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Time to move on.

We now know when we will have to leave our home, which I have lived in for 55 years and Linda for 35 years and close our business, middle to late October this year.We are having to leave because a 'charitable' housing association, ' Paddington Churches', intends to build over 160 flats in the yard.Since an earlier planning application of almost 20 years ago, we have been on Ealing Councils housing list, religiously confirming that we wish to remain on the list at each annual review.  Due to the imminent demolition of our home we contacted Ealing Council to informed them that we would shortly be homeless and in need of assistance.  We were turned down flat, told to look to the private sector, well hello, we are about to lose our source of income as well as our home. Neither Linda or myself have ever looked to Ealing Council for assistance of any kind, either for ourselves or our two children.  I have been responsible for and paid, business rates and domestic rates for over 40 years but when we look to Ealing Council for help they slam the door in our faces.  We have done everything we can to remain here but to no avail, yet we were told we had deliberately made ourselves homeless because of something I had signed 18 years ago, which according to my solicitor at the time I had no option but to sign.  A gross misinterpretation of the facts by the housing department.  Now according to the literature I have read, if our home had to be demolished, Ealing Council would rehouse us, so far so good but our home isn't technically speaking going to be demolished, its going to be redeveloped, so they won't help us. Perhaps I'm just been stupid here but how can you redevelop a site for a block of flats, without demolishing the building that's there already?So, what happens now, well we've decided to move out of London, possibly to Wiltshire, the problem won't be finding a house to live in, the problem will be finding work to pay the rent.  Since making this decision we've been looking at Hanwell through different eyes and quite frankly we are beginning to change our minds about the way we feel about the area because large parts of Ealing and Hanwell are really not very nice, it's not the place we used to know and love anymore. Areas can decay slowly so slowly you don't notice it happening then something like this happens and it hits you, then you realise.  But inspite of that it does have its good bits and Ealingtoday is one of them, so we shall still be making regular visits to the site.We would like to thank a former Mayor of Ealing, Joan Ansell and Councillor Jonathan Oxley who both worked on our behalf to find a solution to our predicament but to no avail.  Joan in particular was horrified and disgusted at the way we had been treated by the Ealing Housing Department and tried many avenues to resolve our problem. And to save you asking, we have seen a solicitor who confirmed that despite the ease which some people within our community and from outside, receive housing assistance, we unfortunately, had fallen through every social safety net.  Rest assured that despite having lost our home and business and having to move out of Ealing we have not finished complaining about the unjust way we have been treated, next port of call, Mr Virendra Sharma MP, I'm pleased to see he has an e-mail address, unlike his predecessor.  Not that that will be our initial contact, that will be by letter to the Houses of Parliament.In the words of a favourite character of mine from the 60s, " Be seeing you".

Peter Wright ● 6608d8 Comments ● 6564d

Hedge your bets

Hedge your betsMeaningTo avoid committing oneself; to leave a means of retreat open. OriginHedge has been used as a verb in English since at least the 16th century, with the meaning of 'equivocate; avoid commitment'. An example of this comes in Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor, 1598:"I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge and to lurch ."It began to be used in relation to financial transactions, in which a loan was secured by including it in a larger loan, in the early 17th century. Initially, the phrase associated with this form of hedging was 'hedging one's debts', for example, John Donne's Letters to Sir Henry Goodyere, circa 1620:"You think that you have Hedged in that Debt by a greater, by your Letter in Verse."'Hedging one's bets' was coined later in that century. It referred to the laying off of a bet by taking out smaller bets with other lenders. The purpose of this was to avoid being unable to pay out on the original larger bet. The phrase was first used by George Villiers, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham, in his satirical play The Rehearsal, 1672:"Now, Criticks, do your worst, that here are met; For, like a Rook, I have hedg'd in my Bet."The verb 'to hedge' derives from the noun hedge, i.e. a fence made from a row of bushes or trees. These hedges were normally made from the spiny Hawthorn, which makes an impenetrable hedge when laid. To hedge a piece of land was to limit it in terms of size and that this gave rise to the 'secure, limited risk' meaning. Hedge funds, much in the news nowadays, take their name from their method of limiting, i.e. hedging, their risk. Curiously, the original examples of another financial device currently newsworthy i.e. stocks, were literally made from material that was taken from hedges. In the 17th century, the tally that recorded a payment to the English Exchequer was a rough stick of about an inch in diameter, split along its length. One half, the stock, was given as a receipt to the person making the payment; the other half, the counterfoil, was kept by the Exchequer. Ownership of payments that were made jointly by a group were shared among the members of so-called joint stock companies, hence stocks and shares.

Peter Wright ● 6565d0 Comments ● 6565d

Have an inkling

Have an inklingMeaningHave a vague intimation of; have a slight knowledge of.OriginClearly the understanding of the source of this little term is based on knowing what an inkling is. It sounds as though it might be something small, like a jot or a tittle. It also seems to exist in the same neck of the linguistic woods as the names of other minor sensations, like tingling or tickling. We can tingle or tickle, but we don't inkle, so where did inkling derive from? These days, there isn't much we can do with an inkling other than to have one. In the 13th century, when the word was coined, inklings weren't had, they were heard. Inklings, like tinklings, were small sounds. Specifically, an inkling was an indistinct hearing of the use of one's own name. This meaning is demonstrated in the earliest known use of the word, in the Alliterative Romance of Alexander the Great, circa 1400–50:"[Alexander] Herd a nyngkiling of his name, & naytis him [exerted himself] to ryse."So, if you heard an inkling your senses were alerted to listening for something that might interest you and it is that sensation that has lead to our current usage of the word. To be more accurate, in the 13th century you would have had a ninkling rather than an inkling. Inkling is one of those nouns that were originally spelled with an 'n' at the start of the word but later lost it in everyday speech. In this case, sometime in the 16th century, 'a ninkling' became 'an inkling'. Other examples of this are 'a napron' and 'a nadder' [snake]. This reformation of words is called metanalysis and these 'n' examples of it are difficult to explain fully. There are examples of words going in the other direction, i.e. adding an 'n'. For example, 'an ekename' is now 'a nickname' (eke means also) and 'an ewt' is now 'a newt'. Other examples, like 'nangry' where the originally spelled 'angry' gained an 'n' but then failed to become publicly accepted, show how precarious such changes are. Curiously, the most commonly heard example of an English word losing its initial 'n' happened in France rather than England. The French obtained 'orange' via a route through several languages, ultimately from the Sanskrit 'naranga', and 'une narange' became 'une arange'. By the time oranges appeared in England they were already oranges - there never was an English word noranges. On to more inventive metanalysis from Duck Soup:Chico: What is it that has a trunk but no key, weighs 2,000lbs and lives in a circus?Prosecutor: That's irrelevant!Chico: A relephant. Hey, that's the answer. Copyright © Gary Martin

Peter Wright ● 6571d0 Comments ● 6571d