On the roof

 

On the roof

 . . . no, not of the world, but our house.

It is impossible to assess the condition of a roof from ground level and all the time nothing disastrous happens in the house, it can be ignored only too readily. Heavy, persistent rain points out the weaknesses in the structure we rely on to keep us safe and dry.                            

While replacing the guttering last week, the workmen discovered that many of the tiles were loose, the pointing needed to be repaired, the flashing round the chimney was in need of attention and much of the lead also needed to be replaced. They returned on Saturday to rectify these defects.

While the dogs took little to no notice of the banging and hammering, the cats were intrigued, particularly when they caught sight of the workmen through the kitchen Velux in the flat roof of the kitchen. It was amusing to watch them as they briefly adopted ‘hunter’ poses.

We were grateful that these faults were discovered. When external defects cannot be seen, the potential damage to roof joists is also not considered and could be substantial and costly.

It’s just the flat roof to be repaired now, two stretches above the front door and the garage and around the side of the extension, which was built before we bought the house. Flat roofs are a nuisance, for even if there is a slight slope to drain rainwater, they are not as effective as pitched roofs. Water collects in puddles and can damage the material covering the roof.

Apparently, architects like to design buildings with flat roofs, because they are more aesthetically pleasing. I found this:

One of the primary reasons modern architects embrace flat roofs is the additional usable space they offer. Unlike sloped roofs, which limit the utilization of the top area of a building, flat roofs provide an ideal and open platform for rooftop gardens, recreational spaces, and even urban farming.

 A rooftop garden sounds an attractive proposition, but I wonder how sensible it is to lay tubs or raised beds on a roof and fill them with soil and plants. Watering them would be essential, of course, and that would create even greater weight. I have seen such gardens locally, and they look attractive and productive, but the roof maintenance must be difficult and ongoing. What is happening underneath cannot be seen.

Creating a roof garden is not straightforward. Planning permission and building regulations are required. Once in place, it could last for 40 or 50 years.

In cities, a roof garden can improve air quality, as plants absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen. It can also increase the management of storm water, absorbing rainwater and returning it to the atmosphere through evaporation and transpiration. It adds a layer of insulation to a building, thereby reducing energy consumption, and lowers surface temperatures. Traditional rooftops are about 50 degrees hotter than roof gardens. Most importantly of all, a roof garden will attract bees, butterflies and other wild life.

In a city full of buildings, roof gardens could do much to ameliorate the effects of dense traffic. You can read more about some of London’s roof gardens here. 

The Clairvoyant Cabbie

 

The Clairvoyant Cabbie

?

My daughter had a strange experience in a London cab some years ago. The cab stopped at some traffic lights and the cabbie looked at my daughter through the driver’s mirror and said my late sister’s name. My sister had an unusual name, not one that would naturally spring to mind or easily be guessed, so my daughter was taken aback.

 When the cabbie then added my brother-in-law’s name to the mix, my daughter was even more perplexed. He said she was not to worry and that my sister was well and happy. My daughter and my sister did not look alike – blue/green eyes and long blonde hair against dark brown eyes and short dark hair, so there could have been no visual ‘jolt’ even in the unlikely event that my sister and the cabbie had met.

Was it chance that he happened upon my sister’s name? He and my daughter had never met before – it was a casual encounter between driver and passenger and they knew nothing of each other and had not been conversing. My sister had lived near her husband’s family in rural Norfolk for many years after moving from Kent and had never lived in London.

This was brought to mind when I was listening to Radio 4. Julian Clary was a guest on Paul Merton’s programme, Room 101 and mentioned a psychic cabbie in London. Apparently, there is also a psychic cabbie in Gateshead.

 

As Shakespeare’s Hamlet expressed it:

‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’

Incidental Education

 

Incidental Education

It is always good for the ageing brain to have something new to ponder. My geriatric grey matter usually wanders all over the place, mostly thinking about nothing in particular and everything in general. That is why I welcome books that inform me and focus my attention. Obviously, reference books, which I have in abundance, are inestimable and well-thumbed, but it is incidental information, that arrives by way of fiction, that I embrace.

