Jay

 

Jay (Garrulus glandarius)

Jays are beautiful, colourful members of the crow family. Though they are widespread in UK woodlands, apart from Northern Scotland, they are quite shy and rarely visit gardens. We have been fortunate through the years to see them, usually in October, when they are foraging for food, particularly acorns. They cache their finds to provide food in leaner times, but do not always return for them, and that is how oak saplings can be found in unexpected places.

The rapid spread of oaks after the last Ice Age is attributed to this caching habit. Before oak trees were planted commercially, jays were the main means of distribution. A single bird might spread more than a thousand acorns annually.

The last Ice Age, known as the Last Glacial Period, began about 100,000 years ago.

In addition to acorns, jays eat insects, seeds and occasionally small mammals, nestlings, and eggs. They have unmusical voices but are clever mimics, copying the songs of other birds and common noises in the environment, like dripping taps, or people whistling.

Sir John Betjeman

 

Sir John Betjeman

 Statue of John Betjeman at St Pancras Station, London.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The Poet Laureate is appointed by the monarch of the United Kingdom, following advice from the current Prime Minister. It is expected, though not demanded, that the Poet Laureate will produce verse for important national occasions. For example, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, wrote ‘Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington’ in 1852, and ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ in 1854.

Royal events, like weddings or funerals, are often the subject of the poems. Poets will frequently be inspired or be commissioned to write about other things, like the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, or the deaths of the last two (British) First World War soldiers in 2009.

John Betjeman (1906-1984) was an English poet and writer and was the Poet Laureate for the final twelve years of his life. His poem ‘Slough,’ was published in 1937 and bemoaned what Betjeman saw as the industrialisation of Britain and the profiteering thereby.

Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn’t fit for humans now,
There isn’t grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!

Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air-conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town –
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

 And get that man with double chin
Who’ll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women’s tears:

And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.

But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;  
It’s not their fault that they are mad,
They’ve tasted Hell.

It’s not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It’s not their fault they often go
To Maidenhead

And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren’t look up and see the stars
But belch instead.

In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.

Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales.

Slough is a town in Berkshire and has had an undeservedly bad reputation. In the years following the end of the First World War, army motor vehicles returned from Flanders were repaired and stored and eventually an industrial estate was established. Industrialisation continued apace, attracting workers from abroad, as well as from various parts of the UK. It suffered many air raids in 1940, but after the end of World War Two, thousands of people moving out of war-torn London were accommodated in large, new housing estates.

Betjeman later regretted his harsh poem about Slough. At the time he wrote it, he probably had little idea that bombs would indeed fall on Slough.

He was a founding member of ‘The Victorian Society’ and ‘Friends of Friendless Churches.’ He loved Victorian architecture and was a leading figure in the campaign to save St Pancras railway station. A statue of him by the sculptor Martin Jennings was unveiled there in 2007.

It’s that time of year . . .

 

It’s that time of year . . .

. . . when spiders spin their silken webs and catch the morning dew.

With a slight fog on Friday morning, the webs were particularly noticeable on the trees in our back garden.

Destruction!

 

Destruction!

                                Pansy and Clown (blue and chocolate)

Warning! If you are averse to animals, do not read on.

Polly spoke about her Labrador breeding friends and the destruction the puppies wrought, and it reminded me of our brief foray into breeding Burmese cats.

It had never been our intention to breed cats. We had had an accidental breeding of Jack Russells, which was fun for the children, and also why we ended up with four of them – JRs, I mean, though we did have four children, too.

My sister and brother-in-law had a beautiful brown Burmese, called Tip, because he had a white tip to his tail. A few years after I left home – the baby of the family - they gave my parents a little queen who had come to the end of her breeding programme (!) Liza gave them a great deal of pleasure and much appreciated the freedom and love they gave her.

When we decided to acquire a cat, we remembered how affectionate and curious Burmese cats were, and found a local breeder, who had a pretty little brown queen, a few months old. They encouraged us to breed from her, and we thought it would be interesting for the children. That encouragement is not generally given these days, but this was many years ago.

