20 May 2024 (Monday) - Hospital, Shopping

I woke rather early, made toast and as I scoffed it I started something new on Netflix. “Catastrophe” is a comedy in which some woman gets pregnant off of some American. The first episode seemed rather good.

I then found myself engrossed in an advert for a pressure washer which runs from a battery and a bucket of water. Much as I like my pressure washer, it is a faff running out the cable and the hose. Battery and bucket might be the way forward, but the reviews on Amazon made me laugh. Several people giving it a glowing write-up openly admitted they hadn’t used the thing; they’d bought it because the adverts looked good.

I sent out birthday wishes, loaded the washing machine and got ready for the morning.

 

This morning I had an appointment at CPAP department the local hospital. I turned up at the hospital’s reception desk and asked where I had to go. The chap behind the counter glared at me, reached under the counter, pulled out a sign saying they opened in twenty minutes’ time and turned back to what he was doing. I went and had a cuppa and came back twenty minutes later. The same chap took one look at me, was all smiles, and before I could say anything he announced that I had a CPAP machine in the bag I was carrying and told me where the clinic was. I remarked that it was a shame he couldn’t have been that helpful twenty minutes earlier, and walked off leaving him looking rather nonplussed.

 I went to the CPAP machine clinic where the respiratory technician took the old machine from me, and talked me through how to operate the new one they were giving me. New one? Watching the old one go was like saying goodbye to an old friend. No one had told me that I was getting a new one.

Whilst I was there I asked about a follow-up appointment with the sleep clinic. The person who phoned to arrange this morning’s appointment with the CPAP clinic assured me that the chap at the CPAP clinic could arrange a sleep clinic appointment.

The chap at the CPAP clinic assured me he could not.

With that appointment done I walked round to the ENT clinic; I’ve got a nasal re-bore booked at Canterbury at the end of June. When I saw the surgeon a few months ago the surgeon assured me that he would operate at Ashford as that would be more convenient for me. The person who arranged the date of surgery was crystal clear that the surgeon doesn’t do surgery in Ashford. The people at the ENT clinic this morning assure me he regularly does surgery in Ashford.

Getting a lift to Canterbury for 7am, and then a lift home again in the late afternoon would be rather problematical.

I’ve put in a formal complaint, and resisted making the observation that with one hundred and twenty NHS Trusts in the country I am accustomed to working only one step from the top,  and perhaps those in position one hundred and five might learn from them

 

I came home, hung the washing out and put more in to scrub, then took the dogs to the woods. We had a good wander round the woods. It all passed off rather uneventfully which is always a good thing.

An hour and three and a half miles later we were back at the car. We came home and hung out more washing. I sorted cuppa and cake for me and “er indoors ^TM”, then went on a little mission. Having acquired a little bath for the expanded bog filter I needed to attach a water outlet. I got the attachment I needed (and some fat balls and gecko ornaments too) but the garden centre didn’t have any O-rings. Without O-rings I might get a leak. The lad in Wickes had never heard of O-rings. Screwfix and Toolstation didn’t have any big enough, neither did the two hardware shops at the market. Grudgingly I tried B&Q. They had what I needed, but weren’t as helpful as they might be. Normally I wouldn’t shop there, but needs must. As I used the self-service checkout the thing gave me a message that staff carry out random checks on shoppers. As I walked out so a member of their staff walked up to me. I told him that if he wanted to check my shopping he’d had his chance when I was at the checkout. If they are going to expect customers to operate the till themselves they have to expect customers to take the opportunity to pocket what they can. The chap pissed off without comment. As well he should.

 

I came home, had a spot of lunch then had the genius idea that the little bath will need a flat surface on which to sit. Five minutes on the Internet came up with what I needed, so I set off again.

I drove down to the garden centre in Bethersden, got the slabs and one or two other odds and sods and completely forgot what happened the last time I bought that sort of garden slab. The edges are very sharp, and I cut my hand open.

Once the bleeding stopped I knacked my back getting the slabs into the car, and once home knacked it further getting the slabs into the back garden.

 

I watered the plants, and called a halt to doing things today. A trip to the hospital, a dog walk, some shopping and I’d walked sixteen thousand steps and done my back.