For example, the Bryant and May series, written by Christopher Fowler, is crime fiction, but hidden within is an intricate tapestry of historical London. Alongside classical and occult references, the books are stimulating and satisfying.

Similarly, the Marcus Didius Falco series, by Lindsey Davis, has broadened my knowledge and understanding of ancient Rome and its Empire. It is ancient history brought to fresh life and it encourages a desire to learn more.

A recent discovery for me has been Joy Ellis’s Jackman and Evans detective series.  The last one I read, ‘They disappeared’, introduced me to Urban Exploration, a fascinating pastime and one I would rather read about than undertake.

Personally, the finest authors are those who are able to entertain and inform and excite further research. I have spoken of fiction writers in this post, but that last statement holds true for non-fiction writers, too, people like Max Hastings and James Holland and Joe Simpson.

Education is a life-long enjoyable process. When curiosity no longer holds sway the spirit begins to decline and turn in on itself. Self-absorption is interesting only to the self.

Curiosity and the Cats

Curiosity and the Cats – and Lolly.

I think it is generally accepted that cats are curious and our Ocicats are certainly no exception. In addition, they are very attached to us, following us around the house. When we go to bed at night they all come up with us, choosing their spots on the bed, between the dogs. Somehow, Barry and I manage to carve out space for ourselves and some while thereafter the cats move on to our legs. They are heavy! Lenny the Somali, who is actually one of Susannah’s cats, comes to bed later and sleeps next to my head. He used to try sleeping on it but I dissuaded him from that.

Lenny is a very vocal cat and it is possible, even obligatory, to have lengthy conversations with him. He greets everyone, two-legged and four-legged, with enthusiasm. For a fairly small cat he has a loud and insistent voice.

Lenny speaks! 

We have two wooden buildings at the end of our garden. One houses the endless swimming pool and the other is a gymnasium. One morning recently, Barry stepped into the garden to be met by Lenny, vociferously miauing and running back and forth in the direction of the gym.  Barry chatted to him but Lenny was insistent that Barry should follow him. Naturally, one cannot disobey a cat and so he followed him. On opening the door he was met by Herschel and Jellicoe, who had slipped in behind him a few hours earlier and found themselves shut in. It was remarkable how persistent Lenny was. Clearly, he did not want his friends to remain trapped.

The next day Barry went to the swimming pool and when he opened the door Jellicoe shot out like a bolt from an arrow, desperate to relieve himself. When Barry had gone to check the water temperature the previous evening Jellicoe had followed him in, unnoticed, and had been locked in all night. We don’t allow our cats to stay outside at night and usually count them before we go to bed, leaving fresh chicken in the kitchen for their supper. Somehow, we had neglected to do this so poor Jellicoe was not only imprisoned but left to starve. Such cruel humans! He has been unusually attentive and lap-seeking since then.

In mitigation, we had been hosting Lolly the Labrador while her humans went on holiday, and had needed to ensure she went upstairs before the cats were fed. There were two reasons for this. The first is that Lolly is very good but not used to cats. She knows she must not chase them but sometimes the temptation proves too much. Our Ocicats treat her with disdain so she soon abandons her pursuit of them, although to be extra sure of safety they frequently take to altitude. The exception to this is Isambard, the most nervous and timid of our cats, who nonetheless does his utmost to make friends with her. Foolish Lenny and his brother Solomon run away and so Lolly is encouraged to give chase. Feisty Zula the Abyssinian, the smallest of them all, hisses loudly and wise Lolly keeps her distance from her. The second reason concerns the gate – a baby gate! – into the kitchen to prevent our dogs thieving the cats’ succulent raw chicken wings. It presents no obstacle to Lolly who is very athletic and leaps over with ease. She is not a greedy dog – for a Labrador! - but chicken is alluring and it is amazing how quickly a dog can siphon up food.

