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| Letters From London |
| Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics |
No Fun for You - 30 May 2008
No lights, no decorations, no costumes, no Virgin Mary, no eggs, no flags, no fun. Standard
holidays have been removed from the British calendar, most traditional enjoyable outdoor
activities have been terminated and now that summer is upon us, the forward-thinking fascism of
the Health and Safety (Hindrance and Stupidity) councillors have been active the month of May.
Omelette or poached? When a Cambridgeshire primary school teacher, Jean Williams, wanted
her seven-year-olds to be amazed at how chicks develop from six eggs in a classroom incubator,
health and safety stepped in to thwart her efforts. It wasn’t a matter of free range, free range
organic, battery - it wasn’t because the little ones might throw them, crush them, eat them - it
was because the ever-visionary council health and safety officers insisted biological, electrical,
child and teacher risk-assessments would have to be implemented before soft, furry baby chicks
could come in contact with soft, non-furry seven-year olds. The council wondered and worried if
the incubator would be kept in school until the eggs were hatched….
Tree-hugging forbidden. Axes are out for a much-loved local landmark, the monkey puzzle tree,
which has stood on the village green at West Cross, near Swansea for the last 150 years. One
expert likened the effect of the needles to being pricked by a hypodermic syringe. ‘Every effort is
made in this day and age to prevent children playing with discarded syringe needles… every
effort must be made to prevent children coming into contact with these potentially, equally sharp
needles.’ Tree needles…heroin needles…I get it. Non-junkie couple who live with the tree in front
of their house have been unable to prick, puncture or stab themselves with the rarely shed
needles. Often described as a living fossil, its family the Araucariaceae can be traced back to
the Mesozoic era, which started 250 million years ago…Araucarias can live for 1,200 years and
reach 160 feet…trade in its timber is now banned because it is so rare and to some indigenous
peoples of Chile and Argentina, the tree is sacred… evidently not to the syringe-fearing ‘experts’.
Chop, chop.
No swimming here. For the past 25 years Lourdes Maxwell has been putting out a paddling pool
in the garden for her children, grandchildren and neighbours’ children and grandchildren. The
divorced full-time carer to her son must obtain insurance and a life-guard for two feet of water
before the paddling can begin. "Neighbours' children would come and enjoy the pool and I would
give them ice lollies. It was always a very social occasion. I asked around for insurance and they
just laughed at me. No one offers insurance for paddling pools…I'm always there to supervise
but they're trying to tell me I need lifeguards for a kiddies' pool as well - it's crazy." The crazy
council “…did not have sufficient assurances that the risks associated with providing such a
facility would be well-managed…and the risks associated with drowning…we want to help where
we can to ensure that it is a fun and safe place for everyone to use." Twenty-five years and the
death toll?
The party’s over. For more than a century, the inhabitants of Hatfield Broad Oak have marked
their special occasions with metres of bunting, as you do. In recent decades, the bright coloured
flags waving have become an integral part of the annual village festival. The council has handed
over six A4 sheets of paper with conditions to make the now necessary licence so complicated
and costly, it could be Naples. The bunting string would have to be attached to fixed points on
buildings using stainless steel bolts, which would need rigorous testing. Many of the houses are
listed so no stainless steel bolts on them. Perhaps village celebrators could make use of the
health and safety red tape… to strangle the councillors.
You’re grounded. Every Ascension Day for over a century, visitors have flocked to St John's
College, Cambridge, to hear its famous choir sing from the top of the Chapel Tower. Not this one
hundredth and sixth year. No climbing the 163 foot tower. Health and Safety has stepped in. The
much-celebrated choristers belted out Hail The Day That Sees Him Rise - on the ground.
Halleluiah.
What could the wise and wonderful have planned for us the rest of the summer?
No lights, no decorations, no costumes, no Virgin Mary, no eggs, no flags, no fun. Standard
holidays have been removed from the British calendar, most traditional enjoyable outdoor
activities have been terminated and now that summer is upon us, the forward-thinking fascism of
the Health and Safety (Hindrance and Stupidity) councillors have been active the month of May.
Omelette or poached? When a Cambridgeshire primary school teacher, Jean Williams, wanted
her seven-year-olds to be amazed at how chicks develop from six eggs in a classroom incubator,
health and safety stepped in to thwart her efforts. It wasn’t a matter of free range, free range
organic, battery - it wasn’t because the little ones might throw them, crush them, eat them - it
was because the ever-visionary council health and safety officers insisted biological, electrical,
child and teacher risk-assessments would have to be implemented before soft, furry baby chicks
could come in contact with soft, non-furry seven-year olds. The council wondered and worried if
the incubator would be kept in school until the eggs were hatched….
Tree-hugging forbidden. Axes are out for a much-loved local landmark, the monkey puzzle tree,
which has stood on the village green at West Cross, near Swansea for the last 150 years. One
expert likened the effect of the needles to being pricked by a hypodermic syringe. ‘Every effort is
made in this day and age to prevent children playing with discarded syringe needles… every
effort must be made to prevent children coming into contact with these potentially, equally sharp
needles.’ Tree needles…heroin needles…I get it. Non-junkie couple who live with the tree in front
of their house have been unable to prick, puncture or stab themselves with the rarely shed
needles. Often described as a living fossil, its family the Araucariaceae can be traced back to
the Mesozoic era, which started 250 million years ago…Araucarias can live for 1,200 years and
reach 160 feet…trade in its timber is now banned because it is so rare and to some indigenous
peoples of Chile and Argentina, the tree is sacred… evidently not to the syringe-fearing ‘experts’.
Chop, chop.
No swimming here. For the past 25 years Lourdes Maxwell has been putting out a paddling pool
in the garden for her children, grandchildren and neighbours’ children and grandchildren. The
divorced full-time carer to her son must obtain insurance and a life-guard for two feet of water
before the paddling can begin. "Neighbours' children would come and enjoy the pool and I would
give them ice lollies. It was always a very social occasion. I asked around for insurance and they
just laughed at me. No one offers insurance for paddling pools…I'm always there to supervise
but they're trying to tell me I need lifeguards for a kiddies' pool as well - it's crazy." The crazy
council “…did not have sufficient assurances that the risks associated with providing such a
facility would be well-managed…and the risks associated with drowning…we want to help where
we can to ensure that it is a fun and safe place for everyone to use." Twenty-five years and the
death toll?
The party’s over. For more than a century, the inhabitants of Hatfield Broad Oak have marked
their special occasions with metres of bunting, as you do. In recent decades, the bright coloured
flags waving have become an integral part of the annual village festival. The council has handed
over six A4 sheets of paper with conditions to make the now necessary licence so complicated
and costly, it could be Naples. The bunting string would have to be attached to fixed points on
buildings using stainless steel bolts, which would need rigorous testing. Many of the houses are
listed so no stainless steel bolts on them. Perhaps village celebrators could make use of the
health and safety red tape… to strangle the councillors.
You’re grounded. Every Ascension Day for over a century, visitors have flocked to St John's
College, Cambridge, to hear its famous choir sing from the top of the Chapel Tower. Not this one
hundredth and sixth year. No climbing the 163 foot tower. Health and Safety has stepped in. The
much-celebrated choristers belted out Hail The Day That Sees Him Rise - on the ground.
Halleluiah.
What could the wise and wonderful have planned for us the rest of the summer?
