Peter Rhodes on meths, companion pets and the rewards of working in the workplace
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Babyboomers had the best of everything (free uni, jobs for life, Sergeant Pepper, etc) while later generations had to endure useless jobs, sky-high mortgages, zero-hours contracts and rap.


But there is another, subtler difference. When we boomers went to work, we actually worked.
We worked hard because that was the deal and not working meant letting down the team, which was shameful.
Times change. Keir Starmer is said to favour more working from home (WFH), claiming that “a culture of presenteeism” is bad for productivity.
There is a persistent rumour in Whitehall that Sir Keir's father was a toolmaker. I wonder what he would have made of a working culture where absenteeism is celebrated and walking the dog is considered “work.”
So farewell, Mamod, the steam-toy company which has become the unlikeliest victim of global terrorism.
The hexamine fuel blocks which fired the tiny boilers of Mamod products have been banned under anti-terrorism laws on the grounds that they can be used to make explosives.
The irony for us old Mamod fans is that the slow-burning blocks were introduced in the 1970s as a safety breakthrough, replacing methylated-spirit burners which were arguably the most dangerous plaything ever given to children. Many's the time you picked up a meths burner not knowing it was already alight. Character-forming days.
Parents of an anxious child in Scotland are fighting a legal battle for the child's “therapy dog” to be allowed to accompany her into the classroom.
Understandably, school authorities are worried where it might lead. There is a tendency for any mental-health syndrome to expand to fit the number of therapists available. You start off with one diagnosis and end up with dozens, until your teaching areas look more like Crufts than classrooms.
There's also the complicating factor in this multi-cultural society that some religions regard dogs as unclean. So one dog trots into your school and ten kids walk out.
And would it even stop with dogs? Who'd be a headteacher on the day that little Jack's companion dachshund goes missing and Laura's companion anaconda is looking strangely plump.