.... of sunshine .......

Giving thanks today for sunshine …. even MORE sunshine that is.  The West of Scotland is not famous for sunshine, so when it visits us Life Feels Special.  And amazingly, over these last 4 weeks the sun has been with us for most of each day. 

4 weeks.  Already 4 weeks.  A month.  Every day of which feels like a lifetime….

Bereavement is difficult at any time, and, in our present scenario of lockdown and social distancing because of the Coronovirus Covid-19 Pandemic, I guess now is as challenging a time as any for learning to cope with/accept the grief that overwhelms ….. and eventually to rediscover how to live alone again.  

Apologies.  I thought I could get a grip today and Communicate. But words are eluding me.  

I guess today has been a good day.  Today being Sunday, I celebrated by (1) Getting up at 9am to let the dogs out for a comfort break and breakfast, and then (2) we all went back to bed to indulge in a Long Lie.  

Once I finally crawled out from under the duvet we hit the park for half an hour, and then I was relieved to find I could spend an hour or so Engaging With The Stuff That Needs Attention.  

My initial attempts are about just going through whichever area of the house is being tackled, and sifting related things into the same place, and then what remains into recyclable goods and rubbish.  Outlets for things that need to be re-homed are not available just now because of lockdown, so I have the luxury of having to take my time over The Sorting.  

Once current restrictions are lifted I am hoping to be able to have achieved enough organisation to have bagged items ready to take to the identified destinations…… and thereby reduce my current overwhelming chaos into a more manageable (and less daunting) Project.

That is The Intention. Meantime The Dogs Need To Go Out.

Thank you for your company. Be safe.  Hang on to sanity with me, and we’ll see where we can get to along this rocky road.

Water Under The Bridge

There has been much water under the bridge over these past eleven years......

After my Father-in-Law died of his dementia, I spent a turbulent year trying to find permanent employment ..... my former post as a senior clinician in the NHS had passed to another ...... I now needed to explore a different line of employment as the stresses I was experiencing in the NHS had been increasingly overwhelming before Domino Joe suddenly needed 24 hour care..... we wanted him home with us and guessed we had about five years of Caring before he would depart.... but it was much less .....

This blog became a recovery vehicle from The Life That Had Been and the disappointments that Life sometimes bestows ....an outlet for a Carer's cares.... and a Safe Space for ..... well, for anything that came up.

Eventually employment was secured, establishing a challenging new "normal" in The City that somehow left blogging behind... and life held more unexpected demands.... the diagnosis of breast cancer.... 12 hours of surgery and reconstruction..... chemotherapy and radiotherapy...... and slow recovery...... our two remaining  chooks Myna and Maybelline (who needed more attention than I could now give them) moved to a new home with a whole flock of friends, in a retired farm garden and more freedom than they could believe .... and both resumed laying indicating how happy they were again...... Bramble grew into a beautiful blue Lady Standard Poodle ...... and I found I had passed the age when I had expected to retire, with another 6 years before I would reach the Revised Retirement Age and State Pension, and my beloved TH not only reminded me of my forgotten NHS pension but generously wanted to provide for me .... ever the kind and chivalrous gentleman and My Wonderful Hero! ... and I became A Lady Of Leisure ...... Holly, a miniature poodle puppy and Mud Magnet joined us one Christmas to fulfil a dream TH admitted of living with two dogs ...... busy days that galloped along almost without being recognised for the idyllic existence they now present......

Three weeks ago yesterday my beloved partner, "TH", The Hubby, died of Pancreatic Cancer.  Diagnosed exactly thirteen months prior, and given the prognosis of just 3 to 6 months.  Before that we had spent about 5 years trying to get answers to health problems that were besetting his life.  The oh so typical story of so very many people who are eventually diagnosed as Stage Four "PanCan"..... there are only four stages and there is no effective treatment at this stage, though thankfully a rapid blast of radiotherapy initially helped control much of his pain, and he gladly grasped the offered chemotherapy that gave him .... gave us..... about five months without needing morphine ..... but then two months after completing the course of chemo the pain came back....

Supporting My Beloved through these months..... sharing the hope against hope ..... seeing the pain increase, the painkillers increase, his concentration and hold on life be taken away, his stamina fade, his strength recede, his morale eroded ..... was a heartbreaking and overwhelming saga.....

