The smallest ones are the most aggravating

The greys are more settled now. Never having lived anywhere with central hating until now, they have finally realised that the radiators are not going to jump off the wall and chase them, the odd little noises they make usually indicate that they are getting warm and that sitting on a window cill above a warm radiator is treat worth being brave for.

Usually in the day time they are together more often than not and now the weather has turned colder they stay indoors. Last week they were on the sofa and around the living room. This week they are on my bed, the living room having been moved round yet again awaiting the impending delivery of the fireplace.

So here they are, together but apart, as always. Misty at the back has his customary little sly look, as though he is wondering what to do next, watching me taking the photos as Nelson begins to snuggle down for a snooze after a long leisurely wash. Misty is always on the go, nervous as a tick, waiting for the moment to do some damage, play with something or just plain be his annoying self. Nelson has a new peace about him and is calmer now, life after Goggins has altered the dynamic and he revels in not being bullied and in the much larger house to lose himself in.

(Misty Back, Nelson Front)

Not for long though. Misty waits for me to finish the pics then he pounces, biting Nelson's ears and trying to dislodge him from the warm bed. Nelson however is developing a whole new temperament too, he feels more secure now and so for once he gets the better of his smaller, more fiesty brother. A swift smack on the nose has Misty scurrying, beaten, down the stairs and the bang of the cat flap tells us he has gone off in a huff. Looking through the front window I can see he is already out in the road on the trail of the Skankies six houses down. Now those miserable cats he can always beat. This new bold brother of his has finally got his measure and it's all becoming a bit hard to take.

(Misty Front, Nelson Back)

Even as I write the end of this Misty has returned and tried again, the Skankies couldn't have been out to play. Nelson refuses to budge and so the bored little Misty goes into the back room and beats hell out of the growing pile of christmas presents instead.

Happy Holidays

It's Thanksgiving over the pond tomorrow, the official start of the 'Holiday' Season. In honour of this and as an early Christmas present to those of us here, those ever busy Hayseed boys have given us two previously unrecorded tracks as a thank you to all of us for supporting them over 8 long years of continuous gigging.

You can download them and as the man says 'spread them around' from here. Send them to your mates and educate them as to the true nature of Rockgrass. My fave has to be Father Christmas, a revival of an old Kinks track written well before the days of Asbos but as my fellow Hayseed fan Stellalover says, it sums up an Asbo Christmas perfectly. I think it has a touch of the Pogues about it too. It would make a great Christmas single and here they are giving it away for free. Thanks guys.

All planted out

Not my new garden unfortunately, for we are still awaiting the arrival of the ground-workers who have been coming 'next week' since August and even set definite dates and times three times but have variously been rained off or prevented from coming here by having to do remedial work for flash flood emergencies. So yesterday I gave up thinking my garden will ever have top soil and rushed out and bought even more big blue tubs and thus today it was that I planted 200 assorted bulbs into said tubs. Next year I will have flowers in my garden, they just wont be in the ground but in 30-odd varieties of blue frost free planters which are lining up along the patio like rows of little blue soldiers.

The other side of the (half built, brickies were rained off too)steps are serried ranks of herbaceous perennials looking very straggly and died down but which are actually humungous plants which will easily split into 2 or three pieces when they are finally released. These were scooped from my local National Trust garden the last couple of weeks.

I went on the Saturday to go to their annual Craft Fair and made a detour on the way out to check the sale area of the garden shop. Oh my! What delights awaited there. All these perennials, some quite unusual which had been marked down to 50p or £1 from a previous price of between £6 and £8. I hastily grabbed a dozen of the most obvious things to jump up at me and hastened home. I returned the following week with my Best Friend and bought another 16. Total outlay for 28 plants, £22. Result. Amongst these were a small tree, Eucryphia Lucida 'Pink Cloud' £1, a False Lily of the Valley, Maianthemum canadense 50p and a Lobster Claw, Clianthus puniceus 50p. If even one of these grows I'll have had my money's worth. Two hostas £1 each were bigger than some of the ones I have had in pots for 12 months pending this move. The jewel in the crown must be however, this one ,Anemone riparia, a North American native also known as the Tall Anemone.