The kittens were enchanting. From Alicat we had brown, chocolate, blue and lilac offspring. Each child and its friends had different favourites, so, naturally, we ended up with quite a few cats.

Pansy Blue as a kitten

People often claim to ‘know’ that cats and dogs are instinctive enemies and cannot live together, and take pleasure in promulgating the myth. We have found them to be allies and friends. The cats groom the dogs’ heads and faces and the dogs step between arguing cats to defuse the situation, as they would with warring dogs.

              Cariadd, (Dalmatian) with six Burmese, one brown, one blue, three chocolates and a lilac. They would climb on her for comfort if they started arguing.

We were extraordinarily lucky with the Jack Russells, known chasers – and killers – of fur. When we brought Alicat home, I sat down, and Daisy JR jumped up on my lap! We never had a problem with them, but I would not risk it again. It just didn’t occur to us to worry.

Puppies are fun, adventurous, and messy, but they don’t climb. Kittens clamber up everything in sight, including people. The view from the top of someone’s head, or the curtains, is exciting and different. If there are no people or furniture available to ascend, the wallpaper will do.

Inevitably, the time came, at three months of age, to bid the kittens farewell to their new homes. Interviewing prospective owners was never a job we relished, but we wanted to ensure our little creatures went to loving homes. Equally, I felt we had to be honest about what they were taking on. Burmese kittens do not lie around looking beautiful, although they can. They are adventurous and curious and can get themselves into unusual hiding places.

We once lost a litter temporarily. We had put them in our en suite shower room, where we were sure they would be safe and could not escape. When I went in to check on them and feed them, I couldn’t see them anywhere. Our shower room is not vast and the window was securely closed. Panic set in momentarily but something caused me to look more closely at the bidet and sure enough, the kittens were tucked safely under the pedestal. They soon emerged for their food, and we found a different room for them to grow up in.

As well as giving prospective owners directions to our house, a task at which I am still very poor, I would test their resolve by telling them what to expect. If they were experienced cat people, they would quickly understand. One man put it succinctly – ‘So, we look for the house with the wallpaper hanging off in shreds.’ I agreed that was the case and he came to collect his kitten anyway.

While kittens may not eat the carpet or the plaster on the walls, or chew the door frame, your shoes, or anything else that takes their fancy, as puppies will, they have sharp claws, like needles. They will tear at your soft furnishings, turn the stair carpet into a series of scratching posts, scale the heights of the kitchen cupboards, and pierce your heart with their unbelievably silky fur and huge, lustrous eyes. A warm purring cat on your lap or next to you as you lie on your bed is worth more than a king’s ransom.

If dog/s join the cat/s, you are more blessed than you could imagine.

We haven’t bred puppies, or kittens for many years. It is exhausting, being responsible for so many tiny beings. Guinea pigs, mice and gerbils are much easier, but once our children grew out of the farming phase, we ceased breeding altogether. Oh, that is, until our youngest child was born. She came during the cat breeding phase. We must have got muddled, somewhere! 

Herbert with Bethan

Herschel observes . . .

 

Herschel observes . . .

Herschel observes boats on the Kiel Canal

Herschel is the Hebrew name for deer. It is also a German name deriving from Heinrich, which means ‘home ruler.’

We gave Herschel his name because we live not far from Slough, where Sir William Herschel, an Anglo-German astronomer, died in 1822. He was the first person to discover a new planet while using a telescope. He wanted to call it Georgium Sidus, meaning George’s Star, or the Georgian Planet, to honour the reigning King George III.

However, the German astronomer Johann Elert Bode, proposed that it should be named after one of the classical deities, in the traditional manner. He suggested Uranus and this was ultimately accepted, almost seventy years later.

Sir John Herschel, William’s son, was born in Slough in 1792, and was a polymath. His interests encompassed mathematics, chemistry, astronomy, photography, and botany. He invented the blueprint and researched colour blindness, and named seven moons of Saturn and four moons of Uranus.

One of John’s sons, Sir William James Herschel, also born in Slough, was the first man to realise the importance of fingerprints in identification. Throughout his lifetime, he recorded his own fingerprints, to prove their unique and unchanging nature.