My Beloved stepped gently into the Next Realm just two days before UK went into the present "lockdown" with the Covid-19 coronovirus pandemic.  Thank God he was spared this scenario...... and he was spared the dementia he so dreaded that had ended the lives of both his Mum and Dad......

And now it is again Easter Day. Always a powerful and poignant time of year.  And this year especially so.  And my favourite spring flowers are out in the garden...

I need to find out who I am again...... deal with Things That Must Be Dealt With ..... get thru the grief ...... learn to accept this new "normal" ...... accept the tears that appear uninvited and unannounced ....... look after our lovely furry family  ...... and survive the social isolation that imprisons us all just now.  My life is like many others .... none of us has a guidebook, nor a blueprint to help us along.  Each of us, ultimately, is alone.

You are welcome to share whatever pops up as Chickpea once more laces her big boots, shoulders her backpack .... wipes her eyes again .... and steps out again along the Blogging Highways and Byeways to look for flowers.

Tippytoeing where Angels fear to tread.......

Well .... here's A Thing ...... rediscovering that I can once again access my long-neglected blog which proved so Helpful A Thing in the past .... gee.... long past that is...... Life and Work intervened...... and a year or several.... er.... ok ....... a bit of honesty required ........many years have passed.... now I need to both rediscover How To Do This, and Start Doing .......  but first  the grown up (now 9 years old!) Bramble and her Little Sister (who shall be introduced along the way) require their supper .......

Meantime, Down in the Deep Dark Dell…..

With all the rain of the last few weeks - and more today - there’s been plenty of growth in the lawn.  I think ours is a ‘field grass’ lawn, with a few bits of better class turf which have been bought in along the way to bolster the gardener’s morale.  What we actually need is a robust, low-growth, sturdy, fine-leafed, dog-pee-proof, maintenance-free, hen-proof type of grass which grows extremely slowly…….  Any suggestions?

Having pulverized said grass into submission with the mower I now find I need to crash on the sofa for 6 hours. … well, for 30 mins minimum.  Just taking the dog out has a similar effect. This fatigue and lethargy may relate to the recent finding of raised blood pressure, which will be addressed with doc tomorrow morning.  That Easter Wipeout Virus may be involved, as a persisting erratic cough has been surfacing intermittently since then.  And the recent growing realization that the HRT was probably a significant factor re headaches, low morale, increasing irritability, poor quality sleep, joint pains and recurring hot flushes instigated a stop……. some relief for 5 days, but then the sleep and flushes got even worse, so back to the formula of several months ago which made a HUGE difference – for about 2 weeks…………. Oh, to have been born male………

I guess this current ‘deep, dark, dell’ holds a few insights as well as multiple chewy beanstalks for the old cow ….(reference to my Latin teacher’s attempt many moons ago to remind her pupils of the vocal stresses considered necessary when reading pentameter verses out loud….. visit ‘ChickPea Risotto’ to read the rhyme)………

As a teenager I lived for several years in deeply distressing gloomy despondency.  My teenage friends didn’t seem to relate to this at all, so it was mostly held within.  I confided a little in my parish priest, a kind and wise gentleman (with a wife and 3 daughters) who did his utmost to guide, support and encourage my spiritual journey and development through those troublous times. 

As my family didn’t even begin to acknowledge or communicate about ‘internal stuff’ I don’t suppose they had much of a clue, really – I was just their moody Youngest who wouldn’t ‘snap out of it’ (….like there was a choice, eh?)

For me, it was just how/where Life Was.  It never occurred to me that there might be a REASON for it – like the hormonal shifts / imbalances which assail some at puberty.  I hope that today’s parents, priests, GPs and youngsters are better informed.  But I now realize that the Dark Places I have been bogged down in for these last many weeks of Great Grief seem to have a very similar terrain to those swamps encountered in teenage years.  Hormonal Gymnastics seems very likely to be a related, and maybe the causal, factor.

Insights like these don’t feel like a lot of help, however.  GP or Specialist just says, “stay with these tablets a bit longer and see if it all settles down”, or, “well, I have just the answer to the sleeping problem – take these”……. so the joint pains return, irritability sneaks in below the radar and escalates into epic proportions before muggins notices Something Is Amiss.   