If she survives, all this garden aggro will have been worth it. Now I just need that top soil to plant her in.

Nice to see you

Been awol awhile. Not my fault exactly but the last few days I've had a horrendous problem with my ISP and finally tracked it down to a problem at my local telephone exchange. This afternoon it was fixed in the good old fashioned way by a man actually going there apparently. I didn't know they did that anymore.

So now I'm back online but not through my AOL software which still continues to give us grief. I asked for my MAC numbers 3 days ago to migrate elsewhere, more a threat than a real commitment. Now today I receive a bargain deal from Sky drop through my letter box, less than a sixth of my current monthly charge and free calls too. Wonder if it is too good to miss?? I might just see after 6 months of hassle with AOL's unreliable service. I thought it was poor in the old house, since the move it's been 10 times worse. 8 years ago it was brilliant, I recommended them to everyone and argued with several. Now I'm beginning to change my mind.

Check out Durty Dan

Kitchen Crazy

After two whole weeks of seeing, breathing, reading and almost eating kitchen designs, diagrams, pc screens, mock-ups, plans and long hours in boring showrooms we finally decided on a kitchen last Wednesday. What is more, they delivered it on Friday. So there it sits in the alcove all wrapped in cerise shrink wrap waiting to be taken out and fitted. I spent almost all of Thursday on the net and the phone ordering appliances. Just the worktops to get now. That will be the easiest, it was the only element that WH and I agreed instantly on, we both fell in love at the same moment, casting out our vow not to have anything too quirky. So the worktops will be blue granite, quite a bright blue. Just have to get on the blower and order them tomorrow, our supplier conveniently having stock check days yesterday and Friday so not able to take orders.

The alcove though will remain an alcove. Because the overall space is large, over 6m square and has some structural features which we had to keep, it was difficult to get a cohesive layout that encompassed the entire area. One side of the room will be the dining area wherein lies said alcove. Having seen what effect the cerise wrap has had on the whole space we're now thinking sideboard. Old fashioned in name, our ideal is anything but. We're thinking something on the lines of the one above but in blue, bright blue. Oooh I want to order it now.

Just another little tune.

I first heard this at a Hayseed Dixie gig in Exeter a few years ago. Not one of theirs but it was being played over the pa before hand, Dave Bennett's choice perhaps?

Anyway have a giggle and try to ignore the pictures, hopefully not representative of what's in my fridge.

Welcome to the house of fun

OK, OK, I know the subject matter of this is not really relevant but the title sure sums my life up pretty well at the moment and as for the name of the band, Madness, that definitely says it all.

Nuff said.

Going out

I still don't seem to have much time to come here these days. Maybe it has something to do with WH being home all day after his shoulder op, two weeks ago. And then again maybe it has something to do with WH being in the throws of a real bad depression, so much so I'm not really sure how to cope any more. I've ordered loads of reading material from the net but of course it hasn't actually arrived just yet.

He's stopped taking all his meds as well which doesn't help and failed to appraise his GP of that fact at his most recent appointment. The GP is, however, writing a strongly worded letter to the local health authority as he is STILL awaiting a consultant's appointment that he was referred for in late January. Waiting list? They must have fiddled his entry on that one, it's now more like 40 weeks not 13.

Actually the real reason I've not been here is I've been out quite a lot, I need to get out on my own or I'd be going mental too. Today I braved the nearest IKEA, still some 70 miles away, and bought the last of a line of bookcase/dresser type things that will adorn the whole of one wall in the living room. I just have to put it together. I'm quite proud of my living room, all the flat-pack was assembled by my own fair hands. It took me ages and I'm doubtless much slower than a normal person but I quite enjoy doing it. Years ago I did all the bedroom furniture too and I must have a reasonable technique aided by extensive use of woodworking glue which never comes with the stuff but which I always use, but none of it has ever even thought about falling apart.

