Blog referrals

I can tell from my sitemeter when people read this blog. I can usually tell who they are if they're regulars. I wrote about this before in Absent Friends. I've still got regular lurkers and one in particular who I'm sure I know but they never, ever comment. 18 months of almost daily reading and not a word, zilch. I wonder why they read, it's a bit like looking through someone's window and then scarpering when it is opened. Strange behaviour indeed. Others read and email or chat to me elsewhere so there is no need for immediate comment.

Not that I want loads of comments, I'm almost as bad at replying to them, usually because I find them when I am looking up Something Terribly Important for WH like the size of a roof truss or the price of scalpings. I read the email informing me of a comment and then promptly forget until days later when I then feel really embarassed and real heel for seeming to totally ignore the writer.

The most intriguing things to me about my blog readership at the moment are the strange connections called referrals. I know with a title involving the word straightjacket I get some odd ones, people looking for straightjackets, information about their role in ancient medicine or something and also people looking for those, ahem, dodgy sites where people do strange things with them.

The most bewildering of all however is the fact that almost 20% of referrals are from a Google search of 'carbohydrates and sleep' and relate to a blog I did aeons ago sparked off by some links I had read about between a high intake of carbs and excessive sleepiness. I didn't think it was that revelatory though being my usual ramble about my continuingly odd symptoms. All the sites searching these terms are from the USA. Is it a big deal over there or has someone posted a link to this somewhere else? It's totally baffling to me. Maybe I better have some carbs and sleep through the puzzle.

Ring Ring

I had an engagement ring for Christmas. Not as a prelude to marriage but as a symbol of having been together for almost 17 years, having been through more 'stuff' together than most people cope with in a lifetime, and desperately trying to get this house move sorted and other things sorted and finally, actually, be in the same place at the same time for longer than a few hours. Well, we picked it out and bought it at the beginning of December and it was all boxed up and lovingly gift wrapped by the shop and I opened it on Christmas Day and out fell loads of little sparkly, glittery things and ribbons and it was lovely and I showed everyone 'cos I'm really not a very 'ringy' person and this one is just, exactly, me.

It felt a little on the large side when I wore it and it was definitely looser than it had been in the shop. On Boxing Day I lost it for 2 hours in the garage sorting some books. I was a miserable wreck when WH returned from wherever he had been and together we went back into the garage and he wasn't a bit cross and was very calm and found it and said it was only a ring and if the worst came to the worst he'd buy me another one. Panic over.

Since then I have lost it numerous times and it has become looser and looser. Eventually after losing it in the vegetable box 3 times in one day I bought a tacky, chain store, little ring to keep it on.

Today we took it back to the shop where we bought it originally to get it made smaller. The good news is that since December my ring size has gone down by 3 just like the rest of me. The bad news is that it may be too much to alter and would affect the setting and the stones. It has now gone to the goldsmith to decide if he can do it or not. If not it looks like I'll be buying myself a replacement.

But like I said on Boxing Day the first time I lost it, I don't want another one, I want the original. It was great deciding to get it, going in the shop together and trying it on and then keeping it for 3 weeks until Christmas Day; another one wouldn't be quite the same. I will have to keep the first one on a chain round my neck I think. As for the shop's other suggestion, part-exchange the first one and get a replacement, forget it, like the man who bought it for me, I want the original, for ever.

Sod's law

Damn, bugger and blast.

I did a lot of packing for the move last week and sorting out WH's house prior to No 1 daughter and family moving in and I thought I pulled something in my stomach as WH handed down some boxes from my loft. The next day there was a distinct ache. A timely visit to the GP confirmed it, my hernia is back. I'm really mad, things were going so well and now I'm back to not exerting myself, no lifting or carrying and being generally careful. Dancing for 2 hours at the Hayseed gig probably didn't help either.

I see the surgeon again on Wednesday and this time I will be begging him to do the 'proper' final stuff with the mesh. After all it's not the NHS and surely if I am paying I can have what I want? Last time I went with his considered opinion that it was not necessary the first time. No of course not, that way you get to pay for 2 operations when the first doesn't hold. Usually I'm moaning about the NHS, this surely makes a change.

I'm going 'Private' again for the same two reasons I did before, far less risk of catching anything with my lack of a decent immune system and the much greater nursing care given as I didn't know exactly how, as a Lymie, I was going to react to surgery. This time there is a third reason, my window of opportunity to have surgery is minuscule, restricted to one convenient week only. So another operation is looming again, hopefully as soon as I can fix it after we return from Denmark in 4 week's time. That would give me 4-5 weeks recovery before the great Corfu Holiday. I need all my strength for that.

Afterwards I had planned a fairly active summer, festivals, craft fairs and the like until August when WH is due to have his shoulder operated on again. He had this done before in 2002 and it wasn't too successful so they're doing something more radical so he can continue to use it. If that works he is scheduled for the second one a few months later. In the intervening time we will most likely decamp to Greece where there will be no temptation for him to use it to any great degree. In any case he has been told he will be off work 3-4 months, not the 6 weeks he managed last time.

Quite where this puts the house move in the scheme of things I'm not sure, I will be out of action for 3-4 months as far as that goes so it looks like WH will be doing it all himself; that's when he's finished the house which for the last 4 months has been a single handed job as it is. We did get rid of the semi-permanent skip last week so that's a start, just a kitchen roof to get on and a kitchen to fit and we might be half-way there.

The arrival in 4 weeks of WH's nephew back from his annual 6 month sojourn in the Far East will give a second pair of experienced and lightening-quick hands. He generally works for us for the other 6 months of each year but has been so busy with other things for 18 months we had to do without our Main Man. His return is eagerly anticipated, not least by me, so WH will no longer feel he is doing the whole kit and caboodle himself.

Sometimes I am really sick of being sick, after 16 years I should have learned it's always two steps forward and one step back.

Strutting our stuff in Stroud

( Picture taken Feb 2008, Borderline London copyright Life in the Straighjacket)

Monday night we travelled to Stroud in Gloucestershire to see Hayseed Dixie live, WH having also seen them the night before in Exeter. 2 gigs on consecutive nights has got to be good going, he's more of a fan than me now.

We knew we’d got the right place when we pulled into the station car-park behind the Imperial Hotel and parked right by JW's famous new bike. After checking out the windows of the Polish deli and Polish restaurant (never knew Stroud was so ethnic) we settled in Wetherspoons on St Patrick’s night to the sound of two Irish guys having an argument and a whole bunch of, you-guessed-it, Poles. Shortly after the meal arrived we got a first glimpse of JW and Dave-who-does-our-sound trying to act all incognito with tweed cap and horn rimmed glasses. We kept our distance but did notice several other ‘fans’ paying homage at the service counter. Jake was spotted having a crafty smoke outside. Time to leave and go suss out the venue. The Subscription Rooms are owned by the local council and are an old fashioned theatre venue with chandeliers, a ballroom and a recent makeover of the bars and cafe area. Huge bouncers in Crombie coats guarded the door and divested us all of any suspicious looking articles, in my case half a (plastic) bottle of water. We wondered what we were in for.

