Let's not DIY

Easter eggs covered in plaster dust never tasted good.

B&Q has announced its closing 60 of its branches. Bad news for those who work there but, to be honest, a bit of a relief for the rest of us as we won’t feel so guilty any more. In any case, they have long been more to do with interior design and selling us ready made gardens, furniture and Christmas lights than much hard practical work.

DIY is a dying skill, especially among the under 30s. And I don’t think the under 50’s are up to much either. Once today’s granddads have died off, practical skills will be restricted to proper tradesman and farmers - who have to know everything.

Sounds fair. No one expects us to grind our own flour, weave our own sheets or mend our own shoes any more, so why should we have to maintain our own houses?

I can paint the easy bits and assemble Ikea furniture. For anything more than that I need to get an expert in.

Which means I can spend this weekend eating hot cross buns and eggs and admiring the daffodils.

Much more restful.

Playing in the mud , making daisy chains or climbing trees are the lost joys of childhood, according to a report by a group of visitor attractions, which says that today’s children are more likely to be stuck behind a computer screen than playing outside.

They list thirty outdoor activities that youngsters are unlikely to have experienced.

So if it pours down this weekend, don’t panic. Just turn the kids outside and that’s number ten on the list “Play in the rain.” ticked off.

One day they’ll thank you for it. Maybe…

Would you really want to know? Really?

Thanks to a dinky little black box, insurance companies are now able to give parents live updates on their children’s driving – where they are, how fast they’re going, how late they braked…

Good grief –how much stress do you need?

The reasons for and against are many – anyone old enough to drive by themselves is probably legally adult and should be left to get on with things on their own without mummy watching, even remotely.

BUT parents are always parents however old the child.

Anything that helps cut accidents, save lives, prevent injuries has to to be worth a shot, especially when it involves young drivers. But the logical next step of all this is to have a black box on every car reporting direct to Police HQ.

If not, why not?

It’s bad enough when your teenage drivers are out and about and you haven’t a clue where they are. At least you can always kid yourself that the car is safely parked and they’re inside a friend’s house.

But if a little black box is telling you they’re racing down motorways or careering round twisting country roads at high speed, then you’ll never have a peaceful evening again.

Sometimes – however good the intentions, as so often with teenagers, there are some things that we just don’t want to know.

I thought it was an April Fool, Joey Essex’s interview with LibDem leader Nick Clegg was so embarrassing.

Joey, a reality TV star who can’t tell the time or tie his own shoelaces – was clearly bored, out of his depth and wondered why the party had “cat” in the title – as in Liberal Democats and that the leader’s name was Leg. He was also utterly clueless about how politics worked, what the parties stood for, or just about anything really.

It could be funny – except he is entitled to vote. And that really is scary.

At last - a small spark of common sense.

People caught urinating in the streets in Eastleigh in Hampshire now have the option - instead of a court case and fine of £400 – of cleaning up after themselves.

Brilliant.

They also do a bit more street washing and meet some of the people trying to improve the town. Women, curiously enough, usually opt to pay the fine instead. Too ashamed to face people?

Most of us don’t usually see how disgusting our city streets are on early weekend mornings. Having done a stint with the pre-dawn street cleaners I can say that you need a very strong stomach.

I’d get all the drunks out there on a Sunday morning too – a bucket of bleach, a pair of Marigolds and a scrubbing brush should sort their hangover out nicely…

We’re turning into a nation of softies as sales of luxury loo rolls are booming.

Back in the days when many people still used cut up squares of the Echo in the outside lav, toilet rolls in the post office where my parents worked had “Property of Her Majesty’s Government” printed on each sheet.

Somehow, it turned wiping your bum into a revolutionary act.

But if you want to re-live those scratchy days, two rolls of scratchy old Izal are up for sale on eBay at £16.

Ouch.

So farewell then William Hague, our MP for 26 years. After all his jobs and many achievements, I shall still think of him in his wraparound pinny serving in our village shop.

There are probably worse ways for a politician to be remembered…

BACKCHAT

Beste Sharon

Your piece on learning Dutch reminded me of my efforts.

On learning that we were to be posted to a camp near the Dutch border my grandmother, who had friends there insisted I learned sufficient Dutch to at least pass the time of day and to do my shopping.

On my first visit to the local market somewhat nervously I approached the fruit and vegetable stall saying, "Goede dag, vijf kilo aardappelen alsjeblieft". The stall holder replied, "Mornin, do you mean a bag of spuds love?" He explained that he didn't know any other English person who asked for anything in Dutch so he had learned to understand their needs in English. This was the start of a long learning curve for both of us and when I left the village the only word he had difficulty with was cauliflower and my Dutch was a lot more fluent.

Keep learning Sharon. My experience taught me that I paid a lot less than my neighbours when shopping as it was appreciated that I had made the effort to learn their language.

Dakjewel

Andrea Bergg