Long, long ago on a Policy Working Group far, far away…

I am reminded this week of one of the more quirky items on my political CV, something I did at a time when I was rather (incorrectly) more confident in my views than perhaps I am now.

Back in the days when I was a young Liberal Democrat, indeed Secretary of the Young Liberal Democrats, our then International Officer concluded that, in order to protect his budget, it was a good idea to send the organisation’s Chair and Secretary to a LYMEC (Liberal Youth Movement of the European Community) seminar entitled “Youth Culture in a Coca-Cola World” in Aarhus, Denmark. And whilst he probably wouldn’t have listened his budget anyway, it sounded like fun and so, off we went.

Much alcohol was consumed, and friendships made, and whilst my appetite for European politics was greatly enhanced, I didn’t think that it would lead to much.

That was, however, until Peter Ladanyi, our then Chair, was asked if he’d be willing to serve on an ELDR policy commission on culture. In those days, the European Parliament political groups were funded for policy making activity, and ELDR (now ALDE) had been granted funds for a culture policy working group. And, for reasons that never entirely became clear to me, Peter passed the invite onto me. With no real idea as to what I was getting myself into, I accepted without hesitation and became the European Liberal Youth representative on the ELDR Commission on European Culture.

It wasn’t an onerous task, consisting mostly of relatively short meetings in Brussels broken up by long and generally excellent lunches. And, after eighteen months of discussion during which we barely defined the meaning of culture, we broke up without reaching a meaningful conclusion.

My primary “partner in crime” on the policy commission was the Liberal Democrat representative, Dame Penelope Jessel, a former International Officer of the Liberal Party and one of the “grande dames” of the Party. Penelope chain smoked, thought nothing of travelling across the Sahara with the Polisario Front and was ever so slightly daunting. I suspect had I known more about her past, I’d have been rather more daunted. Our Chair, Professor José Augusto Seabra, learned quite quickly that we weren’t exactly seeing things the way he did, and tended not to push ideas that Penelope wasn’t convinced by.

Whilst the policy commission itself wasn’t a success, it did teach me a lot about collaborative policy making and how politics varied across Europe, lessons I occasionally put to good use later on.

And now, thirty-six years later, it looks as if I have another opportunity to use those skills again…

#interrail2026: day 3 - I'm sure that Denmark's lovely, but...

Flensburg lies at the head of an long inlet of the Baltic Sea, just south of the Danish border with Germany, and is probably most famous for two things - rum, and for being where the Third Reich took its formal dying breath. It's probably less famous for being twinned with Carlisle, but that's how the cookie crumbles, I guess.

I had about three hours to look around - I had a train to catch, oddly enough - and so I set off into the bright sunshine of a lovely day to walk around the harbour and take in some fresh air and a little scenery. And, as my first meaningful stop, the opportunity to stretch my legs and make a dent in my daily 10,000 steps was entirely welcome.

The waterfront has a nice promenade, with bars to drink the local Flensburger Pils should you be so inclined, but Flensburg is never going to attract tourists in huge numbers. It's a well to do sort of place, like so many small German towns and, having taken in the marina and a small museum on fishing, I headed for the town centre.

Flensburg has a quite good science museum, Phänomenta, where you can carry out various experiments, although time didn't permit a visit, and next to it is one of the old city gates, the Nordertor, which has been preserved and restored.

But I did have a train to catch, a Danish one. The Danes have trains that appear to have a rubber front for reasons you'd have to ask DSB, the Danish State Railways about. They are comfortable though, and their first class has a nice feature, unlimited tea and coffee, plus a light snack. And, because they trust their passengers, you can pour your own hot drinks - they have thermos flasks of hot water plus all the makings of your drink at the end of the carriage and if, like me, you like a corner seat away from your fellow passengers, you don't even have to get up to do it.

I had a connection at Kolding and, with a scheduled half an hour to kill, I chose to take a stroll into town - it wasn't far. Kolding was a pleasant surprise and, thanks to a delayed train, I ended up with time to stop for coffee and explore. Back on another train and this time, a little bagged lunch for the journey across the Great Belt to Copenhagen, which came in handy after I missed the next train, an Oresundstag service across southern Sweden.

My final destination was Karlskrona, a naval town in the south-east of Sweden, and I arrived as the sun was beginning to set, which meant that the walk to my hotel on the other side of the central square was done in that sort of gentle half-light which gives everything that vague dreamlike quality and gives the decided impression that you might really want to take a longer look.

I needed a beer though, and where better to find one than the Brewery Hotel which, in addition, serves some surprisingly good pizza. What better way to end a day…

Creeting St Peter: putting the administrative stuff to rights, one task at a time...