Inside, the clientele seemed to be a mix of the local 'arty' types and yummy mummies attired in Boden and Joules. " A glass of chardonnay I think please, Henry." The men were bank-manager smart in casual mode, cashmere sweaters and cord trousers. Quite odd really. We wondered if they knew what they were in for. One or two broke the mould and looked like the normal Hayseed crowd, if anyone who loves them can be considered normal, a crowd of lads in false beards and cut off dungarees, a handful of bikers and the usual denim/leather clad brigade of lone males with too much hair. Frightened off by the distorted wall of sound which greeted us as Instill started their support set, we retreated to the coffee bar which declined to supply us with coffee but appended the statement that if they had known that 600 people would all be wanting coffee they would have switched the machine on. We sat and drank our cokes surrounded by an atmosphere more akin to a school PTA meeting amid cries of "Oh No, they've even got a siren now" and a loud "Ger off,you're crap" in a Brummie accent. At that stage we began to think there was another alternative event going on in the building.

Fortified by the warm coke, again we ascended the stairs for the main event as Instill performed their final number. the applause was lukewarm. The crowd in front of the stage did not seem very interested in any of the music, rather they were keen to seen 'down the front' and were braying to their friends across the room. Trays of pint glasses were placed on the stage and conversation resembled the hunt ball. When the boys came on to tune their instruments there were several loud cheers from the back and the whole hall surged forward in anticipation, displacing the local hoi-polloi with a few real fans.

After the customary 'Hello and Welcome', Kirby Hill got them going properly. The crowd seemed to be Hayseed newbies as very few hands went up when JW asked who had seen them before. The boys were on cracking form though and soon won them over, almost bringing the house down with Holiday about ¾ way through. They appeared to have been injected with speed as they tore through a mix of oldies and No Covers stuff. Dale was doing a great Maori haka for most of the set, his eyeliner even darker then usual; Jake got a load of laughs for fancying the support drummer (really?); and Don-Wayne dedicated his Daddy’s tune to Rachel-at-the-back for the encore. Dale singing 'Sweet Alabam' was just one high point in a set which had all the stomping classics and those of us who knew the words singing along as fast as we could manage which was not fast enough most of the time. A musician friend had told WH that on the Sunday they played at least 200 beats per min and this seemed even faster. After over 90 minutes the show was over.

We had to skip the after gig party at a pub up the road and had to high-tail it back down the M5 to go to an early funeral on Tuesday. No doubt there would be a few sore heads in Stroud that morning. We've just got to wait another few months now for the boys return later in the year as we can't get to any of the other gigs on this tour sensibly, holidays, weekends away and work conspire to prevent us.

A regular visitor

Herbie used to live with me, he shared my bed, cuddled close all night and regularly washed bits of me. He stroked my hair, sucked my ears and told me he loved me. One day he ran away and went to live with someone else. That was 5 years ago and now he's back, over the road with my neighbour.

He came into my life about 10 years ago, one hot summer day when the back door was open we saw this little face and two black ears peeping over the threshold. When he was noticed he slunk back down and just two tiny ear-tips remained in view. After that evening the little kitten became a regular visitor. Where he had come from no-one knew. My then neighbour, a merchant seaman, was home on extended leave and somehow this kitten managed to climb through the open kitchen window, scale the stairs and sleep on his bed. He was very hungry and the neighbour would walk down to the village shop and get a tin of corned beef to feed him. After a month or so of this I was asked why I wasn't feeding my new cat. "I haven't got one," I retorted. I suggested cat-food would be more appropriate, the neighbour had never thought of that. Another neighbour, also a single chap, had been sleeping with his patio door open due to the heat, every morning when he awoke, the kitten was curled up around his head. He hated cats and tried to get rid of him but still he came. Eventually the general consensus was that I, as the owner of 3 cats already, should adopt him. He needed food, vast quantities, he was too tiny to be out and about on his own and above all he needed somewhere safe to sleep. My other cats protested but really he was just too small to make much of a fuss of so they gave in and just let him be.

Very quickly we named him Herbie, he was a right Herbert, always into something, determined, courageous, and a real fighter. The merchant sailor neighbour returned to sea, only after making me promise I would always look after Herbie. Something about that kitten had struck a chord in his heart and he wanted to know he would be cared for. It was a strange conversation with a totally unsentimental, macho-man. It was the last time I would speak to him, he died 5 days later of a massive brain haemorrhage in the South China Sea, too far from land to be able to get him treatment. He was 42. I lost one of my best friends and Herbie lost his protector.

And so it seemed that Herbie had been given to me for some reason. Shortly after that he started disappearing. The first time was for a couple of days and he came back with a collar which he hated. He spent 5 hours trying to remove it until he got it stuck over his teeth and I had to finish the job. I realised he must have been going somewhere else. To cut a very long story short we discovered he really belonged to the house immediately behind mine even although the owners had initially denied it. He didn't like their dogs and so started a long 2-3 year period where he lived between the two houses. The real owner tried keeping him in, he always escaped. They had him neutered and he came back to me, escaping from their car as they returned from the vet and sleeping off his anaesthetic under my coffee table for 2 days. I tried to give him back but the owners were always out, didn't answer the phone or just said we''ll be round later. They didn't usually bother. They shut him in a shed for 4 days, his cries were driving me to distraction, the owners were away and I was on the point of breaking in when they returned and let him out. I wonder now why I didn't do it straight away. One Christmas, apparently on the vet's advice, they kept him in for 6 weeks. I was frantic. I didn't know where he was, the owners again denied they had seen him. I put up posters all round the village and had several false sightings. Oh lots of people knew him but no-one had actually seen him recently. I was quite sick at the time and very depressed. I was cold at night, my furry hot-water-bottle was missing. I went to the surgery for a blood test early one Monday morning. Imagine my delight when he was sitting on my front window on my return. I later found out he had once again escaped. At this point the owners gave up and subsequently moved house, leaving him and a dog behind. The dog was taken in by neighbours, Herbie remained with me.

At night he slept with me, down under the bedclothes, a furry, warm bag of obliviousness which I could mould into whatever shape I liked and he would never wake up. I had to stroke his head, then he would wash my knee, then came a big sigh and clunk he was fast asleep until morning. He sucked my ears and chewed my hair, he like to lick my scalp. I tried to stop him and consulted our vet. They suspected he had been taken from his mother too soon and I was a comfort. I explained the problems with his real owners and that he just didn't wouldn't stay with them. Even when I handed him back over the fence he had come straight back again. The vet decided he just needed me and wanted to be with me instead. It was just his way.

The wanderings continued, Herbie was seen in other parts of the village, at the shop, on the recreation field and in other houses. He had regular route, across the road, play under the pampas grass, down another road, cross the main road, visit a house near the shop, cross a field, visit an old lady in a bungalow, round the bungalow estate, cross the main road again, visit another house by a stream, slip under my opposite neighbours fence, go under her gate and be back out at the front of my place. It took all day. He left on his rounds at about 10 after a late breakfast and returned at 5 for tea. All this after his first walk of the day with a lady round the corner and her cat-friendly collie. Herbie would race out at 6, meet this lady at the end of the road, walk about 400 yards and then return for a quick snooze before breakfast.

Then came the day a feral cat had six sickly kittens at the top of the garden. We took them in and eventually nursed them back to health, keeping the two worst, Misty and Nelson. This was too much for Herbie and he left home when the kittens were only 5 weeks old and still living in the garden, he had been betrayed. He still walked his daily route, now including 10 minutes or so at the front of here, sitting staring up at the windows in disgust. If we went out to speak or to stroke him he tried to bite us and spat. He spent 18 months living near the shop, where we don't quite know. Then he moved again and lived with an elderly couple about 300 yards away from here, one of the houses he had always visited. He took over, slept in their bed to the point of lying full length on the chap's stomach with a paw on either shoulder. Just after Christmas the lady of the household went into hospital. Another betrayal, so now Herbie is over the road at my opposite neighbour's most of the day and night. He doesn't like their cat's prescription cat food so eats elsewhere but otherwise has made himself at home yet again, sleeping alongside her disabled husband in his downstairs bedroom and keeping his back warm at night. Yesterday morning I opened my curtains to see him sitting on her window cill.

