Life in the straightjacket

My new net home

2010-11-18T20:11:00.001Z

Just a little heads - up as to where I am now:

www.lojango.com

Please stop by and have a look, you might even see something you like.

4 years

2010-03-07T07:10:00.002Z

It's 4 years since I started this blog and really I don't have time for it anymore. It's been sort of cathartic writing a lot of the stuff but the creative side of my life has now been taken over by my new occupation, millinery. Not new as in a new skill, I've been doing it off and on for almost 15 years but only now have I taken it on full time. Relieved of running our building company since WH's accident, there really isn't much company left anyhow since his enforced retirement, I have time and energy to do what I want to do.

So hats it is then. I'll have a web site soon (when I get time for THAT) but as for this blog I'm afraid it's curtains. Thanks for reading and have a nice life, mine is definitely good right now.

Time flies

2010-02-05T08:16:00.003Z

I thought that was only when you are enjoying yourself. Not true!

I'm STILL recovering from the nasty bug which I have now had since the beginning of November. My GP was forthright, OK I agree with the other chap you saw you have had Swine Flu. Well stone the crows, he hadn't told me that so I was gobsmacked to say the least. It did sort of explain why I am still suffering.

Anyway enough of me, it's been really hectic around here. This week we finally got got Mother in Law into a nursing home after several false starts and a run in with her newly appointed social worker who scuppered the whole thing more than once. Devon has a shortage of social workers so they are obviously now appointing chairs instead. WH got more sense from the chair than that guy spoke. It took 3 hours to fill out a form and if we didn't understand it the erstwhile social worker certainly didn't. If it hadn't been for the staff nurse from the PCT we would still be there now, a whole week later.

WH had his fractures reviewed and it was bad news, more time off work and he has little use in his right hand. More physio was called for, so feeling more hopeful he went to his next appointment. The physiotherapist told him to carry on doing the exercises he already was doing, no examination and nothing whilst he was there to check was he was doing, nothing, Nada. He could have had the consult over the phone and saved everyone some time and the NHS some money because God Knows they've wasted enough telling him absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile we've been planning a new strategy for this summer. We have to have some income from something, he hasn't worked since August and I haven't worked outside the home for 18 years now so we're going to do something together, each doing the bits we are able to. So far it's all under wraps but suffice to say we have bought a caravan, a temporary home for our new career and have been beavering away to prepare, OK not as hard as most people would beaver away but a little bit between rests, naps and doctors appointments.

More later.

Crocodile tears

2010-01-04T08:41:00.002Z

I've had pneumonia for the last 3 weeks. On my second lot of antibiotics, the rot seems to have stopped and I am actually improving now which makes for a nice change. Once again however I am at the mercy of medication which I take 4 times a day and which must be followed by food an hour later. I tried to do it without the food and oh boy did I feel bad. So food it is, every six hours. Unable to taste anything since well before Christmas I've only been eating the barest minimum of a fairly boring diet of ham sandwiches, jelly and fruit, ice cream and the odd oven chip when WH has been catering for himself.

I've not been up to cooking, the last time I did cook was Boxing Day. So on Saturday WH really did fancy something different and something that he didn't have to provide himself so suggested an Indian meal. I remembered that we had had a new takeaway open in a neighbouring village last autumn, their menu had looked anything but the usual run of the mill and what is more they offered free delivery up to a mile radius. WH left the ordering to me, not a brilliant move as I have very little voice right now and they did have somewhat of a problem understanding me, but he was hospital visiting yet again, so I made the best of it and hoped.

Twenty minutes late the door bell rang and a charming chap whom I vaguely recognised apologised for the delay, reduced the bill and gave me a free bottle of wine, a perfectly respectable Pinot Grigio. By now we were both hungry, my meds had been taken almost 2 hours before and the need for food was getting urgent.

Wow, what food. Loads of it, nicely presented and with extras, always a good sign. It made up for the late delivery but as it was icy and snowy I certainly wasn't about to complain. I opened with seek kebab, it was manna from heaven, came with a really different dressing and a tub of green salad. WH had opted for Onion bhaji, a predictably mild choice (as expected really) but pronounced them gorgeous. For his main he had Tandoori chicken, a huge chicken half with a massive side salad and sauce and a stuffed kheema nan which was light, fluffy and full of spicy lamb. I didn't want a whole main course so had opted for another starter, one I had never heard of before, Chicken Crocodile Tears which according to the menu is apparently a Bangladeshi speciality, cubed, marinated and grilled chicken with roasted veggies in a pineapple sauce. To say it blew me away was the understatement of the century. It was divine. Maybe my taste buds had burst back into life at that precise moment, I don't know but whatever, it was the best Indian meal I've ever eaten. The 'free' popadoms with chutney were great too, the wine will have to wait until I'm off the meds.

One thing is for sure, my new year's resolution is to order Crocodile Tears from that place again (and again and again)!

Merry Christmas.

2009-12-24T05:56:00.003Z

A whole month since I last posted here. No I haven't left you but it has been so hectic here I haven't had chance to write. and now I do it's yet another tale of woe.

My Mother in Law who is 89 has had to move into full time care this week after 9 months of in/out/in again hospital care and a continuing saga of 'events' which have had to be dealt with by family, district nurse, doctors or whoever depending on their nature. Finally the GP has said she is not safe at home mostly due to her refusal to accept appropriate help. The strain on the family has been immense and when she has been home it has been a near full-time job for 3 people. Luckily my input was mostly on the catering front so a little easier to cope with although it has felt odd this week not to be getting up at 7.30 and cooking. Three mornings a week since March I have cooked dinners, 2 on each of 2 days and 3 on a Friday. Full meals with hot puddings and custard which could then be cling filmed, labelled, taken 3 miles and then re-heated by the lunchtime carer.

I got quite organised producing batches of puddings and stews and the like which I then froze, so I could provide a variety of different home made dishes. Now we need to eat our way through all the ones remaining in the freezer, an awkward task as they are such tiny portions and WH will need 3 tubs of stew to feel like he has eaten anything.

Meanwhile we will be having a very odd Christmas, visiting Mother in Law and spending most of the day just the two of us, just youngest stepdaughter popping in for tea and to collect her presents. The main family are coming here on Boxing Day. Just as well it will be quiet really, I have a really bad dose of Bronchitis, picked up on one of the numerous hospital visits. Immuno-compromised by the methotrexate I left it a bit late to go and get antibiotics from the GP so now I am really suffering. At least cooking for 2 will be a doddle but we can always have a hot pudding from the freezer if it all become too much!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Snippets

2009-11-23T16:11:00.004Z

Sitting in the village surgery waiting room (just for a change) there was a long delay and the room was almost full. Three elderly ladies were putting the world to rights and debated the perils of autumn leaves in the garden, the old man down the road and the problems of getting a decent winter vest, over the course of fifteen minutes or so. They were then joined by another lady who told them that the postal-strike talks over the previous two days had now apparently broken down. "What?" said the hithertoo quietest of the other three, "God knows what they find to talk about," she said, "two whole days and they talk about absolutely nothing." Three single words came into my mind, pot, kettle and black.

Mother in Law was re-admitted to hospital after some stitches from her recent surgery started to bleed out. Naturally WH had gone in with her and had been away from here 8 hours or so dealing with it all. Half an hour after his return, the ward sister phoned to tell us of Mother in Law's admission as Mother in Law thought we might not know.

I found a lovely quote in a book I was reading by Santa Montefiore. Being questioned about his background, a chap who wanted to be evasive gave the following answer "My parents are in the iron and steel business, Mother irons and Father steals." I love it, just wish I had an opportunity to use it.

On a black, rainy, dismal day last week, the engineer arrived to set up our new stereo system. He'd come from Bristol and his sat-nav had sent him up some tiny country lanes but eventually he had hit the main drag so to speak, down the valley and into our small village. He was full of it, the narrow lanes and high hedges and the view from the top of the hill, the little village spread out below and he couldn't stop enthusing about it. "All we need is some sun and it would look like paradise," On a good day, I almost agree.

Is it really worth it

2009-10-25T05:04:00.008Z

WH has his right arm in plaster, the result of his fall from the porch roof several weeks ago. Last Monday the wires were removed from the break in his wrist and he goes back to be assessed a week tomorrow. He hopes he will be having the plaster removed but it is not a given, he has to have the break X-rayed first. His left foot is not in plaster although he has a broken bone. After a week in plaster it was stable, so after scans and X-rays whilst he was under anaesthetic having his wrist wired, the plaster was removed. This to make his life a little easier although had he not had the wrist injury the leg would be still in plaster. He is not supposed to weight bear more than 50% on that foot and crutches are out of the question due to the broken wrist so he hobbles along with a stick.

Being self employed WH applied for Incapacity Benefit, as his is right as a payer of National Insurance contributions. He has no other income right now. You can't pay yourself Statutory Sick Pay so that is what you do when you're Self Employed. The forms were complicated and he had to send medical certificates etc in his case issued by the hospital on the day of his original accident. After about 4 weeks he was notified he would get a minimal payment. This week however he has been summonsed to attend a medical assessment interview by the Department for Work and Pensions (or rather their big buddies Atos Healthcare). If he had any questions he could phone a number. He did. He phoned. He asked why he had to be assessed given his spectacular, plain to see injuries and the fact he had a medical certificate describing this which more than covered him. He still has a black eye 6 weeks after the event.

He was told he has to be checked to make sure he really has broken his wrist etc. This check will be carried out by a "health care professional", NOT a doctor then. A certificate issued by a doctor is not sufficient. If he doesn't attend the assessment his benefit will be stopped.

His anger rapidly turned to disbelief was he when he was told that that the BA has to make sure that he is not capable of any work. He told them he HAS work when he is fit again, after all he runs his own business and strangely has had more enquiries from customers in the last 6 weeks than he has had all year. He questioned what sort of work a person could do who was immobile and can't use their dominant hand. "Oh there may be something."

So the appointment was made. A letter confirming this arrived yesterday along with a leaflet basically designed to scare the crap out of anyone who was thinking of not turning up. Attached to the appointment was a 'route plan' giving detailed instructions of how to get to the centre, which is 27 miles away, via public transport. Now we live in a rural area. Buses are not very frequent so the gist of this was that in order to arrive at a 2.10pm appointment he needed to leave home at 9 minutes past ten, take a bus 15 miles in the wrong direction, wait half an hour then take another bus past where he had come from followed by another 7 buses with finally a walk of 16 minutes duration. The route proudly proclaimed "Number of changes = 7, Journey duration 2hrs 44 minutes". You would then have to wait over an hour for the appointment which was likely to take a "minimum of 75 minutes but allow 2 hours in total". No return route was sent as as it can't be done on the same day. There is no public transport. There was no suggestion as to what he should do in that case. The booklet supplied states that "You will not be asked to attend an examination centre which would require a journey of more than 90 minutes each way by public transport" No problem with doing that then in the case of someone with their leg in plaster.

Well obviously I will be driving him there. It takes about 40 minutes and we can park quite close by in a public car park.

My question is this. If someone is desperate for the benefit, and given the parlous state of the NHS there are undoubtedly genuine claimants out there, how are they supposed to manage all this when they are going in the first place because they are ill? More to the point why is the Department for Work and Pensions wasting money paying fees to Atos Healthcare to assess people who clearly are very incapacitated but who fully intend to return to their regular job or business when they have recovered? A case of jobs for the boys I think and bugger the poor old public yet again.

Atos Healthcare? All they care about is their bank balance.

The colour purple

2009-10-20T18:53:00.007Z

Christmas is a-coming. I know it's almost 2 months away but everything seems to be in the shops already. For once I've got my act together and got some stuff in hand but the one present that's concerning me today is my own.

I just saw this shoulder bag on a new Accessory boutique, Pretty and Witty, and I love it, me who normally spends £15 in Asda or Tescos top whack. Maybe it's something to do with the colour, maybe it's the style - I just can't do regular 'hand' bags with my arthritis - or maybe it's because it's not *that* far from my usual price range but I have to have it. I'm telling WH it has to go in my stocking this year.

Not that I don't just love all those other much more expensive ones but being sort of out of the market as it were with my rubbish hands I could never buy one as WH would be carrying it everywhere for me and moaning about the privilege. My 'hold' time for anything is 5 minutes max and that's no exaggeration. But a girl can dream. I defy anyone to not love some of them. For now I settled with a beautiful Saddler purse from the same boutique a couple of weeks ago, and you guessed it, mine is purple and soooo soft, it will look great in that handbag on Christmas morning.

WH you have been well and truly warned.

Home Sweet Home

2009-10-11T17:26:00.003Z

I've finally sold my old house. Eighteen months ago I tried to sell, gave up and rented it, then had to kick the tenants out because they wrecked it and then I re-marketed. Now some 14 weeks after I accepted an offer I finally have the money in the bank and the paperwork all completed. Not a moment too soon. The estate agent was no help at all, and considering the huge fee I had to pay them, I still did all the chasing-up myself.

This week we have a gardener starting on the back at last. this was to be WH's project over a month ago but falling off the roof gave him a good excuse not to! Now, weeks of glorious weather wasted we have finally found a chap who can dig, put in fence-posts and lay a block wall. If it keeps reasonably dry I might have some plantable ground by November.

Who knows by next spring, after owning this house for two whole years, I may even have a garden to call my own!

Birthday presents

2009-10-04T07:49:00.005Z

One of the various books the girls and their grandmother gave me for my birthday was Dear Friend and Gardener a series of letters between well known gardeners Beth Chatto and Christopher Lloyd. Written over a two year period some 12 plus years ago it's a lovely read and I find myself sitting up until all hours, visions of the varieties and the settings they each describe whizzing through my brain. Odd snippets of everyday life sneak in too, recipes, people met and meals shared along with a very few mentions of current affairs (the death of Princess Diana being a notable inclusion) which help to place it in context and time. I am amazed I had never read this before, it was on my 'list' but not a high priority. With about 60 pages left to go I will miss it when it ends.

My main present was a breadmaker and having now used it twice I am full of plans for future uses. When married in my twenties I used to make all our own bread and did so for about 10 years until newly single again I had no need of so much, nor the time to do it. I've never really taken it up again since mainly because of WH's love of white sliced! With a breadmaker I can indulge myself in a less time consuming way and make the beloved white as well. In fact I tried that first and it came out beautifully, so much so I was reduced to eating the crust myself along with homemade plum jam. This morning I had my first taste of a home-baked seeded loaf which was good but not as dense as I would like. Recently in Denmark I was eating good rye bread with wholegrains and it finally crystallised in my brain that this is the bread I really enjoy, so I can see I will be experimenting more and more until I perfect my own staple bread. Meanwhile, WH is more than happy with a white loaf from a Hovis ready mix.

Staying in

2009-09-26T07:25:00.004Z

This last fortnight has been one long round of hospital appointments, plasters being removed and replaced, physiotherapy and an operation last Tuesday. WH is still in quite a bad way. The break to the wrist was a 'nasty' one and has had to eb wired into place. The foot is now plaster-less but hurts like hell, we're awaiting the 'Ortho Reg' to call with a new game plan. Plaster, CT scan or strapping. The head injury appeared to have subsided but the anaesthetic on Tuesday had some strange effects and even now he is suffering from vertigo or it's close cousin. The bruised cheekbone is still black. We even had the doctor out to the house on Thursday after a particularly spectacular session. I am learning to be nursemaid and normally have endless patience, having been fairly immobile at times in my past, but even I was weary last night and was thinking it would be lovely to have a cup of tea I had not made myself. Cooking which to me is a welcome distraction has gone out of the window as the patient just isn't eating.

Visitors have been fairly few, although the phone almost answers itself now and I don't mean the answerphone either. Sometimes I wish for more knocks on the door as it would no doubt cheer the patient up no end, we are in grave danger of a deep depression setting in.

One constant has been the presence of two grey fluffy nurses who are attentive at most times although they do have a habit of falling asleep on the job. Misty as Night Nurse snuggles in and stays put for 6 hours plus although if WH gets up to change position or for a shuffle about he's a bit reluctant to move at all. Nelson keeps watch from the back of the sofa, his tail curling down over WH's head. Unusually he has been home a lot, the retired major up the road has lost his furry doormat for the season.

As usual these things always come at the wrong time, not that there is a right time for an accident. I have finally sold the other house, after a 3 month spell of being messed about by the potential purchaser we exchange contracts next week and complete the following one. Hope I have not hexed this by finally putting it in print here. It's not a moment too soon. However and there is always an however in my experience, we had left the removal of some pretty hefty tool shelving in the garage until the last. Now of course it has to be removed and in a hurry. WH was due to do this the day after his accident. Today I hope that Brother in Law and his Best Mate will be coming to dismantle it all and to hopefully remove it to our business lock up for use up there. The grill, bacon and fresh bread are waiting, small price to pay if a few butties help get the job done.

As for the rest of my day it will be very quiet, a planned supper with a few friends cancelled in the light of WH still at risk of throwing up any second. Strange way for me to spend a birthday but hey, there's a first time for everything.

Broken and brusied

2009-09-11T08:03:00.003Z

WH fell off the porch roof yesterday. The complaining painter (CP) and I were indoors when we heard a strange thud and a muffled cry. CP rushed outside, he was nearer the door, and immediately shouted for me to call an ambulance. WH was strangely silent and was in a crumpled heap on the floor. An ambulance trip and 4 long hours at the hospital confirmed the damage: a broken wrist, badly bruised face and eye, sprained ankle, torn foot ligaments and concussion. He has cuts and bruises over his whole body. It seems the ladder moved away from the wall as he was climbing off the roof and that he had twisted and hit the front step as he fell, hence the huge black eye. The doctors were bemused by the fact the injuries are diagonal, usually they all one side. The worst problem right now is the head injury, every time he moves he feels dizzy and WH is not one for keeping still. Short of chaining him down I don't know the answer to that one.

Additionally we now have a large plaster and instructions to keep it on for 8 weeks. It's going to be a toughie. I just ordered a new wide screen tv online. I think he's going to need it. As for the building work, we just finished the porch, the rest looks like it's on hold until next year now. Late November will not be the time to start projects outside. The work will have to go on into a third summer.

Excuse me whilst I do some screaming.

Welcome to our world

2009-09-10T04:15:00.003Z

Yesterday our second granddaughter was born. She is as yet nameless, her parents didn't really consider she might be a girl, but she weighed in at almost 8 pounds and is gorgeous. I'm bound to say that as I'm her grandmother but she really is gorgeous, skin like a ripe peach. It was not quite the smooth birth her Mum had hoped for, in then end she born by C-section after days of will she/won't she and a nerve racking time for her Dad, but at 10 days late she is worth the wait. Her big brother is due to meet her today for the first time. I wonder what he will make of her?

WH meanwhile is counting the cost of his 5th Grandchild being born whilst I was already on a shopping expedition, but you know what, he doesn't begrudge a single penny.

Where did 4 weeks go?

2009-08-18T07:22:00.003Z

I don't seem to have stopped recently. Taking a pause for breathe right now I realise I haven't been here for a while and I haven't really done that much else unless you count having to cope with feeling like death warmed up for most of the time. I think we survived the swine flu outbreak round here but we both definitely had 'something'.

We have a new grandchild due any moment and it looks like next week we may be toddler sitting for a few days. Or rather WH will be, owing to his far superior skills in that department.

In other news I think I have sold the other house. Having kicked out the tenants due to them completely ruining all the decorations in just 7 months and the whole place looking permanently like a rubbish tip, I was told that my estate agent had 'lots of people just waiting for a house like that'. Of course he lied and a painful 4 months later I have agreed a sale although the purchaser (of course because it is me they are dealing with) is now acting at a snail's pace and 6 weeks down the line we seem no nearer to exchanging contracts. My solicitors are baffled that things can proceed sooooo slowly but in these days of such financial uncertainty at least it is a sale and this purchaser does on the face of it seem unlikely to chuck at the last minute.