Frankie loves the dogs and enjoyed having an extra dog for a couple of weeks. Here they all are in Simons Wood, left to right : Gus, Jenna, Frankie, Bertie, Lolly, Roxy

Lolly has returned home now and life has returned to normal, or as normal as it ever is in our house. It is also a little quieter, because Lolly, being a London dog, is very protective of Bethan and her children and transfers that care to us when on holiday with us. She has a loud, penetrating bark and encourages the rest to join in. Five barking dogs are a great deterrent to potential intruders and much more effective than any doorbell.

Sadly, Lolly was getting used to the cats again and they were sleeping next to her, but next time she comes to stay we shall have to reinforce the lessons learnt this time – and last time – and the time before. Lolly is very intelligent but there are some things she pretends  - or prefers - not to understand.

Bureaucracy or The Right Hand Doesn't Know What The Left Hand's Doing

My husband had occasion to seek advice from HM Revenue and Customs this morning.  He phoned the help desk and explained the problem, viz, his late mother’s estate (she died in March this year) was being handled by his brother who died suddenly on Saturday. Probate had been granted but administration of the estate had not been completed. Barry’s sister-in-law told Barry she had been informed she would have to take over probate.

The help desk told Barry that was nonsense and he, as next of kin, would be responsible and he should apply for a second grant of probate. Barry then checked with Winchester, the office that granted probate, and was told that his sister-in-law would definitely be responsible for probate, along with her deceased husband’s estate.

Barry checked with the help desk again and the man he spoke to consulted three of his senior colleagues who insisted that their advice was right. A further phone call to Winchester resulted in three managers confirming that the advice they were giving was accurate. Back to the help desk who maintained their position but advised him to get legal advice (!!) but also said that as Winchester was responsible for granting probate he’d better accept their advice as they would be dealing with it.

Everyone Barry spoke to was helpful and polite but why was there so much disagreement between them? Finally, Barry phoned the principal Registry in London and The Winchester office’s advice was confirmed as correct.    

Fortunately, Barry and his sister-in-law get on well together and there is no conflict of interest or argument about the disposal of his late mother’s estate.

Help desks should help, not confuse. There needs to be clarification in training so that all parties are giving the same advice.

                                                                                               

In London with Bethan

Bethan’s wedding dress has arrived and she went to try it on yesterday. She invited me to go with her and I was only too pleased to obligeJ

There are some minor alterations to be made but it is a beautiful dress with some wonderful appliqué work. The hour-long appointment passed all too quickly but Bethan now has a better idea of what jewellery to wear. She’s seeing Gee, her chief bridesmaid, this evening and will ask her advice before she reaches a decision.

Bethan and Gee, about six years old

She and Gee have been friends since they were four years old and have grown up, grown apart and grown together again. They have a friendship that is effortless and easy and will last through their lifetimes.

I Saw Sunday #54 The weekend

This weekend Gillian and Kiri and Callum came for the weekend. Paul was working on the central heating in their house and thought Gillian would prefer to be somewhere where hot and cold running water were still available! Marnie stayed at home to make sure her father was supplied with refreshments at regular intervals (also her boy-friend is going away for a couple of weeks and they wanted to spend some time together.)

The puppies were delighted to see each other and all the adult dogs greeted each other with pleasure, in Gus’ case, rather too much so. He really seems to be in love with Foxy who is far too soft to tell him off when he gets overly familiar. He became rather possessive and had to be rebuked. He’s a very intelligent dog and learns quickly what is acceptable and what is not.

On Saturday morning Buster, Bertie’s brother, was exploring the garden and went behind the holly tree to find himself on the far side of the pond. I have been working on the pond recently, dragging out rampant water plants. This just ensured that the duck weed had more room to spread itself. To inexperienced puppy eyes the bright green blanket looks quite solid and Buster stepped onto it and through it into the cold water below. He then swam from one end of the pond to the other and managed to haul himself out. Gillian roared with laughter when he went back into the house, dripping wet and with a fetching nasal decoration of duck weed. He was none the worse for the experience and was quickly rubbed dry. So now both the puppies have discovered that they can swim.

