Monthly Archives: October 2012

The last of the sunflowers.

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I brought these last ones inside, before the frost got them!Image

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Equality, or the lack thereof. The list continues.

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So, I thought more about this. I often do, I just don’t write it down. I am going to add to the list of the current inequalities started in my last post. Women will not have equality until each and every one of these situations is addressed.

Porn. Never more readily available than now, often free, via the Internet. Nasty misogynistic porn that many times just refers to women as bitches and sluts. This dehumanises them, and is reminiscent of how during the war, then enemy were often pictured on posters as animals, to make it easier to live with the decision to kill them. Frightening huh, to hate women so much?

The prevalence of porn has meant that young women are far more likely to have their pubic hair totally shaved or waxed off. Again, the desire to have women look like pre-pubescent girls and not women demonstrates a chilling level of hatred.

Strip/lapdancing clubs have actually increased in the last few years. Even our reasonably middle-class local town has one. Women are being seen as commodities in a way that did not happen in the 80’s and 90’s. You can perhaps blame the World Wide Web for much of this. At a local level, I am surprised that they are even granted planning permission for this. These people granting permissions, licences etc in most cases have wives/partners, and often daughters.

It saddens me that in Britain in the 21st century the ability to therefore classify women as Whores or Madonnas, with not much in between is alive and well.

Equality and That Survey

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Ok, this has been done by other people, and been done well, but I feel compelled to put my ten pence worth in. It’s unusual for me to blog on topical stuff, but this is close to my heart.I am not going to produce references, I gave that up when I left university…

So, apparently the survey was flawed in that the possible answers were skewed in an obvious direction towards the result the commissioners of said survey wanted it to take. They wanted women to say women don’t have any further to go with equality, and they don’t identify too much with feminism, and that’s what they got, by giving insufficient choice of answers. Had this been research done by any undergraduate student, the survey would have been dismissed as being flawed. Basic research error.

 

So, there is the Political, and there is the Personal. Women still don’t take home equal pay. They are less likely to have a pension than men, and the contributions made to any pension are likely to be smaller, as they generally earn less, and in many cases have had a few years out for children. Most of the time women will never recover that ‘lost’ time, either in money, or on the career ladder.

Women are far more likely to be carers for elderly relatives, and do most of the housework, even when both adults work full time.

Now to the more personal, although there is overlap. Women are expected to be beautiful in a way in which men are not. Not being beautiful is regarded as being ‘less than’, and is used as a term of abuse that is rarely levelled at men. Unattractive men regularly are openly out to date attractive women some twenty or more years younger. It is rarer to find a man looking to date from his own age group, certainly online.

Men in my experience are rarely subjected to men in cars feeling perfectly entitled to leer out of car windows at passing women, and comment loudly on their perceived level of sexual attractiveness, or the lack thereof.n

And it is unthinkable that a group of women would use the equivalent of the Old Boys Network at the BBC to cover up the crimes over many years of a predatory paedophile in the situation which has recently and many years belatedly come into the public domain

Aside

As part of my occasional series of My Pictures, this is the farmhouse where I was born. It’s in Cumbria, and was built in 1732, which then was in the old Westmorland.Image, It was painted by a relative Jean Rossall, who is a very talented artist, but has not painted recently.

The farmhouse is no longer in my family, but it was for a long time, and has links with the ruined castle which is two minutes walk away. Many people within the family have happy memories of it. It’s reputation was that people could go there in difficult times, and quite a few family lived there at one time or another. One couple even spent their honeymoon there. It was sheep-shearing time, and they were glad of the extra help! I have many happy memories of staying there as a child, where I was allowed to roam free, and had pet sheep, and my own hay-fork. Whenever I get the chance, although it is a couple of hours from where I now live, I go past it.

It feels like I am touching base.

 

My pictures. This is the farm where I was born

How to: reusable Coffee filter

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Ok, so the picture has gone before the words. Not trying to confuse you, honestly, still getting to grips with this blogging malarkey….

 

Take two smaller sized cloths, with some kind of open weave. I used the muslin cloths available from pound/bargain shops to use with facial cleansers. I found them a little small for the intended purpose, but fine for this.

Using a paper coffee filter as a template, cut round the paper. You can cut it to this exact size. The paper filters are sealed at the edge, which will make them the same size once sewn. Straight stitch, by hand or machine around the sides and bottom of your material. I machine zig-zagged the top, to stop it unravelling, but you could give it a small enclosed hem instead.

Voila!