He's been getting a bit friendlier again recently and I have stroked him a few times although I wouldn't pick him up. He's a big strong cat now, twice the size of when he lived here. I still miss him at night, no other cat has come so close and been quite so trusting. He still misses me too I'm sure if I see him outdoors he keeps watching for ages and will follow me from a distance. Occasionally he will come round the back and just look until he realises he has been seen, then he runs off. I wonder if he will ever come back, I like to think that one day he might and his wanderings will turn full circle.

The end of the Lyme

A couple of weeks ago I took myself off to see my Lovely Lyme Doc (LLD) in another part of the country. Alone. This in itself was a novelty, it was to be the furthest I have driven alone for 15 months. I took it slowly, arrived in time to have lunch in a wonderful cafe nearby and stock up at the Indian food shop around the corner. Thus fortified I sallied forth into the consulting rooms.

Apart from having a slight performance removing my clumpy, ankle-high walking boots, the consultation went very well. So well I had to stop and pinch myself afterwards to make sure I wasn't dreaming, and celebrate in style with the worst plate of supermarket fish and chips I had ever eaten. That brought me back to reality.

In a nutshell I am improving, vastly and quickly now too, every day brings some new realisation or surge of energy. A greater improvement than the LLD had dared hope and certainly better than I had ever dreamed about. I'm losing weight too, freed as I am of some of the medications that have coaxed me into life the last 16 years, and which I KNEW were causing me to gain and then retain weight. The end is beginning to be in sight. I remain on the treatment until May, when the sun and our family holiday in Corfu will pose problems anyway. This time it will be different however, I won't re-start unless I start to experience severe symptoms again, in which case I'll be racing back to LLD and begging for more antibiotics.

How long this break will be is unknown, it could be weeks or even months before those little hidden bugs come creeping out of their hiding places and make their presence felt. The worst case scenario is that after 4 weeks I will be sick again as I was after last year's holiday, the best case is that I remain well indefinitely, in which case we will know that all those horrid spirochetes have been zapped into oblivion.

Some of the symptoms will never completely go; WH asked LLD last visit what the prognosis was and was told a 95% recovery was possible in theory. This passage from Todors Online Journal of Bacteriology explains why:

Several antibiotics are effective in the treatment of Lyme disease. The present
drug of choice is doxycycline, a semisynthetic derivative of tetracycline. Even
patients who are treated in later stages of the disease respond well to
antibiotics. In a few patients who are treated for Lyme disease, symptoms of
persisting infection may continue or recur, making additional antibiotic
treatment necessary. Varying degrees of permanent damage to joints or the
nervous system can develop in patients with late chronic Lyme disease. Typically
these are patients in whom Lyme disease was unrecognized in the early stages or
for whom the initial treatment was unsuccessful.

My GP remains supportive even though she is not allowed to prescribe my treatment on the NHS. Odd really, as she can see that I am so much better than I was 12 months ago. Thank goodness I found out the real cause of my illness when I did. The state I was in last year leads to me think that by now I might not have been around.

Who cares about the odd 5%? You've got to agree, 95% of life is a much better prognosis than none at all.

Some good things happened this week

1. I had a lovely card for Mother's Day from youngest step-daughter. That will be the 18th year running I got something from her. Usually hand made but sometimes like this one a really lovely 'bought' one with lovely words.

2. Took Grandaughter aged 4 into the village shop and she was asked what she had been doing at Play School. 'Oh I don't go there any more' she said 'I've got the Chicky Spots' and proceded to pull up her jumper to show everyone.

3. The first flowers are out on my Akebia. Spring is definitely just around the corner even though we had a blizzard on Monday, for 10 minutes.

4. Went to the dentist and for the first time ever, I didn't have to have anything done. The Lyme treatment has improved my horrid teeth too.

5. The dentist thought I looked a lot fitter too and said so.

6. Was promised some (free) tickets for Chelsea Flower Show again from one of our suppliers. Thank You so much.

7. I have now lost almost 2 stones in weight since mid-December. My GP prefers kgs but somehow I know where I am with pounds and stones. Either way it's good.

Aarhus here we come

As if one Spring holiday and a recent long weekend in the smoke wasn't enough, another trip away has leapt up and bitten us on the proverbial. Ms A, our zany Danish friend and ex-neighbour, is throwing a party to celebrate her son's confirmation in April, the invite arrived on WH's birthday and of course we are going.

What a logistical nightmare. The most convenient flights are from Stansted, a 4 hour drive from here at least, we take off very early in the morning and arrive back at midnight. So that involves a hotel either side. Then we have to get from Aarhus to the family's home much further south, so we have to hire a car. We could get away with a small one but somehow Denmark doesn't do small ones to rent as WH found out last time he went (alone), so big car it is then. Having discovered all this I tried to make all the relevant bookings. For some reason last night all the relevant web sites were either down or running like treacle on ice, not worth waiting for. So this morning I was up with the lark and maxing out the credit card.

All I left have to do now is confirm the car hire, I put this off as it seems so horrendously expensive and I sort of thought that maybe later on it would be cheaper or perhaps I wouldn't notice the huge amount, either way I've postponed this until last. Last time WH went to Denmark we had an argument with the car hire people that went on for months as they insisted he had returned the car empty of petrol and had charged him £70 for the privilege, in reality he had filled it to overflowing 5km from the drop off precisely so he didn't get charged very much.

So now we have 5 days in Denmark to look forward to, only 5 weeks before the big Greek trip, somehow I think the house move will be on hold for even longer.

The boys from Deer Lick Holler

Just one of over 100 pix that WH took at the Borderline in London on Monday night where we went to see our fave band Hayseed Dixie on the second leg of their European tour 2008; they had played in Reykjavik the night before. It was a great night with a party like atmosphere, helped along by the shots of Jack Daniels the band provided us all with. Ostensibly it the was the press launch for the new album, but 150 dedicated fans didn't need a press presence to have a great time dancing and singing along with the old favourites. Too bad a lot of the press failed to show, we drank their JDs for them. Additionally, as the album had only been out 7 days we hadn't really had time to get word perfect by then; fuelled by JD, no-one noticed.

WH and I had spent the day trawling the shops around Oxford St and trying to resist the temptation of buying anything so we didn't have to carry it. By 5pm we had had enough and went to meet other Hayseed fans for a barbecue at Bodeans. Meal over, we trecked to the Intrepid Fox to met yet more fans and then hot foot it to the Borderline just around the corner. The evening continued in similar breakneck fashion culminating in a train ride back to our hotel in Slough at almost 2am, following an extremely decadent Greek kebab an hour before on Oxford Circus.

I am now paying for all this activity, aching in places I didn't know I could but strangely I haven't had the crash which would inevitably follow such behaviour over the last 16 years. I hesitate to say it but if I don't crash then I will KNOW I am on the mend.

Now I look forward to seeing the guys in Exeter in March. This morning I even talked our kitchen supplier into going too, another new recruit to the tie-dye and dungaree army.

A chip off the old block

As well as it being Worst Half's birthday this weekend, today middle grandson is 7. His birthday present list read like a catalogue for a tool store. In pole position was a generator because Mummy said he couldn't have any electricity in his shed. After that was an air compressor, by accident really, he thought it was a DIFFERENT generator; a camping light, also for his shed; an electric drill because Grandad wouldn't let him take one of his home; and some screwdrivers to add to his already quite impressive collection.