On the building front we now have a porch and shortly I might be able to get the front driveway done and see and end to the red sand and mud which is all pervasive and driving me nuts.

We were due to go to Denmark next week to see Ms A but sadly for all sorts of family reasons we're going to have to give it a miss. My £1 flights will go to waste. Greece in September looks doubtful too although I will move heaven and earth to get some sun before the winter sets in. We also have some properties lined up to view over there, another reason for getting over there if we can.

Anyway it's back to the kitchen for me in a minute as I dish up Mother in Law's dinners for another couple of days. I've been doing a mini meals-on-wheels service now for the best part of 4 months so cooking 2 main meals every other day at 7am no longer seems abnormal. I have 40 odd old fashioned puddings in the freezer too, making them in batches of single portions. Trouble is I want to eat them too and have hard time resisting and I probably need to buy another freezer to keep all this stuff in. Sods law, I gave my old freezer away at the beginning of the year.

'Sod's law' seems to sum up my life just now anyway. I'll let you know when it changes!

Happy Birthday Babies

2009-07-26T10:36:00.009Z

Misty and Nelson are 7 today. I can't believe how old they are and the struggle we had to keep them alive when they were little. 2 of 6 kittens born to a feral cat at the top of our garden, one died within 24 hours and 4 of the rest all had cat flu and other nasties. Three months and £400 later we had managed to keep all 5 alive and were advised by the vet not to rehome these two for a while as they were so sickly. 7 years later they are still here. Jack and Lula are in London and Toby is down the village.

Tonight we celebrate with tins of tuna all round.

Happy Birthday Babies.

A special meal

2009-07-19T19:21:00.005Z

On our last night in Pelion this last time (I know it was over a month ago but hey, I'm busy) we went to a highly recommended little taverna in the square of our nearest 'big' village. We had been told several times that if we wanted brilliant food to go there and our German neighbours appeared to be eating there almost every night.

We had sussed it our earlier in the week and realised it was a former 'greasy spoon' where we had eaten before and had eaten (or rather left) a terrible meal. This time however it had had a clean-up, was newly painted, had a new menu and fancy tables and vases of flowers were set up under soft lighting outside under a plane tree. It seemed to have a new sign too so we reasoned it must have changed hands although the waiter was obviously the same one we had seen before. We decided to give it a go.

When we arrived for our farewell dinner, one other couple were already eating and drinking with gusto. We realised they were a local English builder and his wife whom we had been told about and who ate there very regularly. It all looked very promising. Deciding to forego starters in favour of the delicious local deserts for once, we asked what the specials of the day were expecting to be asked to inspect them in the kitchen. The surly waiter (well you can't have everything) reeled off a list in broken English. So no kitchen inspection tonight then. I asked him to repeat it in Greek. WH then decided on grilled lamb cutlets with lemon potatoes and vegetables. I plumped for the fish soup Kakavia which is more like a stew and which I had been dying to try. The thought of fragrant mixed fish in a broth of garlic, tomatoes, herbs and onions with a few potatoes and other veggies was very tempting in the still 30 degree heat. As usual the bread came first with our cutlery and I resisted the temptation to eat it immediately and kept it to go with my soup.

WH's cutlets arrived and the warnning bells began to ring. The portion was generous, perhaps 5 or 6 slim lamb chops were heaped up over a pile of roast potatoes. The problem was that the meat was absolutely black, the edges turning to cinder, 'overcooked' didn't even begin to describe it. That sight had just begun to sink in when the fish soup was announced.

I looked down to the bowl placed in front of me and immediately had to look away. An absolutely horrendous sight met my eyes. A whole dogfish head was looking up at me, mouth agape and teeth bared menacingly, eyes protruding. It was swimming in a lake of what looked like oily water. A lone boiled potato joined the fish head along with a couple of branches of the local wild greens. WH looked hesitant then asked if I was OK. "Yes " I said stoically dipping my spoon into the tepid liquid, "It must be a different sort of soup, maybe lemony judging by the colour".

It was not to be lemon either. I tasted it and Oh My God what a taste, dish water topped with rapidly congealing fish oil. There was no taste of anything at all other than rancid, fishy water. No seasoning, no herbs and no savoury garlic or onion. Zilch. WH said later he thought I was about to throw up over the table. How I managed not to I'll never know. I must be stronger than I give myself credit for.

Somehow I ate the potato and some of the fish which was on the bone behind the head. The liquid stayed in the bowl. WH ate his veg and left most of the charcoal pile of meat. The waiter came and took our plates away and asked what we would like next.

"The bill," said WH rather forcefully. We paid up and scarpered quickly; into a bar around the corner for some strong drink to take away the taste. An hour later I still had the taste of fish oil and really I was quite hungry having eaten very little in the heat during the day so I bought a very sickly pre-packed cake from the supermarket, stupidly I didn't think whilst the bakery was still open, and ate the lot. At least the sugar hit took away the taste for a while. Then I went back on the Metaxa.

Next morning I could still taste fish and later it started to repeat on me. Ugh. Later still that day I began to suffer from an upset stomach which carried on for a couple more days after that. Even dinner the next evening in Thessaloniki's hottest shopping mall's Delicertessen,which was a feast for the eyes and all the other senses too, failed to get rid of that fishy feeling.

We've made one decision already about our next visit to the area, probably in September, we will not be dining there again whatever anyone tells us.

Only 8 sleeps

2009-07-12T17:34:00.002Z

until we see those crazy Hayseed Dixie boys for the first and probably only time this year. They're mostly resting and doing festivals this year but we're able to see them during their short tour of southern England.

Can't wait. Must find some energy from somewhere to have a good bop on the front row, who cares if I'm bedridden the rest of the week.

Rock it to us Deacon Dale!

Hungry cat

2009-07-06T07:31:00.004Z

Nelson

Why is it that when I feed Misty in the morning he is always hungry again 10 minutes later when Nelson arrives for his food? I fed Nelson in a different room this morning and gave Misty his second meal of the day at the same time. A few minutes later Misty's dish is empty and he is now polishing off Nelson's as well, Nelson having retreated under the table and looking longingly at his rapidly disappearing breakfast.

Seeing as this happens almost every day and at both meal times can anyone tell me why Misty is half Nelson's size?

Back on the meths - Do it yourself style

2009-06-29T05:42:00.004Z

I saw a locum consultant last week, my brilliant Arthritis one having returned to the country of his birth and a research post. Damn, I knew he was good. Seven months after my last appointment I had my 'early' review, with a stand in doctor at a different hospital 40 miles from home. Such a nice man I had been told, a real gentleman. Well he did stand up when I entered the room and he shook my hand but.... what a load of old cobblers.

He announced he was a retired consultant from Scotland, helping out, before asking me why I was there. I haven't had time to read your notes much. He certainly hadn't read the 5 page later the last chap wrote and had copied to me with his 'plan of action' regarding tests and treatment.

It's not worth the bother of relating much about this poor consultation for consultation read diatribe for the doctor about why I should weight. He gave me a cursory examination, apparently could find no evidence of psoriasis or indeed anything much and suggested he do a raft of the same tests the previous chap had ordered in December, just to check. Carry on taking the tablets. I asked about my skin problems, "I can't see any," he said from 6 feet away, "we'd have to refer you to a skin person,"

"For Psoriasis? That's why I am here, "

"Well I don't do skin."

I glumly asked him how long before I could get any treatment, "Well we could put you on a trial but I don't think it's worth it."

Not worth it when I have been like this for 9 months and am getting worse by the week. I burst into tears and sat back. Something about his God like manner and the demeaning way in which he spoke to me made me give up in an instant. I just wanted to be out of that room and I was angry that after being told last year and even having had it confirmed in writing that in the opinion of the last consultant no-one was looking at the whole picture and from the evidence he had found in my notes I had had psoriasis ignored since 1966 no less, yet again I was going away demoralised and with no hope of relief.

Thankfully I had taken WH with me. Usually I go to ALL his appointments, he rarely attends mine. WH began to get annoyed and questioned why I needed to go through the whole lot again after the last round when a treatment had been proposed but no one had wanted to prescribe it after the previous bloke left. "I am not he, was the reply I need to do these things for myself." WH asked him if he would be here in a month's time to review the results then. Er..... NO. He was only a stand in. WH told him the effect of the PA on me (and him) said I could lose weight if I could actually move a bit after all I had lost 40 pounds on my Lyme treatment. The eyebrows raised and he visibly shifted in his seat. I know that disbelieving look. WH told him every time I did lose weight I was put back on medication whose chief side effect is weight gain. I was fighting a losing battle. Why could I not start the original proposed treatment for a trial period and see if it helped. Eventually the chap agreed, I think mainly to get rid of an increasingly irate WH and a tearful me. Then he couldn't get us out of the room fast enough albeit clutching a note to the GP to prescribe and a note for a blood test.

I duly started methotrexate again on Saturday. I was not given the treatment card I had to carry last time and there was no mention of the weekly or fortnightly blood test I was supposed to be getting to monitor my liver. I made an appointment for myself and another to see my GP, the earliest of which was 20th July. Today I realise that the instructions on the bottle of pills are different from what he had written on the GP note and had told me verbally. I will have to check with the pharmacy (whilst I also check the dose of WH's meds which he suddenly discovered is double the usual strength, but that's a whole other story.)

I had a follow up appointment in the post on Saturday; this time another new doctor but at the same distant hospital in 3 months time. That looks like a good start anyway. Yesterday I felt a burning sensation on my scalp which was driving me nuts. I asked WH to investigate, after all you can't see the top of your own head. 2 seconds later he announced massive psoriasis spots all over. Funny that, 3 days before there was no sign whatsoever when the locum looked. He did shake my hand again when I left, what a gentleman.

Life is just a bowl of cherries

2009-06-27T06:11:00.004Z

Outside my window is a large bird-cherry tree. It's actually in my neighbour's garden but right now it's full of ripening cherries and a family of four baby blackbirds with their long suffering parents. The babies fledged last week after two days of the parent birds feeding them with cat food which I had put out in a bowl on the patio. Each time the dish emptied (helped along by our own grey twins) Father bird tapped the bowl so we would go out and refill it.

The current antics start about 6am just as the day is starting to warm up and few shafts of sunlight bathe the branches. The fluffy babies fly in awkwardly crash landing on the bendy branches knocking cherries to the floor, or more correctly onto my front driveway. Then the squawking starts. The babies peck anything, branch, leaves, twigs and the occasional cherry. They haven't quite yet got the hang of retrieving a whole fruit and time and time again their intended breakfast slips to the ground. The more they lose, the more they squawk until finally an anguished parent hops in and deftly pokes a whole cherry into the gaping beak. Sometimes baby doesn't know what to do with this, should he swallow it or not? Eyes bulging they finally gulp the cherry down. Then a sibling starts up, he wants one as well and the poor parents hop from branch to branch, clucking and whistling at their offspring and stuffing them full of the ripe fruit.

These babies are almost twice the size of the parents and sit uneasily on the branches and gingerly move along the stems in search of the fruit. They lose their balance and sometimes their grip, at times sliding down until a flapping, flurry of wings renders them airborne and they find another branch to start the whole thing again.

Later, tired and full of fruit the babies doze amongst the branches and drunk looking heads with rolling eyes peep out from between the leaves. The parent birds use this time to feed themselves and leave the tree for an unhindered trip round the district or for a bit of worm digging on the lawn. Finally they've had enough too and a loudly clucking parent chivvies up the fat little babies and they are shepherded back to their nest in the eucalyptus tree opposite for a long rest until they get hungry again.

Back to reality

2009-06-24T06:09:00.004Z

Our holiday seems a lifetime away, almost 3 weeks since we returned now. This last weekend we were away in Southampton and visited the Hillier Gardens at Romsey. So many trees and so little energy to walk round them all. I did get a few photos of some of the stranger ones though.

Tomorrow I see my new (yet again) consultant. The lovely chap I saw in December has apparently left and I'm seeing a locum once again. I just hope he decides to go with the other chaps plan of action or else I'll be having another boat load of tests again. I just want to start some proper treatment, after all I've been waiting 7 months over which time I have put on weight after the steroid trial, have begun to seize up and and now can't walk very well. Additionally the excruciating skin itch is back with a vengeance. What started as a minor irritation when I was bitten on holiday has developed into a large red, raised patch on my arm which itches intensely. It wakes me up it's so bad. Surely a sign of galloping psoriasis if ever I saw one. Fingers crossed that matey tomorrow agrees and finally does something about it. Nothing I have tried works at all. I can't believe that last year I was so well (and so thin - for me anyway) and now I am almost back to square one, just the Lyme symptoms are still thankfully absent.

The last few weeks I have done what I can to help with Mother in Law, saw the death of a very old friend whom I shall miss intensely and provided bacon sandwiches and tea on tap to the other friend who is helping WH to build our porch. At least at home normality rules, it still looks like a building site!

What a welcome

2009-06-04T09:32:00.004Z

We're back, we're brown and quite chilled out, already missing long lazy days by the sea, frappe in hand.

I see the political climate hasn't improved during our holiday, in fact it seems to be worse, TV news seems sadly all too similar to what it was almost 4 weeks ago.

This however sums it up for me:

You never had it so good, Invictor

Aging rockers they may be and the lip sync is crap but the words are brilliant. Watch it and weep.

Interlude

2009-05-11T17:24:00.003Z

It has been a frantic week mostly spent dealing with an elderly woman who is determined to starve herself to death. She neither wants to eat nor drink nor let anyone help her. It is sad. After discharge from hospital last week things got worse. Today it all came to a head and finally a patient, kind district nurse with the temperament and voice of a sergeant major finally got our lady moving again and mobilised the troops so from tomorrow the long suffering family will not have to cope alone. My sister in law is beyond words, barely able to speak after daily, in fact hourly battles of wills, unable to fathom how someone could let themself go in this manner. Serious illness has been ruled out. A perverse desire to be supremely awkward is the consistent diagnosis.

Meanwhile I have taken refuge in my genealogy, odd moments at the ends of the days where I can think about something else. I was researching some Romany family. Well what a surprise that turned out to be and no picnic either. It seems amid the depths of the message boards and history web sites, dark forces are lurking and nasty comments and messages lead to massive fallings-out, board wars and worse. Some sites have all but closed. People I thought were friendly are revealed in their full-blown nastiness. I can't believe the things that were said about squabbles several years old and obviously involving people who know each other away from the internet. I am sad, disillusioned and disheartened and began to wonder if it was all worth it. I had some of my work plagiarised in the past, in one instance several years ago a whole family tree I passed to someone for their perusal suddenly turned up all over the net. A couple of more recent things have turned up too but nothing on such a scale as then. Discussing this recently in general on a website I was astounded to be almost hounded to say who had done it. It seemed my interrogator had a guilty conscience but I desisted from getting involved. This then followed me to another website where I had seen none of the embattled for days and was gaily chatting about something completely different. Those who did get involved were followed all over the net by individuals who feel that they have an axe to grind and a point to make but their logic and grammar is so hard to follow, no-one can really tell what it's all about. I don't care, it was the principal that was at stake and in future I won't be sharing anything.

So genealogy hasn't given me any respite at all. One thing that will however begins tomorrow, we finally return to Greece and our lovely Kalamos. The weather there is 30 degrees and sun is forecast for weeks. I'll think of you on the beach on Wednesday. See you in June.

What I saw in hospital

2009-05-04T09:24:00.005Z

Mother in law is in hospital, admitted over a week ago for a blood pressure reading so much off the scale that the first doctor thought his machine had broken, we had really taken her in to have a suspcted fracture investigated. 4 days later a fracture in a bone in the wrist was reported along with the statement that they 'wouldn't be doing anything with it as it appears not to hurt her'. Meanwhile we waited 6 days for a 24hr heart monitor which we were told on admission would be required. On Saturday came the news that the heart test was fine but they couldn't do any other tests now because of the Bank Holiday, the doctor would probably order some more on his return on Tuesday. If pat experience tels us anything then it will be Friday before these tests are carried out. By then MIL will have been 'in' 2 whole weeks. No wonder they are short of beds. The whole NHS process grinds slowly on with no sense of urgency or even regard for the patient's well being. We have ben concerned about her lack of eating and drinking. No-one encourages her to do either outside of the family who have devised a rota to ensure there is someone present at the evening meal time. the main meal of that day is at lunchtime and visiting is not allowed. Daily she reports she 'ate nothing/ didn't like it/couldn't be bothered' or even on a couple of occassions 'didn't get any pudding/they forgot me/I didn't have a fork'. Add this catalogue to the day I discovered a jug of water out of arm's reach and no glass no wonder this lady is losing weight and de-hydrated.

A request to the ward sister to monitor her eating and drinking as we felt this to be a problem resulted in a lovely record sheet being pinned to the bottom of the bed first thing in the morning. There were columns for description of food/drink, amount given, amount eaten and overall comments. Trouble is at 5pm the whole sheet was blank, no one had bothered to use it.

If the NHS were school project the marks would be as follows:

Knowledge: 5/10

Interest in subject: 1/10

Effort: 0/10

Some interesting ideas were put forward at the outset but the project failed to follow through and almost no written work was submitted for evaluation. Must try much harder.

OK, I joke but this is an elderly lady's life at stake here and from where I sit no one is very interested at all.

Summer is on it's way

2009-04-27T08:57:00.003Z

The last couple of weeks we could almost be excused for thinking it was summer already. Long days of sunshine and the clearest of blue skies have sent the temperature here on the patio cum building site soaring. It's been too lovely to resist doing a bit of plant pottering, re-arranging my many tubs and pots and potting up a few summer bulbs. All this despite the fact I still have no actual garden to plant anything into.

The icing on the cake has been the arrival of the swallows and martins which wheel over the village all day and long into the evening. The resident blackbirds have been busy to making a nest just over the fence in a shrub in our neighbours garden. the male singing in the eucalyptus tree morning and night, a lovely sound I never had in the previous garden. How nice to have 'our own' blackbird. The goldfinches too have finally found the niger feeders and look like miniature parrots as they swing round 4 to a feeder busily pecking away.

Today though it's raining heavily, much needed water for the gardens. I wish there was more in mine than weeds to reap the benefits but without some decent topsoil I just have to wait.

Waking up

2009-04-18T08:31:00.005Z

A whole two weeks since I wrote anything here and most of that time I have been asleep. I am really not doing so well on the osteoporosis meds and actually stopped taking them 3 days ago. The brain fog is lifting, the sleepiness is going and I feel like a different person. No doubt my GP will have something to say but I really can't go on like that. It's almost summer and I have too much to do. I am STILL waiting another consult with the Rheumatology guy and am not taking anything at all for the arthritis which is having it's own problems like 24 hour pain. Until that is sorted the garden will have to wait.

WH has just left for the cupboard supplier and will be fitting out the utility room this afternoon. Another box we can tick. Yesterday a knock at the door revealed an EHO from the council investigating a blocked drain further down the road. I checked his credentials (yes really !) and let him in to dye test our drains. Walking into the kitchen he stopped dead. "Wow, it's a bit different from next door" and he went on to ask me about the flooring which he wanted for his own kitchen. As he left he said "You've got a great room there, I love the light". Coming soon after an estate agent (for the other house) had said it was like walking into another country it was so bright and sunny, that pleased me no end. So far only WH's sister has made a bad comment along the lines of how small the kitchen was, at 5m square just who is she kidding, it's 3 times the size of hers (meow, meow). So maybe the wait has been worth it and WH has really created his wow effect which was what he was aiming at all along.

I promise I really will post pictures soon.

And now there's so much

2009-04-02T06:54:00.005Z

OK, I've now got so much to say I'll have to list it:

1. My tenants were a pain, they have caused all sorts of problems in the house and it needs a total redecoration. It was decorated throughout last August. The tenants will shortly be histiry for afresaid reasons. The house is now For Sale.

2. This hosue is a hive activity, as I write the utility is being plastered, we have a new cloakroom, the porch is being built and the last 3 'extra' kitchen cupboards are in place.