So tomorrow I've got a real treat. Assemble the latest cupboard then retrieve the last of my studio pottery collection from the old garage and arrange in said cupboard. Now that I will stay in for.

Settling in - part 2

Read part 1 here.

After the first few days of nervous exploration the family settled to it's new home fairly well. Goggins stayed near the house at all times, so long as he was fed and could find WH he was happy.

The grey twins quickly took over the neighbourhood like a pair of seasoned pros. Opening the garage door each afternoon in order to take out the hosepipe to water the pots of plants along the front wall, I would be followed by the grey pair who would shoot out onto the crown of the road and look up and down to ensure no other cats were lurking in the undergrowth. They roamed up and down the road together, sniffing out all the cars and checking neighbours gardens for rivals. They seemed to be saying 'Right lads let's be having you if you want a good scrap'. Of course in reality, if another cat did appear they scarpered back indoors or came up close to me. They did have a few skirmishes with a group we named the Skankies, poor bedraggled, underfed little scraps and to whose owner I would normally have returned them immediately after they riffled the bins and black bags for anything remotely edible. In essence these are hungry cats and good scavengers. I steered clear of the owners however, having heard their reputation and of the abuse previous complainants had received from them.

Misty as the more adventurous twin had a few test hisses and headbutts but Nelson kept his distance.

One cat they didn't like however was Josephine, sister of Napoleon, a stray who had moved in round at the other house. At the height of our wrangles with his owner we were told that 'his sister 'never strays'. Closer questioning revealed that of course Josephine wasn't his REAL sister, just the other household cat. Well now she does stray into our utility room, she wrecks our bin bags and pinches the grey's food. Naturally they chase her off at every opportunity.

Eventually they started to wander more. Misty has just extended his territory, returning the open space round at the other house and checking all points in between. Nelson sometimes goes with him. When he does they often come back together. When they don't and Misty slips home unnoticed, Nelson forgets where to go and panics. Several times a week, we were losing Nelson and we had to search him out. He was always in the same place on the doorstep of the old house. he shrieked and cried when he saw us but by then worked up into a nervous frenzy as only he can get, he proves difficult to catch and then won't follow us. Several times I have had to carry him home. Once I put him in the car and drove the 200 metres whilst he screamed and cried in the back. He hid for 3 days after that so I wont be repeating the the performance. Sometimes Misty will accompany when I go to fetch Nelson and because of that I discovered one reason for Nelson not coming home. he is afraid of a large ginger tom in the road and alley between the two houses. Misty doesn't even entertain the idea of fear. the ginger tom was stalking Misty from underneath a van the day I saw him. Misty just charged up to him, drawing him out hissing and spitting. Misty headbutted him straight between the eyes, spat and swiped him with a tiny paw. the ginger cat looked astonished and turned to follow us as we passed with a look of ' What the hell was that?' before retreating deep under the van. Now we have to walk Nelson round the long way as he wont go into that road at all, when I carried him once he freaked and cried and struggled, wrestled free and ran off.

A week into living here Goggins disappeared. He too was round at the other house and thus began three weeks of WH each morning at half past seven driving the van round, picking up Goggins in the van and driving him back before he went off to work. Goggins loved the van, he was high up and could see everything. He hated being caged in the car but sitting up on the front seat of the van he seemed to be waving like the Queen, 'Look at me with my own personal driver'. By the last few days he would wait for WH on the corner of the road as though for a bus. even with raging pneumonia he went there every night and stayed. Only the couple of days before he died did he stay home here.

Now Goggins has gone Misty has taken over as WH's personal minder and bodyguard. He sleeps with him and curls up on the sofa with him, following him everywhere in the house. Nelson too has become much more affectionate with WH and more erelaxed. Obviously Goggins, though an old man was till top cat and they deferred to him. Now they are both much more relaxed, other than the time we put a new door on the kitchen.

