Martyn’s car passed its MoT yet again yesterday, with a whisker over 1000 miles on the clock since its last one. While we waited, we ambled along to the nearby electrical factors to buy some fancy LED filament bulbs for the new movement sensor lamps at the front of the house. Colin the sparky was here on Tuesday to fix most of our list of jobs, including a broken light fitting in the cupboard under the stairs. The first new LED fitting was nice and bright, but only for about 45 seconds before going ’phut!’ and tripping the circuit breaker. The replacement seems a shade more durable. Invoice awaited...
The Egg’s MoT was done by around 14:30 so, that being the scheduled arrival time in these parts of the D-Day flight of DC-3s out of Duxford, we hied ourselves along to a suitable vantage point. Cutting a long and chilly story short, we finished up drinking tea at Bewl Water until close to 17:00, when the first of them came over. It proved to be the perfect viewpoint: just a shame the weather was so grey. Quite something to see so many 75-80 year old planes still airworthy, and they were accompanied by Mustangs, Harvards and Beech 18s of comparable vintage. As for the delay, one version has it that they had to wait for decent weather near Caen, where the DC-3s were to drop their parachutists. Another has it that various VIPs’ helicopters were holding things up. Knowing which VIPs were involved, the latter story seems the more plausible. Whatever, it was a remarkable experience, and I doubt if we’ll see the like again.
Thursday, 6 June 2019
Monday, 3 June 2019
Normality
We’re getting back to it. The symptoms of Martyn’s stroke soon disappeared, though he tires easily. I’m doing the driving at the moment, since he was advised not to for a month after the event. Though it’s now eight weeks, he is waiting to see the consultant before getting behind the wheel again.
Sam the plumber/handyman has finished the tiling and boxing in of pipes in the cloakroom, so it’s ready for James the painter to work his magic while we’re away in France later this month. He’s doing Martyn’s study and the sitooterie while he’s at it, so we’re doing quite a lot of clearing out at the moment! We have a growing pile of stuff to take to the charity shop, and have freecycled one of his bookcases and some computer bits and pieces. I need to tackle the cupboards in the sitooterie: they are full of crockery and glass that we never use, so I think quite a lot of it will be heading down the road ere long.
The garden is in fine form: the roses have started to flower, and old favourites like the irises, cistus and thrift are doing very well. The potatoes have a luxuriant canopy of leaves, and the runner beans are reaching the top of their frame. The dwarf French beans are sulking a bit: the big-name supplier’s seeds have done next to nothing, whereas those from a long-open packet from Fortnums are looking altogether stronger.
On Friday, having finished breakfast, I was sitting around in my dressing gown, tapping away at the iPad. At one point it occurred to me to check my hobby email account, and found a reminder to change my password for the common platform that contains the rota and suchlike. Having duly complied, I took a quick dip into the rota, only to find that I was due in that very day. I’d plainly failed to copy the sitting into my calendar. Well, I was showered, dressed and out the door with the speed of a fleeing adulterer, and was on parade only twenty minutes late. Needless to say I have double-checked and fortunately found no other errors or omissions!
Sam the plumber/handyman has finished the tiling and boxing in of pipes in the cloakroom, so it’s ready for James the painter to work his magic while we’re away in France later this month. He’s doing Martyn’s study and the sitooterie while he’s at it, so we’re doing quite a lot of clearing out at the moment! We have a growing pile of stuff to take to the charity shop, and have freecycled one of his bookcases and some computer bits and pieces. I need to tackle the cupboards in the sitooterie: they are full of crockery and glass that we never use, so I think quite a lot of it will be heading down the road ere long.
The garden is in fine form: the roses have started to flower, and old favourites like the irises, cistus and thrift are doing very well. The potatoes have a luxuriant canopy of leaves, and the runner beans are reaching the top of their frame. The dwarf French beans are sulking a bit: the big-name supplier’s seeds have done next to nothing, whereas those from a long-open packet from Fortnums are looking altogether stronger.