Fortunately I have generous friends who accept me as I am.  Such kindness is a gift more precious than anything, and such Friendship is awesome………

Depths of Doldrum Duvet.......

ChickPea is wandering around in the Doldrums and has lost her map at the moment. Somewhat bogged down and struggling to find a way forward thru tangled briars, bindweed and stinging nettles…..

It is a well known fact of Life that unresolved anger can hide quietly in the internal dustbin until a new, maybe exceedingly trivial annoyance, lifts the lid and allows the whole shebang to explode with a response completely out of proportion to the triggering incident.  I grew up with a Much Loved who held such anger, and it is not an easy one to live alongside.

But I don’t think I had realized that Disappointments and Sadnesses can have a similar cumulative effect. 

Disappointments and Sadnesses can appear to have been fully  accepted, dispersed and assimilated into your Life’s Rich Tapestry……… but nonetheless there can be a heap of accumulating disappointments getting bigger when you’re not looking – you’re just doing your best to get on with survival and putting one foot in front of the other. …..

And THEN there’s the possibility that such a heap will reach a point where it just topples over and overwhelms you…….

Horrid “illness” bugs, working too many hours in the week, childlessness, bereavements, lost jobs, missed opportunities, public ‘fluffs’ in rare solo singing opportunities,  friendships that have foundered – or seem to be foundering, personal potential that hasn’t found a way of nurture or development …….. generally accumulated clutter.............. and far, FAR too much rain………. and, no doubt, age and hormones………

 All of these seem to feature in ChickPea’s current landscape, blotting out blessings and blurring perspective.  Most had been lying down, so quietly slipping under the radar…….. seemingly ‘sorted’ (as Glasgow would put it) ……but ALL now jumping around with great vigour ....... proving a little tricky to handle and impossible to ignore………… worse to catch and deal with even than recalcitrant hens ……..

I guess some sunshine would help………. (it would certainly help the hens).

So I guess this is by way of apology to all who have any contact with me……… I haven’t been blogging, I haven’t been visiting around the blogosphere, I haven’t been my usual interested, outgoing and affirming self, I really haven’t been much fun to live with, and, I guess, I haven’t fully been ME……. 

I know the grass will grow over all, but it may take a bit longer yet to create a lawn ………

A Most Mighty Mystery

For much of my life, the ‘Easter Season’ has been a major focal point of my life.  Lent, Holy Week and so to Easter…….. a yearly recurrence with ecclesiastically structured prompts of silence and solitude to stop, review, reflect, assess and reassess ……  meeting myself……..who I am…… what I am……… where I am at ……..  Not an easy process, and rarely a comfortable or enjoyable undertaking.  But, sure as light follows darkness and eggs is eggs, this time of year seems to require of me a certain engagement with the essence of mortality…… a kind of ‘head to head’ with fundamental reality. 

For me, this Lent has involved a looking back over my shoulder, whispers from the past, glimpsed shadows of The Loved But Lost  who have passed on to eternity …….. renewed recognition that Water Passes Under The Bridge, and the twigs and ‘Pooh sticks’ of everyday existence catch in the reeds for a moment, then swirl away out of sight and into the far distance………….        The hopes and dreams of what the future just might hold fading in the harsh glare of Time’s headlights.

And so we reached Palm Sunday last weekend, then on into Holy Week. 

Today we approached the Maundy Thursday liturgy.  Stark contrasts of a rich sung mass (this year to be the Rheinberger setting) with the slightly embarrassing simplicity of feet being washed; the clash of fancy ornate robes and vestments with the everyday action of taking, breaking and sharing bread and wine.  So much Big, Bright, Shiny and Lavish……. and then the shocking and harsh removal of all our accustomed church furnishings and embellishments ……..  the solemn procession to a symbolic garden……. and then a darkened, chastened church…… and silent vigil …. the waiting for the end of it …….

So it would be, as so many times before.  The rituals stirring up the hearts and minds and feelings of the assembled congregation in so many ways……. some engrossed in the act of worship…….  others just there for the music….. some appalled at the time it was all taking…….    others perplexed by the sheer drama……. Tumultuous, as at Gethsemane.

So it would be, and, I guess, so it was. 

TH has been floored by an ‘upper respiratory tract infection’ for the last two weeks or so, sore throat, hacking cough, sleepless nights, papertrail of tissues…….. not a chance for him of singing the glorious Rheinberger this time. 