We took all the dogs walking in the forest later and the puppies watched closely as their larger friends and relations retrieved tirelessly. Bertie and Buster chased where they could but were both quite careful at the edges of the large pond.

Frodo was very ataxic – some days he’s more affected than others – and stumbled and pulled a muscle in his hind leg. He had to be helped along with a sling but went into the water as he always does. 

Unfortunately, getting out was quite a problem for him and by the time he had managed it, with a good deal of assistance from me, he was no longer a sparkling white Dalmatian with clear, black spots but a strange amalgam of Dalmatian and mud.

Back home he had to have a cold shower in the garden before he could be allowed indoors. He never complains – I really think I could do just about anything to him and he wouldn’t turn a hair. Not unnaturally the shower made him shiver but I gave him warm milk with an egg and a little sugar and he soon warmed up. Then I put one of the Ruffwear harnesses on him, which made me a little sad. It’s not even a year since Buddy was wearing these, but he was nearly fifteen when he died and had rear end weakness. Frodo is not ten until December. Today, though, he was a different dog, prancing along beside me.

Yesterday afternoon we took Bertie to London to see Bethan and Robert in their new house. Bertie was delighted to have another lap to snooze on and thoroughly enjoyed bumbling around their pretty garden.

Today all the dogs were tired, the puppies particularly, but they all enjoyed another romp in the forest. Gillian has gone home to Dorset and the house seems strangely quieter now with just its customary inhabitants.

I am linking to I Saw Sunday here

It is Christmas!!

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Further to my post of 28^th July it seems that it is Christmas already, at least in two famous London stores. Quite by chance I discovered that Selfridges had opened its Christmas shop on July 29^th, 149 days before Christmas Day. 

I was astounded but today I found out that Harrods had opened its Yuletide shop two days earlier. Apparently, it has always followed the practice of selling early for Christmas but as I don’t shop at Harrods that fact had escaped me until now.

I decided to use Christmassy colours for this post to  . . . celebrate? . . . match the mood?                 

Magpie Tales #62 Homesick

Thanks go to Willow who organises and hosts this meme J To read more Magpies please click here.

Image copyright Tess Kincaid

Marianela knew a good breakfast was necessary to sustain her through class. Today she had prepared what she called her patriotic breakfast. Whenever she felt particularly homesick – and it was usually after problems with learning new steps – she cooked fried eggs and served them on her willow pattern plate. If she squinted she could make herself believe that the egg yolks looked like brilliant suns in a bright white sky. Blue, white and yellow – the colours of her country’s flag.

It was fanciful, of course, but it made her smile and seemed to shrink the thousands of miles between London and Buenos Aires. The only drawback was that she didn’t really like eggs. However she cut off another small piece and told herself she was eating sunshine and goodness.

Red Nose Day

Fund-raising with a difference is organised by Comic Relief biennially across the UK, the biggest and most noticeable event being Red Nose Day.

In 1985 Ethiopia was experiencing a devastating famine.  On Christmas Day, 1985, a charity organisation called Comic Relief was launched from a refugee camp in Sudan. Red Nose Day, a fundraising idea founded by the charity, took place for the first time just over two years later, on 5^th February 1988.

The aim of Red Nose Day is to raise money to help the plight of thousands of people in Africa and the UK who are suffering dreadful injustice or living in extreme poverty. On this day everyone in the UK is encouraged to overcome natural reticence, put on a Red Nose (or wear something red) and be sponsored to do something amusing or unusual or even quite mundane for money.

In the first year the red noses were shiny, hard and very uncomfortable to wear - sales amounted to 3.4 million. The red nose was so popular that it was difficult to find one, outlets like Oxfam selling out as soon as they went on sale. Twenty-five years later sales of red noses had risen to more than 50 million. It is not uncommon to see cars, lorries, trucks sporting large red noses.