3. Because of note 2 I am daily running out of milk, sugar and tea.

4. Also because of note 2 I have retreated to various county records offices and to meeting with geanealogy friends in coffee shops in order to avoid the noise and dust.

5. I now provide a daily meals on wheels service for Mother in Law. I am rapidly running out of ideas for old fashioned home cooked stodge. Already WH is craving curries and stir fries, if I give in then I have to cook 2 separate meals a day.

6. Our grandkids suddenly want to sleep over, come for meals and spend even more time here. It's no big deal but it requires even more cooking, supervising school projects and keeping tabs on the numerous friends who come to call.

7. I can hardly believe I am writing this but the weather has been gorgeous. Sitting out on the south facing patio has become a must. It's sheltered, sunny and you could almost believe you were by the Med if you didn't have to open your eyes and survey the building site which STILL occupies the back garden. The fig tree is growing leaves though.

8. The majority of my plants are still in pots and tubs so daily watering is imperative in the month long dry spell we ahve had. I have to fight the builders for use of the hosepipe though and I don't always win.

9. An elderly friend is in hospital in the midlands. We have been visiting and it looks like he is in for the long haul. The car is getting used to the weekly treck up the M5 once again.

10. It's only 5 weeks until we go back to Kalamos. The work here should be finished then, just the garden left for our return. It will be wonderful, almost 3 weeks of utter peace. Can't wait.

Nothing to say

2009-03-10T11:22:00.004Z

Sorry I've not been around but I really have not much to say. I've had a hellish few weeks with some new meds and I've been asleep for great parts of them.

I've also been stuck into the family tree seeing as I couldn't do much else and by the time you've ploughed through 50 plus census sheets and re-examined them with the magnifying glass, the last thing you want to do is peer at at a pc screen.

Mother-in-law is not too well now, she's very frail so I'm doing meals-on-wheels for her on a daily basis. 7 days a week. She has 3 daughters but funnily enough they're not very forthcoming with extra help. Thank goodness for No 1 daughter who picks up the dinner on a school day and delivers it to the recipient in the next village on her way past.

And I lost my cleaner, the wonderful Ms T, she had so much on her plate she's had to give up work. I'm going to miss her dreadfully especially at the moment when I'm doing my own cleaning (and ironing which is the real killer).

So just a few snippetts of random information but nothing very exciting, I have only been out twice in 3 weeks after all.

Roots, Chat and Romanies

2009-02-24T08:32:00.008Z

Courtesy of Helen Musselwhite

I've been taking the time to investigate some of WH's ancestors whilst the weather has been cold and I'm not up to doing much for other reasons. At the end of last year my pc crashed rather spectacularly and all my family tree files were lost, the majority of them hadn't been backed up elsewhere, unlike all the stuff littering my desk top. I've now bought a brilliant external hard drive which saves everything automatically so I never have to worry about missing files.

But back to the family Tree, I did still have a paper record of it all amongst a foot high pile of paper which had been languishing behind the desk since the move here last July. So January's project anyway was to sift through it all and sort it out. It's really been quite useful having to input all the data into my Family Tree programme for a second time as I can weed out the rubbish and get a refresher course on some of the stuff I had forgotten.

WH's family or that section of it are descended from Romanies and searching back through the old censuses has been almost impossible in some cases. Because they travelled around and did not have permanent homes, they often escaped the enumerator's pen and where they are recorded they are usually at the end of a particular section (the enumerators were instructed to record them there) and in a lot of cases their names and such like were ignored. Quite often I come across a record like '7 travelling gypsies living in tents', names, places of birth, age etc etc all recorded NK, or not known. Where they were recorded there are errors, names and places are spelled incorrectly, ages are wrong; after all most of these people were illiterate (as were many others in regular houses) and enumerators wrote only what they heard, often phonetically. Couple that with people with strange accents and even stranger names and a very odd mix appears on the sheets and that's when you can read the writing. Names like Tryphena, Hezekiah, Power, Vashti and Defiance were commonplace amongst those communities. One girl I came across was labelled Finance!

I like a challenge however, and over the last 7 years I've amassed a wealth of information about gypsy families travelling around the South West and even further afield. If I couldn't find 'my' lot then I followed some of the other families and eventually like the proverbial bad penny one of 'mine' would pop up, living with cousins or some such and tagged on the end of family record, misspelled and wrong aged but enough of a link to know who they really were.

Only recently has it all begun to come together however. I chanced on a website where researchers help each other out and chew over such thorny problems as some of mine. Roots Chat is amazing and people are only too willing to help, regularly doing 'look-ups' for strangers and even in one case I read using their own 'paid for' credits on other websites to search for information. I also found some Romany Genealogy sites, these have been a mine of information and it's been fascinating reading about the lives of the travellers about which I had hitherto known very little.

Yesterday I was contacted by a Romany lady who lives quite near here and who is descended from the same families. We have lots of the same information and it will be fun comparing notes. She also suggested we could meet up in person and invited us to her Romany home which was very kind of her and totally unexpected. I'm not sure we can meet up at the moment, I'm really not well enough to go off meeting strangers and there is so much to do here, WH won't thank me for dragging him away for a day on a Family Tree jaunt. But one day we will meet I'm sure and learn more about the past and the families who have passed on their legacy of the travel bug to WH and several more in his family. Now I'm even beginning to better understand this complex being I live with.

And yet another one

2009-02-18T20:30:00.006Z

I've been awol a week with weirdy viral-y symptoms which sort of went enough for me to have a couple of wonderful meals out with friends at the weekend (apropos of nothing special, just good times) then returned on Monday to strike with a vengeance.

It's not my year so far is it?? I've got Viral Labyrinthitis now, big name for what is really vertigo with a viral cause. At least it's not a reaction to the new osteoporosis drugs I'm on which is what I thought, corresponding as it did with the end of the first week of those and the first dose of the stuff that stops the calcium from leaching out of my bones.

Driving to my spinal X-ray appointment on Monday afternoon at least I had the presence of mind to call up WH and get him to rescue me as I was falling asleep at the wheel. X-rays over, he took me home and I slept for 17 hours. I can barely remember the X-rays themselves other than the lovely trainee Russian radiographer who apologised for having to do 7 plates. 7 ??? When?? I remembered a couple maybe. I slept most of yesterday too and then awoke this morning relatively chipper until I tried to move. A swift consult at the 'acute' GP clinic this morning (at least the Noctor referred me to a proper doctor) found the cause of the problem and thankfully it wasn't the drugs at all. Now I just have to wait for the bugs to bugger off.

The most annoying thing is that it feels like I have the Hang-over from Hell but I didn't drink a thing. Honest!

Yet another diagnosis

2009-02-10T09:19:00.007Z

I thought being diagnosed with Psoriatic arthritis in December and being told I'd had it since at least 1993, if not before, was bad enough. Yesterday I get a call from my GP who tells me all the scans etc I had over New Year have shown I have Osteoporosis in my spine - severe. In the interest of public decency I can't really put here what I said to her in reply.

So now I am left thinking why on earth did they not find this before. It's not as if I haven't been to the doctors recently; I have averaged 2 visits a week to my local surgery for one thing or another over the last 4 years. A lot of those things are bone/back/foot/ hand related. They have found out that I have 'multiple fractures of both feet on different occasions'. So is this why my feet hurt then. I did tell them often enough. It's not this recent GP, I haven't really said much to her about it, rather the previous couple, they ignored it so much I just gave up. Thought it was old age creeping on.

Now I'm down for more tests, xrays of my spine, bloods etc etc ad nauseum. I decided that I've got to get fit and I really need to do some load bearing exercise to strengthen my bones. Quite how I can, when at the moment every bone in my body is screaming in agony, my back won't seem to hold me upright a lot of the time, never mind the pain in my feet which has been steadily gaining in strength since Christmas I'm not really sure at this juncture.

I've also discovered that I am now 6 times more likely to break bones from minor injuries, this is obviously why I keep breaking ribs, (Neelu your words were prophetic) so I have to be a bit circumspect in what I do. No more offering to help with moving bricks and stuff with WH, I'm so clumsy I usually end up doing some damage anyway. I have a gung-ho approach to things like that anyway, if I can physically manage something at the time I'll do it, never mind the usual payback after the event. It helps me feel normal i.e. not sick - don't you know.

Yesterday I started the chewable calcium tablets 'especially suitable for the elderly' and have yet to take the once weekly thing where I need to keep upright for 2 hours afterwards and during which time I can't eat anything or take any other meds. OK, I know thousands if not millions of other people do all this and have the same diagnosis but surely not at my age, not really, honestly. Of all the crap health-wise I have had to put up with over the years, this seems to have affected me the most mentally. Trying to be rational I tell myself that it's not life threatening, millions are worse off than me and facing life limiting illness and far worse handicaps every day. I accept all that really I do. I just have one overwhelming feeling that I have never, ever had before. Suddenly, I feel old.

Snowed in.

2009-02-07T17:50:00.004Z

One of the roads out of the village

Yup, that's us. 12 inches of snow over one night has cut off our village.

No post for 3 days, no newspapers and no bread in the village shop. What we do have is a wonderful, almost carnival, atmosphere as everyone abandons their normal existence for a few days and goes walking, sledging and even skiing. The streets are busy with folk out doing stuff. WE had a pub lunch yesterday and then spent the afternoon with friends. On the walk back lots of people said Hi as we all slipped and slithered in the freezing snow.

The Alps in England: look at all the skiers out on the slopes!

The waiting game

2009-02-01T08:30:00.006Z

It's been a hectic week one way and another. WH arrived back from his annual skiing trip along wth the obligatory machine full of laundry; my cleaner, the lovely Ms T had a bad back so I had to clean my own house; we had youngest grandson (19 months) to stay for a night and a day and then had to take him back home over 80 miles away and what with blood tests, hospital appointments and all the usual business-y stuff I'm quite whacked out. WH has been working some odd hours too, meaning he doesn't eat his dinner until after 9pm so I'm still waiting to clear up and wash dishes at 10, my pet hate.

This week though it should be a little calmer. A slack week business wise gives WH the opportunity, finally, to tile the kitchen. With a short visit from the depressed painter looming, to do some touching up, I can almost see the end of the kitchen in sight. The one thing which conspires to thwart all this is the non arrival, STILL, of the sideboard which I ordered at the end of November. Actually it did arrive, despite all the suppliers promises (lies?) on New Year's Eve (should have been before 15th December) but when we opened the packages, the top was badly damaged as were 2 of the drawers. Hasty photo and email exchanging confirmed that it was a manufacturing fault and that we would be supplied with replacements within 5 working days. They didn't arrive. I took this up with Trading Standards or as they are now known Consumer Direct and it should all have been sorted by last Friday. It hasn't. So now I'm still walking round 3 large boxes, we can't finish the last unpacking and sorting out in the kitchen and the whole thing is now, not to put too fine a point on it, getting on my flipping nerves.

This whole experience of internet purchasing for the kitchen has actually soured my view of the process. An order for cooker hoods and stuff was cancelled because the firm failed to deliver in the set time and then could not even tell me when the goods were likely to arrive. Eventually I got a refund by resorting to my Credit Card company. The supplier had now gone bust so I'm glad I dealt with that straight away or I would now be seriously out of pocket and still awaiting the refund. The sideboard cost more, a lot more, and because I technically have all parts claiming a refund is not so easy. The firm used Paypal and they don't want to know, neither does the credit card company because a third party (Paypal) was involved. In future I will confine my internet purchasing to household names, little unknown firms will be a no no. They truly don't deliver.

So for now I wait and wait. I've turned my attentions to the old bathroom. It doesn't look like WH will be re-fitting that in the near future so the painter will be painting it as it is, the blind will be going up instead of my dreadful temporary curtains and a shiny new mirrored cupboard is waiting in the wings to go on the wall. Meanwhile WH will be finally fitting out the downstairs cloakroom and the utility room, all I need for that is a couple of cupboards, everything else is in the garage, just like me, waiting.

Loved up and muddy.

2009-01-23T08:41:00.006Z

At 3am this morning I was reflecting on why the wind-down routine I normally go through every night in order to ensure a few hours decent sleep didn't seem to be working. I think maybe being the sole target of a wet, muddy cat probably had something to do with it. I'd been out last night visiting a relative, WH being currently on his annual skiing trip so I have time to do these things. When I got back around 10.20 it was hammering down in no small way. The grey babies of course were bored stiff and hungry. We're currently undergoing a period when they don't like any cat food at all, not even the regular tried and tested varieties which they will normally scoff without too much bother. Nelson in particular is unusually picky even for him and until and unless the cat food people develop new flavours such as 'Robin' or 'Greenfinch' I have been feeding half rations only so that they are more inclined to eat anything. Having fed them, they turned their noses up at the food and cleared off outside for a run round as the rain had stopped a little and the wind got up. Wind is always an enticing prospect, leaves to chase, the feel of the breeze in the fur and the prospect of other local cats being outside to terrorise too. They might even find some food if they looked hard enough.

Misty returned later to take root on my bed next to my left shoulder. I was reading at the time and finally starting to get drowsy enough to attempt some sleep. Right now I am mid-course a high dose of steroids as a 'test' to see what effect they have on the Psoriatic Arthritis. So far so good, loads of symptoms are going but with the usual unnerving side effects that I always get of sleeping very little, being extremely hot and being permanently hungry. I took off my glasses and shut the book when it hit me, a wet paw at 30 miles an hour across my cheek. Not a savage dig, his claws were sheathed, but like a lightening sort little tap, delicate but with the added frisson of being wet and muddy. It was like a slap on the cheek with a tiny, wet football.
I looked down and he was in full drool, 'I love you Mummy' eyes and making barely audible little mewling sounds to reinforce the message. Misty was in full-on, loved up mode. Unfortunately I knew what was to follow. I stroked his head and turned away to put the book down, the tapping started again. I then stroked him several times more but was telling him I HAD to go to sleep now, it was late enough but of course he wasn't interested. All he wanted was for me to play with him and he started biting the duvet then hoping I would tickle him through it and we could have a real old scrap. He loves all this, the rougher the better but not at 3am. No way. he started jumping over me from side to side and grabbing my hands.
I tried little strokes to calm him down and he got worse. I ignored him and the tapping started up again. Finally he tried his last beguiling move. He walked up along my body and came to sit under my chin on my left hand side. He used to do this as a sick kitten, 6 years ago. He fitted the space then, now he's far too big and ends up slumped across my face rendering me almost unable to breathe. He manoeuvred his head right under my chin and rubbed against my neck, over and over again. He was in 7th heaven and then started to chew his feet, his favourite thing in the whole world. You can always tell when Misty is contented, he rolls on his side, usually up against a person and chews his feet, spreading the toes wide so he can nibble the long, velvety fur between his pads.

I gave up at this point and resumed the book. Half an hour later there was a loud bang outside as something blew down the road in the wind. Curiosity finally got the better of him and he dashed off to go outside through the cat flap and investigate. By that time I was wet, had muddy streaks painted down my face necessitating another wash, and I then put a towel on the bed in case Misty returned and by this time was wide, flipping, awake. I finally drifted off about 4 I think though it could (she says charitably) have been a little earlier.

At 6am the man in the house opposite mine was loading his car with god knows what but it was loud, and shouting to wife at the same time and so I woke with a start. I must have had all of 2 hours sleep. I was then extremely hot and hearing me turn in bed, Nelson appeared. There was noise outside, I was moving, albeit only slightly, so it MUST be breakfast time. He started crying as only Nelson knows how. I got up in despair.

Now I'm exhausted, my eyes want to shut and go to sleep but the oil delivery is on it's way, I have to go shopping and I have several phone calls to make. The greys naturally are fast asleep on their own beds in the kitchen in the sun. I'm going to get a big piece of fish from the supermarket and cook it about 9pm tonight to feed them at 10. Hopefully with a massive meal of their second favourite food inside them they might sleep a few hours downstairs before they start the night shift again.

And please don't anyone tell me to shut the downstairs door so they can't get upstairs and into the bedroom. Last time I did that I couldn't sleep for the noise of 2 cats head butting a door for 2 hours in tandem and when I got up to open it having given in, I found they had wrecked the carpet behind it too.

A chink of light

2009-01-19T10:48:00.006Z

Two years ago this week my Mother died, the end of 15 hard years of worry and aggravation when I knew that she would rather have had my sister as her main carer than have to make do with me, whom she always regarded as second best. As sister lives on another continent it wasn't to be. After the death came the relief and the calm of a certain knowledge that I was no longer on permanent call-out, albeit 140 miles away, and the luxury of being able to spend whole weeks at home without having to check my messages every 20 minutes and worrying that if I went out anywhere I would have to leave again in a hurry.

The effects, over the final seven to eight years of having to drive to her home in the middle of the night at short notice, go rushing up on a Monday morning because she needed a loaf of bread and she refused to ask anyone else, living in a 'guest room' for 4 weeks whilst hospital visiting a patient who complained the whole time and having almost daily phone calls from carers who were denied entrance, carers who had been shouted at, carers who had been accused of stealing and a doctor who thought I was a waste of space (after all I was ill with Lyme Disease too) can scarcely be over estimated. They took a toll on me that I had hardly noticed until the weight lifted. I took time to recover. I also spent the best part of the following 12 months sorting out her affairs, will, probate etc as I was the only person able to do it. I remember attending a probate interview at court being hardly able to walk. My step-daughter had dropped me off outside as there was no public parking but I then had to wait for her return outside the opposite side of the road in freezing temperatures, barely able to stand. Daughter was stuck in the midday traffic and the whole interview had taken less than 10 minutes and not the 30 I had envisioned.

I didn't expect much relief that first twelve months but I did get a little more than I bargained for. We decided to buy this house and that decision more than anything else has coloured the last twelve months along with WH being diagnosed with depression, the awful result of his appearance as a prosecution witness at a murder trail, a particularly nasty and vindictive customer and his general sadness at the effects of aging.

Today the house project is on its way to being finished. We had planned to have it finished 9 months ago but the downturn in the building trade coupled with the fact that every single outside contractor we have employed has let us down at some stage or other, lead us to decide that outside 'paying' work would come first, WH being in the enviable position, even now, of having so much work offered to him that he can pick and choose at whim. He may as well earn whilst there is still work there to earn from. Other local tradesmen without exception are not so lucky.

This weekend I unpacked the last of the 60-odd boxes which had been stored for up to 2 years in the garage at the other house, a truly momentous occasion. Now all we have remaining in there is stuff that should be in a garage and which can be brought here when this one reverts to it's proper use and stops being the builder's workshop and tool store. We now have just the two bathrooms, a cloakroom and the gardens still to do. The gardens are my job anyway and will occupy me over the summer whilst we are still here.

If we had been able to take our original course (which was get the keys in April 07, build in May to Oct 07 and move-in in Nov 07) we would have had tenants in by now. Instead we didn't get the keys until July 07, started building in November 07, due to planning delays, then lost most of the winter to rain and floods and a bricklayer who only worked 2 days a week at most so we didn't move in until July 08, the time we had planned to be moving out to somewhere warmer than here. Which brings me neatly round to my little chink of light at the end of the tunnel. Greek light, that is.

Last week I booked to go to our beloved Kalamos for the fourth time, this time for almost 3 weeks in May. It will give us a chance to look around again and make some decisions regarding our eventual move. By then the garden here should be well under way and the majority of the inside work completed. WH is seeing a new consultant soon so his depression should be getting some proper treatment too. My project managing duties are now almost over and I have time to spend on other pursuits; at present I am literally getting my office in order, unpacking and sorting the mountain of paperwork brought in haste from the old house. I now have time to read for pleasure again, I had almost stopped for those 2 years as I concentrated on planning applications, orders, insurances and probate. I get time to go off with friends window shopping, garden visiting or even better plant buying. Recently I've been trawing the web for apartments to rent and places to go and visit.

I can finally see that little chink of light and it's getting brighter by the second.

Fuzzy-headed with boots on.