Originally our kitchen gave out into the utility and there was cat flap on the outside door. As it has become cooler and we still had no heating we put an internal door on the kitchen to keep out the draught from the unfinished utility. For the plan to work however we needed a second cat flap so we could keep the door shut. WH installed the same model as in the outside door but Nelson got confused. He thought his cat flap had moved and he was trapped. It took 4 days for him to get used to it and even then he shot through like rocket in case it grabbed his tail. Misty uses it but doesn't like it and has developed an elaborate ritual of tapping it loudly several times to announce the fact he is coming through. It did seem rather loud so as it as an internal door, WH removed the magnetic edging that seemed to be the cause of the noise. That only made things worse as the slightest breeze caused it to whine like a horror film ghost. Nelson wouldn't use it at all by then preferring to 'ask' us to open the patio doors for him. Eventually after a few days of that charade we replaced the magnet and just left them to it.

Lately Nelson has taken to sitting on the fence in the sun and on top of a pile of paving slabs. He is becoming more aggressive with next door's ginger wimp who disappears at the flash of an eye or a brief hiss. Nelson is becoming more in control. Misty is in control. He keeps an eye on the Skankies and Josephine and has made friends with an elderly major at the top of the road. He visits him in his front garden and sits in the sun on his doorstep. The major is delighted. We however know differently, his real purpose is to stalk the green woodpeckers who frequent the major's garden. So far they have the upper hand, but only time will tell.

So much to do, so little time

It's been hectic round here, mainly because loads of things in the house are now taking shape. By this weekend we will have heating. That will be very welcome. We might also (weather permitting) have a finished patio and garden wall so no longer will we be trailing tons of red sand through the house. Tonight the electrician is coming to fit the fire alarms too, nice not have to look at the bare wires which have been poking through the ceilings for about 8 months now.

Our trip to the Lovely Lyme Doc last week was good. We took the Depressed Painter and he spent the afternoon taking photos of the town centre whist we sat in the consulting rooms. I have been 'discharged' as far as Lyme goes. No more treatment. I just have to get the RA sorted now. It looks like I am stuck with that but then it does run in my family so it may not be Lyme related at all though we suspect the Lyme triggered it.

WH was not so fortunate, he most probably has been bitten at some stage as he has a number of systemic problems which so far the NHS has not addressed or investigated the cause of. He has only ever been treated for the symptoms. (Sound familiar?) So in a weeks time he starts the antibiotic treatment to see if it makes a difference. He's doing it for 3 or 4 months to see what happens. He can't lose anything and he may well gain a lot. Watch this space.

Last week too WH had the dreaded shoulder decompression which so far has been relatively pain free although stopping him from over-using his right arm is more problematic. The only real downside is his depression is worse, he's totally lethargic 50% of the time and very agressive the rest. Even the Grandkids yesterday, playing I-Spy in the car, suggested 'MD' for Miserable Granddad. I seem to be referee most of time in the constant battle between WH and the rest of the world.

Me? I just keep smiling, doing far too much and trying to be 'infant teacher' bright and jolly at all times. Only when I sit here at the desk letting my mind wander do I let my my pasted-on grin slip and wonder if it is all worth it.

Statins again

Picture courtesy of the Alliance for Human Research Protection

I have been overwhelmed by the information sent to me about the problems with statins. Thank you to all the people who did refer me to the right places. Thank you too to my net-friend who has always counselled about their over-promotion and extreme side effects, the inclination for that person to say a big 'I told you so' has so far been ignored and I am grateful for that.

What I have learned though is that these days we can't take anything our medics tell us at face value. I'm not GP bashing here so I hope that NHSblogdoctor doesn't get all irate on me. Our front-line doctors are not specialists that's what they're called GENERAL Practitioners, they are only as good as the information they are given. If the government and Big Pharma is pushing a certain view it is easier and less time consuming to accept that 'wisdom'. I didn't initially think I needed to challenge the advice that WH was given either, and I didn't. Now I have I am shocked.

One piece of my research has really brought the message home. Just watching this was like looking at WH in the litle box, ignoring the northern accent and substituting a deep westcountry burr, is like watching WH in the little tv screen. It could be him up there reciting his experiences. So it looks like this statin problem really has come to haunt us.