In my eight years as Chair of the Parish Council, I've held a number of roles. At one point, I was Chair, Acting Clerk and Responsible Finance Officer, a period which caused me huge levels of stress and was, in organisational terms, highly unsatisfactory. But sometimes, especially with a micro-parish, needs must. The show must, if you like, go on.

In my earlier incarnation, I was the Wildlife portfolio holder, which was a source of great amusement given that I still couldn't confidently identify even the obvious stuff and was still convinced that wolves stalked the land.

Now, I hold the portfolios for Website and Communication and Finance, which sounds harder than it is. Balancing a budget of £6,000 or so really shouldn't be that difficult, and the website isn't overly burdensome if I remain focussed.

Tonight, I've been setting payments up for authorisation - our Clerk's salary needs to be paid and invoices for our streetlighting, website, membership of the Suffolk Association of Local Councils and the drainage rates need to be settled, as well as our annual subscription with the Information Commissioner.

I've also written to our District and County Councillors to let them know what our meeting dates are for the next year - I could leave it to our Clerk but I sense that it's a better use of my time than of his (I have copied him in).

The next thing on my list is to help with preparations for our annual internal audit. We're pretty much ready, and it's as much a case of making sure that all of the invoices are readily available, that various reports have been uploaded to the Parish website and so on. We dealt with a lot of the essentials at our meeting on Monday, and our finances are healthy and properly reported, so I'm reasonably comfortable this year.

I'm also intent on preparing everything for a handover to whoever takes on my various responsibilities - I want them to not have to spend weeks wondering what on Earth I was doing.

Only a year to go...

#interrail2026 - day 2: across the Low Countries to Schleswig Holstein

It's time to catch up with the trip now that I'm back, so let's do just that... 

Early morning, Antwerp, and my first intention was to deal in a little nostalgia. But isn't Antwerpen Central just a little special? There's some outstanding architecture (and a very convenient zoo). And, as a place to start your journey in earnest, it's so much of an improvement on any of the Brussels stations.

Sadly, it was early, and I had miles to go before I slept. The obvious route to my intended destination would be via Amsterdam and a series of German high speed trains but where's the fun in that? And so, I was off on the 8.35 EuroCity Direct to Lelystad Centrum. Except, where was it? There was an 8.35 EuroCity Direct to Almere Centrum, which was in the right direction, and there was supposedly a connection that would work, so that was going to have to do.

But why Lelystad, capital of Flevoland? Many years ago, when I was still doing international youth politics, I attended a LYMEC (Liberal and Radical Youth Movement of the European Community) Congress there, which was one of the stranger events that I'd ever been to. And, whilst nostalgia isn't what it used to be, I thought that it would be nice to go back, if only to see if the place had changed much.

It hasn't. When I was there the first time, it had the architecture you would expect from an era when brushed concrete was fashionable and it still does. The town was en fete though, crowded with people selling their surplus possessions in the pedestrian shopping arcade that is the centre of the town. Apparently, this is part of the Koningsdag celebration, and that's what was going on.

I didn't stay long - I had trains to catch, first to Zwolle and then to Deventer, where I stopped for a quick walk. Deventer was unexpectedly charming, and they were clearly getting ready to have a good time, with a stage set up in the central square and plenty of orange clad people with beer. I might have to go back there sometime...

Onwards to Osnabruck, and another quick explore, before what was supposed to be the penultimate train of the day to Hamburg, which is where things started to go wrong, thanks to Deutsche Bahn. My connection lost by mere minutes, I took the opportunity to take a walk across Hamburg, skirting the Binnenalster, passing the incredibly impressive City Hall and making the train to Flensburg with enough time to spare to allow the purchase of a surprisingly good chicken sandwich.

Flensburg was dark, and quiet, but it had a hotel bed, and I'd survived the first full day of travel. It was going to be alright...

Creeting St Peter: like Frank Sinatra, I’m doing it my way…

As I noted a few months ago, 2026 is a bit of a transitional year for this bureaucrat. I’m gently stepping back from the world of Parish Councils and, on Monday, there was another key stage in that process as Creeting St Peter Parish Council held its Annual Meeting.

I had been flagging up the need for Council to replace me as Chair for some months, although the impression given by my colleagues was of rather wanting the problem to go away. But, when at the meeting, I made it absolutely clear that I would not offer myself for re-election under any circumstances, my Vice-Chair, Ayse Singh, nobly, albeit with conditions, accepted the chalice of power for the next year.

The conditions involve rather greater engagement from the Vice-Chair and, as part of the transition, and I suspect much to the relief of Council, I have taken that role on for the 2026/27 year.

Having seen Ayse chair her first meeting though, I think that she’ll do just fine.

Me? I’ll carry on with my finance and communication portfolios, and cover for Ayse as required. As part of that, I’ll be producing some medium and long-term strategic papers to take Creeting St Peter Parish Council forward and work with our Clerk, Mark Knight, to ensure that everything is ready for a new Council after next year’s elections.