2009-01-15T16:47:00.005Z

Well this week so far I've been scanned twice, had some blood taken, seen the bones in my hands on-screen looking like join the dots and been radio active. Yes, it's all happening here folks.

Dr Thorough ordered all this lot and the scans originally were a day apart but with some help from the receptionist at our Medical Imaging Dept I managed to get the second one done whilst I was waiting for the isotopes to start working for the first one.

Interesting experience being rendered radio active. One of the many warnings were to ensure no-one else came into contact with my urine for 24 hours. I was amazed they thought they needed to tell people that. Maybe they thought I was some sort of fetishist but well really, how odd, seeing as I am fully capable in that department. I was also to avoid kissing babies, so wouldn't do for politicians then. I had no warnings, however, about the weird, fuzzy head which seemed to come on almost immediately the liquid went in my arm. To kill time whilst it activated, a period of 3 hours, I went to Tescos and did the weekly shop, I forgot half and had to go back last night. Not cheap though, I managed to spend £95 the first time and the stuff I forgot was £32. Frightening for 2 people and 2 cats for one week. But I digress, I was walking round Tescos as though in a trance (hence the purchase of a set of baking tins and some roasting tins too) and I was trying so hard to concentrate that even the till woman seemed to think that I was a druggie or something. Didn't go well either when I chucked a pot of nacho dip straight over the conveyor and onto the floor, cue colleague announcement, "Cleaner to till 4 immediately, customer spillage." No one came.

I returned early to the hospital for a regular bone scan, hips and lower spine. The scans only took 4 minutes. Getting into position for the lower spine was another matter. Lie flat on back, bum pushed towards bed. Place feet 2-3 feet apart. Then turn toes in towards each other, making legs as flat as they will go. At this point some sort of plastic wedge was shoved between my knees to keep my legs still. Finally a thick plastic strap was velcroed over which pushed my toes each side down into the bed. If I couldn't get my legs flat apparently they could then weight them with sandbags. Luckily I was deemed flat enough. Then "Relax, and keep as still as you can for 4 minutes."

10 minutes later I still couldn't get off the bed and my sacro-iliacs were screaming. "Now that wasn't too bad was it? " I muttered something unintelligible and fled to Nuclear Medicine who were by then almost ready for me.

Having been asked at the MRI last week to remove all my clothes and to wear surgical scrubs in order to 'preserve the cleaniless of the examination rooms and equipment', I was expecting to get changed or remove outer clothes at least. The Bone scan required no shoes and the removal of anything containing much metal, underwear OK, biker's leather belts, NOT. The Nuclear scan however required nothing in particular, only removal of my glasses lest the moving bits of the machine damaged them. I was nevertheless still totally unprepared when I had the foot image done to be asked to put my feet, which were STILL INSIDE my walking boots, flat to the table and bend my knees so the soles were flat on the bed. No problem. "This machine can see through boots." Yeah but what about the metal bits? And the dirt?

Lastly, I had a separate scan of my hands and for this I could seen the screen clearly as the image was produced; I was by now sitting with my hands on an imaging table. I asked what the strange scan was in the left-hand of the two screens.

"Oh we're not interested in that, it's just part of your head and arms and your head's all fuzzy." You bet it was by then.

Little things....

2009-01-13T10:02:00.006Z

Did you see my fish? Unashamedly pinched the idea from velo-gubbed-legs.

I love 'em, reminds me of blue skies, hot sun and clear blue seas. It's only taken me a week to realise though, they're even cooler than I thought.

Did you see what happens if you click on them and feed them? Smart.

Doesn't take much does it??

You saw it first

2009-01-10T14:12:00.008Z

here.

I'm a published writer! Ages ago, the lovely Bill from Corfu - Life up the Hill asked me if she could print something I'd written here for Nisea, a magazine she writes for in Corfu.

Finally, finally I got to see the result when the actual mag turned up in the post just before Christmas. My first time in print, I was really pleased. Not sure why they thought it was a poem, it was really a bit tongue in cheek, like a list the kids do when they go back to school after the summer but still they liked it, that's the main thing.

Now I've seen this though, I want to do some more. After all Mary Wesley didn't start writing until her 60's and her first novel wasn't published until she was 71, so I've got plenty of time left yet!

Ruling the Roost

2009-01-04T09:08:00.004Z

We've got some new residents here. Over the last few weeks of this frosty weather I've been feeding the birds in earnest, being able to find the feeders helped certainly but I did make extra effort to scramble over the mud seeing as the birds all looked so hungry. A pair of blackbirds seem to have taken up permanent residence along with a juvenile male, Fatso, who is huge and a thug to boot. A pair of pied wagtails, Bobby and Betty, are about most of time, also a robin and a wren along with the usual assortment of starlings, sparrows, various tits and my favourites, a small flock (about 8)of long tailed tits.

It's the juvenile blackbird who's in charge though. He stalks the wagtails mercilessly and on occasion won't even let them land. He's always on patrol and flies at anything in his way even pecking at them if he's in that frame of mind. A fight over scrap sausage rolls a couple of days ago made interesting watching. The wagtails sit on the neighbour's roof until Fatso is occupied in another direction and then fly down and pounce quickly before he has a chance to turn round and lunge at them. Misty and Nelson watch from the kitchen window but even they don't go near which I suppose is good news for all the other birds too. Bobby and Betty are plucky too and venture right up to the patio window which make for some good observations. (Graham Catley has good picture of a wagtail on his site this week, go and have a look.)

No sign yet of any of my beloved siskins. Last winter we had 23 in the trees at the rear of the old garden but they were exceptional and normally I don't see any until well into New Year so there is hope yet. Meanwhile Fatso's in charge, with a vengeance!

New Year's Eve

2008-12-31T08:14:00.005Z

started bright and early here. I didn't get the long lie-in I was after. Two reasons: 1) I woke myself coughing and couldn't stop and 2) I have 24 people coming for eats/drinks/whatever tonight and I now have to go get an MRI scan at noon.

Went for the MRI on Monday evening as previously directed only to find the scanner was BROKEN. I was told I'd wait at least another 3 weeks for a new appointment, but Lo and Behold yesterday they call and say go today. At least I get to finally start the PA (psoriatic arthritis) treatment after this.

My New Year's Eve 'At Home', (don't call it a party as WH hates parties) should be renamed 'gathering for those recovering from the bug' as every single person has had it and the phone lines have been hot with people checking that if they come they wouldn't infect anyone. Never have people been so courteous but given the nature of the disgusting germ round here, you wouldn't wish it on your own worst enemy.

So tonight we party and celebrate the back of a year that has been fairly rubbish and not much improvement on the previous one and that not only had a couple of bereavements but a murder trial as well. Hopefully 2009 will be much improved. As of this week the kitchen is all but finished, the driveway and front is too and that only leaves 2 bathrooms, the utility, cloakroom and a back garden to plan. Sounds quite a list but believe you me it's small beer compared with what WH has achieved in the rest of the house.

I'm really looking forward to 2009, it's almost 2 years since I first set foot in this house and I'd really like to be able to relax and enjoy it. I'd like WH to be able to too and rid himself of this awful depression, which I am assured has very little to do with the house but even so it would be a big relief.

So cheers here's to 2009 and a Happy NEW Year.

We wish you a Merry Christmas

2008-12-24T07:30:00.004Z

A very quick post in here to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas (I will def be right behind you on this one) and a hope 2009 is better for everyone too.

I'll be hoping for peace, love and understanding in my stocking as life with a possible bi-polar depressive is eventful to say the least and extremely stressful too. If I can survive the festive period and catering for seemingly half of Great Britain in what looks like an Afghan Field Kitchen I will will bestow up myself a Lifetime Achievement Award with a box of Hotel Chocolate's finest, won by dint of a relative suddenly informing me she's allergic to chocolate and has been for years so a substitute present had to be brought on p.d.q.

A final word to all you long suffering Better Halves out there, never EVER believe a builder or Worst Half when he says just a couple more days and it will be all done. Christmas dinner, if we ever get to cook any, will be spent in the field kitchen but only after all the guests have managed to scramble over the 6 foot hole outside the front door or battled through a pile of rubble and a utility with no walls. They have been warned.

Cheers. Hic!

An early Christmas present

2008-12-16T08:54:00.002Z

Those wild boys from Deer Lick Holler have been busy and given us not one but two new freely download-able tracks as a gift for Christmas. Kind of makes up for the fact that they have not toured this autumn, after 8 years solid gigging they did reserve a rest. Barley Scotch aka John Wheeler was supposed to be doing a solo tour of 'songs and standup', a reprise of his appearance at this year's Edinburgh Festival, however the deepening financial crisis and lack of ticket sales have forced him to cancel.

So mosey on down to their 'Tasting Room' and have a listen now. Hey, even download them if you really like them.

It's that sort of week

2008-12-15T17:14:00.006Z

and it's only Monday.

Last week I had a fatal error on my pc. It lost all my files. Nothing left, zilch, nada, zero. OK most stuff was backed up but not the VAT I had been working on for days. Today I rang my friendly neighbourhood PC Repair Man, actually my boss in a previous life. He couldn't save it either. So that was disaster number one. Moral of the tale back up your stuff daily. I just ordered an external hard drive to do it automatically now.

Number 2 problem is the washing machine has just packed up, sounds like the pump. It stayed full of water so I propped it up on bricks (of which I have a plentiful supply) and drained it out by gravity. Problem 3 occurred putting it all back. I leaned over and heard a distinct crack. A dull pain in my side ever since confirms my suspicions, another broken rib, sixth in 4 years. Ouch.

The washing machine is only 16 months old but in the move I forgot to renew my maintenance cover. I called up to check. What a joke, 'We'll only charge you £150 but this does include a FREE warranty for 12 months.' The whole machine only cost about £240. I called the local parts supplier, 'New pump? Off the shelf for that model, just come and collect it. Price? £14.99. ' So WH will be fitting that then.

Problem 4, not a problem really, more like a whinge, but the floor layers who were due at 2 just turned up now, at 5.15 so now I've got to spend half the evening glued in the living room which has the entire contents of the kitchen in. And WH will be home late; he has to go and pay for his skiing trip. So that will be me putting all the kitchen back at 9pm then. That's if they do lay the floor. Apparently this super high tech underlay we have just might need another type of glue. In which case they'll have to come back. One day in this mess is enough, I don't need any more, let alone the stink of 30 square meters of acrylic glue.

So that's just Monday, I wonder what else this week has in store, the looming MRI on my hands perhaps?

The NHS lets me down again

2008-12-14T10:53:00.005Z

Two weeks ago I saw a new Rheumatologist, new to me but not new 'in post'. WH had seen this chap once and we were both impressed with his approach, study ALL the notes, ask endless, seemingly unrelated, questions, quick-fire fashion all whilst his brain was processing the information at lightening speed. As it happened, he didn't think WH's problem fit his diagnostic criteria and recent events have confirmed that. I was thus prepared to be dazzled with the speed of a clever doctor's mind working overtime for me and overwhelmed by having to answer and hundred questions at once. I was also apprehensive that he would, like his colleagues dismiss me as another, over worrying 50-something.

Disarmingly he greeted me with a smile and with the words that he had studied my entire medical history and had noticed a large number of random ailments which he thought just might be connected. He said I had previously seen all the Rheumatologists in the district and now maybe I should get some answers. He proceeded to outline my collection of symptoms, starting at age 12 and a problem with my wrist, through sacro-iliac problems following being hit with a hockey ball the following year until he reached recent matters with my hands and feet, via skin rashes, allergies and the myriad investigations of the typical heart-sink patient. He then examined me and again surprised me by seemingly ignoring my hands other than a cursory glance and paying far more attention to my arm (long standing rash) and my feet which he poked and prodded and caused more pain then I have ever had in them and that's saying something. He asked me about cortisone I had had in my hands, shoulders and feet and got me generally confused and reduced to a gibbering wreck as I tried to answer him succinctly and quickly. After all, who can remember the precise date they had an injection in the sole of the foot, the pain, yes, but the month, possibly, the year probably. And so it went on. He told me to get dressed and then shouted from the other room to ask if I had ever had anything wrong with my scalp. I had, I have right now. He rushed back in and stroked all over my head, with a gentle version of an Indian head massage. 'Very extensive' was his only comment.

Returning to the office fully dressed, he appeared to be surfing the internet. I sat and waited. Finally he asked me about my family if anyone had arthritis - all except my mother, or psoriasis - my sister, my cousin. He then delivered his verdict. I have probably had psoriasis most of my life and now have full blown Psoriatic Arthritis. He described in detail symptoms I had which no doctor has ever made much of, the rash I can feel but is invisible, the joints which feel like they will burst, the itch I have had for upwards of 10 years but which will not go away, the sores I had on my head and which lead to long term bullying at school. My miraculous recovery last year was due to 2 things, the eradication of the Lyme bug from my system and the fact that the Lyme treatment is an old fashioned treatment for arthritis. A classic case of killing two birds with one stone, or in this case two illnesses with the same treatment. Which is why the arthritis and psoriasis have returned to fight another day but the Lyme symptoms have not. My previous diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis was similar but he felt only part of the picture.

He wrote me 3 prescriptions there and then and I had 4 x-rays, some blood taken and have to have a full bone scan and a MRI of my hands. 'About the only two tests you don't appear to have had already,' he joked. After the scans I can take some of the heavy duty stuff he has prescribed but for now I have pain killers which work (makes a change) and some weird cream made from chili peppers which magic the pain away in minutes. I have to be careful where I put that stuff though!

He smiled, was gentle and caring. I liked him, I trusted him, even more so when he said he has relatives with the same complaint. His aim is for me to be pain free in the long term and significantly better in a couple of months. After all he said you've seen enough people who had missed it, it's about time I had some treatment.

So once again I have been failed by the NHS and their cost cutting, time saving piece meal approach to patient care. When someone took the trouble to view me holistically and look at all the information instead of a tiny part the answer was staring him in the face and probably had been for 40 years.

Blue is the colour

2008-12-11T22:16:00.002Z

This is the colour of my new worktop. Looks much better in real life. Already I love it. The kitchen is finally taking shape, all those ideas which have been swirling round in my head for the last 18 months are finally coming to life. The depressed painter has almost done and we now have an alcove the exact colour of the worktop with the painting hanging on it from which the whole room took inspiration. It's a gouache of a Greek courtyard with blue and white walls, some steps and a vibrant fuchsia coloured bougainvillea, against a brilliant blue sky. When the sun shines and the whole room fills with light and warmth you can almost smell the thyme. Even in this extremely cold and frosty weather, this south-facing space fills with sun and is going to be a great place to sit.

Most of the cupboards are now in and on Monday the floor-layers come to finally put down the proper flooring after months of walking about on a mix of wood concrete and offcuts of carpet. After that we get the peninsular units in and then it's on to the last lap, tiling and a few decorative bits and pieces. I do hope it all goes smoothly, we have about ten people coming for Christmas day and I need a proper working kitchen, not the building site I've been living in until now!

Mind the gap

2008-12-02T09:12:00.005Z

Mind the gap? Yes I flippin' do.

Anyone who is any good at fixing blogger template problems please listen up......

I've got a horrendous gap in my sidebar, don't laugh now please, and it just appeared overnight. And now it won't go away. Whatever. Never. I hate it.

If anyone has any ideas how to fix this I'm all ears. It's driving me nuts and every time I look at it, it makes me more mad. I'm probably just obsessing because there is so much going on around here right now, talk about juggling, I'm juggling everyone else's stuff too and they all ran away and left me with the balls. Or rather no balls at all, I'm stressed right out.

It isn't even Christmas yet, that's the least of my worries thanks to the good old 'net', all my shopping 's been done online, even the food.

So back to the original topic, I know I'm rambling, my brain's turning to spagetti. Any ideas how to get rid of this stupid gap will be extremely welcome.

Thank you.

The smallest ones are the most aggravating

2008-11-27T12:18:00.010Z

The greys are more settled now. Never having lived anywhere with central hating until now, they have finally realised that the radiators are not going to jump off the wall and chase them, the odd little noises they make usually indicate that they are getting warm and that sitting on a window cill above a warm radiator is treat worth being brave for.

Usually in the day time they are together more often than not and now the weather has turned colder they stay indoors. Last week they were on the sofa and around the living room. This week they are on my bed, the living room having been moved round yet again awaiting the impending delivery of the fireplace.

So here they are, together but apart, as always. Misty at the back has his customary little sly look, as though he is wondering what to do next, watching me taking the photos as Nelson begins to snuggle down for a snooze after a long leisurely wash. Misty is always on the go, nervous as a tick, waiting for the moment to do some damage, play with something or just plain be his annoying self. Nelson has a new peace about him and is calmer now, life after Goggins has altered the dynamic and he revels in not being bullied and in the much larger house to lose himself in.

(Misty Back, Nelson Front)

Not for long though. Misty waits for me to finish the pics then he pounces, biting Nelson's ears and trying to dislodge him from the warm bed. Nelson however is developing a whole new temperament too, he feels more secure now and so for once he gets the better of his smaller, more fiesty brother. A swift smack on the nose has Misty scurrying, beaten, down the stairs and the bang of the cat flap tells us he has gone off in a huff. Looking through the front window I can see he is already out in the road on the trail of the Skankies six houses down. Now those miserable cats he can always beat. This new bold brother of his has finally got his measure and it's all becoming a bit hard to take.

(Misty Front, Nelson Back)

Even as I write the end of this Misty has returned and tried again, the Skankies couldn't have been out to play. Nelson refuses to budge and so the bored little Misty goes into the back room and beats hell out of the growing pile of christmas presents instead.

Happy Holidays

2008-11-26T21:50:00.004Z

It's Thanksgiving over the pond tomorrow, the official start of the 'Holiday' Season. In honour of this and as an early Christmas present to those of us here, those ever busy Hayseed boys have given us two previously unrecorded tracks as a thank you to all of us for supporting them over 8 long years of continuous gigging.

You can download them and as the man says 'spread them around' from here. Send them to your mates and educate them as to the true nature of Rockgrass. My fave has to be Father Christmas, a revival of an old Kinks track written well before the days of Asbos but as my fellow Hayseed fan Stellalover says, it sums up an Asbo Christmas perfectly. I think it has a touch of the Pogues about it too. It would make a great Christmas single and here they are giving it away for free. Thanks guys.

All planted out

2008-11-25T21:48:00.006Z

Not my new garden unfortunately, for we are still awaiting the arrival of the ground-workers who have been coming 'next week' since August and even set definite dates and times three times but have variously been rained off or prevented from coming here by having to do remedial work for flash flood emergencies. So yesterday I gave up thinking my garden will ever have top soil and rushed out and bought even more big blue tubs and thus today it was that I planted 200 assorted bulbs into said tubs. Next year I will have flowers in my garden, they just wont be in the ground but in 30-odd varieties of blue frost free planters which are lining up along the patio like rows of little blue soldiers.

The other side of the (half built, brickies were rained off too)steps are serried ranks of herbaceous perennials looking very straggly and died down but which are actually humungous plants which will easily split into 2 or three pieces when they are finally released. These were scooped from my local National Trust garden the last couple of weeks.

I went on the Saturday to go to their annual Craft Fair and made a detour on the way out to check the sale area of the garden shop. Oh my! What delights awaited there. All these perennials, some quite unusual which had been marked down to 50p or £1 from a previous price of between £6 and £8. I hastily grabbed a dozen of the most obvious things to jump up at me and hastened home. I returned the following week with my Best Friend and bought another 16. Total outlay for 28 plants, £22. Result. Amongst these were a small tree, Eucryphia Lucida 'Pink Cloud' £1, a False Lily of the Valley, Maianthemum canadense 50p and a Lobster Claw, Clianthus puniceus 50p. If even one of these grows I'll have had my money's worth. Two hostas £1 each were bigger than some of the ones I have had in pots for 12 months pending this move. The jewel in the crown must be however, this one ,Anemone riparia, a North American native also known as the Tall Anemone.