It is a sad indictment of these times that patients with complex medical problems now have to research their treatments themselves to ensure that the drugs they are prescribed for 'their own good' are not the cause of much of their wider illness. The drug companies have a stranglehold over the governments, the medics and the public at large the world over and make obscene amounts of money by peddling their 'non cures'. The big question is, how the hell do we stop them?

Happy Birthday to me ?

yes, it's that day again when I turn another year older. I haven't had quite the day I expected but the second half has been pretty good, culminating in a tea party more reminiscent of a five year old's not a fifty something's. The only thing missing was the jelly.

I think from henceforth however, I'm going to ban all family celebrations, as for the last several WH has been ill each time. Today is no exception, he along with oldest step daughter appears to contracting a particularly nasty virus. With his shoulder surgery scheduled in less than a week, it looks like we may be in for a postponement. Sod's law again conspires against us. Maybe not such a good birthday after all.

Statins

I seem to have been really busy the last few days and having WH with a major relapse of depression hasn't helped. All this could have been avoided had he not revisited the statin problem. With statins he is verging on suicidal, without them his cholesterol rises to atomic levels due to his hereditary high cholesterol, he makes it as well as eats it! Of course when he's taking them the whole mood dampening thing kicks in and then he lives on junk food, refuses 'proper dinners' with veg and his level rises even further as soon as he stops them. They also appear to make him extremely tired which dampens the mood further. We've tried the healthy eating kick and the plant ester supplements but it's extremely dificult for someone who a) hates most veg with a vengeance b) detests yogurts and c) would live on meat alone if he could or in a pasty or some other type of pastry if he could get away with that.....It's doubly difficult when my cholesterol level is low to mid range and I exist almost entirely on veg and fruit.

Conversations, if that's what you have with someone who answers only in monosyllables, have been fraught but there do seem to be some alternatives out there without the dreaded statins. My GP said there were 'other choices' but did not elaborate, his says 'take statins or drop down dead', not much choice there then. Next move I think, if I can persuade, him is to seek advice at a higher level, presumably there is a consultant out there who specialises in this type of thorny problem. Until then, we both suffer the horrid side effects. I'm still at a loss to explain however why the GP would put him back on them given the fact he was suicidal on them before, his quality of life on them is rubbish so they're not exactly preserving him for much.

Yesterday he was like a new man, unbeknown to me he had dropped the pills for a few days. It took 3 days for the mood effects to go. Feeling confident that I DID notice the difference, he promptly took one again last night. Looks like I'm in for another crap weekend.

Yet another NHS rant....

Whoops they did it again..... and this time it's not anyone in this household but someone locally using the same GP practice and whose treatment, or rather non-treatment, has shocked us to the core.

About 2 years ago this lady pulled a muscle in her side moving something awkwardly in the stockroom at work. A few days rest with a couple of analgesics a day had failed to improve the dull ache she felt. Six weeks later and the pain was still there. her GP said it would take time to heal, these things always did. A whole year later she was still experiencing pain in the affected side. Still the GP recommended, gentle exercise and to stop thinking about it so much. Eighteen months later and the pain was worse, she became yet another heart-sink patient," keep on taking the pain killers; take your mind off it; maybe you're depressed, have some antidepressants" ad nauseum. A appointment with a second GP, the first being on holiday reinforced the 'non-treatment'. Maybe it WAS all in the mind.