After the appointment of a Chair and Vice-Chair, the business of the meeting was dealt with briskly enough. Our finances are healthy, we have our policies in place for another year and, in what I think is very good news, the Parochial Church Council, who I pointed in the direction of a grant opportunity at the end of last year, have received funds to restore the roof and replace the heating in the Church Room.

I’ve updated the Parish website to include the dates of our meetings for the next year, and to reflect the identity of our new Chair, and so I’m feeling a bit more up to date.

And so, the farewell tour gathers pace…

#interrail2026 - day 1: a detour with my family on the way to Antwerp

So, having retrieved my wallet, it was time to start my journey. Ipswich to Liverpool Street was easy enough - I even won the “Greater Anglia lottery” with the first class carriages actually on the 09.41. It’s all becoming a bit cheapskate these days, as Greater Anglia don’t offer free hot drinks and biscuits to first class passengers at weekends any more, but the new Stadler and Waldorf rolling stock is comfortable enough.

And then things started going a little haywire. My plan was to take the Elizabeth Line to Farringdon and then Thameslink to Brent Cross West, but, as it turned out, Thameslink was the victim of engineering works. So, the Metropolitan Line to Kings Cross St Pancras, where a rather grumpy barrier guard told me that my ticket wasn’t valid. “Your colleague at Farringdon told me to do this” sufficiently placated him to let me out and I then found myself heading upstream against hordes of Leeds United supporters heading for a bit of a disappointment at Wembley.

Brent Cross West is a brand new station, between Cricklewood and Hendon on the line to Luton and Bedford, and a short walk from there takes you to the bus to Kingsbury.

Lunch with my parents and my niece, Imogen, and plenty of conversation followed but, all too soon, it was time to move on. Immy accompanied me to Hendon where we parted company, and I headed for St Pancras International for what I had been led to believe would be the chaos of the new immigration procedures at the border. You might imagine my wry smile upon clearing security and French border control in ten minutes… 

Eurostar was uneventful, which seems like an odd thing to write as I think about it, although the notion of getting on a train and getting off it in another country is pretty revolutionary from a British perspective, and I made my connection at Brussels Gare du Midi with plenty of time to spare.

A short hop to Antwerpen Centraal and I was safely tucked up in my hotel room across the street from the Opera House.

Next, day 2 - why are so many people wearing orange?

#interrail2026 - starting with a near facepalm…

So, here I am, on the 09.41 from Ipswich to Liverpool Street, about to embark on another “epic” train journey. And yet, I nearly fell at the first hurdle…

You know how it is. Working out what to pack, making sure that you’ve got the right cables for your various bits of IT, checking that your passport is valid, all of these elements that, if missed, might cause inconvenience at some unwelcome point in a trip. But, I was somewhat better organised this time, and was packed the day before leaving - Ros’s organisational skills might be rubbing off at last.

I even woke up a bit earlier than usual, allowing a leisurely cup of coffee with the woman I love, before heading to the station rather earlier than necessary - another Ros trait the benefit of which I have come to appreciate.

I was halfway to the station when it dawned on me that I had everything except… my wallet… Now, as modern online banking has enabled me to do a surprising amount without ever having to find my wallet, I do have the sense that it might be better to have physical backup. And so, I bolted back to the house, collected the wallet and scurried off to the station, arriving to find my intended train on the platform.

Let’s try not to make that mistake again, shall we?…

Reflections of a dinosaur: the world of work changes…

I was on editorial duty at Liberal Democrat Voice yesterday and, as part of that, I try to promote each published article using our Bluesky account. My first comment began, “The work week starts here…”, I posted it and thought little more about it. Until, that is, I did think about it.

I’ve been employed by the same organisation for nearly forty years now, working in offices on, effectively, a 9-5, Monday to Friday basis. I am, you might say, somewhat institutionalised.

When I started, in the mid-eighties, if you wanted to talk to a professional, or purchase a service, you did it between 9 and 5, Monday to Friday. Shops were mostly shut on Sundays, on random midweek afternoons, depending on where you lived, and almost certainly weren’t open after 6. Your initial approach was in writing, using envelopes and stamps, or by telephone.

You could still hope to find a job for life, in an organisation which had a solid track record and expectation of longevity.

And that makes me a bit of a dinosaur. The emergence of the gig economy, the internet and the expectation that organisations will respond over longer hours and at weekends means that the idea of a “work week” is blurred beyond easy recognition.

With that have come benefits for some. My 9-5 has become 37 hours, where I could start at 7 a.m. or finish at 8 p.m., and flexible working hours mean that I can manage my attendance to suit my needs - within reason, obviously. But, as an “individual contributor”, as long as I keep my “customers” aware of my broad availability, nobody much minds.