If she survives, all this garden aggro will have been worth it. Now I just need that top soil to plant her in.

Nice to see you

2008-11-19T19:18:00.004Z

Been awol awhile. Not my fault exactly but the last few days I've had a horrendous problem with my ISP and finally tracked it down to a problem at my local telephone exchange. This afternoon it was fixed in the good old fashioned way by a man actually going there apparently. I didn't know they did that anymore.

So now I'm back online but not through my AOL software which still continues to give us grief. I asked for my MAC numbers 3 days ago to migrate elsewhere, more a threat than a real commitment. Now today I receive a bargain deal from Sky drop through my letter box, less than a sixth of my current monthly charge and free calls too. Wonder if it is too good to miss?? I might just see after 6 months of hassle with AOL's unreliable service. I thought it was poor in the old house, since the move it's been 10 times worse. 8 years ago it was brilliant, I recommended them to everyone and argued with several. Now I'm beginning to change my mind.

Check out Durty Dan

2008-11-02T10:33:00.002Z

Kitchen Crazy

2008-11-02T08:13:00.006Z

After two whole weeks of seeing, breathing, reading and almost eating kitchen designs, diagrams, pc screens, mock-ups, plans and long hours in boring showrooms we finally decided on a kitchen last Wednesday. What is more, they delivered it on Friday. So there it sits in the alcove all wrapped in cerise shrink wrap waiting to be taken out and fitted. I spent almost all of Thursday on the net and the phone ordering appliances. Just the worktops to get now. That will be the easiest, it was the only element that WH and I agreed instantly on, we both fell in love at the same moment, casting out our vow not to have anything too quirky. So the worktops will be blue granite, quite a bright blue. Just have to get on the blower and order them tomorrow, our supplier conveniently having stock check days yesterday and Friday so not able to take orders.

The alcove though will remain an alcove. Because the overall space is large, over 6m square and has some structural features which we had to keep, it was difficult to get a cohesive layout that encompassed the entire area. One side of the room will be the dining area wherein lies said alcove. Having seen what effect the cerise wrap has had on the whole space we're now thinking sideboard. Old fashioned in name, our ideal is anything but. We're thinking something on the lines of the one above but in blue, bright blue. Oooh I want to order it now.

Just another little tune.

2008-10-26T23:32:00.002Z

I first heard this at a Hayseed Dixie gig in Exeter a few years ago. Not one of theirs but it was being played over the pa before hand, Dave Bennett's choice perhaps?

Anyway have a giggle and try to ignore the pictures, hopefully not representative of what's in my fridge.

Welcome to the house of fun

2008-10-24T21:16:00.002Z

OK, OK, I know the subject matter of this is not really relevant but the title sure sums my life up pretty well at the moment and as for the name of the band, Madness, that definitely says it all.

Nuff said.

Going out

2008-10-18T21:56:00.003Z

I still don't seem to have much time to come here these days. Maybe it has something to do with WH being home all day after his shoulder op, two weeks ago. And then again maybe it has something to do with WH being in the throws of a real bad depression, so much so I'm not really sure how to cope any more. I've ordered loads of reading material from the net but of course it hasn't actually arrived just yet.

He's stopped taking all his meds as well which doesn't help and failed to appraise his GP of that fact at his most recent appointment. The GP is, however, writing a strongly worded letter to the local health authority as he is STILL awaiting a consultant's appointment that he was referred for in late January. Waiting list? They must have fiddled his entry on that one, it's now more like 40 weeks not 13.

Actually the real reason I've not been here is I've been out quite a lot, I need to get out on my own or I'd be going mental too. Today I braved the nearest IKEA, still some 70 miles away, and bought the last of a line of bookcase/dresser type things that will adorn the whole of one wall in the living room. I just have to put it together. I'm quite proud of my living room, all the flat-pack was assembled by my own fair hands. It took me ages and I'm doubtless much slower than a normal person but I quite enjoy doing it. Years ago I did all the bedroom furniture too and I must have a reasonable technique aided by extensive use of woodworking glue which never comes with the stuff but which I always use, but none of it has ever even thought about falling apart.

So tomorrow I've got a real treat. Assemble the latest cupboard then retrieve the last of my studio pottery collection from the old garage and arrange in said cupboard. Now that I will stay in for.

Settling in - part 2

2008-10-11T07:29:00.005Z

Read part 1 here.

After the first few days of nervous exploration the family settled to it's new home fairly well. Goggins stayed near the house at all times, so long as he was fed and could find WH he was happy.

The grey twins quickly took over the neighbourhood like a pair of seasoned pros. Opening the garage door each afternoon in order to take out the hosepipe to water the pots of plants along the front wall, I would be followed by the grey pair who would shoot out onto the crown of the road and look up and down to ensure no other cats were lurking in the undergrowth. They roamed up and down the road together, sniffing out all the cars and checking neighbours gardens for rivals. They seemed to be saying 'Right lads let's be having you if you want a good scrap'. Of course in reality, if another cat did appear they scarpered back indoors or came up close to me. They did have a few skirmishes with a group we named the Skankies, poor bedraggled, underfed little scraps and to whose owner I would normally have returned them immediately after they riffled the bins and black bags for anything remotely edible. In essence these are hungry cats and good scavengers. I steered clear of the owners however, having heard their reputation and of the abuse previous complainants had received from them.

Misty as the more adventurous twin had a few test hisses and headbutts but Nelson kept his distance.

One cat they didn't like however was Josephine, sister of Napoleon, a stray who had moved in round at the other house. At the height of our wrangles with his owner we were told that 'his sister 'never strays'. Closer questioning revealed that of course Josephine wasn't his REAL sister, just the other household cat. Well now she does stray into our utility room, she wrecks our bin bags and pinches the grey's food. Naturally they chase her off at every opportunity.

Eventually they started to wander more. Misty has just extended his territory, returning the open space round at the other house and checking all points in between. Nelson sometimes goes with him. When he does they often come back together. When they don't and Misty slips home unnoticed, Nelson forgets where to go and panics. Several times a week, we were losing Nelson and we had to search him out. He was always in the same place on the doorstep of the old house. he shrieked and cried when he saw us but by then worked up into a nervous frenzy as only he can get, he proves difficult to catch and then won't follow us. Several times I have had to carry him home. Once I put him in the car and drove the 200 metres whilst he screamed and cried in the back. He hid for 3 days after that so I wont be repeating the the performance. Sometimes Misty will accompany when I go to fetch Nelson and because of that I discovered one reason for Nelson not coming home. he is afraid of a large ginger tom in the road and alley between the two houses. Misty doesn't even entertain the idea of fear. the ginger tom was stalking Misty from underneath a van the day I saw him. Misty just charged up to him, drawing him out hissing and spitting. Misty headbutted him straight between the eyes, spat and swiped him with a tiny paw. the ginger cat looked astonished and turned to follow us as we passed with a look of ' What the hell was that?' before retreating deep under the van. Now we have to walk Nelson round the long way as he wont go into that road at all, when I carried him once he freaked and cried and struggled, wrestled free and ran off.

A week into living here Goggins disappeared. He too was round at the other house and thus began three weeks of WH each morning at half past seven driving the van round, picking up Goggins in the van and driving him back before he went off to work. Goggins loved the van, he was high up and could see everything. He hated being caged in the car but sitting up on the front seat of the van he seemed to be waving like the Queen, 'Look at me with my own personal driver'. By the last few days he would wait for WH on the corner of the road as though for a bus. even with raging pneumonia he went there every night and stayed. Only the couple of days before he died did he stay home here.

Now Goggins has gone Misty has taken over as WH's personal minder and bodyguard. He sleeps with him and curls up on the sofa with him, following him everywhere in the house. Nelson too has become much more affectionate with WH and more erelaxed. Obviously Goggins, though an old man was till top cat and they deferred to him. Now they are both much more relaxed, other than the time we put a new door on the kitchen.

Originally our kitchen gave out into the utility and there was cat flap on the outside door. As it has become cooler and we still had no heating we put an internal door on the kitchen to keep out the draught from the unfinished utility. For the plan to work however we needed a second cat flap so we could keep the door shut. WH installed the same model as in the outside door but Nelson got confused. He thought his cat flap had moved and he was trapped. It took 4 days for him to get used to it and even then he shot through like rocket in case it grabbed his tail. Misty uses it but doesn't like it and has developed an elaborate ritual of tapping it loudly several times to announce the fact he is coming through. It did seem rather loud so as it as an internal door, WH removed the magnetic edging that seemed to be the cause of the noise. That only made things worse as the slightest breeze caused it to whine like a horror film ghost. Nelson wouldn't use it at all by then preferring to 'ask' us to open the patio doors for him. Eventually after a few days of that charade we replaced the magnet and just left them to it.

Lately Nelson has taken to sitting on the fence in the sun and on top of a pile of paving slabs. He is becoming more aggressive with next door's ginger wimp who disappears at the flash of an eye or a brief hiss. Nelson is becoming more in control. Misty is in control. He keeps an eye on the Skankies and Josephine and has made friends with an elderly major at the top of the road. He visits him in his front garden and sits in the sun on his doorstep. The major is delighted. We however know differently, his real purpose is to stalk the green woodpeckers who frequent the major's garden. So far they have the upper hand, but only time will tell.

So much to do, so little time

2008-10-08T08:13:00.005Z

It's been hectic round here, mainly because loads of things in the house are now taking shape. By this weekend we will have heating. That will be very welcome. We might also (weather permitting) have a finished patio and garden wall so no longer will we be trailing tons of red sand through the house. Tonight the electrician is coming to fit the fire alarms too, nice not have to look at the bare wires which have been poking through the ceilings for about 8 months now.

Our trip to the Lovely Lyme Doc last week was good. We took the Depressed Painter and he spent the afternoon taking photos of the town centre whist we sat in the consulting rooms. I have been 'discharged' as far as Lyme goes. No more treatment. I just have to get the RA sorted now. It looks like I am stuck with that but then it does run in my family so it may not be Lyme related at all though we suspect the Lyme triggered it.

WH was not so fortunate, he most probably has been bitten at some stage as he has a number of systemic problems which so far the NHS has not addressed or investigated the cause of. He has only ever been treated for the symptoms. (Sound familiar?) So in a weeks time he starts the antibiotic treatment to see if it makes a difference. He's doing it for 3 or 4 months to see what happens. He can't lose anything and he may well gain a lot. Watch this space.

Last week too WH had the dreaded shoulder decompression which so far has been relatively pain free although stopping him from over-using his right arm is more problematic. The only real downside is his depression is worse, he's totally lethargic 50% of the time and very agressive the rest. Even the Grandkids yesterday, playing I-Spy in the car, suggested 'MD' for Miserable Granddad. I seem to be referee most of time in the constant battle between WH and the rest of the world.

Me? I just keep smiling, doing far too much and trying to be 'infant teacher' bright and jolly at all times. Only when I sit here at the desk letting my mind wander do I let my my pasted-on grin slip and wonder if it is all worth it.

Statins again

2008-09-27T06:27:00.006Z

Picture courtesy of the Alliance for Human Research Protection

I have been overwhelmed by the information sent to me about the problems with statins. Thank you to all the people who did refer me to the right places. Thank you too to my net-friend who has always counselled about their over-promotion and extreme side effects, the inclination for that person to say a big 'I told you so' has so far been ignored and I am grateful for that.

What I have learned though is that these days we can't take anything our medics tell us at face value. I'm not GP bashing here so I hope that NHSblogdoctor doesn't get all irate on me. Our front-line doctors are not specialists that's what they're called GENERAL Practitioners, they are only as good as the information they are given. If the government and Big Pharma is pushing a certain view it is easier and less time consuming to accept that 'wisdom'. I didn't initially think I needed to challenge the advice that WH was given either, and I didn't. Now I have I am shocked.

One piece of my research has really brought the message home. Just watching this was like looking at WH in the litle box, ignoring the northern accent and substituting a deep westcountry burr, is like watching WH in the little tv screen. It could be him up there reciting his experiences. So it looks like this statin problem really has come to haunt us.

It is a sad indictment of these times that patients with complex medical problems now have to research their treatments themselves to ensure that the drugs they are prescribed for 'their own good' are not the cause of much of their wider illness. The drug companies have a stranglehold over the governments, the medics and the public at large the world over and make obscene amounts of money by peddling their 'non cures'. The big question is, how the hell do we stop them?

Happy Birthday to me ?

2008-09-26T22:48:00.004Z

yes, it's that day again when I turn another year older. I haven't had quite the day I expected but the second half has been pretty good, culminating in a tea party more reminiscent of a five year old's not a fifty something's. The only thing missing was the jelly.

I think from henceforth however, I'm going to ban all family celebrations, as for the last several WH has been ill each time. Today is no exception, he along with oldest step daughter appears to contracting a particularly nasty virus. With his shoulder surgery scheduled in less than a week, it looks like we may be in for a postponement. Sod's law again conspires against us. Maybe not such a good birthday after all.

Statins

2008-09-25T07:38:00.006Z

I seem to have been really busy the last few days and having WH with a major relapse of depression hasn't helped. All this could have been avoided had he not revisited the statin problem. With statins he is verging on suicidal, without them his cholesterol rises to atomic levels due to his hereditary high cholesterol, he makes it as well as eats it! Of course when he's taking them the whole mood dampening thing kicks in and then he lives on junk food, refuses 'proper dinners' with veg and his level rises even further as soon as he stops them. They also appear to make him extremely tired which dampens the mood further. We've tried the healthy eating kick and the plant ester supplements but it's extremely dificult for someone who a) hates most veg with a vengeance b) detests yogurts and c) would live on meat alone if he could or in a pasty or some other type of pastry if he could get away with that.....It's doubly difficult when my cholesterol level is low to mid range and I exist almost entirely on veg and fruit.

Conversations, if that's what you have with someone who answers only in monosyllables, have been fraught but there do seem to be some alternatives out there without the dreaded statins. My GP said there were 'other choices' but did not elaborate, his says 'take statins or drop down dead', not much choice there then. Next move I think, if I can persuade, him is to seek advice at a higher level, presumably there is a consultant out there who specialises in this type of thorny problem. Until then, we both suffer the horrid side effects. I'm still at a loss to explain however why the GP would put him back on them given the fact he was suicidal on them before, his quality of life on them is rubbish so they're not exactly preserving him for much.

Yesterday he was like a new man, unbeknown to me he had dropped the pills for a few days. It took 3 days for the mood effects to go. Feeling confident that I DID notice the difference, he promptly took one again last night. Looks like I'm in for another crap weekend.

Yet another NHS rant....

2008-09-17T07:57:00.002Z

Whoops they did it again..... and this time it's not anyone in this household but someone locally using the same GP practice and whose treatment, or rather non-treatment, has shocked us to the core.

About 2 years ago this lady pulled a muscle in her side moving something awkwardly in the stockroom at work. A few days rest with a couple of analgesics a day had failed to improve the dull ache she felt. Six weeks later and the pain was still there. her GP said it would take time to heal, these things always did. A whole year later she was still experiencing pain in the affected side. Still the GP recommended, gentle exercise and to stop thinking about it so much. Eighteen months later and the pain was worse, she became yet another heart-sink patient," keep on taking the pain killers; take your mind off it; maybe you're depressed, have some antidepressants" ad nauseum. A appointment with a second GP, the first being on holiday reinforced the 'non-treatment'. Maybe it WAS all in the mind.

Eight weeks ago when the pain at night was unbearable her husband said he'd had enough and took her to A&E. After a few blood tests and such like she was kept in and had an MRI scan. The next day she was informed that she had something seriously wrong internally, most likely cancer of the liver. The following week she underwent a liver biopsy and another scan. Four weeks later she was finally told they had lost the results and she must undergo another. Last week she was admitted again for the second biopsy. By now weak and quite poorly it was questionable whether she was fit enough to undergo it. She had yet another scan and more tests. The day of scan dawned and she was told early on that she wouldn't be having one. The doctor would be down later to speak to her about it. By then the family was distraught, finally in the late afternoon a junior doctor appeared and bluntly told her there was no point having any biopsies, the cancer had spread to the pancreas, was widespread throughout her system. She failed to take it all in and in case was not told the prognosis in layman's terms, her poor husband had to relay the 'simple' explanation, "He means it's too far gone, they can't do anything". Cue to go home, although it was suggested a couple of days in the hospice might 'help her sort herself out'. A planned course of chemotherapy at the local centre of excellence had been cancelled. 2It wouldn't do you any good". Home she went to face a bleak future, no sign of any additional treatments for the now numerous weakening symptoms.

This week the chemo team rang, "Where are you? You should have started treatment today". On being told that it was all cancelled as it would be pointless all that was rubbished, "Nonsense, we can make you feel more comfortable, deal with some of the symptoms and give you a bit longer with your family. She declined the opportunity unwilling to throw her hat in with the NHS any longer.

National Health SERVICE? If that's what they call service you can keep it.

The honeymoon is over - again

2008-09-16T21:46:00.005Z

I've had my last GP for just under two years. I've always got on with her pretty well and she has been very supportive of my Lyme treatment within the confines of this practice. I wasn't too impressed that she hadn't spotted the problem with my foot last year, see here, here and here , but then neither did 2 other GPs and a nurse, but overall I'm as happy as anyone relying on the NHS can be. Until yesterday that is.

As I have blogged about recently my Lyme symptom free period has come to an end and I am awaiting a consult with my LLD (Lovely Lyme Doc). Obviously then I have some symptoms to consult about. My hands are like wood which are trying to curl up at the sides as well as along their length and which are very painful most of the time, my feet which are trying to do the same and are painful to walk on, and stiffness everywhere for at least 2 hours each morning and then periodically throughout the day. All in all symptoms of Lyme related Rheumatoid Arthritis. My weight loss has slowed right down too, but given that I am not so active and that Lyme tends to make you put on weight I wasn't too worried about that in the light of my 3 stone loss this year so far.

So, my suggested treatment to help me put up with this lot until I can kill a few more spirochaetes with the appropriate medicines? Go on, have a guess. Walking. A 30 minute brisk walk 5 times a week. It will help me lose weight and keep up the good work. I should examine my diet again too, to rev up the weight loss which of course will make me feel a whole lot better. My carpal tunnel syndrome which only appears when the RA is at it's worst will go because I will have lost weight around my wrists. No mention of the horrid lumps which have formed on the palms and the soles of my feet and which went shortly after beginning the original Lyme treatment. No mention of anything for the pain. And if I want to lose weight even faster perhaps I could come off the beta blockers which I have taken for over 10 years because of strange palpitations, valve anomalies and other Lyme related heart problems, it slows me down and makes me sluggish and stops me losing weight.

"How do I walk that much when I'm in agony?" I asked. Answer: Think of the good it's doing you. Walking is apparently much better for you than anything else including hard digging as it raises your heart rate and gets you breathless, you can work your arms too as you walk to increase the calorie uptake. Having done a lot of digging in the last week, (3 hours a day on 3 separate days admittedly interspersed by lots of little rests), I have been removing concrete from the patio, raking and wielding a pick axe then sorting flints and stones for a drainage bed, I realise I was wasting my time I should have been walking instead.

I relayed all this to WH tonight as he dug out part of the lawn for a flight of steps, with the pick axe on our extremely heavy clay. If the doctor can do this at this speed without losing her breath then she's in the wrong job" he retorted, "I do it for a living and I'm still knackered and out of breath".

What is it with these GPs? Are they now only trained in certain illnesses/problems as determined by the latest fads of Her Majesties Government? What happened to old fashioned medicine, compassion and seeking to help the patient? The Hippocratic oath states "I will keep them from harm and injustice", perhaps it no longer applies to todays doctors?

Settling in - part 1

2008-09-16T00:05:00.008Z

We're a two cat family again since the demise of Goggins a few weeks back and the fur babies are finally settling down. I still think of them as kittens although they were six a couple of months ago. The house was very strange to them at first but now Misty is taking it well in his stride and Nelson is getting there slowly.