Today’s plan had been to wash the new bathtub, and that is still on the to-do list…

19 May 2024 (Sunday) - Littlun Stayed Over

I slept rather well last night. With “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs up in the attic room with littlun I didn’t have to spent the night fighting for bed space. I had one or two vivid dreams about my time at the Open University summer schools thirty years ago when I made some rather good friends… and what with there being no social media other than knowing someone’s phone number in those days, I’ve lost touch with all of them. We had some good times; I wonder what happened to them all.

 

There was a minor commotion as everyone got up. “er indoors ^TM” had spotted a tick on Bailey’s head. So while “Darcie Waa Waa ^TM” ran riot we got the thing out of her, and put the tick collars onto all the dogs. We’ve had the collars for a couple of weeks; this prompted us to put the things on to them. Did the tick come from the deer at Kings Wood? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there Friday. She *might* have got it from paddock at Dog Club. The grass is getting rather long there and she’s rather low-down….

 

As littlun ran riot so I escaped to the garden. Both pond filters were running slowly so I cleaned them out. I did it slightly differently this time… I’d had a stroke of genius. Rather then running the waste hose from the big pond filter to the drain I ran it to the monkey-puzzle tree. Instead of pouring the fishy fertilizer to waste I thought it might do the tree some good. And then once I’d cleaned out the filter in the little pond I used the water from that cleaning to slosh away any residue round the tree.

I shall watch that tree for a day or so to see if it perks up or croaks.

Talking of croaking, my cordyline isn’t looking very good. Mind you it’s not looked good for some time. I took off the manky-looking leaves. Perhaps I pruned it a tad too vigorously? Time will tell; it always does.

 

“My Boy ^TM” and Cheryl came to visit littlun; they stayed for a while. It was good to catch up. I outlined my plans for expanding the bog filter. The first fruit of my loins seemed to agree with my thinking.

They set off, and littlun spent quite a while warning the world about the monster that (apparently) lives in the shed. I didn’t know there was a monster in there. One lives and learns.

 

We loaded up ourselves and littlun and the dogs and took her home. “Daddy’s Little Angel ^TM” had set up a paddling pool for littlun, so knowing the dogs would jump in and tear it with their claws we took them off for a little walk up the Leas. An ice cream would have been nice… we found a little kiosk selling ice creams. The tribe in front of me in the queue waited until they were at the counter before even looking at the choices, and then couldn’t decide. Father chose for them, and that started an argument. Add to that the woman behind the till was worse than useless; every ice cream she prepared was as though it was her first. Which flavour is which? Where are the cones? Where is the scoop? Sticking ice cream into a cone should have taken her ten to fifteen seconds’ it was taking two to three minutes. We walked away; life is too short to waste like that. We walked up to the bandstand and back, and saw the queue at the kiosk growing and growing. A shame really; there was no need for a queue. If that were my kiosk I’d employ people who could actually do the job.

 

Just as I got home so my phone beeped. “My Boy ^TM” had found a decent second-hand bath on Facebook Marketplace for fifteen quid. A couple of messages, a little drive, and I’ve got the first part of the expanded bog filter.

Result!!

 

What with all the excitement of having had littlun to stay, time was pressing on, so “er indoors ^TM” popped up the road to the kebab shop for dinner. We scoffed kebabs whilst watching more “Taskmaster”. I like kebab… but this one isn’t sitting very well.

18 May 2024 (Saturday) - Before the Late Shift

As I peered into Facebook I saw the spring break holiday season had started. Several friends were off here and there. That’s why I like Facebook; I’m very nosey.

There were a couple of posts that made me chuckle. Someone was after contact details of a celebrity footballer who lived locally; they were hoping to involve him in a charity event they were organizing. This chap’s nephews and niece went to the scout group I used to be involved with. I lost count of the amount of times we were promised an appearance from this chap at fundraisers and special events over many years. We never once saw him.

A kite-flying friend had the hump because he was expected to cover for a colleague “who had been taken seriously ill with a case of it is Friday afternoon and the sun is shining” (to quote him verbatim).