 

 

Have you got your ‘phone?

 

Have you got your ‘phone?

This looks like a rebuke!

I am getting better at remembering to take my ‘phone with me when I go out. I don’t always take it when I’m going out with Barry, as his is always with him, almost needing to be surgically removed from him. That is also the case with our children and all the grandchildren old enough to have ‘phones.

I know it’s sensible to have a means of contacting someone in case of emergency and it is just possible, though unlikely, that Barry’s ‘phone will not be fully charged.

So, I try to remember, not least because I get irritated by the question, ‘Have you got your ’phone?’ To me, it feels like being asked if I’ve got a clean hankie (does anyone use those these days?)

Differences

 

Differences

 

Arthur sleeps!

    There are many differences between working Labradors and Cocker Spaniels.

The most obvious difference is size. Labradors are bigger, between 25 and 38 kg. I’ve just discovered that working Labradors are known in the States as American or field-bred Labradors. British working Labradors are field-bred dogs from the UK and Ireland.

Working Cocker spaniels weigh 11 to 16 kg and are between 36 to 43 cm at the withers, which I have to remind myself is the highest point of the shoulder blades. Compare that to a Labrador standing 54 to 62 cm. at the same point.

Labradors are relaxed, steady dogs, though they do have their wild moments. Generally, well-exercised and well-fed dogs will settle down at your feet and snore sleep the hours away. Cockers are busy, fizzy little dogs. They are anxious to please and will greet their owners with enthusiasm and at least one toy in their mouths. Labradors are equally delighted to see their people and are keen to nose them and give them a good sniffing to discover where they’ve been and with whom.

When they’re outside, a cocker’s nose is never far from the ground if it’s not scenting the air. Labradors like to read the environment as well, but they’re not so keen to seek prey. That’s not their job. They are required to pick up, though they will sometimes spring birds or rabbits.

Both breeds love water and are drawn to it as to a magnet.

The biggest difference is in their approach to food. All Labradors – at least, all the many ones we’ve had, love food, and most of them live to eat, whereas cockers eat to live, from our limited experience of them.

When Arthur comes to play, we have to persuade him to eat, even when it’s obvious he’s hungry. Like a restless child, he is easily distracted from eating, whereas the Labradors plough straight through the food until there’s not a hint of a scent of anything left, and then look around with a half-starved expression, hoping to convince any passing human in the house that they really have not been fed for days.

Both breeds are great friends, like all dogs.

Jake

Dogs are wonderful companions, no matter what their provenance, and some of the best are rescue dogs looking for their forever homes. One of the loveliest dogs I ever knew was Jake, an absolute peach of a dog.

Of unknown breeding, he was delighted to be accepted and loved by my daughter and son-in-law. He was an amazingly loyal and loving dog to them and their children. When they acquired a Labrador puppy, and we went to see them, he would jump into the back of our car, hoping to come home with us. He liked the puppy but sometimes wanted a rest from her. All puppies are exhausting for a while and Jake enjoyed a quiet life. As the puppy grew up and calmed down, Jake became very fond of her.

There is always an unknown quality in rescue dogs. Unless they are very young puppies in a rescue centre, there is no knowing what has befallen them in their lives. It’s too easy to be led by the heart, rather than reason.

 Rescue societies do a grand job of assessing them and advising to the best of their ability whether a dog will settle with young children, or cats, or more than one or two people. The best rescue centres will interview prospective owners and will not release a dog unless and until they are satisfied that the dog is going to a good home and will not be returned in a few weeks when the novelty has worn off.

We don’t deserve dogs, really.                        

Starship 5

 

Starship Flight Test 5

                                        Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

On Sunday, we watched the launch of Starship 5 from SpaceX Starbase in Boca Chica in Texas. It was as spectacular as such things always are. The really impressive and innovative part of the test flight was the recovery of the Super Heavy rocket booster. It travelled back to the launch site and was captured by huge metal arms, called ‘chopsticks’ which prevented it from a hard landing. The objective is to use the Super Heavy rocket booster in future launches.

The spacecraft landed in the ocean and will not be recovered. Further tests will practise landing spacecraft on dry land.