Eight weeks ago when the pain at night was unbearable her husband said he'd had enough and took her to A&E. After a few blood tests and such like she was kept in and had an MRI scan. The next day she was informed that she had something seriously wrong internally, most likely cancer of the liver. The following week she underwent a liver biopsy and another scan. Four weeks later she was finally told they had lost the results and she must undergo another. Last week she was admitted again for the second biopsy. By now weak and quite poorly it was questionable whether she was fit enough to undergo it. She had yet another scan and more tests. The day of scan dawned and she was told early on that she wouldn't be having one. The doctor would be down later to speak to her about it. By then the family was distraught, finally in the late afternoon a junior doctor appeared and bluntly told her there was no point having any biopsies, the cancer had spread to the pancreas, was widespread throughout her system. She failed to take it all in and in case was not told the prognosis in layman's terms, her poor husband had to relay the 'simple' explanation, "He means it's too far gone, they can't do anything". Cue to go home, although it was suggested a couple of days in the hospice might 'help her sort herself out'. A planned course of chemotherapy at the local centre of excellence had been cancelled. 2It wouldn't do you any good". Home she went to face a bleak future, no sign of any additional treatments for the now numerous weakening symptoms.

This week the chemo team rang, "Where are you? You should have started treatment today". On being told that it was all cancelled as it would be pointless all that was rubbished, "Nonsense, we can make you feel more comfortable, deal with some of the symptoms and give you a bit longer with your family. She declined the opportunity unwilling to throw her hat in with the NHS any longer.

National Health SERVICE? If that's what they call service you can keep it.

The honeymoon is over - again

I've had my last GP for just under two years. I've always got on with her pretty well and she has been very supportive of my Lyme treatment within the confines of this practice. I wasn't too impressed that she hadn't spotted the problem with my foot last year, see here, here and here , but then neither did 2 other GPs and a nurse, but overall I'm as happy as anyone relying on the NHS can be. Until yesterday that is.

As I have blogged about recently my Lyme symptom free period has come to an end and I am awaiting a consult with my LLD (Lovely Lyme Doc). Obviously then I have some symptoms to consult about. My hands are like wood which are trying to curl up at the sides as well as along their length and which are very painful most of the time, my feet which are trying to do the same and are painful to walk on, and stiffness everywhere for at least 2 hours each morning and then periodically throughout the day. All in all symptoms of Lyme related Rheumatoid Arthritis. My weight loss has slowed right down too, but given that I am not so active and that Lyme tends to make you put on weight I wasn't too worried about that in the light of my 3 stone loss this year so far.

So, my suggested treatment to help me put up with this lot until I can kill a few more spirochaetes with the appropriate medicines? Go on, have a guess. Walking. A 30 minute brisk walk 5 times a week. It will help me lose weight and keep up the good work. I should examine my diet again too, to rev up the weight loss which of course will make me feel a whole lot better. My carpal tunnel syndrome which only appears when the RA is at it's worst will go because I will have lost weight around my wrists. No mention of the horrid lumps which have formed on the palms and the soles of my feet and which went shortly after beginning the original Lyme treatment. No mention of anything for the pain. And if I want to lose weight even faster perhaps I could come off the beta blockers which I have taken for over 10 years because of strange palpitations, valve anomalies and other Lyme related heart problems, it slows me down and makes me sluggish and stops me losing weight.

"How do I walk that much when I'm in agony?" I asked. Answer: Think of the good it's doing you. Walking is apparently much better for you than anything else including hard digging as it raises your heart rate and gets you breathless, you can work your arms too as you walk to increase the calorie uptake. Having done a lot of digging in the last week, (3 hours a day on 3 separate days admittedly interspersed by lots of little rests), I have been removing concrete from the patio, raking and wielding a pick axe then sorting flints and stones for a drainage bed, I realise I was wasting my time I should have been walking instead.

I relayed all this to WH tonight as he dug out part of the lawn for a flight of steps, with the pick axe on our extremely heavy clay. If the doctor can do this at this speed without losing her breath then she's in the wrong job" he retorted, "I do it for a living and I'm still knackered and out of breath".

What is it with these GPs? Are they now only trained in certain illnesses/problems as determined by the latest fads of Her Majesties Government? What happened to old fashioned medicine, compassion and seeking to help the patient? The Hippocratic oath states "I will keep them from harm and injustice", perhaps it no longer applies to todays doctors?

Settling in - part 1

We're a two cat family again since the demise of Goggins a few weeks back and the fur babies are finally settling down. I still think of them as kittens although they were six a couple of months ago. The house was very strange to them at first but now Misty is taking it well in his stride and Nelson is getting there slowly.