A colleague was very proud because her son had been announced “Boy of the Year” at Boys Brigade. I’ve warned her about Boys Brigade before. It is great fun, the boys (and girls!) have all sorts of adventures and activities, but all the time slowly and insidiously religious claptrap is being forced onto them without their realizing. There really should be a law against brainwashing children in that way…

I saw four Facebook friends were having birthdays today. I sent birthday wishes to the ones I am vaguely in touch with, and wondered who one of them was. Presumably from the mutual friends we have I must have met her whilst working in Canterbury. But I don’t remember her at all.

And I saw our Munzee Clan had reached Level Three.

 

I went upstairs and woke “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs, and then spent a few minutes browsing Facebook marketplace for old baths. I soon found myself looking at a new (different) car. Much as I like my car, I miss my old Espace. I could fit so much into it. If I do find a cheapo bathtub, getting it home will mean hiring a van. Back in the day I could fit everything into my old Espace.

 

Being Saturday morning we drove round to Dog Club. Attendance was down a tad with some of the usual suspects on holiday. Apart from one little spat early on, all went well. It usually does.

Some people turned up just as we were leaving; we stayed with them until the next group arrived, and so having failed totally on Steve’s “guess the lyrics” contest on the radio on the way there, we missed the mystery year contest on the way home. However I was given a question… When did Princess Diana die? 1997. I remember it distinctly. It was a Saturday night when I was working.

 

We came home, had a cuppa, and I counted up the money in the Dog Club pot. We ask for one pound fifty pence per session per dog… how on Earth did I end up with a spare nineteen pence?

Then leaving “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs, I set off.

 

I went to work via Willesborough. During last week someone on one of the Facebook pond forums asked if anyone lived in Ashford as he would like some advice. Needless to say the keyboard warriors were out in force offering sarcasm, but it turned out the chap only lived a couple of miles away. I said to him that I was no expert but would come and have a chat if he liked.

The bloke has a rather good pond; far bigger than mine. It isn't very old though, and the water is rather murky. I think the chap has the same issue that I've had for years - too much light and no plants making use of it. I've come to the conclusion that a garden pond will always have a certain amount of photosynthetic life in it, and if you don't stick in ornamental plants yourself, the pond will grow green algae of its own. Which is why I've set up the bog filter, and am looking to expand it. I suggested he might build one. Or two. He's got space to build two rather big bog filters and make something of a garden feature out of them. I got rather enthusiastic as I spoke about what I would do if it were my pond. In retrospect I might have been a tad too enthusiastic; what I had in mind is rather ambitious and would cost several thousand pounds to do. But looking at his garden the chap seems to be rather good with his hands. I hope he does build a couple of bog filters; they would look good. I hope he sends me photos of when they are done too.

 

From Willesborough I went on to the late shift. I'd rather not work weekends; I'd rather not work at all. I suppose I've got a decision to make. My pension money covers my expenses and gives me a little over too. Working gives me money to squander on ponds and garden and second hand bath tubs. Is having the extra money worth the effort of doing the work? For now I shall continue, but if I have many more shifts like today’s I won’t be continuing for much longer.

 

I came home to find the house in silence. No one dared make a sound. “Darcie Waa Waa ^TM” is having a sleepover and “er indoors ^TM” had got her settled. Heaven help anyone who wakes her.

I wonder how long she will stay settled before the dog snogging starts.

17 May 2024 (Friday) - Busy, Busy

Having had no alarms set and having slept well for two nights I had an alarm set last night. I had two hours sleep then lay awake. I gave up trying to sleep at four o’clock, made toast and watched more episodes of “Missions”. Despite having been left for dead five years previously our heroine turned up in a hippy commune somewhere in medieval France, then sent psychic messages to all her old crewmates that she was still alive on Mars.

I sparked up the Internet and had a look at the morning’s arguments on Facebook. On the official Sparks Facebook page people were being accused of “gatekeeping”; an insult used by people who have recently discovered something when they are referring to anyone who has been aware of that something for longer than they have. The assumption is made (usually wrongly) that whoever has been aware of that something the longest is somehow claiming it for their own. I've found it's a good idea not to mention that you've been a Sparks fan since 1974. Just saying that makes you a "gatekeeper" in some people's eyes. And it’s not just Sparks fandom but on all sorts of Facebook pages. Dogs, garden ponds, kite flying, Star Trek...there is a small but very vocal minority who resent that anyone has found their favourite thing before they have.