Starship is destined to land US astronauts on the moon in 2026 in an ongoing bid to create a permanent settlement on the moon. This would then be the first stage in the development of further settlements in deep space. The USA and China are engaged in a race to become the first deep space settlement pioneers.

Protected again . . .

 

Protected again . .. 

We had our Covid and ‘flu jabs at midday, a stab in each arm, quick, efficient. We arrived early, went straight in and that was that, until the next time.

Then Barry trotted off for an ultrasound scan. He has had so many appointments recently but has a day off tomorrow, followed by an early start on Monday. He has to be at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. First on the surgeon’s list – a good place to be. A stay overnight and then home again on Tuesday, all being well.

He will not be able or allowed to lift or carry anything for a few weeks, which will be good for me, as I will get plenty of exercise doing the things he normally does. Can’t wait!

Clowns

 

Clowns

                                            Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Many people don’t like clowns. Some are actively scared by them.  A clown phobia is called coulrophobia and is more prevalent than some other fears, like arachnophobia or claustrophobia.

Traditionally, there are three major categories of clown to be seen in circuses, though some clowns, like Joseph Grimaldi, performed only on stage in pantomimes.

The whiteface clown is regarded as the superior clown, his face and neck completely masked in white greasepaint, ‘clown white’, the features painted on in red or black. He often wears a conical hat and a fitted, full sleeved costume with short trouser legs. The suit is usually colourful and elaborate and may be decorated with sequins. The clown in Pagliacci is a whiteface clown, the jocular exterior hiding the pain of his inner sorrow.

The Auguste or ‘red’ clown wears red or flesh-coloured makeup and outlines his eyes and mouth with white and paints other features in red or black. He wears baggy trousers in strident patterns and colours, oversized shoes, outrageous wigs and a bright red nose. He is ‘the fall guy’, the stooge to the whiteface clown. He is the one who receives a pie in the face or falls on his backside or has his clothes ripped off. He is the butt of every joke.

The third category is the character clown, who may support either of the other two clowns, depending on circumstances. He is cleverer than the Auguste clown but inferior to the whiteface clown. He is an eccentric version of any one of a number of standard characters, like a policeman, a housewife or a tramp. His make-up is flesh coloured and accessorised with such things as a false beard, big ears, huge glasses or an odd haircut.

Laurel and Hardy are examples of character clowns, though they relied on costume rather than make-up and bizarre accessories.

Marcel Marceau was not a circus performer and not traditionally a whiteface clown, though he adopted white make-up. He was a brilliant mime artist but also deserves to be remembered for his work in the French Résistance, saving at least seventy Jewish children from the Nazis.

I find circus clowns quite grotesque and not at all amusing, but am happy to watch Buster Keaton or the Marx Brothers, or any of the modern clowns.

Modern clowns include actors like Rowan Atkinson and Sacha Baron Cohen, though they may prefer to be known principally as actors, but then surely clowns are actors, too.

Grockles

 

Grockles

Jackdaw (Corvus monedula)

Grockle is a word originally used disparagingly to refer to tourists, in the Southwest of England – Devon and Cornwall, for example. Its usage spread to other parts of the country and even migrated to the former Northern Rhodesia, now known as Zambia, and Southern Rhodesia, which is now part of Zimbabwe. I don’t know if it’s still current in those countries. I doubt it!

I discovered that it has even been used by climbers to refer to people who visit mountains as sightseers rather than participants. In North Wales, the two easiest routes to the summit of Yr Wyddfa, which is more familiarly known as Mount Snowdon, are called Grockle Tracks.

On the Isle of Man, tourists in cars are called grockles. They are believed to be easily identifiable because all Manx numberplates have MN or MAN on them. When I tried to verify that, I found the following:

‘Not all cars on the Isle of Man have MN or MAN in their registration plates . . . . while MY and MAN are common, they aren’t the only options available.'

Isn’t it difficult to find reliable information on the internet? Sometimes, things are just contradictory! So, I checked on Grockle Tracks and discovered:

‘Grockle Tracks isn’t a specific term used for Snowdon’s paths . . . the easier tracks to the summit are often referred to as the Llanberis Path and the Snowdon Ranger Path. These are generally more accessible and popular with casual hikers and tourists.’

