EARTHQUAKE

Well I survived my first major earthquake. I say major, one person injured, a few bricks slightly out of place - but apparently it's the biggest we've had in the country for 25 years. 5.2 on the Richter Scale so I'm told.
I wasn't that far from the epicentre in Market Rasen, I was staying overnight in Leicester while taking part in a two day conference in Nottingham.
So you want the dramatic every cough and spit first hand account of my horror at the hands of Mother Nature?
Well...I was woken up at about 12.50am to feel the house rapidly vibrating, with a low growl rumbling all around. It took me a while to figure out whether the boiler was about to blow up or if it was the effects of the chicken satay (Thai style) I had for dinner (with fried rice).
It was over by the time I had woken up enough to realise it was neither. And that's it, dogs barking in the street, a few car alarms going off, and I drifted back to my restless sleep dreaming about the new website content management system I've been trying out (yes, even my dreams are geeky sometimes...apart from that one I had about Angeline Jolie dressed as Xena warrior princess).

View Larger Map

Personally I think this new management system is much more interesting. Probably won't make top story on Radio One Newsbeat, but it pushes my buttons.
Without getting into too much detail, expect to see thisisplymouth exponentially improved before the summer - barring flood, fire or er... earthquake.
PS It's quite disconcerting being in the East Midlands, everything is just slightly different from Devon. Even the roadkill was different driving along the A46 today, no badgers, and I haven't seen so many bruised and battered foxes lying at the side of the field since Argyle took on Holloway's new crew.

Hell in a handbasket

Everyone experiences those moments in life when things shift, slightly, and nothing looks the same any more.
You know the kind of thing, like you're watching Neighbours and suddenly it has adverts in the middle - you're just not used to it.
For me it was taking a tour of the maternity unit in Torbay at the start of the week, the same day, coincidentally, when news broke about them giving a mother the wrong baby to breast feed and giving another baby in special care someone else's breast milk, but that's by the by.
The first thing that unnerved me was the sheer number of people. Of course I've seen the news reports saying maternity units are now inundated, but you have to experience it for yourself to truly appreciate it.
Four years ago, with the tour before our first, there were less than a dozen of us and we were given a leisurely two-hour tour, going through every aspect of the unit and seeing every facility with no rush. no hassle. Everyone smiled.
This time we were crammed into one of about a dozen groups of about 20 people. The unit was so stretched they had to get one of the anaesthetists to act as receptionist while all the midwives and various volunteers took people on tours. We got about 20 minutes, most areas and a whole floor were off limits because they were so busy.
Throughout the whole experience the midwife was at first begging, then almost ordering people to have their baby at home rather than come into hospital. When she wasn't showing how basic and uncomfortable the surroundings were she was re-enforcing how draconian the visiting rules are. Having had one child in Torbay I would have to say the facilities and staff were great. But they seem to be under so much pressure now they would much prefer you just stay away, thank you very much.
Hmph. Thinks I.
But the real shocker, and at this point I should highlight that my wife is a teacher outside Plymouth, was that one of those in our merry band of expecting months was an underage pupil at her school while another was a teacher sacked for having un-professional relations with a male pupil.
Hmph. Hell in a handbasket thinks I.
Women have been having babies for so long you'd have thought we, and by that I mean the medical profession and society, would have got it right by now - and by that I mean both the facilities we provide and having our ethics in order.
Maybe I'm just getting too old, perhaps I should start writing letters of complaint about the state of modern society to Herald Express postbag.