Escape to where?

You must have seen them, these irritating, self-congratulatory programmes featuring couples, often as young as twelve (seemingly), who want to move with their millions to somewhere 'in the country' where one needs to be a millionaire simply to contemplate living there. They usually want an enormous property in the middle of nowhere, where the two of them will rattle around and sit on their balcony on summer evenings, sipping their aperitifs and contemplating endless rolling hills and valleys. They also require never-ending sunshine and have never given a thought to how they will manage if they're snowed in for weeks in the middle of winter.

Oh, and they generally want to keep alpacas. What???

These people are notoriously difficult to please and will dismiss fantastic properties in the blink of an eye because the ceilings are too low or the kitchen is fifty-nine feet long instead of sixty or it has a Rayburn instead of an Aga.

I generally try to avoid these programmes but Keith loves them as they give him the perfect opportunity to do his 'grumpy old man' routine and, believe me, he is working hard on perfecting that! So today, I dimly heard the presenter say, as he ushered the couple into the  first property for viewing,

"I am hoping that the first thing you will feel here..."

To which Keith interjected, quick as a flash,

"Is a cricket bat!"

He is on the ball, that man! Definitely the best bit of the programme.

Eggs

Lying in bed this morning, listening to Radio 4, I heard the presenter talking about farmers who had had problems making a living with cows and, instead 'getting into eggs.' 

"That must be a bit of a squash," I remarked to Keith. Yes, even at 6.30am, the old mind is razor sharp.

"Yes," agreed Keith and then in a Welsh farmer's accent, 

"We didn't have much luck milking them, though."

(I can hear Elder Daughter's groans from here...)

Thanks TK.

This is from Australia and other versions have been doing the rounds in the past but it's one of those things you read and laugh at and then quietly weep as it reminds us how ridiculous our societies have become in so many ways. Enjoy!   

NOAH TODAY

           In the year 2013, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in Australia and said:
           "Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-populated, and I see the end of all flesh before me.  

           Build another  Ark   and save 2 of every living   thing along with a few good humans."
           He gave Noah the blueprints, saying:
           "You have 6 months to build the  Ark before I will start the unending rain in Queensland first for 40 days and 40 nights."

           Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah
           Weeping in his yard - but no  Ark
           "Noah!," He roared, "I've started the rain in Queensland !
           Where is the    Ark?"
           "Forgive me, Lord," begged Noah, "but things have changed."

           "I needed a Building Permit."

           "I've been arguing with the Boat Inspector
           About the need for an on-board sprinkler system.

           "My neighbours claim that I've violated the
           Neighbourhood Bye-Laws by building the  Ark in my
           Backyard  and exceeding the height limitations.  We had to
           Go to the Councill Planning Committee for a decision."

           "Then the Local Council and the Electricity Company demanded a shed load of money for the future costs of moving power
           Lines and other overhead obstructions, to clear the
           Passage for the  Ark's move to the sea.  I told them
           That the sea would be coming to us, but they would
           Hear nothing of it."

           "Getting the wood was another problem.  There's a ban
           On cutting local trees in order to save the Greater Spotted Mopoke."
           "I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the the Mopokes - but no go!"
           "When I started gathering the animals the RSPCA took me to court. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will.  They
           Argued the accommodations were too restrictive, and
           It was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in
           A confined space."

           "Then the Environmental Protection Agency ruled that I couldn't build the   Ark until they'd conducted an environmental impact study
           On your proposed flood."

           "I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the
           Human Rights Commission on how many minorities I'm
           Supposed to hire for my building gang."

           "Immigration are checking the
           Visa status of most of the people who want to work."

           "The trades unions say I can't use my sons.  They
           Insist I have to hire only Union workers with
           Ark-building experience."

           "To make matters worse, the Australian Taxation Office seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country illegally
           With endangered species."

           "So, forgive me, Lord, but it will take at least 10
           Years for me to finish this  Ark."

           Suddenly the skies cleared over Queensland , the sun began to shine,
           And a rainbow stretched across the sky."

           Noah looked up in wonder and asked,
           "You mean you're not going to destroy the world?"

           "No," said the Lord.   " The Australian Government beat me to it!!"

The bad dog saga

Yes, folks, Paddy here and I bet you have already assumed that I'm the one in trouble again.

Wrong!

This time it was Saint Jake - you know, the little white mop that never does anything wrong? Boy, did he blot his copybook yesterday.

It all happened when Keith stepped out to the front door in the middle of a phone call on his mobile and left the living room door open as well. (Well, you know men can't multi-task.) That was the signal for nosy Jake to peer out and having spotted a cat outside, quickly legged it in pursuit.

There are two reasons why Jenny found this difficult to understand:

1. Jake never runs if he can walk.

2. He never takes any notice of cats.

Jenny often comments that when I spot a cat, like any self-respecting terrier, I do my utmost to chase it, but it sits just out of reach and laughs at me, whereas Jake ignores any cats he sees, whilst they take one look as him and scram.

Of course, Keith got it in the neck for leaving both doors open and he then set off in the car to look for him, while Jenny took me out on foot to do the same. I must say, she didn't seem very impressed with my bloodhound capabilities, probably because I haven't got any, and it was a while before we finally found the little idiot, wandering out of someone's garden.

So Jake has been in disgrace and banished to his basket.

I think he got the message and, for once, I'm in the clear!

Get out of that one, then!