The day is celebrated in diverse ways – schools, offices, pubs, hairdressers are among the institutions that participate. Anything from cake sales to sponsored silences, sitting in a bath full of baked beans to climbing Mount Kilimanjaro can take place in the lead-up to the day. People work together or individually to raise funds.

This year Red Nose Day falls today, Friday 18^th March. The biggest event of the day is a marathon telethon hosted by the BBC. It involves many celebrities and is a mix of comedy and poignant documentary films. All the money raised goes to good causes. The three main sponsors, the BBC, BT and Sainsbury’s give their services free and all of the participants waive their fees. All administrative costs are met from the interest accruing from monies raised before they are distributed to the many good causes.

The founders of Comic Relief are amazed and gratified by the success of their vision.

Richard Curtis, (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Love Actually, Blackadder) Co-founder of Comic Relief, says:

‘An astonishing credit to the British people, because of their continued and remorseless generosity’

The CEO of Sainsbury’s comments:

‘The Red Nose Day campaign has become part of Sainsbury’s way of life, and we’re incredibly proud that our colleagues and customers have been able to help raise £48 million for Comic Relief over the years’

http://www.bbc.co.uk/rednoseday/

In 1988 Barry was working in London and used to go running with two others during his lunch hour through the streets and parks. On that first Red Nose Day the three men collected more than £200 for Comic Relief, the equivalent of around £800 today.

Feeling odd

I’m not writing this as a plea for sympathy but as an objective attempt to understand what is going on. I feel decidedly odd today. (Unkind commentators might observe that this feeling merely reflects my natural condition.)

I had planned to visit the garden centre this morning and then titivate the ornamental hay racks at the front of the house. Presently they are filled with the dead remains of geraniums and a few brave, lingering nasturtiums. However, when I clambered carefully out of bed, trying to avoid disturbing Winston, who sleeps on my feet, and Jenna, always pressed to my back, I had the peculiar sensation of being slightly off-balance. (Again, this leaves me open to cruel remarks.)

Now, a few hours later, I know I cannot trust myself to drive anywhere, so my day will be spent indoors, doing as little as possible (Nothing new there, then!) and hoping the fog will clear. My head is full of cotton wool (My detractors always suspected there was no grey matter in it!) and is threatening to ache. I suppose this is what one of my work colleagues used to refer to as ‘half a headache’.

Barry sporadically suffers from a balance problem – positional vertigo caused by crystals in the inner ear - which causes giddiness and nausea. Medication (betahistine dihydrochloride) helps him and sometimes exercises – the Epley manoeuvre, (similar to the Brandt-Daroff Repositioning Exercise) – are effective, though occasionally they aggravate the vertigo.

The Epley manoeuvre

He had a recurrence of this ailment after we came home from London at the weekend. It has lasted for several days and strangely, just as he is recovering I have developed a similar complaint, though I am not as severely affected as he has been. 

We are wondering now if we have picked up a ‘bug’. It just goes to show, it’s dangerous to go out! You never know how generous people are going to be with their germs. As Adrian Monk would agree, ‘It’s a jungle out there!’

Buddy keeps us on our toes!

It was a lovely day on Wednesday. Barry had gone to a formal lunch in London so I took the dogs out on my own. We didn't meet a soul and it was good to feel that we had the forest to ourselves. Jenna and Gus played in and around the ponds and Frodo went in for a refreshing bath. Buddy was sniffing interesting sniffs and happily wagging his tail as we walked along in the sunshine. There was a pleasant breeze to complement the bright sun, the birds were singing and all was well with the world. It felt good to be alive.
When we reached home the dogs flopped down to snooze. After a while Buddy got up and went to the patio door, asking to go out. He started pacing restlessly then began coughing and frothing at the mouth. My first thought was that he had something stuck in his throat though he'd had nothing to eat since breakfast several hours before and I knew he hadn't picked up anything during our walk. He became ever more agitated, stumbling almost into the pond, and I looked in his mouth to see if anything was there. At the same time I noticed that his stomach was bloating and becoming very tight and hard. Within minutes I got him to the vets' surgery – fortunately, it's only two minutes away by car – and managed to help him out of the car. By now he was extremely distressed and I was very relieved when a nurse came after a minute or two to take him through to the treatment area.