On the downside, the end of “jobs for life” means that the loyalty of employees to employers, and the respect of employers for employees has frayed significantly. If employees feel like interchangeable widgets, employers shouldn’t be terribly surprised if said widgets seek a more rewarding machine to be a part of. And, in any event, as housing costs rise, the need to pursue better salaries means a more opportunistic workforce.

I tend to think that a degree of workforce stability is good for any organisation. You need a core of people who know their jobs, offer an institutional memory and are willing to share the experience and knowledge. But you also need to avoid continuous tinkering with structures and employee terms and conditions, something that I have observed increasingly both within my own organisation and others. Change, especially poorly explained change, is destabilising at best, and damaging to morale and productivity at worst.

Forty years has seen radical change in the world of work, and the pace of technological change only seems to accelerate. It may be time for this dinosaur to evolve or die…

Mark Ashton and Ipswich Town FC - a failure of leadership

The controversy over Nigel Farage’s publicity stunt at Portman Road, the home of the Tractor Boys, and my (very) local football club, has demonstrated the truism of the first Valladares Rule of political crisis, i.e. it’s not the wrongdoing itself that is fatal, it’s the botched coverup that follows.

If it had simply been that Nigel Farage and his PR team had entered Portman Road under false pretences and used the stadium as a backdrop for a publicity stunt, well, it would have asked some serious questions of the club staff but a few slapped wrists later and everyone might have moved on.

But, to issue a press release that basically disassociated the club from any knowledge or awareness of what was going to happen when, as it turns out, quite the opposite was the case, is probably the worst thing that could have happened for the club’s reputation and integrity.

Ipswich Town has always had a reputation as a family club, run for decades by the Cobbold family whose most famous quote suggested that the only time there was a crisis at the club was “when we run out of white wine in the boardroom…”. It is, and I can testify to this as a supporter of another club, at the heart of the county’s community. And, despite what many outsiders may think, Ipswich is quite a multicultural town.

As for the team, Congolese, Albanian, Angolan and Chilean players fill key positions on the pitch, and the British players are as ethnically diverse as any other team in the Football League.

That’s why what happened next became such a problem. A controversial political figure visiting such a workplace was bound to trigger a reaction amongst the staff, so it should have been pretty obvious that, if the press release wasn’t remotely truthful, then the facts would emerge.

“Nothing to do with me,” said CEO and Chairman, Mark Ashton, “we knew nothing about the visit in advance”. The emerging allegation that, far from knowing nothing, one of his staff had offered the invitation on his behalf and that, far from having nothing to do with him, he had actually arranged to have lunch with the Reform UK leader.

The pictures of Farage with an Ipswich Town shirt with the number 10 on the back? Reform staff had bought those from the club shop, we were assured. Sources happy to contradict that, both within the club and Reform UK indicated that a half-dozen shirts were prepared and handed over by the club.

So, in the post-Cadbury era, if a CEO had trashed the company’s reputation, and authorised the issue of a press release which seemingly gave an entirely false impression in order to save said CEO’s face, the Chairman would courteously invite the CEO to consider his future. Unfortunately, Mark Ashton is also the Chairman, so it seems reasonable to assume that, unless he is schizophrenic or has multiple personality disorder, that isn’t going to happen.

I do think that the owners will, if they have a sense of the feeling amongst the fanbase, act, if not to fire Ashton, who retains some support even now, then to discipline him publicly.

We know that the players are unhappy, and I suspect that the manager, Kieran McKenna, will be unhappy to have to deal with a major distraction in the midst of a serious promotion challenge. And, if there is any suggestion that said distraction denies Ipswich the promotion that the fans crave, I’m not sure that Ashton deserves to survive.

Local Government Reorganisation in Suffolk - the three Unitary solution has it...

The Conservatives at the County Council having thrown a large chunk of public money at trying to persuade us that what Suffolk really needed was a Unitary County, the Secretary of State, Steve Reed, has concluded that the three Unitary solution proposed by the Districts and Ipswich Borough Council was his preferred choice.

I have to admit that I'd rather have seen a rebirth of East and West Suffolk, as I was of the view that two councils, each serving around 400,000 residents, was probably more faithful to the criteria laid down by the Government and would offer two vaguely sensible and coherent geographical areas.

But Ipswich Labour wanted something that they might have an outside chance of winning and so, here we are. The proposals read as follows:

• Western Suffolk Council (current local government areas of West Suffolk, 21 parishes from Mid Suffolk, and Babergh (less 31 parishes)).

• Central and Eastern Suffolk Council (current local government areas of Mid Suffolk (less 29 parishes), and East Suffolk (less 25 parishes).

• Ipswich and South Suffolk Council (current local government areas of Ipswich, 31 parishes from Babergh, 8 parishes from Mid Suffolk, and 25 parishes from East Suffolk).