Interesting how the NHS office staff deal with mistakes. Today, I did have my little operation, with the usual preliminary questions, BP checks etc. The anaesthetist came to speak to me and remembered that my original date was last Wednesday.

"Ah yes," she said, "I believe you were given the wrong fasting information."

"Ah no," I said, "I was moved from the afternoon list to the morning one but no-one told me."

She remained discreetly noncommittal. 

However, the staff were brilliant, I got through it and hopefully,  no further action will be needed.

Result!

And Keith gets to wait on me hand and foot all evening!

Operation - or not

About sixteen years ago, I was 'threatened' with the possibility of a hysterectomy, but in the event, I only got a right salpingo-oophorectomy (Look it up!). However, there have been a few times in the intervening years when I have wished that the decision had been different, usually ever five or six years when I get uterine polyps. (Male readers should probably stop reading at this point!)

This year has presented me with the same symptoms again, necessitating an ultrasound which indicated the need for further investigation in the form of a hysteroscopy under general anaesthetic.

When the nice lady from the hospital rang to arrange the appointment, I asked if it could be after Easter, to which she replied, "Well, you're down as a priority" which did, I don't mind admitting, fill me with a degree of alarm. So last week I went for my pre-op assessment and today, I should have been arriving at the hospital at 11.30 for the afternoon list.

On Monday, I had received another call, from the same nice lady, informing me that, instead of Mr xxxx, Mrs xxxxxxx would be doing the operation. Did I need a follow up letter? Not really, given the short time scale and the fact that we have had no post since last Thursday. I would be there as planned.

This morning, as I came in from climbing round the field with Paddy in the still-deep snow, I was greeted at the door by Keith with the phone in his hand, on the other end of which was another lady wondering why I was not at the hospital. 

It appears that Monday's caller had omitted to tell me that the change of surgeon also meant a change of list, from the afternoon to the morning!

As I had been told I could have a light breakfast before 7.30am, I had, so now I am told that I have a new appointment for next Wednesday - morning list.

In the grand scheme of things, it's not a huge deal but I had to work hard to get even a grudging apology at the end of the phone call and that's a big part of my feeling of frustration this morning.  Quite apart from the fact that someone messed up, why oh why is it so difficult these days to get an apology from organisations, whoever they are? It costs nothing and would do much to soothe ruffled feelings in most cases.

Meanwhile, I shall get back to normal life for another week...

And still it snows

Terrestrial TV gave up the ghost yesterday evening too, so Keith was even less happy, but this morning, a 'lump' of snow has fallen off the aerial and now he can at least watch Freeview and he has Sky Go too so is, at present, watching F1on his phone - fortunately via bluetooth, so I don't even have to hear it!

As you can see, the snow is still with us and increasing and multiplying as I write. This morning, I had to dig my way out through the conservatory door and then dig a pathway into the garden for the dogs to get out. What fun!

Even the washing line has come down with the weight of snow.

But Keith has his Formula 1 so all is well...

Mae'n bwrw eira - again!

And here we are again. The calendar says 'Spring', the weather says, 'Oh no it isn't! It's still snow time!'

As the snow is about 10 inches deep, there is no chance of Jake going out for a walk, as his little legs wouldn't touch terra firm. Paddy shows a distinct disinclination to go anywhere except a quick trip into the back garden to do what's necessary. 

Keith is equally lacking in motivation, justified in his case, as his ankle is very painful today, but he is also bemoaning the fact that the Sky signal is off, so he can't watch Formula One trials.

So, not all bad then!

Yes, I know, horrible, aren't I?

A Mother's Story: The three amigos

A Mother's Story: The three amigos

A portrait from the past

Yesterday was a day with Paul, his brother Nathan and Elder and Younger Daughter and today being Mother's Day, Younger Daughter had had a portrait of me enlarged onto canvas for my present.

There is a story behind this picture.

When I first went to college in Hull, back in 1967, I met up in the first few days with the friends that I would go through college with and one of these was a girl who was a little older than the rest of us, although to us 18 and 19 year olds, at 24 she seemed the height of maturity and sophistication. Her name was Ilona, known to everyone as Noni and she had worked at the Council of Europe before deciding to turn her sights to teaching.

Noni's mother lived in a cottage somewhere near Wellingborough, as I recall, her father having disappeared to the depths of Africa many years previously, allegedly to shoot big game, leaving Noni and her brother and sister to be brought up by their mother. 

The other unusual thing about Noni was that, in a time when no students had cars, she did; it was an ancient Austin 10 but to us, it was a valuable means of travel. Admittedly, it frequently ground to a halt but Noni had a fail-safe solution to that, which was to get tools out of the boot, spread them on the road behind the car and then stand there looking helpless in the hope that a knight of the road would pull up and solve the problem. As I say, it never failed.

However, back to the picture. On one of the first weekends at college, a couple of us were invited to go home with Noni and we did. The main thing I remember was the the cottage, even in October, was bone-bitingly, chillingly cold, but Noni's mother made us very welcome and, as she was an amateur painter, she offered to do our portraits. I think I was the only one who took her up on her offer (vain even in those days!) and the result you can see above.

Looking at it now - I haven't even thought about it for years - I am reminded of a group of friends on the brink of a new career, broadening horizons (for those days, anyway) and the promise of a life ahead of us which would meet all our hopes and expectations.

I doubt if any of us considered that we might, at times, have to take the scenic route!