The trouble with tipping

There are several things you're supposed to be able to do when you're a grown-up. Tie your own shoelaces, for example. Or maybe rustle up a nice meal. These are things you are either taught by your parents, or can research via books or the internet, or maybe you even learn how to do them through trial and error. 

If there's one thing, however, designed to not make me feel like much of a grown-up, it's the thorny subject of tipping. Certain countries have pretty clear-cut rules about these things - in Finland, for example, tipping is pretty much unheard of, whereas if you visit the USA, you know instinctively that you are guaranteed to run out of dollar bills the minute you walk into the country. We've visited developing countries in the past, where tipping is also widespread - hotel porters, tour guides, drivers - they all get that little supplement to their wages. 

In the UK, however, it's less clear-cut. I tend to round up for taxi drivers. In restaurants, 10-15% seems to be the norm, depending on the service. 

However, am I supposed to tip my window cleaner? I'm guessing the answer is no, as I'm paying him cash anyway.

Do you still give tips to refuse collectors at Christmas? I remember my parents doing so, but to be honest, we now seem to have so many different groups collecting our detritus (recycling, household waste, plastics, green waste) that I'd quickly be flat broke. Plus, I wouldn't be able to identify most of them anyway.

How about the same for the milkman? Yes, we still have one, but I'm normally safely tucked up in bed when he arrives. I could leave a card on the doorstep, but to be honest we've had bottles of milk stolen from our doorstep before, so I'm not taking chances with cash.

Maybe you see your postman regularly? I know I certainly do...however, it never seems to be our regular chap in the run-up to Christmas, and I feel a bit aggrieved at giving a card to the holiday help.

My biggest area of uncertainty, however, is hairdressers and beauticians. Let's face it, a visit to the salon is expensive enough as it is, without adding on an extra couple of quid for the junior who washed your hair, plus the stylist, and - in some cases - maybe a colourist, or even someone who blow-dried it. That's a lot of tips! Do you tip all of them? If yes, the same, or differing amounts? 

Then there's the act of handing over the cash itself. Are you one of those nonchalant people, who will cheerily hand over the correct amount with a "here you go, my good man"? Or perhaps you're more like me and turn bright red and mumble something incoherent as you hand over either a paltry embarrassment of a sum, or a tip so ridiculously large that it represents practically a months' salary.

I'm already starting to think maybe I should cut my own hair next time...

Exchange Money by epsos.de on Flickr

Other Things That Are Wasted on Other People

(Catchy title, eh?)

Following on from a comment on my previous post about maternity leave being wasted on babies, it seemed like a good opportunity to follow up with a light-hearted look at some of the other things that might also be wasted on other groups of people:

- Sex drives are wasted on teenagers. Because really - let's face it - the eager/horny little puppies don't really know what to do with themselves. By the time we've had enough practice to actually do it properly without being too hung up on our bodies, real life intervenes. Work stresses, having to pay a mortgage and - heaven forbid you've had enough sex to reproduce - children and the tiredness they cause don't do vast amounts for the libido. Sad, but true.

- Honeymoons are wasted on newlyweds. Following on from the previous point (and thank you to May Day for this one) - what you need after several years of the rat race and general drudgery is a holiday of a lifetime. A two-week blow-out, just the two of you, somewhere exotic where you can rekindle the passion of the heady first few months and spend time away from being just mummy and daddy. Problem is, it's generally frowned upon to go off gallivanting for two weeks in the Caribbean when you should be taking the offspring to a Cornish campsite like everyone else. Even assuming you have babysitters willing to put up with the little darlings, you've probably spent all your money on nappies and gin and can't afford it anyway.

- Requirements for little sleep are wasted on the elderly. My parents are retired. Yet they are often up and about at the same time as me in the mornings. Through choice! No alarm rousing them for work, no kids jumping on their heads. No, apparently once you are retired, you get urges to empty dishwashers at 7am. Again, this is patently unfair. Morning sprightliness should be the reserve of those of us who have to go and earn a crust. If we can't look forward to long lie-ins in our old age, what is there to look forward to? Mind you, the link between early mornings and falling asleep on the sofa after lunch does seem to be a strong one...

- Money is wasted on footballers. I don't think I really need to say much more about this one.

- Fast cars are wasted on middle-aged men with paunches and moustaches. They look silly, but they're the only ones who can afford them. Why couldn't I have an Aston Martin when I was 25?!

- A collection of killer heels is wasted on us home workers. *Sigh*

Go on, I bet you can think of a few more examples?

Blue Sky Thinking

How To Holiday Like A Celebrity

For most people in the UK, today is that first Monday in September that means back to school. Even David Cameron has finally come returned from his holidays and is back to running the country.