Admittedly, the Written Statement made to the two Houses of Parliament gets the constituent parts of Western and Central and Eastern mixed up - oh how we laughed when we read the Statement - but it does look like the decision is pretty much what the District/Ipswich bid proposed.

I would say that Western Suffolk, centred on Bury St Edmunds, and Ipswich and South Suffolk, centred on Ipswich, are broadly sensible, but Central and Eastern Suffolk, whose only significant town is Lowestoft at its north-eastern corner, stretches all the way across to Rattlesden, whose residents may well never have been to Lowestoft. And Creeting St Peter will be joining them, despite the fact that we're about ten miles from Ipswich, eighteen miles from Bury St Edmunds and forty-five from Lowestoft.

I'd argue that, if you really want to make local government feel remote from the citizens it serves, an arrangement like that will achieve exactly that, and a Unitary authority that includes the deprivation that Lowestoft suffers from, with the Notting Hill on Sea that is Aldeburgh, the "bow and arrow" county that is Eye and its surrounds and Stowmarket, with its sea of new housing estates, is going to suffer from a split personality pretty quickly.

And given that the new Unitary is highly likely to be "no overall control" from the outset, it could be a trying few years for those trying to make it all work.

The only consolation is how badly the Conservatives have taken the whole thing. Our prospective new County Councillor, Matthew Hicks, is apparently astounded, which given that the evidence is that Suffolk residents were opposed to a single Unitary by a margin of 2:1, merely reminds me how difficult Suffolk Conservatives find the whole "democracy thing".

But unless something is done to secure local government finances going forward, this may be only delaying the inevitable. Suffolk County Council was creaking under the costs of SEND and social care, and neither of those is going to improve any time soon, so this may be just a first step towards a Unitary County or even a Region. Only time will tell...

Thredling - a warning of things to come?

The late breaking decision to reinstate the County Council elections in May means that the new boundaries for Suffolk County Council kick in. And yes, the elections should be taking place but, for Creeting St Peter, it comes with a bit of a sense of loss.

I don't tend to be too kindly towards non-Liberal Democrat councillors - for obvious reasons - but the new boundaries mean that our current County Councillor will be fighting a division that doesn't include us, and it must be said that he has, from our perspective, done a very good job, attending as many Parish Council meetings as he can - indeed, he's missed precious few - and playing a full part in our meetings. You might almost say that he's been our "sixth councillor".

At our meeting last week, my colleagues and I passed a motion thanking him for his service to our community, which is not a common event in our recent history. And yes, Keith Welham is a Green, but credit where credit is due. In fairness, he's probably fit in nicely with the Liberal Democrats, but the Greens asked him first, apparently, so their gain is our loss, I suppose.

Instead, we leave Stowmarket North and Stowupland and have been assigned to Thredling division. Don't look for Thredling on a map of Mid Suffolk - you won't find it - as, in the traditional Suffolk fashion for never discarding anything, the division is named after a Saxon hundred (see also Bosmere, Thedwastre, Thingoe...).

Thredling is a diverse County division, consisting of twenty-five parishes across a swathe of Mid Suffolk with little in common. The current incumbent is Matthew Hicks, the Conservative Leader of the County Council, who has usually won with plenty to spare. He might not have it so easy this time.

The Greens will no doubt give him a stiffer challenge, given that they did well in a lot of the constituent District wards in 2023, and he can expect to haemorrhage votes to Reform to the right but, regardless of who wins, I don't expect to see much of them - trying to find time to visit twenty-five parishes and attend all of those County meetings would be a stretch for anyone.

And, perhaps more critically, we've done very well out of the locality funds for our County and District Councillors in recent years, and whoever wins in Thredling will have many more calls on those funds than Keith ever had. Luckily, we probably don't need very much just now, but you never know.

I will make a point of inviting all of the candidates to attend our Annual Parish Meeting on 18 May - if you don't ask, you certainly won't get - but I won't be delaying the start of the meeting in the hope that they're simply running late...

Creeting St Peter: keeping the finances on an even keel

As my reign of terror glorious leadership of Creeting St Peter Parish Council nears its end, I am beginning to reflect on what I’ve achieved during the nearly eight years that I’ve been its Chair.

It would be self-indulgent to take too much credit - I’ve been lucky enough to have had the support of two good Parish Clerks whom I could trust to handle the administrative stuff and keep the show on the road, and fellow councillors who have both placed their trust in me and shared the load in terms of tasks performed.

But there are some things that have been successful over the years.

I’m still proud of the efforts we put in (and still put in) on the Gateway 14 development. We wrote a serious, credible response to the initial hybrid planning application - much of which turned out to be entirely prescient - and continue to lobby the District Council to fulfil their commitments as owner of the site.

