Dreaming of a golden time

A good friend pointed me in the direction of these exquisite lines from Housman a few months ago, and I thought of them again as I heard a man on the radio this morning, lamenting that for the sake of education, for the sake of health, the Executive at Stormont must be restored, our politicians must get off their fat asses.

I thought of Housman because, in the poem, he is remembering a time when life had a perfection, a beauty that can never be recaptured. Likewise, it seemed to me, our friend on the phone. If the politicians would get off their fat asses, we could address the problems in education and health.

No, Virginia, take the cat from the room immediately. Otherwise God knows what I’ll do to it.

So when the Executive was in place, education was getting better and better? Funny, that. I remember schools having their budgets squeezed , teachers drowning in bureaucracy, salaries capped so that teachers were earning less now than they had been five years earlier.

So when the Executive was in place, health was given the resources it needs? Nurses and doctors were happy with their salaries, which had been stuck at levels around what they were getting in 2012? Hospitals were smoothly purring efficiency units, with waiting lists were a mere matter of days if you were wanting, say, a hip-replacement?

Housman might have codded himself that he remembered a world of sweetness and beauty (I suspect he didn’t), but if we have more than three brain-cells we should be able to remember that things like education and health were in a parlous state when we had the Executive. They’re in a parlous state now, but the restoration of Stormont isn’t going to crack the problem.

For why? Because London holds the purse-strings, and that’s what decides the level of education and health on offer. Even the most skilful Executive can work only with what it’s given. And the giving comes from London. The fiddler calls the tunes.

Don’t you just love living in a colony?

A good friend pointed me in the direction of these exquisit lines from Housman a few months ago, and I thought of them as I heard a man on the radio this morning, lamenting that for the sake of education, for the sake of health, the Executive at Stormont must be restored, our politicians must get off their fat asses.

I thought of Housman because, in the poem, he is remembering a time when life had a perfection, a beauty that can never be re-found. Likewise, it seemed to me, our friend on the phone. If the politicians would get off their fat asses, we could address the problems in education and health.

No, Virginia, take the cat from the room, otherwise God knows what I’ll do to it.

So when the Executive was in place, education was getting better and better? Funny, that. I remember schools being squeezed in their budgets, teachers drowning in bureacracy, salaries capped so that teachers were earning less now than they had been five years ago.

So when the Executive was in place, health was given the resources it neds? Nurses and doctors were happy with their salaries, which had been stuck at levels around what they were getting gin 2012? Hospitals were smoothly purring efficiency units, with waiting lists a mere matter of days if you were wanting, say, a hip-replacement?

Housman might have codded himself that he once lived in a world of sweetness and beauty (I suspect he didn’t), but if we have more than three brain-cells we should be able to remember that things like education and health were in a parlous state when we had the Executive. They’re in a parlous state now, but the restoration of Stormont isn’t going to crack the problem.

For why? Because London holds the purse-strings, and that’s what decides the level of education and health on offer. Even the most skilful Executive can work only with what it’s given. And the giving comes from London.

Don’t you just love living in a colony?

A good friend pointed me in the direction of these exquisit lines from Housman a few months ago, and I thought of them as I heard a man on the radio this morning, lamenting that for the sake of education, for the sake of health, the Executive at Stormont must be restored, our politicians must get off their fat asses.

I thought of Housman because, in the poem, he is remembering a time when life had a perfection, a beauty that can never be re-found. Likewise, it seemed to me, our friend on the phone. If the politicians would get off their fat asses, we could address the problems in education and health.

No, Virginia, take the cat from the room, otherwise God knows what I’ll do to it.

So when the Executive was in place, education was getting better and better? Funny, that. I remember schools being squeezed in their budgets, teachers drowning in bureacracy, salaries capped so that teachers were earning less now than they had been five years ago.

So when the Executive was in place, health was given the resources it neds? Nurses and doctors were happy with their salaries, which had been stuck at levels around what they were getting gin 2012? Hospitals were smoothly purring efficiency units, with waiting lists a mere matter of days if you were wanting, say, a hip-replacement?

Housman might have codded himself that he once lived in a world of sweetness and beauty (I suspect he didn’t), but if we have more than three brain-cells we should be able to remember that things like education and health were in a parlous state when we had the Executive. They’re in a parlous state now, but the restoration of Stormont isn’t going to crack the problem.

For why? Because London holds the purse-strings, and that’s what decides the level of education and health on offer. Even the most skilful Executive can work only with what it’s given. And the giving comes from London.

Don’t you just love living in a colony?