What he actually got from us was the camping light but in the shape of a rechargeable lead-light so Mummy isn't spending a fortune on batteries for the next 5 years; a reflective work jacket, just like a real builder's; an assortment of bird feeders and bird seed to feed his other passion of bird watching; some garden wildlife books so he can identify the numerous bugs which turn up in the shed and finally the best thing of all in his 7 year old eyes, a freebie mug and pen from a local builder's merchant, only of couse he didn't KNOW it was free.

This little 7 year old, and he is quite little, has the look of his Grandad at the same age. He passionately wants to be a builder just like Grandad and had a real moment of triumph a couple of weeks back when he helped to put the garage door on our new garage. He put the final 5 inch screws in, holding the drill with Grandad like a real pro, only this little builder was standing on an upturned rubbish bucket in order to reach. He has helped redo all the skirting board in the new house and is eagerly waiting for the first fix in the new extension. At parent's evening he entertained his headmistress with a word perfect description of how to scribe a joint. 'My Grandad showed me."

This is the boy who hates being indoors and complains that when the weather is nice his teacher won't allow him to take his work outside, so unlike his older brother who is academically gifted but prefers to sit inside most of the time, his nose in a book or on the pc. They both play football but perversely it is older brother who is the real Beckham, top scorer in his local team. I have memories of the younger boy, outside the back door on a freezing cold day, aged 3, no jumper and taking his shoes off and struggling with a bucket of cold, dirty water, cleaning his bike.

The summer's coming, a house move in the offing and the promise of a huge garden and a better site for his shed, well away from the house. We can only speculate the projects to be undertaken this year. Now 50-year-old Grandad dreams of an early retirement but somehow he's going to have to postpone it for a few years until the apprentice leaves school. Meanwhile the lead light will come in handy for carrying out spying operations when he's not working with Grandad.

The secret's out at last.

Worst Half celebrates his birthday in style this weekend. Last night we had Birthday cake, a few presents and told him of his impending suprise. First off was the presentation of a 'Magic Key' fashioned by middle grandson out of tin foil and cardboard, about 10 inches long it obviously opened a very big lock. All the grandkids were shouting 'It's the key of the door, Grandad' but even they didn't know which door and where it was.

Next up he was given an 'itinerary', travel agent style with flight and accomodation details and then the biggest surprise of all, he gets to go on holiday with his 10 closest family. He read it out loud, the kids and Great Nan, who was there to watch, were totally bemused, 'What is it, what is it?' they were all asking.

So elder daughter explained that in the spring we are all off on holiday for a week, the whole family, on an airoplane, and Grandad is over the moon. The key is for the door of the villa we are going to stay in. WH always wanted to do something like this but never had the time or the opportunity. He's been beaming ever since.

As for me it's a huge relief after keeping a secret like this for the best part of 14 months. The logistics of organising 3 families coming from two directions has been almost a nightmare at times. Especially when they all fall out. I must admit they were all threatened that if WH did find out beforehand it would all be 'off'. He would have never agreed if it had not been all signed, sealed and paid for in full, ever mindful of the cost.

So the secret was kept brilliantly until about a month ago then somebody totally unrelated happened to mention to WH that one of us was having trouble getting their passport photo signed. WH repeated the tale to me. Fortunately the News was on TV and I managed to act quickly for once and gestured to him to shut up as I thought I'd just heard that the mortgage rate had gone up. Well that certainly concentrated his mind and the crisis averted. Several days later he returned to the theme again and I was asked what the passport was for, 'EuroDisney with their Mum in September,' I countered, 'Not that it will probably happen, they're too disorganised' and again changed the subject. Then I left the folder containing all details, payments etc, open on the side in the office, he never even noticed. The same week youngest daughter was quizzing him about driving abroad 'In case I go to Switzerland or anything' she added quickly. The grandkids, too, were asking why they needed a passport photograph 'In case you ever go on holiday,' was the swift answer along with a telling off for some minor misdmeanor to avoid any more questions.

Anyway, we can all breathe easy now; the secret's out and has been the main topic of conversation for the last 24 hours. He never suspected a thing, not once, although he thought I'd been spending a lot of time on the phone, and not just business calls either!

At the end of May we are all off to NE Corfu, I just hope Corfu knows what it is in for.

Oh No it's the big O

WH has a birthday with a zero on Friday, we are celebrating on Saturday and a HUGE surprise will be revealed for the Birthday Boy. Can't say any more yet but it will be great. I'm so excited.

In other directions, I am so busy I don't know where to turn, trying to sell this house, tidy up, do the garden, sort the new house out, sort the business out and organise a monster party and THE surprise.

I saw my Lovely Lyme Doc last week and he is amazed with my progress, I am definitely 50% back to normal, maybe more on a good day. 3 more months of treatment and then I can stop for a while to see if the symptoms return or not. Met with a friend yesterday whom I had not seen for 6 months and she was stunned. This keeps happening a lot now, it's really odd, it takes a while for me to get used to the new improved version, let alone anyone else.

To celebrate both events we are off to the British Press Launch of the new Hayseed Dixie album in London next Monday. If you get chance have a listen, it's brilliant and just like the title, No Covers, there is not a 'cover' in sight. Time to take these guys seriously, especially the writing talent of John Wheeler. It's a new direction for them and we'll be celebrating a new direction for us too.

Some of last week's highlights

1. I spent a day in the sun sorting 4 huge piles of bricks.

2. A Mistle thrush set up home in the oak tree opposite my house and has been singing to us ever since.

3. The garage door on the new house finally went on with the help of youngest grandson who insisted on putting in all the 'big' screws himself.

4. I weighed in at the GPs and was 8kg lighter than I was 8 weeks ago. Not bad huh??

5. I made some headway on a puzzling aspect of my family tree but I'm still trying to figure out how my dyed-in-the wool, Cockney, uncle came to be born in Edinburgh.

6. It has been sunny for 6 whole days.

7. I discovered that my new fig tree gets the sun all day every day. That promises even more figs for this year.

I've got to look on the bright side. WH is suffering from extreme stress and clinical depression. Not much fun and mostly caused by one particular customer. We urgently need to get some sun and some rest.

Watch this space.

Time to take stock

Haven't had much to write about recently. Life plods on through January and now we're into February and it's still cold, wet, windy and depressing. We're still waiting for the roofers to put the roof on the extension, every time they go to start some other bad weather prevents them. We are now about 2 months behind with the build and all because of the weather. This has had the effect of driving the costs up too, the scaffolding seems to have been up for months.

The other house has been on the market for 7 weeks and despite loads of advertising since new year, progress is slow. The agent tells me that this has been the slowest January over all for years. Just our luck. Newspaper reports of a recession, uncertainty with the banks and the fact that this area is one of the most expensive in the country all conspire to make it harder to sell. I am begining to despair of ever moving from here. I was annoyed that I was here all last summer, now it looks like I will be here for part of this one too.

WH has moved on to other work, he's been full time on our place since then end of October and now his customers just won't wait. Meanwhile, as we weather yet another storm thoughts turn to Greece and warm weather and to wondering if, after this project is finished, we sell both places and escape. For good.

The Lyme treatment is working, I'm losing weight too and I know I'm ever better in the warm. The thought of permanantly living in more comfortable temperatures is very appealing. It's certainly more than a passing idea.

Better do a bit more of the Greek language study then.

On holiday

WH is skiing this week. Rather him than me, I don't do cold. Lyme and Raynauds put paid to that. In an ideal world and if it were warm I would go, I'd love to see all that snow. I love snow but these days only on TV or through the window.