We got new street lighting for the village - taking advantage of a County Council offer to let us piggyback on their massive order. As a result, we have streetlights that work, cost less to maintain and power, and reduce light pollution.

The new speed indicator device has evidently reduced speeding through the village, making the effective shared space - we don’t have pavements - safer for everyone.

And the finances are healthy. I had worried about staffing costs, but the retirement of our Responsible Finance Officer has been managed in terms of expenditure, and we have been able to freeze the precept for 2026/27. Quirkily, because the number of households has increased marginally - don’t ask me how - this means a small cut in the Band D charge.

My successor as Chair will inherit some challenges, it is true. Rumoured housing development will, if it happens, encroach further towards the village, and our new County Councillor (and the replacement Unitary Councillor in due course) will be more remote and probably less generous in terms of grants. They will, however, have a solid financial and organisational base to work from.

I’d like to think that I’ve done my best, and whilst I may not have always been entirely focused, my heart has been in the right place. I’ve learned an awful lot about governance, leadership and community, and had the opportunity to play a role on the national stage for our sector.

All in all, not too bad, I guess…

Natalism: the next "interesting" set of policies coming our way?

If you follow what Reform UK are campaigning on, and I wish that I didn't, you know that many of their ideas come from thinktanks which slavishly follow a right-wing perspective. Reduce immigration, attack benefit claimants, penalise diversity - that sort of thing.

But, taking immigration, if you've succeeded in restricting the number of new immigrants to virtually none, you've then got the problem of how you maintain the size of the workforce in what is likely to be an aging population, given that the rate of births per woman over lifetime has fallen below the replacement rate, something which is true across most of the developed nations.

Well, the Heritage Foundation, one of America's leading conservative thinktanks, has a series of suggestions. You might not like them, especially if your idea of a model family is not one with a husband, a wife, 2.2 children, a house in the suburbs with a picket fence and some sort of medium-sized dog.

Naturally, single parents are an abomination, and unmarried ones almost as bad, so our friends at the Heritage Foundation recommend something termed a "marriage bootcamp",

where non-profits, including church groups, could run a program that covers important topics like communication, money management, blended families, fidelity, and conflict resolution. Successful completion of the program would mean that couples are ready to walk down the aisle at a communal wedding by the end of the bootcamp. The bride and groom would also be matched with a mentor couple to help them to navigate the highs and lows of early married life.

Now that may seem idyllic to the sort of people who would give the Moonies a second hearing, but I’m not sure that it sits well in a society where we have been told that there is no such thing as society. It also smacks of state-sponsored relationships, following a cookie-cutter pattern.

Tomorrow, I’ll look at the bribes they’re proposing to offer…

Thinking about trains again...

Professional training takes me to Croydon in a few weeks time which means navigating our official travel provider's website. And clearly, it's been a while since I've done so because I was surprised today to find that the new one works extremely well, which is not a phrase commonly associated with anything in the public sector and particularly anything contracted out by the public sector.

But it rather led me to thinking about trains (aahhh, trains...).

Firstly, what very good value a Senior Railcard is at £70 for three years if, like me, you don't drive. I paid mine off within the first month, and it even saves you, the taxpayer, money as I use the railcard, paid for out of my own funds, to buy discounted tickets for work purposes.

But I also got to thinking about interrailing, which is a bad idea. Last year, I travelled to Lecce via Nuremburg, Brno and Udine, and back via Rimini, Basle and Mainz, with a detour through Liechtenstein in search of schnitzel. But, if another opportunity arises, I'm thinking of heading to the Arctic Circle... And yes, there might not be schnitzel (which is a pity) but the scenery would be stunning...

Does technology offer a solution to my lack of focus?

Ten years ago, I got myself a Fitbit and started walking 10,000 steps each day. And, apart from a brief, food poisoning induced, hiatus in February 2016, I haven’t missed a day since.

The Fitbit kept me on track, reminding me to walk, and congratulating me when I reached my target, which feels like the right sort of motivational tool for someone like me. The calendar on my smartphone reminds me of events to attend, and sometimes I’m even prepared for them.

But my organisational capability has, up until now, relied on my fairly reliable memory. And, whilst it is generally good, I do tend to be easily distracted from carrying out essential tasks. And so, I’m trying out an app-based reminder system, which offers me an e-mail highlighting the tasks to be carried out that day. So far, I would have to say that it hasn’t entirely dealt with my tendencies to prevaricate, but I do have a sense of mild progress.

I’m also working with a shopping list app that Ros can add things to, reminding me to pick them up on my lunchtime walk around the town.

Think of it as less “building a bettter walrus” than “developing a more organised walrus”. Wish me luck!