There was also a squabble about the Eurostar not stopping in Ashford any more. A chap I know who lives in Littlehampton (!) was trying to get people to sign a petition to get the thing to call at the Ashford railway station like it used to. I must admit I’d like the option to walk up the road and hop on a train to Europe. But in all the years the service was there, I only did it once. And that was when work was paying.

I sent out birthday wishes, and got ready for work.

 

As I drove I turned on the radio. It wouldn't turn on; instead it wanted to play my MP3 collection. It does that from time to time. When I found somewhere to stop I stopped, turned everything off, got out, locked the door and waited for a minute before setting off again. That usually fixes whatever is wrong with the radio. I logged the issue with the warranty people over a year ago, but they never got back to me about it.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking politics. Sir Kier Starmer had made some speech yesterday promising shit was sugar. This morning the Chancellor of the Exchequer was making some speech promising that shit would only be sugar if the Labour party put taxes up enough.

These politicians are all as bad as each other…

 

I got to work rather early, and went into the canteen and had the breakfast. It looked a lot better than it actually was. Periodically I have the breakfast, and usually end up wishing I hadn't.

I had a guts ache which lasted all morning.

I'd been asked to go in this morning to do some extra hours as work was a tad short-handed today. I don't mind doing a little extra; it's always good to be up on hours. I’d been asked to do one specific job. I’d done that in just over an hour. I did something else for a bit, and with that done I was at a bit of a loose end so I came home a tad earlier than planned. With some time spare I had a sudden idea that I might come home via Hastings and see my mum… and then I remembered.

I took the usual route home down the motorway and was home before half past eleven.

 

I collected the dogs and we went to the woods for a walk. When I was just over half-way there I realized I’d left my phone at home. Back in the day I never had a mobile phone. I made do without one for years. I didn’t need it, and there’s hardly any signal in the woods anyway. I considered going back for it but decided to carry on. And spent the rest of the drive, the walk and the drive home imagining all sorts of emergencies and scenarios which would have been utterly disastrous without a mobile phone.

Needless to say none of them happened.

 

We came home. I picked up my mobile and popped it in my pocket. And then cracked on in the garden for a bit. The lawn needed mowing, and the sweet pea seedlings needed to go into the planter. As I planted I saw a little slow worm… well, a relatively big one under one of the garden sleepers. He’s lost his tail, so I covered him over to give him some shelter. I wonder how he lost his tail; I hope the dogs haven’t been bothering him.

I then had a little pootle round the garden, and as I did I formulated a plan. Photos taken this time last year showed the pond was on the green side. That was before the plants went in. The plants are clearly combatting the algae, so if I was to expand the bog filter I could have the pond clearer for longer. What I need is another filter behind the existing one. If I could get hold of an old bath tub, that might do the trick. If any of my loyal reader have an old bath tub they don’t want…

 

I made a cuppa and sat by the pond. And despite the BBC’s weather forecast only giving a ten per cent chance of rain it started hossing down. So I came inside, settled on the sofa and woke over an hour later.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Taskmaster”. Having got up so early, been to work, done four miles round the woods and then a couple of hours gardening I’m worn out.

16 May 2024 (Thursday) - Rainy Day

As I scoffed toast and peered into the Internet I rolled my eyes. One of my colleagues had posted a photo of a Costa cup in the lab and had commented “working eleven days in a row. I live at work, I just go home to sleep.” Many friends, other colleagues and managers had clicked the “like” button… Where I used to work I once got a formal disciplinary warning for posting a selfie at six o’clock and commenting that I was tired.

How things change.

With little else happening on-line I filled out an on-line request form to see my GP. My left knee is becoming a worry. I can and do walk miles with no problems, but having walked miles with no problems I get excruciating pain from the knee when I then get into the car. Getting up and down hurts, and all the kneeling about when gardening is very painful. Back in the day you would just go to Dr Mitchell’s house, sit in his front room and wait to be called to see him. These days things are rather different. I filled out the on-line form, and thought about a dog walk. Sadly the rain was hossing down, and was forecast to do so all day. So I got dressed, and we went for our walk anyway.