Ten days behind him, finally feeling flesh succumbing to the inevitable last Sunday,  I thought I would at least manage to be a part of the assembly tonight.  Rehearsing tonight I realised this hope was futile.  The voice was strained, and though in tune (so far as the dull deaf ear could tell) was probably not particularly pleasant and doubtless far from reliable. Risk assessment  for the occasion indicated strategic withdrawal was mandatory.

So I took the dog out to romp with her canine companions in the gathering dusk, marvelled at the beauty of first-laid eggs from our junior hens, and moped with my husband. 

Head to head with the disappointment and devastation of not being where I wished to be, nor doing what I wanted, and not even feeling up to returning later on to creep in to the dim and desolate silence, finally sheds yet another perspective upon fragile Mortality.

NB. Backing up your computer – just DO it………….

As Scotland finds snow and low temperatures* are maintaining a vice-like grip, my computer has been rebuilt and I can now get online again……….. 

The hard drive turned up its toes in a terminal fashion just days before we went to Kirkcudbright for a brief holiday.  TH kindly arranged replacement surgery while we were away, and then dealt with loading of the many essentials and necessaries (what a kind and lovely guy he is), so now I am tracing lost email addresses, etc …….. and finding this requires more time and energy than is available  just now.  It all demonstrates, rather too well, that backing up your computer is never a waste of time………

(*Temperature of -10 degrees centigrade at 5pm this evening)

Bramble counting sheep on holiday near Kirkcudbright (with thanks to gordonrasmith for the photograph)

And NOW.........

Dearest Reader - Greetings.  Sorry to be away so long.  Here is a ‘catch-up’.

My left arm is now nearly healed after the final fracas 3 weeks ago with the Springer/collie cross dog that we had been trying to re-home.  My right hand is healed but quite sore at times after the first fracas within 24 hours of his arrival with us 6 weeks previously.  He is a beautiful dog, an excellent retriever of tennis balls, and shows strong evidence of some previous obedience training - but he also has serious issues which the Dogs’ Trust at West Calder promised would be addressed carefully before they would consider any attempt to re-home him again.  (So I am not at all sure why he was re-advertised just 2 weeks after we had returned him with a full and honest report.  I sincerely hope he doesn’t bite again, because he wasn’t messing about).

We now have another new 4-footed member of the family.  She is a black,13 and a half-weeks’ old, Standard Poodle puppy called ‘Bramble’, who went on holiday with us to the Ardnamurchan Peninsula for a few days, and is just gorgeous!  She is fantastically soft, very cuddly, will now (usually) ‘sit’ to command and has learnt ’lie down’ over the past 2 days, retrieve a ball from across the room, stay dry all night till her toilet trip into the garden the next morning, and falls asleep whenever the chance arises.............

Last Saturday saw us take a trip towards Biggar to replenish our depleted feathered flock, returning home with 3 new hens, currently too young to lay.  However, Meena did NOT appreciate newcomers to the coop, shouting her disgust to everyone within earshot......... continuously......... this was upsetting the 3 newbies, upsetting both human heads of the household, and in serious danger of upsetting the neighbours. Meena can also be a bit of a bully, and the smallest bird, at just 14 weeks, is still really quite small and likely to be quite vulnerable.  So Meena and Myna were removed to a box in the back room for the first night, being returned to the outside run an hour after the others were up in the morning.  Myna got on with having her breakfast, but Meena was still not having it.  Continuous shouting saw her returned to the indoor box for the morning.

Rapid arrangement of alternative accommodation for the 2 mature birds was necessary, to give the newbies chance to settle in and grow a bit bigger before the Big 2 get back to the regular henhouse again. The shed was therefore emptied to find the spare pen and erect this next to the house, with a new carpet of bark chippings, feed, water and a night/laying shelter for Meena and Myna.  The established henhouse and run was also cleaned out and refurbished with fresh bark, feed and water for the newbies. 

A couple of hours remaining before Evensong allowed re-potting of the geraniums for over-wintering indoors. There had been ice on the car windscreen that morning, so this seemed like a good move.  We will do the same for our lovely bay tree once we have some fresh compost - having barely survived the low temperatures of last winter it probably has no chance at all of getting through another winter outside..... tho survival indoors is probably also unlikely .......