Creeting St Peter: another year of financial prudence

In my capacity as finance portfolio holder for my beloved Parish Council, over the years I’ve been preparing what I tend to think of as cautious budgets, designed to meet our ongoing spending needs and avoid drastic year on year increases in the precept. That hasn’t always been easy.

When our Clerk resigned a few years back, it proved necessary to employ both a Clerk and a Responsible Finance Officer, increasing our required spend quite significantly. Luckily, I was able to manage the situation thanks to a lengthy period without any professional staff at all - I was, for a while, Chair, Clerk and Responsible Finance Officer and, as a sitting councillor can’t take a salary, the resulting savings came in handy later.

But I had it all covered and then, suddenly, our Responsible Finance Officer retired, meaning that we were, suddenly, underspending on our salaries budget line once again.

As a result, our reserves increased a bit and I was able to freeze the precept. This year, I’ve proposed another standstill budget. Curiously, or at least, it was curious to me until I gained a better understanding of parish council finances, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the band D charge is unchanged. Each year, Mid Suffolk District Council tell us how many qualifying households there are in the parish. If that number increases, the band D charge is reduced slightly, and the reverse is true if the number decreases.

We have increased the hours of our Clerk, who has taken on the role of Responsible Finance Officer, but otherwise our spending remains modest. We do need to pay for grass cutting, dig bin emptying and street lighting - we own our ten street lights but have a maintenance contract with Suffolk County Council - and we have subscriptions to pay to the Suffolk Association of Local Councils and the National Association of Local Councils amongst other things. But most of these are predictable and subject to modest annual increases at or around the rate of inflation, so making budgeting pretty straightforward.

And, as it may be the last budget I draft, I’m pleased that I’ll be leaving the Council with extremely healthy finances. Indeed, it might be said that our most pressing concern is to reduce our reserves somewhat, given that we currently hold reserves representing about 250% of our annual budget. Some of this is earmarked to replace aging play equipment, and some will go towards replacing the street lights in 2046 or thereabouts, but there is some money that really could be spent on village improvements, if it wasn’t for the fact that most of our meagre needs are generously met from the locality funds of our County and District Councillors.

Something for me to reflect upon in the months ahead, perhaps?…

All aboard the Mattapan Trolley!

Those of you who know me modestly well will know that I am an aficionado of public transport, or transit as I guess I should call it when across the pond. I am particularly fond of old trams and, having discovered that Boston’s MBTA (Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority) still runs a few, I decided to go take a look whilst I still had the chance to do so.

The Boston subway system is a bit of a hybrid. The Blue, Orange and Red Lines are familiar in that they look like “proper” underground trains. The Green Line runs underground in downtown Boston but is really a light rail system which uses trams as rolling stock. But, partway down the Red Line at Ashmont, the regular trains stop and are replaced by seventy year-old PCC streetcars to serve the 2.6 mile stretch onwards to Mattapan.

There’s talk of upgrading the line, and thus replacing the streetcars with something more practical and modern (people have no sense of romance…), so I thought that I’d better take a ride whilst I still can.

New Year’s Day was cold, with a stiff breeze making the positively balmy minus four degrees feel more like minus seven but, thanks to Ros, I was properly equipped with a heavy coat, woollen scarf, gloves and fleece-lined beanie hat to cover my head and ears. And, taking advantage of the MBTA commuter rail New Year day ticket (just $10 for as many rides on the extensive suburban rail system as you can bear), I set off from West Natick for Boston’s South Station and the onward Red Line south.

I couldn’t tell you anything about Ashmont, as it was merely an interchange point, and, having found where the Mattapan Line picks up, it wasn’t long before an orange streetcar honed into view and I hopped aboard.

They aren’t exactly designed for comfort, with hard, plastic seats, but you’re never going to be on board for long, so I guess that it doesn’t really matter that much.

This one was car #3238, which has undergone a rebuild, but still has the feel of something older even than I am.

At Mattapan, I took advantage of the opportunity to take a few pictures before heading the local branch of that New England fixture, Dunkin’ Donuts, for a doughnut and a hot coffee.

And I can tell you, I needed the latter…

Adventures with Elsa (other princesses are available)

One of the unexpected side effects of being a grandparent of a five-year-old girl is exposure to the full array of Disney princesses. And yes, I know that Elsa is a queen, not a princess, but you know what I mean, right?

Our granddaughter is seldom happier than when she has a flowing dress to wear or, at least, she has been up until now. There is an emerging “threat” to this comfortable state of affairs.

For she has discovered KPop Demon Hunters, this summer’s unexpected hit. They don’t really fit with the “princess vibe” and it offers a challenge to a culturally challenged grandfather such as myself.

I’d familiarised myself with Frozen, and can do “Let It Go” jokes with the best of them. Moana was easy enough, as who can’t empathise with a giant crab with a magpie-like attraction to everything shiny? And it’s interesting how Disney has produced a series of films with strong female characters over recent years.