 

After navigating some rather busy roads we got to Kings Wood. The car park was rather empty. Not surprising really bearing in mind the rain. We walked a shorter route than usual, but when we got back to the car my watch still said we’d covered a couple of miles.

As we got to the car so some thug was parking in a white van. I opened the car’s boot and said “Boot Dogs” to indicate to the pups that they should jump in (not that Bailey can manage it). “You What?!” announced the thug in a rather threatening manner. I explained about “Boot Dogs” being the command to get them into the boot; he didn’t look convinced. I then did my whistle and gave the dogs a treat (to reinforce the whole coming to the sound of a whistle) and the thug took offence at that too.

We came home via the petrol station where I picked up cakes, and had another episode. I drove down the road, indicated, slowed down and pulled up in the end of the parking bay. The idiot in the car behind who had been following far too closely behind had also pulled in behind me. When he saw me getting out he flew back, then flew forward, wound down his window and demanded to know that the f… I was playing at. I rather took the wind out of his sails by telling him I was parking my car.

I wish I could get rid of my idiot magnet.

 

I showered the mud from the dogs, put some shirts in to wash, made us both a cuppa, and dished out the cakes. Whilst “er indoors ^TM” had a meeting I cracked on with some CPD. If you look on-line there are many atlases of haematology; websites showing all sorts of weird and wonderful things you see down the microscope. Some are rather obscure and you rarely if ever see these things outside of an atlas. Years ago I started one of my own. It’s nothing special, the photos are rather dreadful, but it is all stuff that I have seen myself. You can see the atlas by clicking here (if you feel so inclined).

I spent a little while this morning updating it with things I’ve seen over the last couple of months. At the risk of getting technical, those things were basophilic stippling, Howell Jolly bodies, May-Hegglin anomalies and mitotic figures.

 

And then the washing machine finished so I cracked on with the ironing. As I ironed I watched something on Netflix. “Masterminds” was a rather good film. 

And then I saw the postman had been. He’d delivered a payslip… I say “payslip”; the pension equivalent of a payslip. The sort of thing the pension people assured me I wouldn’t get (!) I then spent an age poring over my monthly accounts trying to figure out why I had been paid hundreds of pounds less than I thought I should be… eventually I remembered I’d halved my working hours. Dur!

And then my phone beeped with a message. The GP can’t examine my knee remotely and needs me to turn up so’s he can give it the once-over. An appointment is booked for next week.

And then my phone beeped again. Yet another friend request on Facebook trying to peddle porn websites.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up sausages and chips which we scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Taskmaster” and then an episode of “Stacey Dooley Sleeps Over” in which Stacey was staying with a trans couple in America. They were… different. But then isn’t everyone?

I’ve had a couple of days not at work in which I wasn’t running myself ragged in the garden, and I’m not in pain. Perhaps I have been overdoing it?

15 May 2024 (Wednesday) - DNFs

With no alarm set I slept like a log eventually waking to the sound of Treacle having a sneezing fit just before eight o’clock. I made toast and had a look at the Internet.

 

Yesterday I saw a comment on my old primary school’s Facebook page from a name I recognized. I sent a friend request, and now I’m in touch with another of the old gang.  “Nobby” was in my first class at primary school. We were at school together from that first day in September 1969 up until I packed up with school eleven years later. We were great mates; often going fishing together. We were both in the Boys Brigade; albeit in different groups. And bearing in mind what the Boys Brigade is all about it’s not surprising that he’s ended up being one of the leading lights of the happy-clappy church where he now lives. One of the main things putting me off organizing a reunion of the old gang is that so many of them are now very religious, and I am not.

 

With “er indoors ^TM” in the office today she set off leaving us home alone. I set the washing machine going and took the dogs up to the woods. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the government’s plans to ban all forms of sex education for the under-nines. Various experts and windbags were wheeled on; it would seem that there’s quite a variety of opinion as to what the phrase “sex education” actually means. It’s not just the mechanics of doing the dirty deed; it’s who or what you want to do the dirty deed with, at or on. And what you consider yourself to be whilst doing it.

It's all a bit of a minefield really; I’m best off not getting involved.

