Rant 1: Cats

Ladies of a certain age fall into two categories: 1) Those who develop a passion for cats; 2) Me.

What is wrong with the rest of you? You hit the big 'M' and realise there's something luxuriantly furry missing from your lap? Saint Joanna Lumley's even broadcasting her fascination with the creatures and "the 18-year relationship she had with her beloved feline companion" to the nation.

Cat lovers relish the fact that cats can't actually be "owned". So why own one? And, more to the point, why do you let the damn thing out of the house to roam the streets all day? Where do you think it goes? What do you think it does?

I'll tell you... it comes round to my place, digs up the flowers and poos all over my veg. Then it climbs in through an open window, explores my house (leaving paw prints all over the kitchen) and settles down to spend the rest of the day sleeping on my sofa. If that's all it's going to do all day, buy a litter tray so it can do it in the comfort of its own home - and you can clean up after it.

Bricklayer showed respect by wearing a dress

One of the most moving photos I've seen for a long time was this image of bricklayer Barry Delaney, who wore a lime green dress and pink socks to his friend's funeral. His friend, Pte Kevin Elliott, was killed while on foot patrol in Helmand province in Afghanistan at the end of last month.

The pair had made a pact years ago that if one of them died, the other would wear a lurid dress to the funeral. Barry wore a sombre suit for the service but changed into the dress in the cemetery car park. As he arrived at the graveside, other mourners cheered and applauded.

A lot of people have criticised Barry, complaining that dragging up for the funeral was "disrespectful". That's rubbish. By honouring his long-held promise, Barry showed honour, integrity and respect for his mate. He also showed us a side to Kevin that we would not otherwise have thought about. Thanks to Barry's tribute, Kevin is not simply another serviceman killed in the line of duty whose photo we see in the paper. He was a real bloke who had a sense of fun and was blessed with a loyal, honourable friend.

ABBA: Thank you for nothing

I never thought I'd say this, but ... I never want to hear another ABBA song again. Ever.

Thanks to roadwords on the M4 we had an epic six-and-a-half-hour journey on Sunday, much of which coincided with Radio 2's broadcast of the ABBA "Thank you for the music" tribute in Hyde Park. Oh goody, we thought, a sing-song will keep us cheery during the long, dismal hours ahead.

It was dreadful. The glittering line-up of stars screeched, squawked and warbled their way through the Swedish foursome's back catalogue. Jamie Cullum made "My Love, My Life" his own - unfortunately his free-fall jazz style proved totally incompatable with the song. And as for Chaka Khan ... she can't. In fact, the only ones who sang in tune were Jason Donovan and Kylie. It was karaoke hell, with bells on. And with Chris Evans yelling at the top of his voice.

Then, at rehearsals on Monday, the bandmaster got out the ABBA medley. We played it again last night, at a dinner. Now it's in the music pack we'll probably keep playing it from now until Doomsday. Or until we get it right. 

I don't believe it!

Herts County Council has apologised after a sign reading “Taking an old bag for a ride” was displayed on the side of a bus used to transport pensioners. The sign was part of Sainsbury’s latest ad campaign, which encourages shoppers to reuse carrier bags.

The council agreed to remove it from its “Dial a Ride” service after a 75-year-old passenger complained. The pensioner said: “It can’t be just me that finds it upsetting to read such unpleasant words on a bus designed to help elderly people.” Actually, love, it was just you. Nobody else complained.

I can imagine my mum enjoying the joke so much she would have had her picture taken sitting behind the sign. I mean, even the Duchess of Cornwall had a giggle when she was photographed carrying a canvas shopper bearing the slogan "I'm an old bag from Deptford". (See the pic here)

As they get older, some people seem to lose the ability to laugh at themselves. I pray to the spirit of Victor Meldrew that I'm not one of them.

Diversity training - who needs it?

I've got diversity on my mind this week. I know, I know - "political correctness, bah humbug". I hear you. But you see, I write training materials for a living and I'm currently being paid to write a workbook on diversity. Believe me, I'm no expert on the subject. I've never had any equality and diversity training myself, I can't be bothered with political over-correctness and I've even been known to laugh at the odd non-PC joke.

But I did my research, read a load of stuff other people have written (some of it good, some of it complete "right-on" garbage) and thought about what "diversity" actually means. In case you're interested, it's not about treating everyone the same; it's about treating everyone as an individual. It's not about stamping out witty banter in the workplace; it's about considering how others feel.

In other words, it's all common sense and good manners. So why, in this enlightened day and age, in this culturally diverse society of ours, do we need to explain this to people? Why do companies still need people like me to explain it to their employees? After all, we've had legislation relating to equality for 30 years and more. Surely this kind of thing is taught in schools?

Then, this weekend, I met a woman called Pauline. We were at my future sister-in-law's birthday party and Pauline is her best friend. It was a great party and, as often happens, a load of us finished up putting the world to rights into the wee small hours. We were talking about the different jobs we have done over the years and Pauline told us about an interview she attended when she wanted to return to work after bringing up her family. The interviewer noted that she had not been in full-time employment for some time and asked her why she didn't just "go back where she came from". Pauline comes from Oxford. But that's not what he meant.

This wasn't 50 years ago, it was very recently. The interviewer was not a stupid or uneducated man. Just ignorant. And bloody rude.

Right, here goes!

Well, here I am at last in the 21st century and trying my hand at blogging. I'm not convinced that I have anything worth blogging about, to be honest. I mean, who's going to read it? Still, it's worth a go. And if I find myself short of things to say then I'll just stick to Twitter.