Master Catlet thought the whole proceedings were for his entertainment, creeping around and checking out the newcomers – these were ‘perching’, so were evidently ‘birds’ and required serious scrutiny, as opposed to the ground-loving older hens who are noted for standing their ground when Bart gets closer than they consider respectable.

Bramble wanted to join in too and ensure a riotous melee....... She was most disgruntled to find herself removed to the kitchen until all activities had been completed.

What hilarity ! 

We have yet to settle into a harmonious routine.  Further re-arrangement of hen-housing will be necessary for the winter, as the back of the garden is further away and quite chilly when the temperature drops.  Names are being discussed. And we have the luxury of another week of holiday to be scheduled before the end of the year - hoping for a few days near Kirkcudbright to give Bart his first holiday and allow  Bramble to run on the beach every day.

I shall try to be back soon.  All best wishes, x

And then it all went wrong.......

Since I last wrote, we have been having further problems with Hannimal Hector – serious biting (without any warning), and a major tail-bushing fracas between Dog and Cat (fortunately Cat is young, VERY fast and relatively sensible, so remains uninjured....not so ChickPea........).

We were loathe to give up on the dog without first trying to properly – and appropriately - address the behaviour. So a fully validated behaviourist, provided by the Dog’s Trust, visited us last Friday, spending a significant amount of time with us, giving us most valuable advice and a very clear programme of exercises to follow. She was kind, and very sensible. “Be safe” was her Ultimate Directive.

All seemed to be going nicely over the weekend as TH worked with the programme. Dog seemed quite comfortable with the first exercises, gradually progressing from Day One to Day Two of the set regimen.

Come Monday, after he had been breakfasted and well (and quietly) walked by ChickPea, she felt the time was right for her to start on the earliest exercises with him too. Not so. Dog was NOT having it.

So Hector went back to the Dog’s Trust at the beginning of the week.

It was the only option. Each time he bit someone he was building his confidence, and under-mining ours. Not the way to a happy, safe or joyous future for the four of us (let alone bringing the hens into the equation). He had made some good progress with us along the way – he was beginning to walk more comfortably on the lead, he was a little less restless in the house, he was allowing TH to touch him a little - but we were not up to giving him what he needs just now to deal with the biting issues. We hope that returning him to the rescue centre with extensive reporting of the issues which arose will assist rehabilitation for his future.

But we are still sad that he had to go, and the home is desolate without a canine member of the household..........

Staying Awake on a (late) Summer’s Afternoon

(With considerable difficulty, that is.....) 

These past few weeks have been hectic.  Hannimal Hector the new hound requires some serious behaviour modification, especially where golden Labradors are concerned.  Also in terms of basic handling (difficult to manage a dog with a cut paw if he doesn’t like his feet being touched), basic walking on a lead, relaxation when there’s more than one person in his company, and grooming. 

Who knows the ‘Why’ – perhaps inadequate basic handling when he was a puppy, perhaps an attack by a golden Labrador - but certainly all this needs to be remedied before we will have a dog we can even trust a little.  Dog Behaviourists appear to abound on the internet – tho credibility and qualification seem rather less available.  As the Dogs’ Trust have an in-house ‘behaviour advisor’, we have made arrangements and an appointment to gain guidance ASAP, well aware that we may inadvertently be presenting conflicting or inconsistent demands without realizing that we are so doing. 

In the longer term we are planning to attend Dog-person Training Classes (aware that these occasional signs of aggression need to be a thing of the past by then) and hope that occasional forays towards Agility Classes may be good for body and mind (as these sessions appear to clash with choir rehearsals, he’ll have to make do with ‘occasional’ I’m afraid).

Get-along-ability with the Feline Fella is making (rather slow but) steady progress – lots of space-sharing (initiated by cat, including managing to spend the night in the dog’s kitchen when ChickPea was away), and respectful nose-to-nose sniffing (initiated by both dog and by cat).

Today a new sleeping place has come into the house.  Bought for Dog, (as we will be going away on for a few nights’ holiday and a moveable ‘known’ bed seems like a good idea to help Dog cope with more new experiences) Cat was into it just moments after it was accessible, checked it out carefully and pronounced that it could stay. Surprisingly he then settled elsewhere, allowing Dog to take possession.

