn't be able to have the fun that goes with the odd risk. So during her toddler years we used the phrase "Remember Sipowicz" whenever we felt that we may be in danger of over protection......but wow it is hard! hard to see the small person that you adore doing something 'risky', going on the 'big' swing with no straps for the first time! Riding a bike, climbing a tree, horse riding etc etc (getting sweaty palms here just imagining it...

Fast forward.....................

So then when she was 3 we went and saw Finding Nemo. Aside from the fact that the scene in which the mother and all the eggs bar one are killed and eaten by a barracuda, leaving Nemo's Dad alone with one deformed egg, affected my sensitive daughter so much that she screamed and begged to leave the cinema, and is now scarred for life; we enjoyed the film.

And I realised that Marlin (Nemo's father) was a modern day Sipowicz. He too was over protective due to the tragic events that had befallen those he loved. So why was I in danger of being him? I've had a great life where most people I love died of old age (one with a glass of martini in her hand! now THAT is the way to go!) and I have a lovely daughter who is pretty, and clever.....so maybe that's it! I fall into the 'I'm too lucky, it can't stay this good, I deserve something bad to happen!' How ridiculous! but it's true. So now when my 10 year old starts jumping at her riding lessons, I mutter under my breath "don't be Marlin" because she needs to experience hazards, and if I don't let her I run the risk, like Marlin did, of driving her to bigger hazards than I can control.

Which brings me to Risk assessment. :-) (I can hear you yawning, yes you! you at the back!) any way we had a safety talk at work. We defined the difference between a HAZARD and a RISK.

A Hazard is something that could cause harm, and a risk is how likely that is to happen.

For example a tiger is a hazard, in a room uncaged the risk to you is HUGE but the same tiger, caged is barely a risk at all, the hazard is the same, the risk is managed.

So now I'm a parent that tries to risk manage WITHOUT turning into Sipowicz or Marlin!

Horse riding? learn at a good stable and wear a hat and back protector.

Swimming? Learn at a good swim school, and learn the hazards associated with open and cold water.

Not sure I'm there yet but one day, maybe when she's 35 I'll let her cross the road alone.....