On Friday, having finished breakfast, I was sitting around in my dressing gown, tapping away at the iPad. At one point it occurred to me to check my hobby email account, and found a reminder to change my password for the common platform that contains the rota and suchlike. Having duly complied, I took a quick dip into the rota, only to find that I was due in that very day. I’d plainly failed to copy the sitting into my calendar. Well, I was showered, dressed and out the door with the speed of a fleeing adulterer, and was on parade only twenty minutes late. Needless to say I have double-checked and fortunately found no other errors or omissions!
Thursday, 16 May 2019
Work in progress
We’d been hoping to get the cloakroom joinery and tiling finished last weekend, but unfortunately our man was not feeling well. Waiting for news. There’s still a month to get it finished before James the painter comes in. Never stops, does it, this home maintenance? Meanwhile, while I was was engaged in my hobby on Monday, Martyn did the long overdue sanding down of the threshold between the dining room and the sitooterie, and I slapped on a few coats of varnish yesterday. Remains to brush in another dose of ant killer, just in case, and then run in some silicone mastic. (I am full of admiration for the ant, inspired, I suppose, by scripture and La Fontaine, but they ain’t welcome in my living quarters.)
Things are moving forward in the garden. Dwarf French beans are germinating at last, the runner beans are tentatively approaching their poles and the spuds are reaching the tops of their bags. We’ll need a trip to the stores this weekend for more compost. Someone once remarked that we probably spend more in growing medium than we would buying new spuds from the shop. Doubtless true, but our charlottes taste better than anything shop-bought, and the spent compost improves the texture of our awful clay soil (even if this occasionally leads to an uninvited spud amongst the roses!)
In the flowering department, a few perennials and over-wintered annuals are starting to flower: cistus pulverulens and purpureus, eschscholzia californica, helianthemums and much else. I sowed seeds yesterday of basil and pulsatilla vulgaris: the latter harvested a few days ago and dried on the sitooterie window ledge, the former bought from Fortnums. We shall see: as we always say, they’ll do one thing or the other. Despite sporadic bursts of planting, there remain hosts of bedding plants to put out. Mañana. Talvez.
We took a ride up to London on Tuesday for drinks with an institution that hopes to inherit from us. Very interesting, candid, if opinionated speech from a former top diplomat (with whom we agreed) about the little local political difficulty. But the walking involved was a bit much for a first outing since Martyn’s recent health event - particularly since he’d overdone the housework and DIY the day before while I was out to play at the hobby. I am looking on eBay for a ball and chain.
Things are moving forward in the garden. Dwarf French beans are germinating at last, the runner beans are tentatively approaching their poles and the spuds are reaching the tops of their bags. We’ll need a trip to the stores this weekend for more compost. Someone once remarked that we probably spend more in growing medium than we would buying new spuds from the shop. Doubtless true, but our charlottes taste better than anything shop-bought, and the spent compost improves the texture of our awful clay soil (even if this occasionally leads to an uninvited spud amongst the roses!)
In the flowering department, a few perennials and over-wintered annuals are starting to flower: cistus pulverulens and purpureus, eschscholzia californica, helianthemums and much else. I sowed seeds yesterday of basil and pulsatilla vulgaris: the latter harvested a few days ago and dried on the sitooterie window ledge, the former bought from Fortnums. We shall see: as we always say, they’ll do one thing or the other. Despite sporadic bursts of planting, there remain hosts of bedding plants to put out. Mañana. Talvez.
We took a ride up to London on Tuesday for drinks with an institution that hopes to inherit from us. Very interesting, candid, if opinionated speech from a former top diplomat (with whom we agreed) about the little local political difficulty. But the walking involved was a bit much for a first outing since Martyn’s recent health event - particularly since he’d overdone the housework and DIY the day before while I was out to play at the hobby. I am looking on eBay for a ball and chain.
Saturday, 4 May 2019
April showers. In May.