A Korean film about a girl band fighting demons masquerading as a boy band is a bit more of a stretch when your musical tastes tend to feature the gamut of late sixteenth/early seventeenth century madrigals (confusingly, the name of the family in Encanto). The tunes seem catchy enough though, and whilst the material might feel a bit more young teenager appropriate, our granddaughter has memorised the lyrics well enough to sing along on car journeys.

Rumi, Mira and Zoey are the members of HUNTR/X (pronounce the / as an “I”), who sing hit songs and secretly fight demons (I admit, the title is a bit of a giveaway). They are, naturally, strong personalities in control of their own careers - their male manager is more comic relief than Svengali.

Please don’t ask me about the plot - I’ve so far managed to avoid watching more than excerpts - but the news that a second film is being planned with much merchandise due to hit high streets soon indicates that the concept has been wildly successful. So, if you haven’t encountered KPop Demon Hunters yet, rest assured you probably will…

There are mixed feelings about this bargain…

When I gave up on The Times a few years ago, I reinvested those freed-up funds into some proper journalism - the Economist and the Washington Post. Quentin Letts had been the trigger for me, but it was probably inevitable - newspaper of record, indeed - although I did think that I was probably getting the better of the deal.

And, despite all of the gloom, I still value my subscriptions. At least, I did until Jeff Bezos decided to place his mark on the Washington Post. Now, regardless of what your preferences in terms of coverage, what most thinking people want is something which reports events and comments upon them as it sees fit. I don’t have to agree with the views expressed, and if they’re well articulated and reflect the facts, I’m content to consider them with a relatively open mind. The important thing is that the reporting and the commentary are distinct from one another.

My disappointment with the Washington Post led me to cancel my annual subscription during the autumn. The immediate response was to offer me a $50 discount on a renewal - a not shabby 42% or thereabouts. I wasn’t tempted, although I wasn’t particularly attracted by the obvious replacement, the New York Times.

And so, on Christmas Eve, my subscription ran out. But a further offer was forthcoming, to renew for a derisory $20 for the first year, and €70 per year thereafter. Now, that’s a lot of money, and $20 is good value for the puzzles alone. And so, I bit.

That does suggest that my principles are a little “fuzzier” than I might like to admit, but it also suggest that the Washington Post either:

• is losing significant numbers of readers, or;
• is willing to lose money to retain its reach, or;
• both

This does not fill one with optimism.

Nonetheless, they’ve persuaded me to stay for at least another year, which reminds me, I’ve got today’s word puzzles to do…

2026 — a year of transition…

So, the fireworks have gone off, and a new year has begun. I gave up making public announcements of resolutions made a long time ago - why broadcast your failures? - and this year is no exception. But I can be fairly sure that some things will happen in the coming year.

First, it’s my firm intention to bring my reign of terror leadership of Creeting St Peter Parish Council to a close in May. Now, I acknowledge that I’ve been trying to do this for a while though, and there may be some resistance - either I’m making the job look harder than it actually is, or my colleagues are perhaps too comfortable as things are - but given that 2027 is a year of transition anyway, it’s probably best that someone who might be around in the next cycle takes the role on.

Second, my rather unexpected time on the national stage of the first tier of local government will come to an end in September. I had never dreamt that being the Chair of a very small Parish Council might have wider repercussions, but with my approaching ineligibility as a parish councillor (yes, it all comes to an end in May 2027), I will feel obliged to pass on my NALC National Assembly seat and thus my place on its Smaller Councils Committee.

I will depart knowing that I’ve made a difference. The financial reporting to National Assembly is hugely improved, and my questioning of reports was part of the process of change. When I’m on form, I’m good at scrutiny, and the outgoing Vice Chair Finance, Peter Davey, was keen to respond. He was gracious enough to give me some credit, although the hard work was done by Peter and the professional team.

I also lobbied for the micro council sector. 40% of parish and town councils have an annual budget of £10,000 or less, and the debate at NALC always seemed to rather overlook the fact that our part of the sector is much more about representation and community than providing services. The recently created Micro Councils Network offers a forum for councillors to discuss the issues that affect us - difficulties with Clerk recruitment, administrative challenges, etc - and to seek advice or best practice. Simplified guidance appropriate to our sector is being produced, something that will be welcomed by many.

But all good things must come to an end. I’m the sort of liberal who believes that power should be shared and passed on, so I’m relaxed about that.

Other than that, much is uncertain. Travel plans are still emerging, as is my professional role. Mind you, I am in the slightly bemusing position of being able to retire, or partially retire, at a time of my choosing, which adds to the palette of possibilities. I do think that I ought to give some thought to a post-work world at some point though.

But, whatever else happens, it will happen with Ros, which is nice…