The day of the big move I was awol in Exeter whilst WH and mates did all the hard work. Firstly he caught up the three babes (we still had Goggins then) took them round the corner in the van and deposited them in his new bedroom which was all furnished and lovely and complete with their toys, other favourite things, food, water and litter tray he'd made from an upturned manhole cover. So far so good. He shut the door on them and the move commenced. So did the noise. All three started howling as only a cat can and kept it up for a good couple of hours. I'm glad I wasn't here. When all was done about noon, WH duly opened the bedroom door so that they could have a look round. Misty shot off and wasn't seen again, Nelson and Goggins had decamped to either side of the window cill and would not be prised off, not no way. No food had been eaten and the litter tray untouched.

And there they stayed until I got home at about 7pm. Misty was still missing though how he could have got outside was a mystery but then he's that sort of cat. I wasn't so convinced, I was sure he was holed up somewhere and just knew that when his stomach got the better of him he'd re-appear. The other two still stayed put too. Eventually I began to sort out my room and make up the bed, emptying bin bags full of clothes into drawers and all the while talking to myself in a very loud voice.

The scuffling started in the corner of the soon to be second bathroom behind a pile of mattresses, then a whimper, then an anguished cry. Finally a little face peeped out of the side of the pile and the hiding place was revealed. Misty had been there all along, not a metre from the door of the bedroom. Nelson stayed on the window cill but Goggins bravely followed WH downstairs, had a quick, manly cuddle, a mouthful or two of tuna and went out of the back door to explore the garden with WH, down the side of the house and back in via the front door. Piece of cake. He'd got his bearings and went in and out a few times quite happily. Being senile I suppose he forgot where he was and so long as he had WH in his surroundings he was OK.

We tried to feed Misty and Nelson their supper in the hall, hoping they'd come downstairs. They didn't. I took some smelly fish on to the landing and they still stayed put. Eventually we gave up worrying and went to bed. Once in the dark, they shot out of hiding and jumped on my bed, only to spend the entire night as close to my head as possible to make sure it was really me. About 2am they were joined by Goggins who had spent the intervening period walking up and down the landing looking for WH and not quite finding him. I was second choice so I had to do. Needless to say I had no sleep whatsoever although WH did his customary 'head-on-pillow, sleep-for-10-hours' trick. At six am I got up and was followed downstairs by two starving, grey cats. I fed them then let them out into the garden, going with them for a few minutes. Nelson shot back in, Misty shot off over the fence. Nelson retreated back to bed for safety. Later I spent a few minutes showing him where the cat flap was but he hated it, he'd rather go through the patio door. Goggins was fine, had a second breakfast and went to sit on his garden chair which we had thoughtfully moved to the new garden and placed in the sun for him.

At about 10 I thought I'd take some stuff to the other garage, I drove up, parked, and then my neighbour accosted me, just as Misty peered sheepishly out from behind a bush glaring at me and staring at the old house. I must have been on form that day as I quickly grabbed him, shoved him in the back of the car, covered him with an upturned box weighted down with another heavier one, and drove the 200 metres back to the new house. He was mad at me for doing that and kept up a stream of abuse even whilst I got him out and put him back in the kitchen. I gave him some fish to reinforce the fact he was now 'home' and he forgot his anger for the thirty seconds it took him to eat it. Since then he always returns. Now Nelson is the problem. He goes visiting his old haunts and can't remember his way back.

Meet the gang 'cos the boys are here........

2008-09-15T16:21:00.004Z

We haven't seen many birds in this garden yet. Several reasons 1) it still looks like a building site and at any given time there is likely to be someone out there making a noise of some description 2) the bird feeding station WH had for his birthday was really put in the wrong place, in the centre of an open space backed by a neighbour's eucalyptus tree 3) the resident cats are still staking out their new territory and patrolling fences to repel any potential invaders and 4) there are not nearly so many big trees. Despite the fact we are only 150m as the crow (or any bird for that matter) flies from the old place it really is quite a different habitat to get used to.

Yesterday, however, I took advantage of the good weather to remove the timber mountain from the future lawn, move all my pots of stuff awaiting transplant and had a general tidy up. I had to leave the cement mixer as it is needed later this week but 7 builder's dustbins were moved to the yard along with bags of sand and enough tools to stock a shop. I also moved the feeding station adjacent to the apple trees, with a neighbour's buddleia and a laurustinus nearby for extra cover.

This morning large as life I had a small flock of about 15 long tailed tits casing the joint and sampling the menu. They hung around for about half an hour until a neighbour's cat (thankfully not one of mine) appeared over the fence and looked menacingly at them. I took that as my cue to frighten him off and so the birds went too although half a dozen were back again in less than 5 minutes joined by a couple of great tits and a coal tit. I'm hoping this will be the shape of things to come and that they liked the new restaurant and will bring their mates. I now just need to attract the flock of goldfinches which fly past several times a day but as yet have not seen the niger waiting for them and it will finally seem like home.

Barking Mad

2008-09-12T08:00:00.003Z

Before I moved I was looking for peace and quiet and a calmer existence than I had in the other house. After 23 years behind a noisy estate, the last 12 of which having noisy dogs next door I thought I was due a little quiet. Well the old adage 'you never know what's round the corner' certainly rang true here. I sit writing this to the sound of a dog frantically barking and whining. This will probably go on all morning. I've started recording the dates and times and find it sometimes barks for 5 hours at a time.

A chat last weekend with my neighbour about this only elicited the response that she'd never heard it and it was 'only' because the dog, a Jack Russell, was caged when everyone is out of the house, the reason being it chews the furniture when it's alone. The problem which became apparent when we were building the extension has worsened, we thought it was due to strange noises and builders being around, we didn't realise it's ALWAYS like this.

My hands are now tied on all this, if I take further action, ie. involving the local council noise people I would have to declare this as an impediment to a sale should I wish to sell the house at a later stage, it's part of these new Home Information Packs. Seemingly I may as well talk to the dog as talk to the owner for all the good that did.

How do I get out of this one? Will my ears ever be free of barking dogs? This one is slowly driving me nuts, I can't think and I can't seem to escape it. Stressed out just doesn't begin to cover it.

So that's how they shorten the waiting lists

2008-09-09T16:18:00.007Z

This is the diary of someone I know on a NHS waiting list.

Mid January: Patient goes to their GP and is referred to a speciality clinic.

February: An appointment is received for 9 March.

9 March: Patient turns up to the clinic and is told that they had been sent the wrong date by mistake; there was no one there to see them. A new appointment is made.

12 March: Patient attends first session at clinic which is basically filling in some forms and a brief 5 minute chat. An appointment is made for to begin a course of treatment in April.

April: The treatment clinic appointment is cancelled by telephone the day before it is due to take place because the patient has been referred to 'the wrong type of person'. A referral to another clinic will be made.

May: Patient calls up and asks why they had heard nothing. They are told that their referral letter has been lost and the clinic will have to ask the GP for another one.

Early June: GP calls the patient and says he has been asked to do another referral, do they still need it.

Mid June: Patient receives a letter for an appointment on 9th Sept .

Late June: Patient receives a phone call saying the appointment date on the letter was wrong and a new one would be sent. Receives another letter changing it to 10th Sept

9 Sept: Patient receives a phone call cancelling tomorow's appointment because the referral should have been sent to the Primary Care Trust and not the Community Health Team so the referral has to be made again.

NHS Choices has this to say about waiting lists:

Since 01 January 2006, no patient in England should have to wait more than 13 weeks from when they see their GP and the decision is made that a referral to a specialist is necessary, and their first outpatient appointment.

Well we know better don't we? This way, the patient gets off the waiting list and has to start again, best of all they receive no costly treatment so are saving the NHS money too. Wonderful isn't it? There is no involvement from any medically qualified staff at all, it can all be managed by pen pushers.

RESULT! A cost saving and a shorter waiting list to boot. And I thought that the NHS was here to treat us.

It's just a shame that NHSblogdoctor is still on holiday, he'd enjoy this one.

Lyme rears its ugly head again

2008-09-06T07:40:00.006Z

Borrelia burgdorferi, the bacteria responsible for Lyme Disease; Nature,

International Weekly Journal of Science

I stopped taking the antibiotics prescribed by my Lovely Lyme Doctor (LLD) 5 months ago. After the side effects (extreme photo-sensitivity) wore off I felt brilliant. This continued for the next 16 weeks or so. I have done so much this summer that I never even dreamed about.

Now I have to report that a few of the Lyme symptoms are creeping back, notably the Rheumatoid Arthritis which is making life somewhat difficult now. As always it's my hands which are affected worst; on waking every morning my right hand is locked solid and I have prise open my fingers one by one. My left hand is stiff and feels like wood like the right one but at least my fingers do open albeit somewhat painfully. On a bad day I am now unable to use my right hand for much for about 3 hours, having very little movement or indeed grip. Dressing is a pain and recently we have had to resort to WH dressing me, not least because the Depressed Painter has been in residence and he arrives at the unearthly hour of 7.40am; confronted by a partially dressed me, he would be twenty times more embarrassed than me so I HAVE to get dressed. Dancing at the Hayseeds gig the other night had the effect of making both my hands swell up to Michelin proportions after which I had no real movement and certainly no grip, good job then that it wasn't me who had to drive our little party home.

Luckily the crushing tiredness isn't there (touches wood frantically) but I've had the odd bit of peripheral neuropathy and the dreaded crawling sensation across my right shoulder blade. My weight loss has come to a halt too (at 19kg or 3 stones) it's proving almost impossible to get back on track and I so wanted to lose a further 6kg or so before Christmas making it 4 stones in twelve months. I already have my eye on Monsoon's window!

So all this leads me to the conclusion that I will have to start the treatment again, those Borrelia bugs must have come out of hiding in my nervous system and be multiplying again. Got to stop them in their tracks. To this end I am awaiting an appointment with the LLD which neatly leads me to my next revelation. It seems that WH may have Lyme Disease too. He is now in a worse physical state than me with all the symptoms I had at my worst and then some. He is extremely poorly right now and struggles to carry on working. He had an NHS Lyme test a couple of weeks ago and as yet we have no results. For the mean time his GP has referred him to the LLD too. A double appointment (and a big bill) beckons but it will be worth it. I am still overall fitter than I was for the last 16 years, I just hope and pray that WH can improve as much too.

Net Friends

2008-09-01T13:50:00.003Z

A few weeks ago we travelled north spent two evenings in the company of those Boys from Deer Lick Holler and also had the opportunity to spend some time with a couple of my closest friends. The amazing thing is that one of those, I had never met 'in the flesh' as it were until then. I have known this person almost 7 years here on the net and because of the distances involved and the fact that neither of us are particularly well we had never been able to engineer a meeting before.We originally met on an American run chat site specific to our ailments, or in my case the the 'wrong' diagnosis I was being treated for. Eventually Board Wars caused that site to disperse and we moved elsewhere to another American site. The same thing happened again, so we gave up the chat sites and contact each other directly now. The third member of our little group comes down here on holidays and we endeavour to meet up then, the last time being about 4 months ago. It was a lovely meeting, we all gabled away as though we had been around each other for ever. It felt comfortable and easy, not at all like being in the company of strangers, even the Worst Halves felt like they had known each other a while.

Tomorrow we travel to Bristol to see the band again and will meet up with other friends originally found here on the net. Wonderful to think that our paths would never have crossed had it not been for the internet.

On the last minute

2008-08-24T07:32:00.005Z

As per usual everything is a mad rush again. My tenants finally move in on Wednesday and WH has just decided to a) change the immersion heater, b) empty out the loft and c) fix the smoke alarms which have been sitting in the kitchen for 5 weeks. Just when I need help to sort out the garden.

Last week I employed the services of a student to help me do my bit, but torrential rain the first 3 days ensured we achieved nothing. WH took the lad to work with him. On Thursday we finally got going and three hours after starting some serious work the lad decided he had a bad back and couldn't do any more digging. I sent him off on his own to cut the lawn and tidy up. Fifteen minutes later he arrived back said all was done and and tidied and he duly went home. Later I discover the lawn looks like it has been cut with a knife and fork, or maybe a goat has had random bites out of it, the few grass cuttings are still in the mower box in the garage and in any case the only bit that has been touched is in the centre. If anything it looks worse than before he started. So today after 2 nights of even more heavy rain I have to set to and get it looking pristine.

Meanwhile all is not well with the letting agent. This is my third agent and the beginning of the relationship looked promising. The manager certainly talked the talk, the adverts went out quickly and tenants were found on the first serious viewing. This was all 6 weeks ago. The paperwork was all to follow. Three weeks ago the terms and conditions arrived and we decided that as we are so close to the house we would manage the property ourselves. We awaited the contract. Two weeks ago I called the office and asked where it was, "Don't worry all the paperwork is coming together, loads of time yet." Last Monday I called again. No-one in the office at all this time so I left a voice-mail. No-one called back. I rang again on Thursday. "Oh it must have got lost in the post." Why did no-one return my (numerous) calls? " It's the school holidays, lots of people are on holiday and several were sick. No problem it can all be done today, I'll drop it off tonight." She didn't. The contract finally arrived on my doormat on Friday morning to the sound of a hastily driven off car. Several key points were wrong, names and address of the Landlord for a starters. A call to the office revealed the Manager was out, again. The secretary said she would sort it and I would be hand-delivered a new agreement on Friday night. I am still waiting.

Why is it that these firms are all very ready to talk up their service and to take your money but when it comes to actually doing anything they fall at the first hurdle? Their attention to detail is absolutely zero. All these systems are in place for instant messaging, voice-mails and good old fashioned secretaries still take messages but no one ever replies. The offices are run by brightly dressed 20-somethings who talk a lot and do bugger all else. No-one checks anything.

I just hope that on Tuesday the Lettings Manager will actually turn up to do the inventory and condition report but at £100 plus an hour I expect she will. Whether it will get typed correctly and delivered to me in time remains to be seen.

At least I am not still with the second agent I had. WH has been working in a property managed by them. They were given carte blanche in terms of the time scale, no one was due to move in for at least a month. Some of the job was tiling, so days were left for stuff to dry and other jobs fitted in between which ultimately gives a better end result and a smarter finish for the customer. By Friday there were a couple more days left to do and then the refurbishment was finished. The painter, returning the key to the letting office at the end of the week, casually asked if a tenant had been found yet. "Oh yes, we always had one, he moves in on Tuesday." We received a frantic phone call from the already stressed painter. Cue much swearing from WH who is now working over the Bank Holiday in order to complete by 8.30 on Tuesday morning.

And they call this property management?

Progress of sorts

2008-08-19T08:06:00.002Z

Five weeks living in the new house and progress is slow. WH is working everywhere but here and when we do get all ready to start another part of the project someone moves the goal posts and we have to stop, regroup and take a different course of action. Mostly so far it's all been caused by the weather, the major blight over the whole episode so far. Just a few days of waking up here convinced us that our plan to forget installing the central heating boiler until late September/ early October would have to be scrapped. We need it now, temperatures in the kitchen are regularly less than 12 degrees C in the early morning. We also discovered that a lot of the plaster had still not dried out even though some of it was done late last winter. This has made the whole house feel damp and caused us to leave a couple of oil radiators on all night every night, a strategy which is finally paying off. The house of course had not been lived in for almost 3 years and had no regular heating for even longer so I suppose with all the wet weather we have had in this period it was bound to be feeling slightly chilly.

Tomorrow a major progress will be made, the hall and stairs are being plastered along with levelling the kitchen floor allowing us then to decorate within the next month. After that we can get the rest of the carpets down which will be wonderful as we can reclaim the space in the living room where they are currently being stored. They were supposed to have been kept at the shop until we needed them but the fitter had other ideas, it saved him a journey and about 20 minutes of his time, never mind the poor customers who will have been walking round them for 2 months!

Once this part is finished we will have a large part of the house completed and hopefully a reduction in the dust which I spend hours daily attacking. I have employed a student to do some digging in the garden and help get the foundations done for the patio but so far all he has done is go off to jobs with WH as it has been far to wet here to dig anything.

A little light went out today

2008-08-14T21:40:00.003Z

Goggins

01.08.1991 - 14.08.2008

For his entire life he battled infections, cat flu and lung damage, today he lost his fight. He fought with all the local cats for no apparent reason, guarded anything he took a fancy to, drains, ladders, a space on the floor, a cardboard box he had for 6 years, his special chair and loved his playmate Twilight so much that he never really recovered from her sudden death 8 years ago. This photo was him in May after his last bout of pneumonia. Last week it came back with a vengeance. He was a cat with a real attitude problem who loved the brine out of the tuna tin, freshly cooked bacon and worshipped the ground Worst Half walked on. No longer will they have manly cuddles on the sofa and fall asleep together watching Bruce Willis. When I returned from a six week visit to New York he flew round he room he was so, so happy to see me. The little green chair he fiercely defended sits empty, the drain covers under the trees no longer diligently cleared of spiders and the greys no longer have anyone to smack them down and give them a swift bite when they misbehave.

We are now a 2 cat family for the first time in 17 years and oh boy it hurts like hell.

The start of a love affair

2008-08-11T06:36:00.009Z

Coming to the end of yet another horrid, wet, English summer which in my book is the second which has beenmruined by all the problems we have had with this house move, I have to face that it's highly unlikely that I will be going to Greece again this year. The downturn in the building trade here means that WH has to work while he still has work and so has been unable to finish our new place. Having given up over 5 months last winter to the build, which with hindsight was a total waste of time given the vagaries of the weather (again) and his fellow workers who let us down in droves, his customers won't wait any longer. I don't mind this, after all he is earning when other local builders are not. What I do mind is having had no real taste of warm weather other then during Grandad's Holiday in late May. I am also missing Greece itself and our usual leisurely stays in the back of beyond places we both love.

My love affair with Greece began as a teenager. My required O' Level English reading, along with a million other kids, was My Family and Other Animals, Gerald Durrell's account of his family's sojourn in Corfu in the 1920's. I was instantly drawn to this strange sounding country where interesting wildlife abounded, the people were strange, views were magical and you were never more than a few miles from the sea. The descriptions of exotic plants which my father had planted in our garden and which we fussed over to keep alive in the English Midlands but which grew wild in Corfu fascinated me. In those days I didn't like the heat so wasn't really bothered on that score. I read and re-read that book a hundred times in my late teens and twenties.

It was not until I took up with WH that I actually got to go there. In 1994, the girls were whisked off by their mother to Ibiza for a fortnight giving only 2 hours notice to WH. He freaked as he had done the previous year when a similar thing had happened and so, like the previous year when he was advised by his GP, we decided to go away ourselves. His house would not seem so empty if we ourselves were not there either. In those days, pre-internet (for us anyway), we abandoned looking for cheap deals on Teletext and called the agent direct. We stood in WH's porch listening to the phone between us, WH did the talking. By then of course, I was sick and not able to walk far, the first holiday he was offered was in Paxos, a villa in the Olive groves up a steep hill. He declined. Further unsuitable offers were also turned down. Finally he was agreeing to one, from Birmingham later that week. By then I had tired of standing and was sitting on the bottom of the stairs unable to hear the 'other end'. Having given all his credit card details the call abruptly came to an end. WH was not over impressed but it was a holiday after all and a cheap one at that. "I don't know what the accommodation will be but they assure me it will be on the flat. Allocation on arrival or some such name, they tell you all the details when you land. Oh it's Corfu, don't know what that will be like". My heart leapt, I was finally going.