So while I have this brief respite I'm taking a week off too. No phone calls, no irate contractors/customers/suppliers moaning at me. The peace is palpable, you can almost eat it. It's lovely. The house looks sparkling thanks to my wonderful cleaner and what's more there is no red sand and concrete tramped in 10 minutes after she finished. I eat when I like, I watch what I like, (what is it with men and the remote? I guess that's one of those meaning of life questions)I even sit where I like, the cats having cleared off outside as pester power gets short shrift from me and they know it. All in all I'm having a lovely break. I've read 3 books, eaten cloves and cloves of garlic and found TV programmes I didn't know existed.

The peace will be shattered on Saturday when the wanderer returns, bringing with him a week's laundry and all the detritus of living out of a rucksack for a week.

You know what? I can't wait. Silence is golden but I do miss that all that noise.

Up to the roof

We have finally reached roof height on our extension. The bricklayer had 4 days left to do at the beginning of December and the weather has been so awful ever since it has taken until this week to get those 4 days of work done. Now the timbers are on and we are just waiting for the roofer to add the final layers. Then we can start on the inside, only 11 months since I first set foot in the house. WH is off for a much needed break this weekend, his annual skiing trip. I'm staying in the relative warm here.

Meanwhile this house is for sale and has been advertised once, with 2 viewings. It's being advertised again shortly but it looks like the weather is set to stay wet and floods surround our village. Sadly, not the sort of weather I would go house-hunting in.

Back on the case

Some extremely good news for the new year, Dr Crippen is alive and well and posting again. After rumours of his demise and a spoof obituary, John Crippen has surfaced again after his unscheduled autumn break and I for one am extremely pleased about it. His diagnosis of the NHS is spot on and the points he raises are the concerns of all of us, not just the chronically sick like me. As I have said countless times before, the NHS has done very little to help me over the last 16 years and my recovery and treatment are entirely due to the private sector.

I look forward to new ideas and ever more anger from the good doctor, it really is great to see him back.

The cat with his own overnight bag

Nelson is in love. He purrs, he is happy, he sleeps peacefully and he is calmer than he has ever been. His neurosis on the back burner for once. He spends a lot more time in the house now, to the annoyance of Misty who thinks that he rules the roost. Nelson has found a new permanant place to sit and cuddles up with the object of his affections, totally ignorning the ploys of his mad brother.

It all started about 6 weeks ago. I had ordered some Christmas stuff from a catalogue here on the internet. When the goods arrived they were accompanied by a 'wonderful free gift'. I examined the package. It was a small very tacky-looking, supposed 'overnight bag in faux suede'. Well overnight bag for a dwarf or a Barbie doll perhaps, it would just about contain a toothbrush and flannel. I tossed it on the floor with disdain until I could decide what to do with it. The bin seemed too good, maybe it could go into the next charity shop bag. I promptly forgot about it for 24 hours, being hidden from sight as it was under the dining table.

The next thing that happened was Nelson disappeared. One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. Then he seemed to keep appearing from nowhere. Finally my brain did a bit of joined up thinking: Nelson was under the table. Strange. On closer examination there he was having dragged the bag into the corner of the room underneath the floor lamp, and was happily seated on it purring loudly. Not something he does very often. When he finally moved the next morning I moved the bag en-route to the garage and the charity bag. Nelson shrieked and walked round in circles. He cried, he jumped up onto the arm of the sofa and looked into my eyes. He kept crying, real tears. I put the bag back again and on he leapt and rolled on it waving his legs into the air. He settled down again and, after breakfast, fell into a deep sleep.

So now I have a tatty, tacky hold-all under my dining table and one very happy, chilled-out cat. I presume the fabric is warm as it has a plastic lining and that the 'faux-suede' is soft to his paws. It can't be very comfortable, having two thick straps, a buckle and zip on it's top surface but Nelson loves it. After 5 years he has finally found a bed he loves and a peace which which has calmed us down too, life wasn't easy with a neurotic cat.

4 days later

and it's already 2008.

I am starting this year as I mean to go on. So far we have had a house viewing, a decluttering session with a vengeance, some early nights and the best news of all, the floor is down in my new kitchen! Yay!

I've also found time to read 2 books and my Christmas presents from my sis FINALLY arrived. Ordered on 11th December they got here yesterday. Wow, Amazon really excelled themselves! So now I have a new task ahead, Teach Yourself Greek. Seeing as I have been trying to get a local course for the last 5 years and no-one does anything like that out in the sticks here and when they tried it was canclled due to lack of interest this is the next best thing. Like all good resolutions I will begin in earnest. Actually I think I just found out the reason for the Amazon delay, I have been sent the Canadian/US version. Strange.

So things to look forward to in the next few weeks are:

Planning the new kitchen
Getting the roof on
Starting the new garden
Selling this house
Going to dinner with some very old friends
A whole week of me time whilst WH goes skiing
Another appointment with my lovely Lyme doc
Planning/ research for this year's Greece trips
Learning a little bit of Greek

It's a tough life isn't it?

Thank goodness this one is over

and YES I do mean the year.

2007 has been spectacularly bad for us so I'll be heartily pleased when Big Ben rings in the new one.

In January I lost my Mother after a short illness. I too was very ill and at the end of that month I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. WH gave evidence in a murder trial the same week.

In February we started to try and buy another house, we finally got the key in late June. I started the Lyme treatment and was ill for weeks.

In March we were entirely taken up with estate agents, solictors and sorting out my Mother's estate.

In April we were still having hassle from estate agents and solicitors.

In May we met the customer from hell.

In June we went to Greece and landed in forest fires and temperatures of 47 degrees C. We spent most of our time there on the phone to structural engineers due to problems with an ongoing project here. The police also rang whilst we were half way up a mountain asking about yet another murder.

In July I lost my second 'mother' after a sudden illness.

In August all the shows I usually attend in the summer were cancelled because of bad weather. I developed a hernia.

In September I had even more problems with my foot which had started in July, by now I could barely walk. The customer from hell continued to give us grief.

In October my foot burst open and 3 large pieces of wood were extracted. I had a hernia operation and was grounded for 2 weeks.

In November our labourer disappeared and left us stranded the busiest week of the new build.

In December the weather was so bad we are are 4 weeks behind with the build and then WH developed the flu and has been ill ever since. WH seems to have a stalker too.

Amongst this there have been a few bright moments, we have a new Grandson born in June, we saw Hayseed Dixie several times and met several other Outhousers and above all I have been continuously sustained by a few close friends and family members who are always there for me no matter what.

As we go forward to 2008 these are the things I want to take with me, the hopes, the plans and the realisation that nothing should be quite so bad again. As for 2007, you can forget it.

Interlude

Christmas was, well, like Christmas always is, too much of everything. Now we both have bugs, a heavy cold in my case, the flu in his and of course man-flu is always so much worse.

So excuse me a short while as I rush back to the bedside and play nurse.

I may be some time.

Tis the season to be jolly

Wow, what a week!

Now all I have to do is recover in time for the big day. We had 2 nights running socialising, a couple of BIG shopping trips, a recycle bin full of cardboard from all the deliveries of stuff I bought on the net and I now have 2 rooms half full of wrapped prezzies after a marathon wrap fest which had the upper floor looking like a training ground for Santa's elves. Half my kitchen has decamped into the garden in large sealed plastic boxes and all because we have 9 people for Christmas day. In this shoe box. I hesitate to say of course that we should have been round the corner in the new house and with a LOT MORE SPACE.

