I sent my overseas packages on Monday. I used the machines in the post office to weigh the packages and print the stamps – and that wasn’t without complication. When the machine came up with the maximum dimensions for a “packet” I asked “how big is that”? The assistant pointed out a box on the top of the machine: “if it fits in that, it’s ok”. “Wow – that’s a huge package – I wouldn’t mind getting something that big”.

Then I couldn’t find the customs declaration stickers “on the shelf below”. The helpful assistant had already taken them out for me.

Finally I manged to stick the stamps on the wrong parcels. But the assistant had long nails and was able to scrape them off so I could start again.

Yes, it is odd that I complain that banks have replaced human tellers with machines, yet given the choice in the post office I go to the machine.

As I was heading out on Tuesday afternoon, a delivery driver had just delivered a package to a neighbour (leaving it on the step as the neighbour was out). I’d seen the van coming down the street so waited in just in case it was for me.
“Excuse me”, he asked as I walked past, “Is this part of Castle Street?”
“No, “ I replied, “this is Church Street. Castle is the next one along”
“Oh. Do you know where 7 Castle Street is?”
Well, you’re the delivery driver not me. No, not off-hand – but would hazard a guess that it is in the street actually called Castle Street, probably between either 5 and 9 or 6 and 8, depending on how the houses are numbered.

Multiple cooking amnesia last weekend. All I had to do was make spaghetti bolognaise. Wasn’t till I started to serve it out that I remembered the garlic bread. Then as we started to eat I was reminded that I hadn’t made a side salad. Finally it was pointed out that I had forgotten to add mushrooms.

I baked a Christmas cake on one of my days off. And iced it – plain covering, ready for CGF to do some artistic decoration-type stuff. It wasn’t until I’d rolled the marzipan that I remembered I had no jam – so a quick trip to co-op. Another emergency trip to co-op on Friday when, in the middle of more baking (coconut and cherry cake this time), I found I had no milk.

I’d left my cake tin at CGF’s and didn’t really want to buy a new one. “I know”, I thought, “I’ll buy a tin of sweets; empty out the sweets and use that. Then I can transfer the cake to the real tin at the weekend and put the sweets back in the sweet tin.

All well and good, except that the cake didn’t fit in the sweet tin. So I just brought the sweets to CGF's at the weekend and we ate them.

I chose a coconut and cherry cake because I had desiccated coconut left over from baking efforts a few weeks ago. But, of course, this meant that I needed to buy cherries. I now have cherries left over.

I was reading about my local council’s plan for the next few years. There seemed to be much debate and view-seeking over whether the council tax should be increased next year – and self-congratulation over the fact that the tax hasn’t been increased for five years.

Taking the first point first. Yes, it is all very well not increasing council tax, but at what cost? How many services have had to be cut? How many charges have been introduced or increased? How many council workers have not had a pay increase? How far has the council had to dip into its savings? While I would wholeheartedly agree that councils should be financially responsible, and not impose swingeing tax increases, surely there comes a point when “no tax increase” becomes more a case of political dogma than effective strategy.

And for the second point. A 1.9% increase in council tax would cost Band-D houses about £2. That’s £2 per year. Is it even worth discussing such a paltry sum? Just do it.

That 1.9% is important. Because an increase of 2% or more requires a local referendum. Whose stupid idea was that? To increase council tax by just over £2 requires us all to go to the polling station – the costs of which would surely be more than £2 per person.

I’m all for democracy, and politicians being accountable to the electorate and all that. But we must also give our elected representatives the responsibility to make decisions on our behalf – that it what we elected them for. And if we don’t like the decisions they make, we just vote for someone else next time

A trip to Salisbury yesterday. Salisbury is one of those towns that I only seem to go to for a reason (yesterday’s reason was a ringing tour), and always think “this is somewhere I should come to more often”.