Eyes and Registrars

Yesterday was my appointment at the local hospital for my annual eye check-up. The reason I have this is because, some years ago, the optician discovered that I have high intraocular pressure and might have glaucoma. Subsequent specialists have decided that there is an increase in cupping of the optic nerve but that this is a congenital problem rather than an indication of glaucoma and indeed, I always get a high score on my field tests. But like Daphne, I have to have drops in my eyes so that they can examine them properly and always end up weeping copiously as a result and feeling 'a right idiot' whilst doing it. I tend to make a mess of the 'puffy air' test too, as I always manage to close my eye just before the puff of air hits it and this has been known to cause ill-concealed irritation to the doctor concerned.
This time, however, it wasn't a 'puffy air' test but a 'beam of blue light' test and the doc managed to examine the back of my eyes without the usual pupil-dilating  drops but, to make up for this, he measured the thickness of the cornea, which seemed to involve prodding them with a stick, although, as I had been given the anaesthetic drops beforehand, I didn't feel too much  beyond an irrisistible urge to close my eyes when he was telling me to keep them open and look at one of his ears. Confused? You should be... I know, all these technical terms are hard going.
The doctor who saw me introduced himself as a trainee consultant, which I established meant that he was a registrar.
"Oh, I've got one of those!" I said.
Well, actually I didn't but I did do the 'proud parent' routine and told him about Elder Daughter. "She's specialising in Care of the Elderly," I said, "And I'm encouraging her in that so that she can look after me in my old age."
"Forward planning," he said, " A good idea."
Anyway, I got away with not having to start on eye drops this time but I have to go back again in six months.
Keith picked me up when I had finished.
"So," he enquired, "Can you still see a field?"

Squirrel attack

This is a photo of the peanut feeder in the garden, the sole function of which is to provide easy access to food for any birds who happen to be flitting by looking for food. You may notice that there are a couple of plastic fastenings at the bottom to replace the original ones, which our local squirrels managed to dismantle. They have tried their best to nibble away at these but, so far, to no avail.

Not to be deterred, however, they have managed to loosen one of the metal strands, which you can see sticking out, which enables them to extract peanuts ad infinitem.

Keith thinks this is very clever.

I think it probably is clever but also extremely annoying and what is not clever is their total inability to understand that the peanuts are for the birds, not for them!

Back to the drawing board...

My picture

This is the picture that Elder Daughter gave me for Christmas. It's a Pete McKee print, Pete McKee being an up and coming Sheffield artist.

I love the picture and today the frame that I had ordered arrived, so here it is in all its glory.
Thank you, Kathy!

Gloucestershire Old Spot and nuthatches

Paddy and I set off this morning on our walk, braving the cold as is our wont and found ourselves on a new route which led past a pig pen containing two pigs which looked to me like Gloucestershire Old Spots. Knowing Paddy's propensity for high levels of excitement when within sniffing radius of pigs, I proceded cautiously and was only able to get this photo of one of them. However, as it had noticed us by this time and was approaching for a closer investigation, Paddy seems to have decided to keep a low profile on this occasion.

We got home in time for me to do the Big Garden Birdwatch. New visitors this year were two nuthatches but, although we have plenty of great tits, blue tits, dunnocks and house sparrows, we still have no starlings around here.

The Big Garden Birdwatch

This morning's visit to Flighty's blog reminded me that this weekend is the last of January and that means The Big Garden Birdwatch. I have only been doing this for the last three or four years but on Sunday morning, I shall be duly installed in the conservatory, coffee and binoculars to hand. This winter, I have been feeding the birds as usual and the vast majority have been great tits and blue tits with some blackbirds, dunnocks and, of course, the ever present magpies. Then there's the resident robin who seems to take great delight in chasing off all the other birds whenever he is around, but the biggest pains of all are the squirrels who have yet to be convinced that the food I put out is not actually for them at all.
However, my secret weapon, Paddy has lately taken to hurling himself at the bottom fence where they appear whenever he is let out and that seems to have made them a little more wary. He has yet to realise that the squirrels move a lot more quickly than him and can be back up in the trees laughing at him before he has reached the fence.
There have been a few narrow misses though, so squirrels, don't be too complacent. One of these days, one of you will go home missing a tail!

Another blonde joke...

Here's another nice one from TK (who objected to my calling him notorious the last time, so I need to tread carefully!).
A blonde woman was speeding down the road in her little red sports car and was pulled over by a woman police officer, who was also a blonde.
The blonde cop asked to see the blonde driver's license. She dug through her purse and was getting progressively more agitated.
'What does it look like?' she finally asked.
The policewoman replied, 'It's square and it has your picture on it.'
The driver finally found a square mirror in her purse, looked at it and handed it to the policewoman.
 'Here it is,' she said.
The blonde officer looked at the mirror, then handed it back saying, "OK, you can go. I didn't realize you were a cop...

The Guinness excuse

When we thought Dad was coming for Christmas, I bought a pack of four cans of Guinness for him, which, as arrangements were subsequently changed, were left in the cupboard and forgotten about. But only by me, it seems! When I got back from Bristol on Sunday, I discovered that there was now only one can left.
Upon enquiry, I was informed by 'He Who Is Always To Blame' that he had drunk the other three over the weekend as he needed the metal from the cans to make 'shims'. These, in case you feel you need to know, are something that he needs in his auto-locksmithing work and seemingly, can only be made from empty Guinness cans.
What is even more surprising is that, as he was explaining this, he held up only two metal sheets for my inspection, which begs the question, what happened to the third?
Keith looked meaningfully across at Paddy and shrugged.