Today, I have mince pies to make and a cake to ice. Easy peasy, I thought until I realised that I have to retrieve the mixer from under a ton of 'decluttered' junk in the understairs cupboard. I'm trying frantically to do all the prep today so I can spend tomorrow in a social whirl of present delivering (and hopefully receiving) and celebrating the 'Depressed Painter's' birthday with a long boozy lunch a trois.

Once the main event is over, we await the New Year and dare not make a mess before January 1st when we will have to spend the day removing all the signs of festivities and declutter yet again for lo and behold, on the Second of Jan, we have a house viewing.

Fingers crossed it will herald the start of a much better year then this, which I for one will not be sorry to see the back of.

I've heard it all now.

Just read this.

I know that was in the US but the same sort of thing is happening here too.

God help them when they become parents, What they already are? you say.

Quite possibly. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Christmas is a-coming

And thoughts turn to getting all those difficult presents sorted out. Actually as my family are abroad we use the Amazon wish lists so at least we can send something wanted. That's for the people who do their wish list in time. The Muso of course has his mind on other things so hasn't bothered yet. It's a brilliant system and I like it much better than just sending a cheque or money order or even boring clothing in the mail, plus you get to see what people want.

My own wishlist is a mix of must read books, odd ball music and the purely mundane but a pain to find (a mixer cover for goodness sake?) with a sprinkling of the purely frivolous, jewellery, ice cream maker (for the twice a year I might fancy actually making some) etc etc. It will be nice if some of the frivolous stuff gets given to me, after all the point of a present, I always think, is that it must be something the recipient would not HAVE to buy for themselves.

So far I have done all my wishlist purchasing and am on taget for an early finish. As for Muso, if he doesn't get his list in quick it will be back to socks or even worse, underwear. You have been warned.

EDIT

Wow, within an hour of posting this I received the list. Someone's ears must have been burning!

It's official, No covers

Cooking Vinyl have announced the release date for Hayseed Dixie's next album, No Covers for 18th Feb 2008. Guess what WH is getting for his birthday? Sounds a blast, I can't wait.

Meanwhile to set the scene for this feast of totally original material, have a listen to this. If this doesn't get you jumping then duh....nothing will.

Bird Fest

I don't usually see a Siskin in my garden until January, this year there are already several competing with the Blue Tits for the best bits of my feeders.

The mornings now are a regular squawking session. Today I counted Blue Tits, Coal Tits, Great Tits, Siskins, a Chaffinch, Goldfinches, Greenfinches, a Robin, Starlings, a Wren, a Blackbird and House Sparrows all jockeying for position. Only the Golfinches like the Niger seed however and then only one of the two feeders seeing as these are indentical I'm baffled as to what the difference is.

A big hit has been the string of feedstuffs I bought in the local dicsount supermarket consisting of alternate fat balls and peanut feeders along an 800mm length of plastic netting. I hung this from my red maple and it's cute to see a chain of diminutive Blue Tits all busily pecking away.

I'm hoping this mildish weather continues as I'ts a great sight to watch so many little visitors.

PS. For some spectacular photos of owls go and look at Graham Catley's site. As always superb pictures of some rare and some not so rare birds.

One week later

Whew, can't believe a whole week has gone by so fast.

A momentous day today as I have put my little box-type house on the market after 22 and a half years here. I said I would stay a couple of years and then find something bigger. Events always conspired to thwart it. Now however, the time has come and the deed is done. The first ad is due next week. Seems strange so close to Christmas but the HIPS fiasco has made it timely now and I get to save about £700 in the process.

Round the corner and the scaffolders have finally come so we can press on upwards again. A quick site meeting with WH confirms that we *should* have a roof on the extension by Christmas and on the kitchen by New Year. The weather continues to wage war on the brickies so the build is much slower than it would have been had we started on schedule in June. As it is we're not doing badly coming to the end of the seventh week, particularly as the building inspector doubled the size of the foundations at a stroke and delayed us a full week.

I wanted to be in for Christmas, Easter looks much more likely now!

Meatloaf and Barbecued cabbage

In recognition of yesterday's Thanksgiving celebrations I made an American style dinner last night, Meatloaf. A recipe given to me about 30 years ago which I adored but have not made in the last 20 for some reason. It seemed as good a time as any to resurrect it.

It was every bit as yummy as I remembered. WH loved it too although for the stated reason that it tasted like faggots! I served it with barbecued cabbage and mashed potatoes and the whole combo was divine although WH wasn't so keen on the cabbage which comes in a tomato laden sauce that is just perfect over the meatloaf.

They're both a cinch to make.

Meatloaf

500g minced beef
1 small onion very finely chopped
1 packet stuffing mix made up with water and allowed to cool
1 tablespoon brown sauce
1 large or 2 small eggs

Mix all ingredients together and push into a 2lb loaf tin well greased and lined with paper.

Barbecued Cabbage

Slice white cabbage into 30 cm wedges.

Place in a baking dish
Pour over a 400ml tin of chopped tomatoes mixed with 1 teaspoon made mustard, 1 tablespoon brown sugar, 1 tablespoon tomato puree and 1 tablespoon tomato ketchup.

Cover the dish with foil.

Place both dishes in the centre of a preheated oven and cook at 180 degrees C for 90 minutes.

Serve with mashed potatoes; comfort food at it's best.

Oh and the meatloaf is good cold too, just how WH likes faggots.

Happy Thanksgiving

Seeing as my real family lives across the pond, I wish all readers a Happy Thanksgiving and the realisation that it is only a few weeks now to our own bunfight on Christmas Day.

Help, it's about time I got myself organised.

The Wilder Network

A big hug and thanks to Terri for sending me the link for this brilliant Lyme Disease site, The Wilder Network. I can see already that it's going to take me ages to read all the info on there but it looks most comprehensive. My lovely doctor trained with one of the main names on there so I'm in good company I guess.

It's essential reading for anyone who lives in an area where deer ticks are prevalent. As you can see from the image they're not that big but boy do they cause some trouble if undetected. Get reading folks.

A forgotten way of life

© James Ravilious; Beaford Archive/CORBIS

Last night we watched the BBC4 programme on the life of James Ravilious, a little known Devon based photographer who spent 17 years of his life photographing rural Devon for the Beaford Archive. I first saw some of his work several years ago at an exhibition and have loved it ever since. The picture above I have as a print in my offfice.

James Ravilious trained in fine arts and it shows in his photos, they are superb as well as being a record of a farming way of life that has all but disappeared.

Have a look at these and enjoy them too.

Excitement, Excitement

In the cold of November I am already thinking about the spring and the news that Hayseed Dixie will be back touring in the UK in March is just what I wanted to hear. C'mon guys, update your website!

Oh, a little bird told me that the new album will be out just prior to that.

I'm warming up already.

My Virtual Family

Funny in this cyber world we live in we seem to get all sorts of friends and families around us. Yesterday I spent some time on my family tree, something I have not been able to do for months. I really enjoy genealogy and even 7 years down the line find new things to dig about in. Anyway I digress. I had been contacted by a chap who proves to be a very distant relative, we share the same Great Great Great Grandparents. We had an email conversation and he shared some information with me and I returned the favour. I get the feeling we will be in touch again. This has happened before and I have a small catalogue of distantly related people that I share stuff with occasionally.

I have also built a small but close group of people with whom I share symptoms and ailments. Originally I met these on a message board which supported people with similar diagnoses. The group evolved and moved elsewhere and then eventually split up. Some people I am still in contact with 6 years later, some I have met in real life, have spoken to on the phone and some remain a daily support and network, there in an instant when you need them and happy to be in the background when you don't. Notably when I had surgery recently these were the friends who sent cards, flowers and general cheer up messages unlike my local friends who stayed away.