There’s nothing quite like facts to ruin a good yarn!

One definition of grockle suggests that it may derive from ‘grackle,’ an old name for the Jackdaw, whose Latin name is Graculus. When I checked that, I found it to be inaccurate. The jackdaw’s Latin name is Corvus monedula while ‘Graculus’ refers to the Yellow-billed Chough, ‘Pyrrhocoras graculus.’

Another suggestion is that the word came from a strip cartoon in ‘The Dandy.’ This Scottish children’s comic from 1937 featured a boy called Jimmy who had a pet that resembled a dragon and made the noise ‘grockle.’ Previously, in the 1920s, the grockle appeared in the comic ‘The Rover’ as Jimmy Johnson’s Grockle.’

One final explanation claims that holidaymakers in Torbay, Devon, were compared to little clowns. Grock, (1880-1959) was a Swiss music hall artist known as ‘the king of clowns.’ He used the piano and violin in his act and was one of the highest paid performers of the period in Europe.

 

Homunculus

 

Homunculus

Side view of sensory homunculus

                                        Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I thought homunuculus was just a name for a fictional tiny humanoid, but discovered there’s a little more to it. In medieval times it was believed that a homunculus could be created through alchemy, but from the late 18^th to the late 19^th century, scientists believed in preformationism.

This theory held that a perfectly formed miniature person existed in a sperm or an egg and simply developed into a full-sized human being.

Nicolaas Hartsoeker, (1656-1725) was a Dutch polymath who was interested in embryology. He invented the screw-barrel simple microscope in about 1694 and claimed to be the first person to study sperm cells under a microscope. It is said that he believed that a tiny person was present in a sperm cell, although he never claimed to have seen one.

   Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 He sketched his theory, which neatly explained how a human baby was conceived in a woman. Conception was ill understood! They knew the means but not the fine detail.

   Sensory homunculus

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The cortical homunculus is a visualisation to represent how much of the brain is dedicated to different body parts. The size of each body part indicates ‘the degree of sensory or motor control it requires.’ A homunculus is shown with a huge face and tongue, for example, because they have a greater range of fine motor movement and  a greater density of neurons. Legs and trunk are disproportionately small because they assume less space on the cortical map.

 

October Poem

 

October Poem

October is the treasurer of the year,

And all the months pay bounty to her store;

The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,

And fill her brimming coffers more and more.

But she, with youthful lavishness,

Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,

And decks herself in garments bold

Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.

She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,

But smiles and sings her happy life along;

She only sees above a shining sky;

She only hears the breezes’ voice in song.

Her garments trail the woodlands through,

And gather pearls of early dew

That sparkle, till the roguish Sun

Creeps up and seals them every one.

But what cares she that jewels should be lost,

When all of Nature’s bounteous wealth is hers?

Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,

Not one regret her calm demeanour stirs.

Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,

She lives her life out joyously,

Nor cares when Frost stalks o’er her way

And turns her auburn locks to gray.

Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)

Paul Laurence Dunbar was a prolific American writer and poet. He wrote in standard English, though during his lifetime his most popular work was that written in African-American English.

He died at the age of thirty-three, having contracted tuberculosis in 1900.

Conscious sedation

 

Conscious sedation

The local hospitals are playing catch-up, and some non-urgent procedures are being conducted at weekends. Thus, I received the following from Barry on Sunday afternoon.

‘I’m having conscious sedation and not general anaesthetic. Thing is, I’m not sure I’ll be able to see any difference between being normal and conscious sedation.’

There are many responses to that, most of them rude.

I thought I understood what was meant by ‘conscious sedation’ but looked it up anyway. The most concise explanation follows:  

‘Conscious sedation is a combination of medicines to help you relax (a sedative) and to block pain (an anaesthetic) during a medical or dental procedure. You will probably stay awake, but may not be able to speak.

Conscious sedation lets you recover quickly and return to your everyday activities soon after your procedure.’