And none so chilly for the Tories as their local election results, notably in these parts. The main local issue is the Council’s plan to redevelop the town hall and Assembly Hall site, and build new offices and a fixed seating theatre down by the station. This would involve borrowing £77M, the debt serviced by cuts in local services and grants. One rumour is that the Council leader (and more of him anon) wanted a theatre that could handle a performance of 42nd Street. Well, we’ve been to excellent performances of Chicago, Cabaret, the Sound of Music and much else at the Assembly Hall, on which millions have only recently been spent on carpeting, upholstery and decoration. In any case, we can soon hop on a train to the West End. A major asset of the old Hall is that it can be adapted quickly from tiered seating to a large flat floor - ironically enough, the scene yesterday of the counting of votes in the local elections.
This crazy vanity project is supposed to bring money to the borough in the form of tourist revenues and business rates: the arguments are a bit nebulous. Its inherent madness has led to the formation of a new political grouping, which I’ll nickname the Disgustedville Alliance. It made significant gains on Thursday. When we went to vote, we found only three names on the ballot paper: a Lib Dem, a Tory (the current Council leader) and an Alliance candidate. To our surprise, our usually highly Selfservative ward voted in droves for the Alliance candidate, ousting the Council leader by a fat majority. I think the pattern elsewhere in the country was a richly deserved thrashing of both Labour and Tory parties for their lamentable handling of the EU exit issue. (I struggle to utter the B word.). But local issues may have played a part elsewhere too.
Social media: we recently had a couple of new WCs and a basin installed, having first researched products on line. Now, every time we log in, we get adverts for miscellaneous sanitary ware. How many chiottes do these jokers think we can accommodate? Outdoors, after several failed attempts to contact the importers of our lawnmower to order the necessary parts, I resorted to the egregious Mr Bedos, and soon found supplies, got them within 72 hours and fitted them yesterday. Should make the chore a little easier. But I imagine my screen will be full of lawnmower spares adverts in coming months.
Here on cultive son jardin. Martyn is well, and coping fine with the new medications. We saw our lovely new doctor last week, and she was pleased with his blood pressure. I’ve had the periodical review of my prescriptions following a blood test, and gather that my machinery too is functioning pretty well.
Out in the garden, the cosmos are settling in and flowering well, the antirrhinums are slowly acclimatising and I’ve planted up the patio brazier with pelargoniums and lobelias. The spuds will need earthing up ere long, and the runner beans are looking pretty healthy. The French beans have yet to germinate, perhaps discouraged by the fluctuations in temperature and rainfall. As we always say of horticulture hereabouts, they’ll do either one thing or the other.
This crazy vanity project is supposed to bring money to the borough in the form of tourist revenues and business rates: the arguments are a bit nebulous. Its inherent madness has led to the formation of a new political grouping, which I’ll nickname the Disgustedville Alliance. It made significant gains on Thursday. When we went to vote, we found only three names on the ballot paper: a Lib Dem, a Tory (the current Council leader) and an Alliance candidate. To our surprise, our usually highly Selfservative ward voted in droves for the Alliance candidate, ousting the Council leader by a fat majority. I think the pattern elsewhere in the country was a richly deserved thrashing of both Labour and Tory parties for their lamentable handling of the EU exit issue. (I struggle to utter the B word.). But local issues may have played a part elsewhere too.
Social media: we recently had a couple of new WCs and a basin installed, having first researched products on line. Now, every time we log in, we get adverts for miscellaneous sanitary ware. How many chiottes do these jokers think we can accommodate? Outdoors, after several failed attempts to contact the importers of our lawnmower to order the necessary parts, I resorted to the egregious Mr Bedos, and soon found supplies, got them within 72 hours and fitted them yesterday. Should make the chore a little easier. But I imagine my screen will be full of lawnmower spares adverts in coming months.
Here on cultive son jardin. Martyn is well, and coping fine with the new medications. We saw our lovely new doctor last week, and she was pleased with his blood pressure. I’ve had the periodical review of my prescriptions following a blood test, and gather that my machinery too is functioning pretty well.
Out in the garden, the cosmos are settling in and flowering well, the antirrhinums are slowly acclimatising and I’ve planted up the patio brazier with pelargoniums and lobelias. The spuds will need earthing up ere long, and the runner beans are looking pretty healthy. The French beans have yet to germinate, perhaps discouraged by the fluctuations in temperature and rainfall. As we always say of horticulture hereabouts, they’ll do either one thing or the other.