I do love a bit of people-watching, and have always found ports and airports to be useful for chance glimpses of those perhaps considered "celebrities" by some. In the past, Heston Blumenthal has overtaken me at the top of a ski slope, and on another occasion, Robbie Coltrane has lunched in the same mountainside restaurant as our party. In my previous life as a relatively regular visitor to Heathrow airport, I've come across people as random as Ruby Wax, Vivienne Westwood and "some bloke who used to be in Eastenders". With the exception of Ms Westwood, who appeared to have luggage enough for a football team (understandable, I guess) and several members of an "entourage", most of these famous types were going about their business much the same as most other people.

The ferry on the way back from Spain also happened to be one being frequented by British comedian and TV presenter Rowland Rivron, who, according to Wikipedia is a keen caravanner together with his wife Monica (author of the "caravan cookbook"). I confess I was not previously privy to this information about Mr Rivron's holiday preferences, so I was a little surprised to see his ageing Volvo pulling a caravan as we left the ferry at Portsmouth.

Again, on the boat, on the couple of occasions that I observed him, he appeared to go about his business like - gasp - any normal person.(With the exception of when I hissed loudly at my husband "THAT'S ROWLAND RIVRON" in earshot of what I realised later was his wife. Oops.)

It made me smile, therefore, when I came back to the UK to see this tweet from British TV news presenter Krishnan Guru-Murthy:

Get up on a Sunday morning to have breakfast in the square to find David Cameron is also in Pollenca
— Krishnan Guru-Murthy (@krishgm) August 19, 2012

Because of course, as with anything in life there is a hierarchy to celebrity and, by default to their holiday choices. Rowland Rivron had the benefit of looking and dressing like a slightly older version of my husband - a kind of everyman, if you will. Contrast this with how somebody much more in public life like a Prime Minister, or even the Beckhams, must have to holiday, and it strikes me that there is a fine balance between fame and fortune when it comes to choosing your holiday destination.

With incredible wealth comes the choice to holiday in the most luxurious destinations in the world...and yet you also find yourself ironically unable to venture much beyond the four walls of your accommodation for most of the time without being either photographed, mobbed, or being permanently accompanied by security staff. Yes, you may be staying in five-star hotels, on luxury yachts, or in your own personal holiday villa, but you can't just take your kids to the beach, see the sights or eat at the local restaurant without a great deal of inconvenience. At least our holiday plans aren't published all over the newspapers, with handy mock-ups of what our holiday snaps might look like:

Source

I think, on balance, I'd rather be Rowland Rivron in his caravan.

Five Year's Time Meme

I've been tagged at Lou in the "5 Years" Meme. I liked this one as it is a nice spontaneous one that I didn't have to think too hard about.

The rules are: answer the 5 questions, and pass it on to 5 other bloggers. Dead simple.

Where were you five years ago?

On maternity leave with DD1. She would still have been in the horrible nightmare of her first 8 weeks. Those first weeks when I was so tired I didn't know what to do with myself. She had terrible reflux as a baby, and would throw up pretty much most of her milk around 15 minutes after having fed. This meant we were on a nightmare cycle of perma-feeding. She wouldn't sleep properly as she was always hungry of course, and never put on enough weight. It was my most miserable time, and my health visitor was convinced I had a form of post-natal depression, although I still think it was more to do with the tiredness, as it lifted when she got stronger and started sleeping better. Strange how the overwhelming memory seems to be that tiredness, although she has brought such joy.

Where would you like to be five years from now?

Dull, I know, but probably pretty much where I am now, with a few more crow's feet! - I think I'm in a pretty happy state. In a slightly tidier and more "finished" house maybe (so many little jobs, sigh).

What is on your to-do list today?

Cleaning, cleaning and more cleaning. It's been two weeks since I let my cleaner go, and I haven't got round to finding a new one yet. The ironic thing is that I didn't think she was up to my imagined standards, yet in reality I am probably one of the messiest people I know. Still, at least I'm not paying someone to not clean properly - perfectly capable of that myself!

What five snacks do you enjoy?

Savoury over sweet any day!:

1) crisps - any variety, any flavour

2) dips - preferably with (1) above, but not fussy - will also eat them with veg, breadsticks, fingers... houmous top preference

3) Cheese... with a nice crunchy cracker

4) Nuts - roasted & salted

5) OK, under duress, my only sweet thing - Haribo sweets, yum. Childhood flavours.

What would you do if you were a billionaire?

Wow, a BILLionaire... not just a common or garden millionaire? I don't think I could even begin to comprehend what that would feel like. You hear about millionaires losing everything, or lottery winners managing to spend their entire winnings, but unless you bet it all on a horse, I would imagine a billion or two would never really run out. So, I suppose all the usual boring stuff - houses, holidays, cars for family and close friends. I would probably give a lot of it to charity - you would have to do something good with it. I dunno...bathe in champagne everyday...?

On that flight of fancy, I'd like to pass this one on to some of the blogs I have discovered recently:

Young and Younger

Monkey Mummy

Tiddlyompompom

Housewife Confidential

Wait Till Your Father Gets In