The bit I highlighted in red made me smile. Barry is a talker and always has been. When he was three years old and travelling by sea to India with his mother and baby brother, he had to share a cabin with another mother and children. He chattered about everything, until the other mother said, in exasperation, ‘Can’t you keep your boy quiet?’

The answer, of course, was that she couldn’t, and he continued to jabber. The only time he was truly silenced was when he was ten years old, and his father died suddenly. Such was the shock that he withdrew completely and didn’t speak for six months.

This character trait has been reproduced in spades in our youngest grandson, Jack, who will be six years old in November. From the moment he wakes until he finally falls asleep, many hours later, Jack talks. When he’s not commenting on current events, he’s asking questions. He is very entertaining.

Life of Pee

 

Life of Pee

Yesterday’s post about using urine to cure a copper roof reminded me of this little volume by Sally Magnusson. It is a cornucopia of arresting and well-researched detail.

 For example, in addition to being used to tan leather and provide saltpetre to produce gunpowder or preserve meat, it had an interesting role to play in the manufacture of Harris tweed. It softened the material and fixed the dye. Have you ever stood next to someone wearing damp, very old, tweed? Urine is no longer used in modern production, so damp new tweed will not have the same aroma.

In Ancient Rome, urine was used in laundering clothes, the ammonia in it being a natural cleaning agent.

It was also used as an antiseptic in treating wounds.

In 1969, four full urine storage bags were left on the moon, along with other bags of human waste. These were not part of an experiment, but a means of lightening the load in the spacecraft, for its return to Earth.

 Modern science uses hormones extracted from urine in fertility treatment, and stem cells from urine have been ‘reprogrammed’ into neurons and used in medical research.

This waste product has been useful in so many ways and is now finding a purpose in medical science. Perhaps we should be doing even more with it! 

A Plumber’s Tale – copper roofing

 

A Plumber’s Tale – copper roofing

Paul is a plumber by trade, but he is an industrious and efficient workman and can turn his hand to most things. One day, he was fitting a copper roof on a public building in Lulworth Cove, Dorset. He soon became aware of an elderly chap on the ground, who seemed to be shouting something.

Paul smiled and waved and continued working but the old gentlemn persisted in hollering at him. He stopped to listen more carefully and was most surprised to hear that the old fellow was yelling, ‘Horse piss, horse piss.’

It was not clear to Paul whether or not this was a comment on his workmanship, so he decided to ignore it and continue his work. The bloke on the ground also carried on bellowing, ‘Horse piss, horse piss.’

Eventually, Paul decided to find out what the old chap meant by his comment, so he clambered down the ladder and spoke to him. He didn’t know what to expect but it transpired that the old fellow was an experienced workman, accustomed to working with copper.

 He told Paul, ‘Use horse piss to cure the copper. It turns it green.’ In this way, apparently, a new copper roof can be ‘aged’ quickly to fit in with its surroundings.

 I don’t know whether Paul took the advice – he’s only usually on nodding terms with horses, so I doubt it. In any case, how would he go about collecting it, and how many gallons would he need? How should it be applied? Would a paint brush do or would a bucketful at a time be sloshed over the roof? It would certainly be a messy and rather smelly business.

I imagine that, by now, many years later, the roof will have weathered naturally in the salt-laden air of Lulworth Cove.

 

 

Dot and carry

 

Dot and carry

 Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Some of the expressions I use are rather archaic, I fear. My son once asked me why I used ‘half a dozen’ or ‘a dozen’ to enumerate how many I needed of a certain item. Although British children post-1971 were educated in decimal currency and metric measures, we still hear Imperial System terms used to describe people’s height and weight.

Another thing we say is, ’Steady the Buffs.’ It means, ‘Calm down,’ and originated in the Royal East Kent Buffs, which was one of the oldest regiments in the British Army. It was used to encourage soldiers under pressure to maintain their discipline and self-control. My Kentish mother-in-law often quoted it, and it is one of our family expressions.

Speaking to someone the other day, I said my current method of going upstairs was ‘dot and carry.’ She looked puzzled, so I explained what I meant. It described how I put my left foot on the stair and brought my right up to meet it, and then proceeded in that way to the top of the stairs. Slow but sure!