When Mark-the-Vet came back to talk to me he looked grave. Buddy was in a bad way. If he was suffering from gastric dilatation a tube could be passed down his throat to relieve the build-up of gas, it would be clear that the stomach had not twisted and he would instantly feel much better. If the tube could not be passed other measures could be taken to release the gas and reduce the pressure, namely inserting a needle or catheter into his stomach from outside. An x-ray would help to determine the state of Buddy's insides. Ultimately, an operation might be required but it was not a procedure to be undertaken lightly in view of Buddy's age – he's fourteen and nearly died three years ago from meningitis. I had to sign a consent form for anaesthesia but could hardly write because my hand was shaking so much. I may always look calm and collected but under the surface everything's racing! I went home to await further information.

As I walked into the house my ears were assailed by noise. The house phone was ringing, as was my mobile. In my haste I had left it behind. Added to this was Skype donging determinedly on my laptop. Barry was on the train and trying to contact me to let me know when to meet him. When he couldn't get an answer from me he started worrying that something had happened and contacted Gillian to phone, email and Skype me. No-one is allowed to remain unreachable in our family!

As luck would have it, when I left to meet Barry at the station Mark-the-Vet tried several times to contact me. He was phoning every ten minutes to discuss options. It was clear that Buddy had a twisted stomach, usually called gastric torsion or volvulus. There were dangers inherent in an operation; general anaesthesia poses a risk in any animal, more so an elderly one. The stomach wall and abdominal organs might be badly damaged if the blood supply to them had been reduced, and the recovery period was critical. Finally we decided that it was not the right time to let Buddy go – in general, he's fit and healthy, though almost blind. He deserved his chance and so we gave our consent for the operation. Mark-the-Vet phoned at 9:30 that evening to let us know how it had progressed. He had never performed this procedure and had called in another vet, whom he assisted. The stomach was undamaged and had only twisted once. In order to prevent it twisting again in the future it had been stitched to the abdomen wall and Buddy was recovering. Around two hours later Ben-the-Vet, the operating vet, called to tell us that Buddy seemed well but that he would stay overnight to keep an eye on him and would we like him to call us at 3:00 am? We declined! Thursday was an anxious day but my mind and time were occupied very pleasantly by Susannah, who invited me to meet her in London, so I left Barry to wait for news. Mark-the-Vet and Kate-the-Vet phoned two or three times to give an update on the boy's progress and it seemed that Buddy would not be ready to leave for a while. We anticipated him being away over the weekend but on Friday afternoon we were told that we could take him home on Saturday, once final checks had been done. Yesterday, at 3:00 pm, almost exactly three days to the hour that I had rushed him in there, he wobbled out from the treatment area, wagging his tail and obviously pleased to see us. The rest of the animals were excited to see him and sniffed him all over.

Sleeping peacefully - sleep is the best cure of all!

Last night I slept downstairs with him as managing the stairs would be difficult for him. He was a little disturbed by this – he's accustomed to sleeping in our bedroom - and kept going to the foot of the stairs until I shut the sitting room door.

One could be forgiven for thinking that Cruella de Vil had been taking samples!

He woke about 4:00 am and wandered around for an hour or so before having a small meal and going back to sleep.

A Dalmatian's spots really are skin-deep! They are spotted within and without - even in their mouths. Buddy has had two analgesic patches. I think the second one may be removed on Monday.

He goes back to the vet for a check-up tomorrow – I don't know whether he'll have a fresh analgesic patch. He has antibiotics for the next few days and needs lots of rest to recuperate.

It's good to see him back in his place on the settee! He's a great character and we would have missed him sorely. His time will come – but not just now. There's life in the old dog, yet - and we have our great vets to thank for that!