We went in late May in a heatwave. Our accommodation proved to be a 2 bedroom apartment in a block of 6 overlooking a meadow of wild flowers just off the centre of Roda. We also had a full sized kitchen, two bathrooms and a shower with a curtain, unheard of in those days. It was on the ground floor, had a terrace giving onto the field and which was planted with bright flowers amongst which lived a whole army of little lizards. In two minutes you could be on the beach; round the corner, down the main street of the old village, past the church, on past the old ladies sitting in a row of hard chairs along their house walls, past the kafenion with it's whiff of ouzo, strong coffee and cigarette smoke and the old men arguing outside and walk through a gap between two cafes, the sparkling water visible through the little alleyway. I loved it. We had a bakery on 'our' corner and we went every morning for bread and pastries, sugary, vanilla-ey and cinnamonney scents teasing our taste buds. In those days a loaf was 270 drachma, about 54 pence, a yardstick I still measure the prices with today, only now the currency is the Euro (Evro) and bread is more than 60 cents (lepta).

We didn't do much on that first trip, we were too much in awe of the place and money was tight. We did hire a car for a couple of days and WH began to hone his skills as a Greek driver. 14 years later he slots in effortlessly. We drove around and everywhere we went Cistus sunroses abounded along with fields of myriad wild flowers. Little churches sat on hillsides, old cottages with tumbledown roofs had yards full of geraniums planted in blue painted feta tins, old ladies in black followed herds of goats for miles on the roads in the hills, men carried bundles of sticks whilst riding side-saddle on dusty, sad looking donkeys, chickens flapped out of hedges. Taking a picture in Sinies village one mid morning the whole school of 14 children fell out in to the street and posed for camera unbidden, along with a tiny sandy puppy clutched by a waif like 6 year old with dark eyes and a coy smile, "Hello" they chanted, "English? Thank you" as if by rote. One of the most brilliant sights was on the road along the the sea front in Roda itself, a piece of waste ground next to a moped rental lot. There were a couple of scrubby trees and chickens pecked amongst the dirt and greenery underneath them, taking to the branches in the heat of the day. One day the place was transformed, the greenery had flowered to become a vibrant square of brilliant red poppies.

That was the week which really kindled the fire. We have returned to Corfu 6 times since together and WH even took the girls on an 18 to 30's holiday in Kavos on another occasion, just Dad and 3 teenage girls. Together we have always stayed in the north and love the quieter more laid back spots. We've also been all over Greece since some years going 3 times. We want to live there eventually but sadly probably not in Corfu. We love the quieter, totally Greek places now and somewhere sleepy on the mainland beckons, maybe somewhere in Pelion although that is getting quite touristy now, maybe on the Amvrakikos gulf, Amphilochia perhaps, where we once had a wonderful Sunday lunch and not a Brit in sight (or sound), maybe near Volos airport at Nea Anchialos, the centre of a growing wine region. Wherever we end up it will always be that first holiday to Corfu we will remember the most, the week that sowed the seeds of a dream.

Studying the natives

2008-08-09T08:41:00.008Z

I have lived in this house all of 28 days. A few things have been achieved but I still have a rudimentary bathroom and a very basic kitchen, cooker, sink, dishwasher and 2 shelves. We are getting stuff done though, I have repaired almost single handedly a hole in the floor, put up shelves, cut down trees and cooked basic meals. WH has rewired, plumbed in, put up ceilings and generally fixed. Our neighbours find us fascinating with our pot garden, temporary parking space on the front lawn, garage full of tools and missing side gate and fencing. Not however as fascinating as we find them.

We only moved about 400 metres but this neighbourhood (should I say road?) is just soooo different. For a start we have more neighbours, there are 4 more houses and the residents are generally younger, have more kids and and all have driveways in front of the garages attached to their houses. My last abode was one of only 3 which had a front driveway, in my case attached to someone else's house but at the front all the same. Here because we all have front drives much more family life is evident to the casual observer. They also have far more vehicles here, all except 2 have at least 2 cars per house, a couple of houses have 4 cars. This raises the question where on earth do they park them? Mostly in the road, in the turning spaces and on the pavement. The whole place looks like a used car lot. And there's always someone polishing one, or mending one, or cleaning one or just plain admiring one.

EH?? Yes this last one, in fact all the afore-mentioned car-related activities along with a whole heap more are carried out by one of my more immediate neighbours on a daily basis. WHAT??????

I think this guy is a teacher. He's definitely a sad case. Married with one child, he's really in love with his car. He changes his car with extreme regularity we are told although we've only seen 2 in the 12 months we have owned this place. He has a day-van too but that's a whole other story. This guy, a sad, boring, extremely rude (well the way he talks to his wife is, he doesn't seem to speak to any other adult, EVER) cleans his car, hoovers it out, removes the seats and wheels to clean them of any hidden, lurking specks he missed the first time then polishes the whole thing with an electric polisher gadget until he can see his face in it. Every other day. Now the school holidays are in full swing he can spend all day every day doing it, not just the evenings. It's rained a part of most days except for about 4 in the last 28, and he still cleans his car. The polishing and shining are relentless. He must have something wrong with him surely. He appears to have no life away from his car, spending upwards of 6 hours a day on his driveway.

When he got this latest one, brand new about 5 weeks ago, he was still sitting in it at 11.30pm admiring it on the day it arrived. I know, I saw him as I left from a curtain hanging marathon and frightened myself to death as he had all the lights off and as I pulled off this drive I saw something move in his car in my headlights.

All the time this cleaning is going on his 3 year old child is told to stay indoors and behave. His dog is tied up lest it interrupts. He appears to be the main child-carer in the holidays, his wife going to work in the day-van early each day. I heard them arguing at 7 am one morning out in the street, and he told her categorically that she is NOT ALLOWED to drive his car YET, she changed gear too roughly and frightened him, let alone the damage she had done to his beloved gearbox.

Reading this you probably wonder if this guy is for real. Well yes he is and living in my road and teaching some hapless kids at a local school. God help his class. He's a real nutter but he's so, so interesting to observe, a psychiatrist would have a field day.

Ah, now I have a plan to fund my longed-for designer kitchen. Any psychiatrists out there want Bed and Breakfast and the opportunity of some fine behavioural studies? I'm taking bookings now!

Summer, what summer?

2008-08-03T22:39:00.004Z

We went to a barbecue this afternoon. We sat under a gazebo in a back garden in coats, hats, long trousers and fleeces. Great food, drink and company but Oh, what about the weather?

It rained for 3 hours non stop including some extremely heavy downpours. By 7pm we were all frozen and so the party split. I came home and got straight in the shower and there I stayed for 30 minutes until I was warm again. If we had a bath just now I would have had a bath. I'm now dressed in thermal socks and a very large winter fleece top over my regular clothes.

I am reliably informed that the hottest temperatures of the year usually occur in this first week of August. Well where the flippin' heck are they? Our winter is long enough without it starting already.

What a difference a week makes

2008-07-24T20:31:00.006Z

The weather is warmer, possibly heatwave stuff here, meaning I can almost be too hot when I have so much to do. Not a thing I'm used to saying.

Anyway, I now have a sink and some worktops. The main kitchen is still a work in progress but I can cook a reasonable meal now and it even looks half like a kitchen! I've also ordered a dishwasher as my hands have lost the battle between me and the all invading plaster dust, gloves don't help as it's everywhere, not just when you get wet, so after half a century on this planet, I get to enjoy what other people take for granted: my own dishwasher. I can't wait until Tuesday when it comes.

The rest of the house looks almost respectable except for the bathrooms. One is currently a store room and the other a disabled shower room but it's usable and with my super homemade temporary net curtains (amazing what you can do with 4 nails, a stapler and a length of net) and a few hooks screwed into odd holes in the wall it's quite functional too.

The depressed painter rang to see what progress had been made in the hall and was told not a lot. "Oh, still waiting for the plasterer are we?" Well no, actually we didn't even get that far, we still have no hall ceiling and WH is being somewhat tardy getting it put up. Maybe it was something to do with the garage fire door, he started that on Sunday night, abandoned it having lost his temper because the brickwork wasn't true and hasn't looked at it since, feeling an urgent need to do jobs for everyone else every evening so far this week. So no change there then.

The other bit of good news is that I finally have a tenant. The old house has been spring cleaned, the kitchen and one bedroom re-painted, new blinds and lights fitted, smoke detectors purchased and the garden manicured to perfection. Result 4 viewings in 3 days and one successful applicant. They move in next month and my bank account will be looking slightly healthier.

Tonight I can't move, 3 long evenings this week of gardening in the wilderness we call the back garden has given me aches in places I didn't know I had. We can see the whole garden now and the cats love it. I have a huge pile of cut down shrubs and stuff and it's been so hot it might be dry enough to burn over the weekend, otherwise I'll have to load it into the jalopy and take it to the local tip. Hand-weeding most of the original borders has unearthed some gems, seedling broom bushes, 2 Rosa glauca bushes, an Acanthus, which one I don't know, and a load of other stuff. Next week I can start making some flower beds.

As the painter said when he surveyed a large hole I had dug in the kitchen floor where an old pillar had to be removed, insulated and cemented over, "You couldn't have done this twelve months ago." No I couldn't, but now it seems the more I do the more I can. Great isn't it?

Normal service may be resumed.....

2008-07-19T06:28:00.003Z

next week sometime.

After an exhausting telephone marathon yesterday with my ISP and BT I think maybe I got some answers. BT especially were a hard nut to crack, particularly, and I don't want to sound racist here, as the call person was from the Indian sub-continent and I could barely understand a word she said. She wasn't able to understand me either and eventually got quite irate when I asked to speak to the engineers or whatever that service is called these days. After a protracted discussion about why I couldn't speak with 'the ingenious man' I suddenly realised that it was actually the engineers I was not able to speak to. I DID understand that BT were not able to help and were not even able to provide someone I could talk to who understood exactly what the problem was, due not to a difficult technical problem but more a question of semantics and pronunciation.

Having friends from several ethnic backgrounds and normally considering myself as pretty tolerant I begin to get rather annoyed when a previous corner stone of our society is being run from another country entirely. I spent 17 minutes on the phone when in fact the call should have taken no longer than 5.

That settled I then tried the ISP, their centre I think is in Dublin and certainly all the, again protracted, automated system messages are in a heavy Irish accent. I finally pressed my 8th choice of options and was connected to an African with a very heavy accent. He was kind polite and helpful was easier to talk to than the uptight Asian I had earlier. Whether or not his information was correct remains to be seen, either way it wouldn't be his fault.

In Brief

2008-07-15T17:57:00.003Z

The move went OK. The phone line was moved but not the broadband and we won't have it for at least another 3 weeks. Dial up is like wading through treacle, very slow and a right pain so my time here will be very limited and mostly confined to reading.

Steg, I'm following in your footsteps!

All packed up and ready to go

2008-07-08T21:52:00.007Z

Well not quite but getting there. It's amazing how much stuff I have accumulated over the last 23 years. Considering I was half packed last October, this week I have moved an incredible amount of boxes, most of it single handed ad therefore rather slowly. WH of course has most pressing work elsewhere even to the point of doing a favour for someone last night and working until 10pm. This did not go down too well with me as you might guess. With no kitchen, not even a temporary one as yet, and no proper bathroom, we have a lot to do before Friday.

At least the office is all set up and reasonably shipshape. All I have to do is move the pc and connect to the internet when the phone line is switched on Friday. It sounds simple but I bet it won't be. Meanwhile I have a couple of new bookcases to assemble and a tv stand. Of course you can do them I was told, you did the last lot. OK, OK but that was 26 years ago.

So tomorow my lovely helper Ms T is coming again for some serious kitchen packing and the we get to move it all down the road and annoy the depressed painter whilst we unpack it all again in the new place. Getting it all to fit will be no mean feat as only half the place is habitable as yet. The rest as they say is still a work is progress.

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and guess what?

2008-07-06T16:41:00.003Z

Don Wayne Reno signed it. Just for me.

Watch him here at Holmfirth the following night. Just as well we didn't get to see Dale Reno in his undies at Mansfield on Saturday, might have made me blush!

Reality check - pinch me if I'm dreaming

2008-07-02T06:57:00.002Z

We finally cleared the new house of tools and rubbish last night prior to the carpet fitter arriving this morning. We now have painted bedrooms, all the light fittings and curtain rails. I am just about to load my car with all the stuff I need to clean windows, wipe down doors and paintwork and hang curtains. After 16 months it barely seems real. My stallwort friend and lifesaver T is arriving later to help. What I would have done this last twelve months without her support I do not know. OK she started as the 'hired help' but as in all the best stories she's now a part of the family and a great friend to boot.

My other 'dream' scenario is my energy level. Over the weekend I moved a lot of bricks and some builders sand which I was sick of seeing. Since then I have cleaned as though my life depended on it. I keep waiting for the crash and it doesn't come. Even 6 months ago I could not have done all this, so now I am testing myself daily to see how much more I can do. The results are amazing not just me but everyone around. For this I have to thank my Lovely Lyme Doc and his faith in my treatment.

And just to put the icing on the cake of this upbeat post, the nightingale has arrived and is singing not 20 metres from my window. What a joy.

It's the final countdown

2008-06-30T10:45:00.005Z

Just 12 days to go until the big move. I'll be going from a place of undeniable comfort to somewhere with no kitchen and a temporary bathroom. That's the least of my worries. I'm now wondering how WH and his gang are going to fare moving us in my absence, I have a long standing engagement elsewhere and will be awol on the big day. I'm sure they'll be fine and get a great job done, whether I can ever find anything again remains to be seen.

Psychiatrists play God - Again.

2008-06-28T06:10:00.009Z

Cartoon unashamedly pinched from Dr Speedy's Nice Blog

NHS Blogdoctor is on the case again, this time railing against the influence Psychiatrists have on the NHS in a post with a wider theme, that of the Rise of the Healthcare Professionals.

This quote from the Times yesterday (26.06.08) particularly took my eye:

People suffering from mental illness are frequently being misdiagnosed or receiving inadequate treatment, according to a group of leading psychiatrists. The doctors say that patients with serious problems are often referred to psychologists and social workers rather than clinicians and do not receive the medical therapies they need.

“If a GP suspected a patient had cancer, he wouldn't dream of referring him to anybody other than a cancer specialist. A cancer patient might need jollying along, but what he really needs is the correct diagnosis and treatment. That's what he gets from a specialist. But patients with mental illness are not automatically referred to psychiatrists. If they only see a social worker, there's every chance that mental illness, or underlying physical illness, will be missed. Patients are getting a bum deal.” (Professor Nick Craddock)

Now substitute the words 'mental illness' with ME. See what I mean? Looks like now the psychiatrists are too busy treating people with ME, which of course as we all know is 'all in the mind', to be bothered to treat their own patients.

Education in the kindergarten

2008-06-27T07:32:00.006Z

My back garden has been renamed the nursery right now. Baby birds of all descriptions are vying for position on the feeders, teetering on the edge of branches and pestering their poor parents to death. At first it was the blue tits which caught our attention, six babies and their two extremely harassed parents, flew wobblingly from washing line to willow tree in turns. There were lots of crash landings and several false starts. Goggins lying in the sun on his favourite chair looked up, puzzled. He seemed to be saying 'Did I chase those once? Should I remember what they are? Are they something I should be interested in? Never mind I'll just go back to sunbathing.' The babies didn't know about cats anyway and just ignored him too. Even I stood less than 3 feet away and they just looked at me as though I was some sort of mobile perch.

Next up came the sparrows. Their training ground was fence to washing line, washing line to magnolia, magnolia to fence. 'Whoa there, maybe I'll try a suet feeder. Missed it, Oh OK I was really trying for the mock orange. Overshot that, OK, fence it is then." Their parents found a ready supply of kid-sized meals on the suet feeder and flew backwards and forwards from feeder to gaping mouth all day long.

The greenfinches were in hiding lest Misty and Nelson should find them. Apparently my wayward cats prefer the taste of greenfinch, or at least they did last year. So far this year there have been no catches at all, my tellings-off must have done some good. When temptation got the better of them, the greenfinches too brought the family to feast at the all night diner. More aggressive then the sparrows, they dislodged them and ruled supreme for a few hours until their arch rivals the starlings flew in.

Starlings, now that's another proposition entirely. Since they appeared, the garden resembles Saturday night at a rough wedding reception. They don't fight the other birds however, the stupid starlings fight amongst their own family. Drunk , or overstuffed with peanuts and suet, they squabble, taunt, push and shove. The noise is amazing, you'd think from the sound there were fifty out there, but no there are only 5 at the most. The parents try to bring them into line but their wayward children peck them instead. squawking and hissing and flying at each other. Then a fight between three of them breaks out and away they fly in winged combat, leaving the feeders in peace, just right for the little coal tits to fly in, grab a nut and retreat to the top of the willow before the angry starlings return.

In the midst of this mayhem, the goldfinches swing on the niger feeders and watch everything. No one else likes their food so they're happy. Well mannered and cheerful they ignore the rest of the rabble and twitter to each other companionably. Two little siskins too remain from the flock which arrived in late December, they must be breeding here but no sign of any babies yet.

It's been a real education this year, more babies than we have ever seen. It's hard to believe that 23 years ago no bird ever visited, there were no trees, no cover and certainly no free food. poignant then that this will be my last season in this garden. The new one awaits, barren and cheerless save for a lone robin who defends his territory from the apple tree. Time to make some changes then and ensure that next years babies are just as well fed.

To Let

2008-06-24T18:56:00.004Z

I just knew it was too good to be true. My much longed-for, stress relieving, poorly managed property let has fallen through. In fact I am now told it was a non starter at the outset. So why did it take the agent 4 days to tell me?

Answer being he is hopeless. What to do now, that's the question, leave it with the second, even worse agent or move the agency again? On the one hand it might be third time lucky. On the other it's all so much hassle.

After 23 years I am sick of sight of this house, the sooner I am out the better, at least round the corner I won't have to see it, even if it now remains empty for a while. At least I will be spared the awful cleaning up for viewings I have endured over the last 12 months of letting, selling, then letting again. So I'm still moving folks, but I'll still have the worry (and the bills) of this place.

Peaches, Pelion and English Pubs.

2008-06-23T15:00:00.007Z

Sinking my teeth into a juicy peach from my latest grocery delivery I noticed that they had come from Greece. This lead me to thinking about last year's holidays and driving round the peach orchards in the Koropi area of Pelion. The smell was fantastic although we wouldn't have been able to scrump any if we'd wanted to, all the trees being behind 2 metre high wire netting fencing. We did buy loads from road-side stalls however and peaches were the dessert of the day, every day, at our bolt-hole in Kalamos.

I'm missing Kalamos a lot. Even our recent trip to Corfu hasn't deadened the ache. It's probably all made worse by the fact we can't go back to that actual little villa, the owner needs it for his own growing family now they have fled the nest and will be using it for weekend visits in the same way as all the the other local houses are used.

We also both miss Argalasti, where we often found ourselves in the dying light of the day, sitting in the square with a hundred other families, lazily eating dinner or sipping the local sour cherry juice. It was noisy and boisterous. Whole families of locals sitting at adjoining tavernas, shouting at each other as only the Greeks know how. Just imparting a bit of local news has all the outward signs of an impending argument to English eyes. All the children played in the central part of the square watched over by parents of all descriptions. The younger ones ran round the tables and screamed, the older group played a kind of Greek 'What's the time Mr Wolf'' lead by two precocious 10 year old girls who both wanted to be in charge. Young teens hung around on the outside of the gathering, giggling in the shadows, the boys taunting the girls and tinkering with bicycle gears, the girls posing on the walls and looking coy. A short distance away the late teens sat outside the Gyros Pita takeaway, eating, laughing, smoking and listening to loud music, breaking rank occasionally to hail friends roaring past on mopeds. Everyone knew each other. News was imparted and confidences picked over, meals were shared and served out by the elders, children were called to eat and stuffed with fish and bread, only to run off again cramming their mouths with chips as they went. The men collectively sighed over football results and the local elections, old established positions reinforced. Diatribes on the state of the nation given by old men, ouzo glass in one hand, cigarette in the other as they shared plates of octopus, olives and hard cheese. All the time the kids ran round, one fell over and four mothers rose as one to comfort the injured party, two more speaking harshly to the unfortunate scamp who had pushed him.