However, (favourite word of mine!) it was used in times past to describe a limping person. Sometimes, the person might have one leg longer than the other, or he or she might have a wooden leg. The ‘dot’ was the sound of the artificial limb hitting the ground and the ‘carry’ was the movement of the other leg.

Are there things you say that cause bewilderment?

 

                                                 

Your payment has been declined

 

Your payment has been declined

Those stark words can create momentary panic, usually quickly resolved. Equally worrying was the message I received this morning – ‘Unfortunately payment could not be taken for your order.’

The delivery driver was at the door, explaining that the goods had not been paid for. I could not believe it! 

Quickly, I went online to rectify matters but had to ‘phone a customer help line. Cue mind-numbing musak and the oft-repeated message about all their operatives being overloaded with customers’ calls and an assurance that my call was important to them.

Meanwhile, the driver was calling his line manager or someone and then handed me his ‘phone, as he had managed to make contact, but reception was poor. Despite being only a short distance from a mast, reception here has always been hit and miss.

Eventually, the driver was given permission to heave the crates out of the van and deliver them to us, because we were ‘known and valued customers.’  

A few weeks ago, my credit card had been compromised and I was sent a new one. I had forgotten to update my payment details with the supermarket, but strangely, I had had deliveries since I’d received the new card. I was most apologetic to the poor driver, who had been significantly delayed by my declined payment. He was very pleasant about it, and we do ‘know’ each other, in a manner of speaking.

I apologised profusely to the support team when I contacted them to pay the bill. Immediately afterwards, I updated my details online. 

All should be well now!

New journey

New journey

                    This is a fair representation of me hobbling along.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I wanted to wait until Barry had finished all his explorations before I embarked on mine. However, backed up by the rest of the family, he was insistent that I ‘do something now, at least to get the ball rolling,’

It’s been some while since I’ve been able to go out for a ‘proper’ walk. I wrenched my knee in tussocky grass in April 2023 and thereafter, it took several weeks for my leg to recover. I compensated by my right leg taking most of the strain and I started to have problems with my right hip and knee and also my back.

Although I was not able to walk as far or as readily, life continued much as before. This summer, however, my right hip and knee have been troublesome. Whether or not it is relevant, after I had a tooth extraction in July, things became much worse. I said it was ‘referred pain’ or ‘trauma,’ but really, I was fooling myself. I said I would lose weight – that would be the answer, but it wasn’t. Barry took control, as he so often does, and on Saturday I went to have an x-ray at one of the local hospitals.

 I took a seat in the waiting room while Barry registered my details, because of course, I can’t do that for myself (!) and then he called to me. The chap next to me said, ‘You’ve been summoned,’ and I said, ‘It was hardly worth my while sitting down,’ which caused a ripple of amusement among the other people waiting.

Just in case we were confused about which department we were visiting, there were x-ray prints on the walls. I thought they were rather fine, but I only photographed one from an awkward sitting position.  

I didn’t have to wait long, and the process was so quick. Everything moved at the touch of a button. Maybe it’s been this way for decades, but I found it impressive.

Later on, after x-rays had been taken of knee and hip, I sat down to wait for Barry, when the man who’d been sitting next to me, walked past, and said, ‘You’ve moved.’ I said, ‘Not far, though,’ and he said, ‘Good luck, my darling. Have a nice weekend.’

It made me smile.

The results should be available later this week and then we consider next steps.

The previous week I had been sitting in another hospital waiting room, while Barry had something or other done – I’m rather losing track! 

Anyway, I was working on some puzzles in my ‘Haggard Hawks Book of Brain Teasers’ and became aware of the person beside me trying to see what I was doing, without actually leaning closer. I turned to him and said, ‘Do you want to know what I’m doing?’ and showed him the page I was looking at. His wife, sitting opposite, said, ‘He likes doing crosswords,’ and we spent an enjoyable few minutes puzzling out answers.

Not everyone sits, stony-faced, avoiding eye contact in these situations, I’m pleased to say. Naturally, I do recognise that many people in waiting rooms have dreadful problems and for them life is difficult, and I would never make light of their plight.