My real family is spread thinly and wide. My closest relatives live in the USA and I see them rarely, a source of great disappointment to me as I have missed the best part of my nephew's and niece's formative years. I say the best part, because 2 weeks a year is nothing. The main reason for this is my inability to travel long distances. We go to Greece, sure, but a less than 4 hour flight is no comparison with an 8 hour, then change to another for an hour. I did this once 11 years ago and it almost killed me. When I arrived home it took me 6 weeks to recover. I was in bed solidly for 2 of those. Hence my reluctance to go again. The whole experience was made worse by my catching Parvo Virus whilst there and this affected my heart and then I got arthritis as well so the effects were devastating to say the least. Understandably I am loath to repeat that experience. My other close relative lives abroad too for most of the year and I see her almost as infrequently.

My lack of actual blood relatives was brought home to me recently when I underwent a General Anaesthetic and had to give the name of my next of kin. In the UK. I don't have one! WH may be my nearest and dearest be he's no next of kin. So I put him anyway. It did make me think maybe we ought to make this a more permanant arrangement after over 16 years together, somehow I don't think he's too keen.

Work in Progress

After weeks and weeks of destruction, things are starting to take shape. We are actually building, hence my being away from the internet and having to get out and do stuff. OK, OK, it's only delivering breakfasts, keeping the tea stocked up and fetching sundry parts and supplies but it's all in a good cause.

The top pic is of the rear extension and the other one is the living room, now without the kitchen sticking out and with the fab new glass doors which will eventually open onto the dining area and to another set of glass doors leading to the wonderful south facing rear garden. Already I just LOVE it. Not least for the sun which streams on the back of the house even on a cold November morning.

The best news of all? My fig tree is surviving and has loads of figs developing for next year. Roll on Summer.

Music was my first love

And it still is.

Since my relative recovery from Lyme I have rediscovered a mis-spent youth of concerts, gigs and playing loud music in my car. At the moment on the CD player is the Kerosene Brothers (the alter-ego of Hayseed Dixie) Choose Your Own Title along with everything Hayseed Dixie ever released. Intersperse this with UB40's Greatest Hits, all sorts of Notis Sfakianakis and some vintage Christopher Cross and you get a really weird mixture. As Barley Scotch says you need more than one kind of music in your machine.

Last week we went to see The Treefrogs at Combe St Nicholas, a brilliant night made even better by the lunatic dancer who managed to stay on his feet against all the odds. I'll never look at our plasterer the same way again! Rock on Danny! This week we're hoping to see the Lost Boys, another one of Danny's collaborations, at the George in Uffculme. Having seen Hayseed Dixie 4 times this year along with an abortive visit to Status Quo at Dudley Castle, we're now off to see Madness and UB40 5 days apart in Plymouth in December. There are rumours too of a Mad Dog McCrea gig sometime soon too.

Meanwhile if I get to wondering what my muso relative is doing across the pond, I can always watch The Old Southern Bluegrass Riverside Boxwap Family Band.

Mud, Mud, Glorious mud

After weeks of nothing much very visible happening on the new house, today saw the start of the groundworks. The crew were due at 9am. They arrived at 11 and had a tea break, six phone calls and a big conflab. After another few phone calls they decided they needed more equipment so off went the tractor and trailer to fetch some. Another truck appeared. Some more digger parts appeared. They had another cup of tea.

About 2pm they started and cleared the whole back-garden in about 40 minutes. I fetched 6 year-old grandson to watch after school." It's boring," he said, "they wont let me do anything, I'm going home." I watched fascinated.

All that is left is a pile of rubble to be removed in the morning, a pile of bushes to be replanted and a wide expanse of flat clear space where the lawn will be. No dead trees, no stumps, no little twee brick walls, no giant weeds.

I love it.

Just got to dig the foundations tomorrow then we will be really motoring on.

Back from the front line

I'm home. I've got stitches. I'm sore. I can walk but I can't sit.

I was allergic to the dressings. I was allergic to some of the hospital equipment (Memo to self: Does this mean I have a latex allergy?). I was only in for 8 hours after all the fuss before-hand. I was accompanied by WH the WHOLE time.

I'll be housebound for the next few days. I will be able to drive in a couple of weeks. I'll be packing for the move in a couple more.

I had a hernia, which was nothing really to a 'normal' but to a Lymie, it's a whole other country, let alone the complications that having an infection in my foot brought.

It's over. Yay!!!!!!

Cartoon courtesy of www.piperreport.com

Bye for now

At risk of yet another medical post I am going into hospital tomorrow for a small operation so will not be here for a while.

See you soon.

The NHS strikes again

More and more this blog this turning into a rant against the NHS. I do give them a chance, honestly, but the more things that happen to me the more I seem to be turning into Dr Rant or NHS Blogdoctor, minus the medical degree of course.

This latest episode with my right foot has proved once again that GP's don't spend enough time with their patients to form a proper diagnosis and more importantly if you suffer from unfashionable ilnesses or diagnoses like I do, ME, Fibromyalgia, Lyme disease and a weight gain resulting from inappropriate medications, they don't always want to listen. It's the good old heart-sink trap again. But like the famous boy who cried wolf, sometimes heart-sink patients do actually have something wrong with them apart from the never ending list on the practice computer screen.

I was lucky yesterday. I saw a locum GP who was lovely, had no preconceived ideas about me and actually examined the foot in question for the first time in 9 weeks rather than casually glancing from the side. She left the room momentarily to fetch a nurse and we heard her say "Well she definitely has something in there, it's quite obvious, it must have been there for weeks". An hour later I had had 3 pieces of wood removed from my heel.

So why did it take 4 GP visits over 9 weeks with 3 different doctors to finally extract what was painful for me and clearly very obvious to the locum. In all this time I have been told to keep up my excercise levels (How, precisely, on one foot?), take some painkillers, ignore it and walk on it properly.

The locum sent me to A&E for a soft tissue Xray and then the balloon went up. The Xray was abnormal. Surprise surprise. I explained it was calcification due to Lyme Disease so some very old plates were found and a lot of old notes and they finally agreed that that was not the cause this time. I have strong antibiotics now for a week after which I have to return the A&E to get checked over by an orthopaedic surgeon if if the heel is not completely better. At least someone has finally taken notice.

The examination I had from the locum under a strong light was very different from the perfunctory look I was given initially. It took maybe 5 minutes longer. If this had been done in the first place, 4 appointments would have been saved and the trip to A&E and the 4 hour wait.

And the NHS is trying to save money. What a joke.

Not my left foot part 2

Well for 8 weeks I have been struggling on my right foot in various degrees of pain, ranging from mild to absolute agony, where I have been unable to put any weight on it at all. The GP decided weeks ago that it was another bout of fasciitis which I had in 1995 and has been treating me with anti-inflammatories. I however have not been convinced.

Last night I was proved correct. The side of my foot literally burst open and an abcess was revealed.

I am waiting for the surgery to open now so I can get it looked at properly. Maybe it will start to heal now and I will be able to walk again.

What a waste

When I first saw you, you presented with the highest number of Lyme symptoms I have ever seen in one person. You were really very, very ill. I can not believe that your regular GP missed it. Especially as you had the EM rash and a defined onset.

No, not a dream but the words of my wonderful consultant yesterday.