 

We got to the Kings Wood and went on a rather longer walk than usual. At the weekend some German chap hurried round the woods as fast as he could seeing how many geocaches he could find. Bearing in mind there’s over a hundred he rather rushed and logged quite a few (ten) “Did Not Find” logs. I always check on those just in case the thing really is missing… Two were missing. I replaced them. The chap also logged that one was broken. I replaced it. He could have replaced it; I carry replacement pots just so I can do running repairs. You can replace a broken pot quicker than you can log that there is an issue.

As we walked I heard a loud bell. Some woman had attached a loud bell to her dogs so that she could hear where they were. We met her just as Morgan and Bailey had wandered off. I mentioned that they had gone walkabout. Immediately the woman pointed over my shoulder and said “what cute dogs”. I said that would be mine. “I don’t think so” she said. I turned to see Morgan and Bailey, and then had a rather surreal conversation with this woman who had never encountered anyone with multiple dogs that look different to each other.

I thought it best to gloss over Morgan and Bailey being from the same litter.

 

We came home for a bath. Well, the girls needed a scrub. Treacle had been belly-deep in the mud and Bailey had rolled in something foul. Morgan was rather clean, but he jumped in the bath anyway.

With dogs scrubbed I hung out the washing; the morning’s drizzle had given way to a bright afternoon. I thought about pootling in the garden, but contented myself with harvesting the dog turds. I then had a go at Bailey with the trimmers I use on my own head. I think she looks a bit tidier now. Amazingly she didn’t fight; she seemed to take being sheared rather well. I expected “er indoors ^TM” would take one look and lay an egg. But she came home, scoffed the dinner I’d boiled up and didn’t seem to notice.

 

As we scoffed dinner we watched the second episode of the new season of Doctor Who. After yesterday’s rather dull episode, this evening’s one was perhaps the best episode of Doctor Who for years.

Let’s hope this continues.

14 May 2024 (Tuesday) - Another Day at Work

Having every intention of an early night last night I fell asleep in front of the telly and woke shortly after elven o’clock. I went to bed and slept through till ten past three and lay awake until I finally gave up trying to sleep.

I made toast and watched another episode of “Missions” in which the ghost of Mars took over our heroes’ spaceship, and now looks set to chum up with the space pirates from NASA.

Did I mention this French TV show seems to have lost something in translation?

 

I had a quick look at the Internet. It was much the same as ever, so I got ready for the off. It was raining as I walked to my car. As I'd parked a little way away I thought I might do my daily Munzee stroll in which a magical unicorn gambols up the road scattering magical stars as it goes (there's no mucking about in Munzee). I set Cappy the magical unicorn going, and it pissed off in entirely the wrong direction.

So much for that idea.

 

I got to the car and set off to work. As I drove there was talk about Parliament trying to sort itself out. there was a vote last night in which it had been suggested that the merest hint of scandal should be enough to have MPs banned from the House of Commons.

Fortunately that plan was scuppered; MPs have to be formally arrested before getting hoiked out. But the vote was close; only one vote in it.

But can you imagine the chaos in a system by which any hint of scandal gets MPs banned? That was tried with great success by Titus Oates four hundred years ago when he put the skids under every political enemy he had. Titus soon found that the mere hint of impropriety was enough to have his rivals removed from power and stuffed up for life.

I'm reminded of my days in the Scout Association. Before the CRB checks on new leaders came in, the Scout Association used to have an extensive archive of back copies of the old scandal-hunting paper "News of the World" and employed people to go through them looking for any dirt on potential new leaders.

 

Work was work. But being on an early meant an early finish. I came home through the rain, did the “Feed the Fish” ceremony with the dogs, and had a look at the water cress I’d thrown into the floating baskets last Friday. The stuff had already sprouted. I took a few photos of the cress and the bog filter and added it to the album of photos of the pond; the thing has certainly kept me busy over the years.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching the first episode of the new season of “Doctor Who”. Sadly it would seem that special effects are now the way forward. Back in the day the sets wobbled and the monster was a man in a rubber suit. There was no way round that, so the writers wrote a plot.

It would do the show no end of good if the writers did that again. But having had a whinge, this episode was probably one of the best of those of the last few years. Here’s hoping…