Wednesday, 24 April 2019
Progress
Martyn had a go at the piano yesterday, and though he’s conscious of some left arm weakness, his fingers were doing what they were told. A great relief to us both. We’re keeping an eye on his blood pressure, which is consistent and reasonable.
Progress also in the garden: the spuds are planted and starting to shoot through the surface of the compost, and the runner beans are planted and growing well. I’ll perhaps start some dwarf French beans in pots today or tomorrow. Some of the bedding plants are planted or given away, and the rest are hardening off outdoors. The pelargonium cuttings are almost ready to plant, to replace the primulas in the basket at the front door: they are still flowering, but will be due for replacement soon. The roses are growing like mad, but the greenfly are back, so I’ve been round with the spray bottle. The recent warm weather has really got things going in the garden, including an uninvited beech tree, which has suddenly burst into leaf. I’m rather fond of it, but recognise that it’ll eventually have to go before it gets too big.
Progress also in the garden: the spuds are planted and starting to shoot through the surface of the compost, and the runner beans are planted and growing well. I’ll perhaps start some dwarf French beans in pots today or tomorrow. Some of the bedding plants are planted or given away, and the rest are hardening off outdoors. The pelargonium cuttings are almost ready to plant, to replace the primulas in the basket at the front door: they are still flowering, but will be due for replacement soon. The roses are growing like mad, but the greenfly are back, so I’ve been round with the spray bottle. The recent warm weather has really got things going in the garden, including an uninvited beech tree, which has suddenly burst into leaf. I’m rather fond of it, but recognise that it’ll eventually have to go before it gets too big.
Tuesday, 16 April 2019
Bulletin from Forges-l’Evêque
On Friday, Martyn awoke with some symptoms consistent with his having had a TIA in his sleep. No crooked smile, no slurring, no trouble holding both arms up, but trouble getting his left hand to type or play what it was told. NHS 111 ran through the usual diagnostics, and advised seeing the doctor within the hour. The doctor had gone to lunch, and we got an appointment for a couple of hours later. The doctor rang back within minutes, asked a few questions and dispatched us to A&E. Cutting a long story short, we spent over five hours at the hospital, where he was thoroughly assessed and scanned, then discharged, told to take aspirin and a blood pressure pill, and referred to the TIA clinic. First thing on Monday, the hospital rang, calling him in for a 10:30 appointment. We were there for just under three hours, during which Martyn had a preliminary consultation, an MRI, an ultrasound examination of the blood vessels in his neck, an ECG, a blood pressure check and a talk with a consultant.
It transpires that he has had a small stroke. Although he is a bit shaken by the turn of events (moi aussi, d’ailleurs...), he seems to be functioning perfectly well, with only some very slight weakness on his left side. He seems to be using his computer keyboard normally - problems in that respect were among the first signs of trouble on Friday - but I think he’s reluctant to try the piano for the moment.
We have nothing but praise for the way the NHS swung into action. True, there was a bit of hanging around in A&E: thank goodness we didn’t arrive six hours later, it being Friday pm. The hospital’s free Wifie allowed us to watch some of Martyn’s favourite TV programmes on the iPad while we waited, and that was a great help to us both.
If there’s one criticism, it’s that the prescription he was given on Friday could only be dispensed by the hospital pharmacy, which by then was closed to outpatients until Monday morning. Fortunately, the blood pressure prescription is identical to mine, so we could get him going on that straight away. The hospital gave him a first dose of aspirin, and the local chemist fixed us up next day with dispersable aspirin for the princely sum of 55p. Parking at the hospital has made a small dent in the housekeeping, but that’s a small price to pay.
If there’s one criticism, it’s that the prescription he was given on Friday could only be dispensed by the hospital pharmacy, which by then was closed to outpatients until Monday morning. Fortunately, the blood pressure prescription is identical to mine, so we could get him going on that straight away. The hospital gave him a first dose of aspirin, and the local chemist fixed us up next day with dispersable aspirin for the princely sum of 55p. Parking at the hospital has made a small dent in the housekeeping, but that’s a small price to pay.