I was also told that I would never have 100% cast iron test results and in any case they were not that useful per se anyway and it was probably a waste of money testing for all sorts of things when all the clinical signs were there in such a massive number. And yet every other medic I have consulted over the last miserable, bloody, frustrating 16 years had missed them, ALL. A point not lost on me, WH and the consultant.

The medics who asked if I was really that bad, the medics who thought I was hysterical, the pain specialist who said "Well of course a lot of these symptoms are not proved to exist anyway", the medics who said "You'll just have to work through it", the medics who said "Try exercise", the medics whose faces fell when I walked into their surgery, the medics who said "Get out more," the medics who told WH to let me get on with it, the medics who said "really it's not that bad" the medics who said "Here take these antidepressants, you'll feel much better," the medics who told me to get a life.

I only wish.

This revelation seems to have really affected me. I know I was told before that Lyme was 99% likely and then the treatment started working so it looked as though the diagnosis WAS right, but never before had it been said in so many words, so definitely,categorically: "This is what you have got and have always had, since 1991."

So today I am still weepy and feel like I have wasted 16 years of my life but at least the end is in real sight now, it's not just a maybe. And also the realisation that all these odd things were not just me being awkward/attentionseeking/lazy they were a REAL illness.

And how many more people are there out there like me?

ETA Whats with the colour?? Blogger misbehaving again, at least it beats my dashboard coming up in German which was last week's surprise.

Answers

Seeing as everyone has so many questions (Terri!!) here are a few answers to those you have asked and those you want to ask!!

How do you preserve lemons?

It's easy peasy, see here. Afterwards use them them in Morrocan dishes, with curries and finely shredded in a marinade for meats, olives etc

Am I in the new house yet?

Er, no. We start work on the extension this coming Tuesday. I am moving out of here the last week of November and I hope that we'll have a working kitchen-diner big enough for all the family at Christmas, we have to seat 12 comfortably so it will need to be finished.

Have I been to Greece recently?

Another resounding NO. I am having surgery in 2 weeks time so all holidays have been on hold.

Have I been to Denmark yet?

No, see answer above.

Why am I on steroids? again?

Having had the rash from Hell for the last 3 months I have tried 4 different antihistamines (well all the ones I had not tried before for any reason) and they still didn't stop the itch, not even when taken together at excessive doses. Steroids was an almost last resort. They didn't work either. The last resort were some meds you used to take for stomach ulcers, now well outdated but they *might* have some sort of synergistic effect on antihistamines. RESULT. I am on my second itch free day since May and it's marvellous.

Why do I have so much energy?

Steroid high. I'm making the most of it.

How's the Lyme disease?

Still on the treatment, getting slowly better in terms of stamina, mental capacity and energy such that other people now notice. And yes this was well before the 10 days of steroids! Actually I see the consultant tomorrow so watch this space for his take on things.

How's the RA?

And here is the rub, it's getting slowly worse, but temper this with the knowledge that I have had no treatment at all for it for 9 months and things get more into perspective. I probably need to restart the methotrexate to ensure I don't have yet another seized-up winter. Of course I have more movement in my hands than I have had for months due to the steroid treatment but as we know from previous encounters, the effect lasts 8 weeks at best and 2 weeks at worst. I need to act now to get it under control before we have some really cold weather. If I restart methotrexate I have to stop the Lyme treatment, so whats a girl to do? Dither at the moment.

What did I get for my birthday?

In no particular order:

A box of chocs

The good, good pig. A most excellent read.

A weekend washbag and lurverly smellies

A new food mixer

A notepad

A humungous bunch of flowers

Money/vouchers for cds

More books

Cds

A foodie hamper

A necklace

Pottery

And it was only an ordinary birthday. I am so lucky to have such generous family and friends.

Why am I still in England at all?

I really wonder that one myself. The temperature here last week was the same as in Athens in January. We have another 6 months to go of this winter, so this year we will have had a 12 month winter in total. The weather here really sucks. Next year it had better improve or else...

Hope this keeps you satisfied for 5 minutes. I'm away for the weekend now so I'll have more on that and the consultant later.

Six things I have done in the last few days

Just to prove I am actually doing something........

1. Made a jar of preserved lemons

2. Seen Hayseed Dixie in Bristol. Wow, best gig ever.

3. Turned another year older.

4. Driven for hours collecting building materials.

5. Received the biggest display of flowers I have ever seen. They are still filling the living room and scenting the whole house.

6. Started on the demon steroids yet again, only this time I am losing weight, not gaining it.

Back soon with more stunning highlights!!

Spicy Sunshine Soup

This is a real warmer for those first chilly days of autumn when you have a glut of produce in the kitchen and are running out of ideas as to what to do with it all.

Serves 8 easily.

Half a butternut squash, peeled and diced
2 medium onions diced
3 yellow or red peppers, de-seed and diced
6 tomatoes halved. I used yellow ones which looked great.
1 green chili de-seeded and sliced
1 tablespoon ground coriander
half tablespoon ground paprika. On this occasion I would NOT used smoked.
2 cloves garlic chopped
5ml olive oil
1pint (20oz) vegetable stock
1 teaspoon sugar
black pepper to taste


Heat the olive oil in a pan and add the onions, fry gently until translucent; add the garlic and stir in the oil. Add the rest of the veg and the spices and sweat gently for a couple of minutes.

Pour on the vegetable stock and bring to the boil. Simmer gently for about half an hour until all the veg is well cooked. Add the teaspoon of sugar and back pepper to taste. Whizz in a blender until smooth.

I always leave the skin on peppers and tomatoes. Once it has been whizzed, the soup is quite smooth. However if you want to you can remove the skins either before you cook the soup or when it has come to the boil. You can stand over it and as the veg softens, the skins rise to the top and and are easy to remove from the pan with a slotted spoon.

Serve with crusty bread and cheese or for a special lunch, cheese muffins.

Hanging in there

I'm still here, still busy, still in the old house, but far too busy to write here.

I'll be back soon, I promise.

The disappointment continues

Well the gig of the year was a wash-out, personally speaking. First off, the motorway was closed so we had a long detour via Wales. This meant that we were an hour late for lunch with the other Outhousers. Nevertheless we had a great time and a great lunch with lovely people. So far so good.

Later we left the hotel in brilliant sunshine, got to the Gig in a bit of cloud, saw the first two groups and by then it started to rain. And rain. And rain. Halfway through Hayseed Dixie we had to leave. By then my muscles were shaking and I could barely move. Our clothes were dripping wet and we could wring out the water.

One hour later we were dried off and sitting in warm clothes in the local Tandoori! Three days later I am still suffering the effects of getting so wet and sitting in pools of water for an hour, cold water and neurological Lyme do NOT mix. We didn't even get to see Status Quo, the headline group at all.

I thought that if I got my op date on Monday that would cheer me up. Last Friday I was told I could have it as soon as possible, by Monday that date was mid October. The surgeon didn't think to tell me he was on holiday for the WHOLE of September.

So I'm still waiting.

To alleviate the boredom I've booked to see the Hayseeds again in Bristol on 23rd September, indoors. This time it had better be good!

Pear shaped

Well most of my plans for the end of summer are now on hold. I am wating for a small operation to undo the damage I did moving two paving slabs in the back garden. I saw the consultant yesterday and I should be booked in for 2 weeks time, I'll know for definite on Monday.

At least the end is now in sight; however, I had to cancel the trip to Denmark, next week's break in Cornwall and so far the holiday in Greece looks a non-starter too. We are still off tomorrow for one night only, as they say, to see the Quo and the Hayseeds and to meet up with other Outhousers. Full report to follow.