The day of the big move I was awol in Exeter whilst WH and mates did all the hard work. Firstly he caught up the three babes (we still had Goggins then) took them round the corner in the van and deposited them in his new bedroom which was all furnished and lovely and complete with their toys, other favourite things, food, water and litter tray he'd made from an upturned manhole cover. So far so good. He shut the door on them and the move commenced. So did the noise. All three started howling as only a cat can and kept it up for a good couple of hours. I'm glad I wasn't here. When all was done about noon, WH duly opened the bedroom door so that they could have a look round. Misty shot off and wasn't seen again, Nelson and Goggins had decamped to either side of the window cill and would not be prised off, not no way. No food had been eaten and the litter tray untouched.

And there they stayed until I got home at about 7pm. Misty was still missing though how he could have got outside was a mystery but then he's that sort of cat. I wasn't so convinced, I was sure he was holed up somewhere and just knew that when his stomach got the better of him he'd re-appear. The other two still stayed put too. Eventually I began to sort out my room and make up the bed, emptying bin bags full of clothes into drawers and all the while talking to myself in a very loud voice.

The scuffling started in the corner of the soon to be second bathroom behind a pile of mattresses, then a whimper, then an anguished cry. Finally a little face peeped out of the side of the pile and the hiding place was revealed. Misty had been there all along, not a metre from the door of the bedroom. Nelson stayed on the window cill but Goggins bravely followed WH downstairs, had a quick, manly cuddle, a mouthful or two of tuna and went out of the back door to explore the garden with WH, down the side of the house and back in via the front door. Piece of cake. He'd got his bearings and went in and out a few times quite happily. Being senile I suppose he forgot where he was and so long as he had WH in his surroundings he was OK.

We tried to feed Misty and Nelson their supper in the hall, hoping they'd come downstairs. They didn't. I took some smelly fish on to the landing and they still stayed put. Eventually we gave up worrying and went to bed. Once in the dark, they shot out of hiding and jumped on my bed, only to spend the entire night as close to my head as possible to make sure it was really me. About 2am they were joined by Goggins who had spent the intervening period walking up and down the landing looking for WH and not quite finding him. I was second choice so I had to do. Needless to say I had no sleep whatsoever although WH did his customary 'head-on-pillow, sleep-for-10-hours' trick. At six am I got up and was followed downstairs by two starving, grey cats. I fed them then let them out into the garden, going with them for a few minutes. Nelson shot back in, Misty shot off over the fence. Nelson retreated back to bed for safety. Later I spent a few minutes showing him where the cat flap was but he hated it, he'd rather go through the patio door. Goggins was fine, had a second breakfast and went to sit on his garden chair which we had thoughtfully moved to the new garden and placed in the sun for him.

At about 10 I thought I'd take some stuff to the other garage, I drove up, parked, and then my neighbour accosted me, just as Misty peered sheepishly out from behind a bush glaring at me and staring at the old house. I must have been on form that day as I quickly grabbed him, shoved him in the back of the car, covered him with an upturned box weighted down with another heavier one, and drove the 200 metres back to the new house. He was mad at me for doing that and kept up a stream of abuse even whilst I got him out and put him back in the kitchen. I gave him some fish to reinforce the fact he was now 'home' and he forgot his anger for the thirty seconds it took him to eat it. Since then he always returns. Now Nelson is the problem. He goes visiting his old haunts and can't remember his way back.

Meet the gang 'cos the boys are here........

We haven't seen many birds in this garden yet. Several reasons 1) it still looks like a building site and at any given time there is likely to be someone out there making a noise of some description 2) the bird feeding station WH had for his birthday was really put in the wrong place, in the centre of an open space backed by a neighbour's eucalyptus tree 3) the resident cats are still staking out their new territory and patrolling fences to repel any potential invaders and 4) there are not nearly so many big trees. Despite the fact we are only 150m as the crow (or any bird for that matter) flies from the old place it really is quite a different habitat to get used to.