Reducing the blood pressure is now the priority, and he has also been prescribed a statin, again identical to my prescription, but this time provided by the hospital on the day. We are reviewing the diet, and in due course will step up the exercise.
Saturday, 6 April 2019
Couple of good trips out
A week past Friday, a fine, warm day, I suggested on the spur of the moment a visit to Sissinghurst Castle gardens, where we hadn’t been for rather too long. Well, they seem to be coping despite our neglect. The daffodils were going over, of course, but there were lots of fritillaries and pulsatilla in flower in the lime walk, and plenty of primulas. From there we headed down to Hythe for lunch looking out over the sparkling sea, and then ambled back gently across country.
We should be grabbing such fine days to do a spot of gardening at home, of course, but the weather has turned chilly, windy and wet - even with some hail showers. The weeds are growing vigorously under last year’s new plantings by the landscapers, so we’ll need to get on with that pretty soon. I’m struggling to find containers and space for all the seedlings in the sitooterie, and have had to move the pelargoniums to the cold frame to make room for the squillions of antirrhinum and other seedlings.
Yesterday we went with the U3A bird watching group to the London Wetlands Centre at Barnes. A wonderful place, well provided with paved paths (made, evidently, from crushed concrete from the old Barn Elms reservoirs) and excellent hides. We saw all sorts of waterfowl and waders, plus dozens of sand martins, a few jackdaws and even a snipe or two. The journey was quite convoluted: we had opted for our little country station where there’s free parking, and whence fares are substantially lower. Two changes and a bus ride later (and guess which old fool forgot to check that he had his bus pass in his wallet?), we were there soon after the mainliners. All the connexions worked well and quickly there and back, and the various changes provided much needed exercise.
I’ve had, I hope, the last of my two-yearly appraisals at the hobby, since I retire 15 months hence - if I’m spared. It seems to have gone OK, but of course I have to wait for it to be signed off by the appropriate committee.
Our travel plans being a shade less extravagant this year, we’re planning a spot of household maintenance. Two of the WCs need replacement, and we’ll take the opportunity to put in a new basin with a cupboard under it in the cloakroom. Two of the tradesmen are lined up, but it occurs to us that we also need to finalise a list of jobs for the sparky. Oh well, no pockets in shrouds.
We should be grabbing such fine days to do a spot of gardening at home, of course, but the weather has turned chilly, windy and wet - even with some hail showers. The weeds are growing vigorously under last year’s new plantings by the landscapers, so we’ll need to get on with that pretty soon. I’m struggling to find containers and space for all the seedlings in the sitooterie, and have had to move the pelargoniums to the cold frame to make room for the squillions of antirrhinum and other seedlings.
Yesterday we went with the U3A bird watching group to the London Wetlands Centre at Barnes. A wonderful place, well provided with paved paths (made, evidently, from crushed concrete from the old Barn Elms reservoirs) and excellent hides. We saw all sorts of waterfowl and waders, plus dozens of sand martins, a few jackdaws and even a snipe or two. The journey was quite convoluted: we had opted for our little country station where there’s free parking, and whence fares are substantially lower. Two changes and a bus ride later (and guess which old fool forgot to check that he had his bus pass in his wallet?), we were there soon after the mainliners. All the connexions worked well and quickly there and back, and the various changes provided much needed exercise.
I’ve had, I hope, the last of my two-yearly appraisals at the hobby, since I retire 15 months hence - if I’m spared. It seems to have gone OK, but of course I have to wait for it to be signed off by the appropriate committee.
Our travel plans being a shade less extravagant this year, we’re planning a spot of household maintenance. Two of the WCs need replacement, and we’ll take the opportunity to put in a new basin with a cupboard under it in the cloakroom. Two of the tradesmen are lined up, but it occurs to us that we also need to finalise a list of jobs for the sparky. Oh well, no pockets in shrouds.
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