We love it there, every night this place comes alive as the whole community comes together as one body to enjoy the warm evenings. Contrast this then with last night in our local pub here. A fine Sunday night in the only pub in the village. It was near empty, a sanitised version of 'Ye Olde English' with formica, Farrow and Ball and Madonna on the stereo. We chose from a menu which has not changed for at least 20 years other than the addition of pre-packed chicken curry. Our fellow inhabitants of the lounge were a family having a sort of mini reunion, some lived here, others had moved away. We did know them all but they preferred not to mix outside their own group, speaking in hushed tones lest we should hear what they had to say. They kept themselves to themselves and so did we, not wishing to be seen to be intruding. Across the counter a glimpse of the other room, the bar, usually inhabited by the youth of the area. Two chaps in their 30's sat baiting the usually terse landlord. Suddenly a loud voice from an unseen other, "When did Sunday night in the pub get to be so bloody quiet? And boring." There was no answer. We finished our meal and left, there was nothing to keep us there.

That's the sort of time I miss Greece the most and this year, especially, Kalamos and Argalasti. I've got to go back, permanently. Watch this space.

PS Blogger formatting seems to be playing up AGAIN. If this post looks odd it's them not me, honest.

On the move

2008-06-21T05:33:00.006Z

It's official, after 12 months of total insecurity, disillusionment with the housing situation and the inability to sell my house, I'm actually moving. In less than 3 weeks.

After having very poor service from my letting agent yesterday I called them up to give them the proverbial rocket. Just as I was about to fire them completely, they actually decided to ring the lady who had viewed last week and get some feedback. Wow, some feedback! She wanted it and had been unable to contact them. So I do have a tenant after all. Really she wanted to move in by July 1st. Given that is only 10 days away I postponed until 14th. So yesterday afternoon finds me buying carpets for a whole house, re-jigging schedules and chasing the depressed painter and the singing plasterer. WH press-ganged his usual support team for the move itself.

This weekend I am away at a show and in 2 weeks time we are both off on a jolly involving those Hayseed Boys, some relatives and meeting a close and much treasured friend in person. That gives me one weekend to pack the house and the other one to move. We have no kitchen and no bathroom at the new place so we'll be camping for a while.

One thing is certain, it's going to be busy round here.

Braindead

2008-06-16T14:32:00.002Z

I don't have the brain power right now for a lengthy post, suffice to say I am probably busier than I have been for the entire last twenty years. Last weekend I was at a marathon festival locally, it didn't rain and the weather was almost pleasant. It could have done with being a tad warmer but otherwise it was OK. Now I have the clearing up, a house which looks like a bomb site and WH's dreaded VAT to do. We *might* be actually moving house shortly too. Now there's a thing. More news on this later. Tomorrow we will have owned our second house a whole twelve months, it would be nice to live in it sometime.

All this and I am actually feeling reasonably well. Tired maybe but not that desperate bone crushing, nerve tingling, fiery pain I had for so long. I've been off my treatment for almost 3 months now and things are definitely looking up. I'm well on my way to a 3 stone weight loss too, necessitating some serious clothes shopping. My new hobby perhaps, but right now I just don't have the time.

If I could just slow down I might come to appreciate that feeling of doing stuff, wells loads of stuff really, and afterwards feeling, well, OK. It's taken me almost 16 years to achieve this and I want to savour every moment.

More snippets from last week

2008-06-12T08:05:00.006Z

"I'm singing you my butterfly sitting in the car song" - Grandaughter aged 4.

We found a dormouse living in an olive tree in the garden.

In a restaurant the waiter insisted in calling me Momma. Was it my size or my organisation skills which prompted that? Or maybe because I paid the bill, for 11.

Grandaughter managed to turn upside down in her inflatable in the pool. "I forgot my arm bands wasn't I silly?" Dad jumped in fully clothed and hauled her out whilst the assembled group breathed a huge sigh of relief. Daughter 3 remarked he had managed to preserve his cigarette which was still between his lips. "Well you try and relight that then".

Asking for a 'Greek' breakfast in San Stephanos we were offered 'Full English' full stop. What on earth is going on?

Two cats spent the night on a chair outside my window. They hung around for breakfast and shared a lizard. After that we never saw them again.

Collecting the hire cars we were given the keys in order of the driver's name. 4 days later we discovered we were all driving the wrong cars! Note to self: In future check the documents as well, even if they are in Greek.

One whole watermelon is just about big enough for 11 people for a whole week. The pips get everywhere though.

In 30 degree heat I can walk and walk and walk. And swim and swim and swim. Am I better than I was? You bet.

What I did on my holidays

2008-06-11T09:10:00.007Z

Went on a glass bottomed boat.

Watched the sun rise, twice.

Listened to scops owls.

Ate chicken souvlaki at a restaurant I hadn't been to for 8 years and it still tasted the same.

Swam at Sidari beach and it really is the warmest water in Greece.

Went lizard hunting with the Grandkids.

Watched a young jay drink from our pool.

Taught some of the Grandkids how to hold a crab.

Ate hot cheese dip and crackers.

Sat 2 hours in a restaurant waiting for a power cut to end. Dinner never tasted so good.

Watched my 3 stepdaughters giggling and laughing together like they hadn't for years and years.

Went to Mouse Island and Pontikonisi.

Sat on the Liston with a frappe and people watched.

Saw a Grandad with the biggest smile ever.

Fell asleep to the sound of waves on pebbles.

Snatches of conversations

2008-06-07T17:00:00.004Z

"Nanny, can I have a oghurt and semonade to drink?"

"All the little houses are getting bigger and bigger through this window"

"Is that a shark or a sardine?"

"I've turned some stones over there, I looked under some here as well, and do you know what Nanny? There aren't ANY pigging crabs"

" Ugh, it's all antsies and they're carrying their Magnix all over"....."Yes I know they look like eggs, I just said, they've got their Magnix"

"Well he can just put that big lobster down and show someone else, I don't want to see it."

"Of course I tried some new food, I had 4 sorts of hotdogs and funny bread, so that's five."

"Do you know, Denmark and Germany get all their electricity from windchimes."

"I'm so brave I'm going to jump in that stream and catch a turtle right now. Oh no I don't think I will, it's all slimy"

"I'm going to live here for ever, well if I can bring my own bed and a tv"

"Aunty, you can just get straight back in that pool and come out the proper way. BY THE STEPS, right."

The holiday is over, now the memories start.

Grandad's holiday

2008-05-29T06:50:00.007Z

Tomorrow we head for Corfu. All 11 of us. It has seemed like a military operation to organise this even more so at the last minute. I think I've got all bases covered but you never know.

WH has finally finished work and has started the wind-down, chill out phase. His grin is getting bigger and he can't wait to show the Grandkids all the things he loves about being abroad. So far it looks like our hunch paid off, it WILL be the best way to celebrate his milestone birthday. He doesn't like receiving presents, he doesn't do parties with their false gaiety and little awkwardnesses, he has no need of the usual trappings of Grandfather status, over-priced trinkets, mementos and and men's gifts. He's a giver not a receiver. A shared experience is what he would have chosen for himself.

To mark this special trip Middle Daughter and I spent a whole day designing and printing t-shirts for the whole party. A bit silly possibly, but we wanted the 4 smallest ones to have a tangible reminder of this week. The daughters themselves went to Florida when they were similar ages and all 3 still have all their keepsakes, aged Disney t-shirts and childish 'souvenirs'. They can still tell you what they did from day to day on that long 6 week adventure, about the crabs that ran over their feet in the dark, the beach picnics, the English restaurant with Roast beef and having Strawberries for breakfast. Although I wasn't part of their lives then, that came just a year later, I feel like I was there. I've seen the videos, the photographs and been proudly shown all the treasures, again and again and again.

Hopefully this next 7 days will make some new memories to treasure and some which the next generation will remember with such excitement. So if you're off to Corfu this next week and you see a shortish chap wearing zany outfits and a huge grin with 4 little kids hanging on his every word, you'll know, Grandad is finally on his 'special' holiday.

A trio of birds and some badgers.

2008-05-27T22:29:00.005Z

It's getting really wild around here and I don't just mean the weather. Last night I saw the local badgers nosing round my car again. I had heard from a neighbour that they were back again, her pampas grass had disappeared overnight and was trailed across her garden and round past the shed to hole in the stream bank 10m away. I haven't seen them for about 18 months but obviously that set is still in use. I'll have to try and get up about 2am again tonight to watch them although I was going to get some sugar puffs to put out for them but I forgot. I'm hoping the sugar puffs might lure them slightly more into the light away from the garage wall so they can be seen more easily.

Another oddity is that after going nightingale watching several evenings recently, the last time with the grandkids in tow as well, we now have a resident one at the bottom of our road camped out in a huge fir tree. I have lived here for 23 years and the birds here generally have vastly increased in numbers but I have never heard a nightingale here at home until now. Middle daughter and I spotted him on Sunday through the binoculars although he has been around since last Thursday. All that fuss to drive a couple of miles to go and listen to one and I can lie in bed at 5am and hear one plain as anything.

We have a strange jackdaw too. These have been increasing year on year and last year we had one with a distinctly craoky off-key voice. He seems to have returned again, or maybe he was silent all winter, so now we get this strange almost honking noise from about 7am. I know it IS a jackdaw as I have watched him through the bins too.

The third 'new' bird are flycatchers who sit on the telephone wires at the back of the house and then do a lovely tumbling display catching their next meal. They appear to be nesting in the eaves of a house in that direction and though I have looked for the fledglings I haven't seen any yet.

Either this spring is distinctly odd or else this village has suddenly become a magnet for a great influx of wild life.

Eurovision

2008-05-25T11:19:00.007Z

WH missed his favourite TV programme of the whole year last night whilst were dining with friends locally. On our (slightly tipsy) return we had to look at the Eurovision Song Contest website and see who had won and listen to the top 3 songs. Today he's going to download it from BBCi and watch the whole thing. Personally I preferred the song which came second, the Ukranian entry and thought that should have won, but no doubt I will be regaled with WH's judgement later in the day.

I have long learned to live with his slightly odd-ball (well in the UK, the rest of Europe LOVES it) obsession with this annual bunfight which was brought to a head the year we watched it in a beach taverna in Lefkada. Greece won that year and the whole island went crazy with firecrackers and guns going off, free drinks and a general riot of celebration. The highlight of WH's viewing is however the commentary by an increasingly inebriated and out spoken Mr Wogan. Now Sir Terry has suggested that he might not be covering it again as he dislikes what he sees as the political slant to the voting.

Life will never be the same again.

Two week rule part 2

2008-05-24T08:59:00.009Z

WH got his appointment through yesterday for his urgent test. 24th June. You will recall his GP referred him under the Two Week Rule as his symptoms were consistent with a possible cancer. This will be 45 days since he presented with those symptoms.

This is the NHS's own statement on the subject, taken from their document 'Choose and book: implementation guidance for urgent referrals for suspected cancer two week waits'

2.1 The two week wait standard
The two week wait (2WW) standard for all
cancers was introduced in 2000 and guarantees
that everyone with suspected cancer referred
urgently by their GP will be able to see a
specialist within two weeks. It is an important
milestone to achieving the 62-day target from
urgent referral for suspected cancer to first
definitive treatment, set in the NHS Cancer Plan.
Compliance with the 2WW standard has been
achieved for some time, and Trusts are now
focusing on consistent delivery of the 62-day
standard.
(my italics)

Oh no, not in this area seemingly. The NHS has done us proud once again. WH now has to wait another 4 weeks until he has this test, with all the attendant problems, worry, lack of efficient pain medication, lack of sleep etc etc. Once again the patient is the last consideration.

I don't think Alan Johnson would be looking so smug if that were him.

Two week rule, don't make me laugh, I'm already crying

2008-05-20T15:55:00.006Z

The NHS apparently has a two week rule that means that if you present to your GP with some new, serious, possibly cancer-related symptom, you get tested and see an 'expert' within 2 weeks. 3 weeks ago WH did just that. Although the GP thought there was a slight chance of it being related to medications he is taking, nevertheless he was referred immediately for an endoscopy to have his gut checked out and stopped from taking any of his regular medication.

Seeing another doctor in the practice last week about another maybe-related-symtom and being in excrucuiating pain with the lack of pain relief, this guy also expressed surprise that the endoscopy had not been carried out. He promised to chase it urgently. On Monday two phone calls from different practice nurses had WH rushing to the surgery for a consult about yet another new medication. Again the GP was astonished that the endoscopy had still not been carried out and said she would chase it immediately. Now 3 days later WH still hasn't heard anything, and still can't take any arthritis medication which is leaving him is severe pain and unable to sleep at night.

I know the NHS is strapped for cash and I know that many doctors are unconvinced that this system is any good but does anyone consider the poor old patient? We go on holiday in 8 days, a holiday planned specifically for WH's enjoyment. WH has been told he has a potentially serious condition and needs an urgent test. He hasn't had the urgent test, can't take his usual meds so is feeling 10 times worse than usual and there is no apparent end in sight. The prospect of a holiday with 10 other people whilst feeling in this state is not appealing to him, never mind the worry of 'What ifs'.

Once again the NHS has caused this family no end of grief and is threatening to ruin our holiday of a lifetime.

Counting down, fingers crossed. No Problem!

2008-05-17T06:56:00.006Z

Just two weeks to the big day when all 11 of us fly these shores for the sunnier climes of Corfu. So far it's been quiet of late no major panics yet. WH and I are getting ourselves sorted early as there are sure to be some major hitches to come. I say this advisedly and with a foresight coloured by past experience.

This is the family who lost passports 15 hours before travelling, 17th May 1999 is forever imprinted on my mind as we queued outside the passport office at 6am in order to make a flight at noon. I admit I lied when I called up the airline and said I would be late checking in due to 'car trouble', in reality we were hurtling at breakneck speed down the M4, shiny new passports in hand. We finally joined the back of the check-in queue to the accompaniment of an announcement of a 4 hour flight delay, panic over.

On another occasion, WH and 3 kids fetched up at a campsite in Cornwall at 11pm only to find they had left all the tent poles behind, they arrived home at 3am and had left again by 9 arguing all the while about whose fault it was.

Youngest daughter on her first trip abroad solo, ie without family but unfortunately with the current boyfriend, went to a rave in Spain. She then had her handbag with all her valuables stolen on the first day, money, passport, phone, camera. WH managed to wire money out to her and enabled her to take her pre-booked bus home, however other rowdies on said bus caused all the Brits to be ejected at Dover and we had to retrieve her from there. Our phone bill was colossal that month, in inverse proportion to our bank account.

Middle daughter emigrated to New Zealand. Her new Kiwi husband turned character the day they left and she spent 3 years trying to keep afloat and working all the hours she could whilst he spent every penny, didn't work and generally got into trouble. Finally she snapped and phoned WH to ask for money for flights home. "I'll see how much they are," he said. ""Oh I know already" said she, "I've already booked, you just have to pay".

Eldest daughter and husband also went to Spain for their first holiday as a couple. They didn't go anywhere much and were bored and didn't like the food. They must have had some good times as Number 1 grandson was the result.

So now we're off with the next generation too, one is frightened of flying, one is frightened of nothing, half of the party don't like foreign food, only two of us have ever driven on the 'wrong' side of the road, and two are so frightened of getting lost they're going to stay on the beach all week. Sounds like we're going to have fun.

Concerto for nightingale and blackbird

2008-05-16T06:33:00.006Z

WH finally picked up his new hearing aids earlier this week. The difference to him is immense. He can't believe just how many little things he can now hear again. Perhaps a rowdy children's party was not quite the best place to wear them for the first time but he didn't need to remove them or turn the volume down and no-one noticed he was wearing them until pointed out to them. All in all they seem to be a success.

Later that same evening we went to look at a small parcel of land which is for sale locally. Mostly mixed woodland, there are some redundant buildings and a pasture which floods in winter, a haven for local wildlife. We soon realised that buying this would not be the dream we had thought it might be, noise from the motorway some 7 miles distant seemed to funnel up the valley and broke through the silence. A minor road above the fields also echoed loudly and WH with his newly acquired hearing deemed it far too noisy.

Nevertheless we walked the pathways and and enjoyed the warm evening listening to the numerous local birds, joined by a brace of pheasants who were roosting in some rhododendron bushes. As dusk fell another tune began. Two nightingales in adjacent trees struck up a conversation and sang their sweet song in the falling light. We stayed the best part of an hour listening to them until we were forced to leave, driven by the falling light and the need to negotiate some rough ground in poor light.

It had been a magical hour, the stillness, the unspoilt ground and the amazing song of the unseen birds. WH told me that he had not heard sounds like that for the best part of 20 years. I was stunned and momentarily felt empty as the realisation of all that he had had missed hit me like a thunderbolt. At least with his new aids he can begin to make up for that loss. Then as if to celebrate two blackbirds joined in and the road noise was obliterated as we left the site to a finale played by a quartet of the loudest birds even I had ever heard.

Listen here for the sound of the nightingale. Click the forward arrow above the waveform to play.

Feels like summer

2008-05-12T08:05:00.004Z

Yesterday we went to the Marie Curie Garden Fair at Kentisbeare house. What a fabulous day we had. The weather was perfect, cloudless skies, hot sun and a just a little light breeze. Over 50 stalls had set up selling mostly plants and garden related things but a lovely food tent as well. As usual the Wallaces' burgers were to die for. Die, I probably will too when I step on the scales later today having eaten 2 burgers with onion relish for lunch and then having pizza for tea, it being too hot and me being too tired to think of anything else to fill up a very hungry WH.

I bought loads of plants for the new garden and found a lovely little nursey not far from here which I will be visiting later in the week. The patio at the new house is so hot I intend to do lots of pots of salvias which I have hitherto had little success with in the present NE facing garden.

One I bought yesterday was Salvia patens which must be my most favourite colour ever and the colour of a perfect Mediterannean sky. I'm hoping that it will echo the skies to come here too.

A little taste of summer

2008-05-10T08:09:00.004Z

Last night I made Kolokithakia or Little Courgettes (zuchini). I did a meze for dinner with a mostly Greek/Middle eastern theme and tried to cook these for the first time. I have to report they were every bit as good as those we've had many times in Greece over the years. I served everything at once in true Greek style and we all dug in to Baked trout, Briam (vegetable stew), Couscous with herbs, peppers and onion, Greek salad, pita bread, Tzatziki and last but not least the Kolokithakia. Dessert was a platter of Charentais melon, Cheddar strawberries, pineapple and kiwi fruit, and very lovely it looked too.

At the farmers market the previous day I had spotted some round thin-skinned cougettes more like the variety they seem to grow in Greece so snapped some up with just this recipe in mind. It's really easy to cook if just a little messy.

Kolokithakia

Courgettes sliced about 5mm thick
Flour well seasoned with salt and pepper
1 beaten egg
Olive oil for frying

Make sure the courgettes slices are dry.
Dip in beaten egg then in the flour.
Shake off excess flour and fry in olive oil for 2-3 mins turning half way through.
Fry in a single layer in small batches. The resulting slices should be light and crispy and golden brown.
Drain on kitchen paper and serve immediately with slices of lemon to squeeze over.

This is often serve as a starter or as part of a larger meal.

Headbanger

2008-05-09T16:58:00.004Z

Sitting here the other day up to my eyes in paperwork for the end of the financial year I heard a strange sound. A bit like a spring or maybe it was feint knocking sound. Whatever, I couldn't find the source of it until I went outside later on and I heard it more clearly. A quick check on the internet proved without a doubt. It was the sound of a Greater Spotted Woodpecker and he has obviously set up home in the oaks opposite my house. He started drumming this morning just after dawn and has continued intermittently all day. Some times he sounds closer still, perhaps moving trees.

I've wasted hours looking for him and still can't see him it's really infuriating. It's good to hear though. I hope he does manage to attract a mate and then we might get the sight of the whole family later in the season.

You can see and hear one here, although he's picked an odd choice of tree to drum.