Yesterday, however, I took advantage of the good weather to remove the timber mountain from the future lawn, move all my pots of stuff awaiting transplant and had a general tidy up. I had to leave the cement mixer as it is needed later this week but 7 builder's dustbins were moved to the yard along with bags of sand and enough tools to stock a shop. I also moved the feeding station adjacent to the apple trees, with a neighbour's buddleia and a laurustinus nearby for extra cover.

This morning large as life I had a small flock of about 15 long tailed tits casing the joint and sampling the menu. They hung around for about half an hour until a neighbour's cat (thankfully not one of mine) appeared over the fence and looked menacingly at them. I took that as my cue to frighten him off and so the birds went too although half a dozen were back again in less than 5 minutes joined by a couple of great tits and a coal tit. I'm hoping this will be the shape of things to come and that they liked the new restaurant and will bring their mates. I now just need to attract the flock of goldfinches which fly past several times a day but as yet have not seen the niger waiting for them and it will finally seem like home.

Barking Mad

Before I moved I was looking for peace and quiet and a calmer existence than I had in the other house. After 23 years behind a noisy estate, the last 12 of which having noisy dogs next door I thought I was due a little quiet. Well the old adage 'you never know what's round the corner' certainly rang true here. I sit writing this to the sound of a dog frantically barking and whining. This will probably go on all morning. I've started recording the dates and times and find it sometimes barks for 5 hours at a time.

A chat last weekend with my neighbour about this only elicited the response that she'd never heard it and it was 'only' because the dog, a Jack Russell, was caged when everyone is out of the house, the reason being it chews the furniture when it's alone. The problem which became apparent when we were building the extension has worsened, we thought it was due to strange noises and builders being around, we didn't realise it's ALWAYS like this.

My hands are now tied on all this, if I take further action, ie. involving the local council noise people I would have to declare this as an impediment to a sale should I wish to sell the house at a later stage, it's part of these new Home Information Packs. Seemingly I may as well talk to the dog as talk to the owner for all the good that did.

How do I get out of this one? Will my ears ever be free of barking dogs? This one is slowly driving me nuts, I can't think and I can't seem to escape it. Stressed out just doesn't begin to cover it.

So that's how they shorten the waiting lists

This is the diary of someone I know on a NHS waiting list.

Mid January: Patient goes to their GP and is referred to a speciality clinic.

February: An appointment is received for 9 March.

9 March: Patient turns up to the clinic and is told that they had been sent the wrong date by mistake; there was no one there to see them. A new appointment is made.

12 March: Patient attends first session at clinic which is basically filling in some forms and a brief 5 minute chat. An appointment is made for to begin a course of treatment in April.

April: The treatment clinic appointment is cancelled by telephone the day before it is due to take place because the patient has been referred to 'the wrong type of person'. A referral to another clinic will be made.

May: Patient calls up and asks why they had heard nothing. They are told that their referral letter has been lost and the clinic will have to ask the GP for another one.

Early June: GP calls the patient and says he has been asked to do another referral, do they still need it.

Mid June: Patient receives a letter for an appointment on 9th Sept .

Late June: Patient receives a phone call saying the appointment date on the letter was wrong and a new one would be sent. Receives another letter changing it to 10th Sept

9 Sept: Patient receives a phone call cancelling tomorow's appointment because the referral should have been sent to the Primary Care Trust and not the Community Health Team so the referral has to be made again.

NHS Choices has this to say about waiting lists:

Since 01 January 2006, no patient in England should have to wait more than 13 weeks from when they see their GP and the decision is made that a referral to a specialist is necessary, and their first outpatient appointment.

Well we know better don't we? This way, the patient gets off the waiting list and has to start again, best of all they receive no costly treatment so are saving the NHS money too. Wonderful isn't it? There is no involvement from any medically qualified staff at all, it can all be managed by pen pushers.

RESULT! A cost saving and a shorter waiting list to boot. And I thought that the NHS was here to treat us.

It's just a shame that NHSblogdoctor is still on holiday, he'd enjoy this one.