Peace has now settled upon us – TH asleep on the sofa, Big Cat asleep on the chair, and Hector Hound snuggled into his new bed.  Disturbing the harmonious silence to initiate dog walk in the park can wait another five minutes........

Welcome.......

The dog-shaped gap in the household has been unbearable. Thank you to the West Calder Dogs’ Trust for providing a new family member to enliven our lives.......

A New Star has Entered Heaven

A much loved friend died recently, aged just 51.  We maybe didn’t see him often – one of those people you hope to get to know better in the future.  He was one of those rare people who brings sunshine and hope into a dark day, who finds an unexplored corner in your troubled situation which proves to hold a key to a way forward.  A fine guitarist, adept mediator, coffee connoisseur, encourager of the downhearted........ a thoroughly fine chap.  Words are inadequate to describe him.  His passing leaves an unfillable gap in very many lives.  May you rest in peace, Tim.

Reluctant Christian

It occurs that maybe I mis-named this blog. Maybe I should re-name it the name of this post. ‘RC’, even. (Now, THAT might be fun – limitless potential for confusion - I’m sure I could find all sorts of interpretations of ‘RC’, eh .....)

So why didn’t I ? Come to that, why don’t I........... why won’t I ?

Part of it is the intervening history of this label ‘Christian’. Christ, the historical person, MUST have been quite a man. To have influenced individual people to such a degree that they gave their lives to take His teaching throughout the world and effect such an impact upon the globe, the Man Who Started It All MUST have been Quite A Man.

But also over the intervening hundreds – ok, thousands - of years , many, many crimes have been committed under the banner of ‘Christianity’. Do I REALLY want to be associated with such a history by embracing the label of ‘Christian’ ?

You see where I’m coming from ?

But what of ‘The Man’ – that astonishing figure that started it all – without the assistance of newspaper, TV or internet.

And what of the remarkable people – both males and females - who have been astonished, inspired and motivated to positively influence, astonish and inspire the world – all through their own personal understandings and encounters with ‘The Man’. Many of whom gave up their lives because they refused to deny this faith.

Maybe I do feel reluctant – and perhaps scared – to wear the label of ‘Christian’. If this means ‘being Christ-like’, seeing the world ‘with the eyes of Christ’, caring as passionately about the world as did ‘The Man’ himself, extending love to those who need love - then rather a lot seems to be required.

So – REJECT all this ‘church’ and ‘Christ’ stuff - why bother with the whole ‘Christianity’ thing at all ?

Well....... there’s the heart of the question. Try as I have through the years to turn away from this way of life, the integral demands involved, the personal questions and challenges raised........... Try as I may, turn and run.....wherever........however............. whatever.......... I keep meeting the essential truth and challenge of ‘The Man’.......Christ himself........... and repeatedly encounter that amazing love that will not let you go..........

‘Reluctant Christian’ ? ........ Too right. But, somehow, and equally, ‘Committed Christian’.

“I am a collie dog – and I can run, and run, and run all day...............”

Our beloved MurphyMutt took his heritage very seriously. He was a Border Collie dog, and collies are loyal, and responsible, and collies are bred to run all day.


As a mature ‘rescued’ dog, he was a chap with a past – and we shall never know quite what that history held. That he ‘had issues’ is beyond question, but he was such an honest dog that for these there were probably good reasons buried deep in that past.



Over the last few weeks he had slowed down a bit – it seemed likely to be the heat, it was getting to me, and he was an old dog, after all........ but TH felt there was more..... and when I thought about it, I had to agree that he was probably right........



The vet agreed he was looking basically ok.......... but his temperature was way, way up..... this was not only unexpected, but indicated we had a very ill dog, even tho he didn’t look it..........



Over the next week his experienced but perplexed vet tried industrial doses of each and every medication that could reasonably be expected to bring his fever down.....his bloods were essentially ok, but his liver function was deteriorating....we gave him ice cubes in his drinking water, and he was thrilled to be allowed more ice cream than any dog should ever EVER eat....... but each day his temperature was a little higher.... to a level beyond that where he should have been fitting........... he just looked a little more apologetic...... and increasingly weary....... he was no longer managing to jump accurately into the car........ he stopped eating his most favourite treat of an apple....... and then, on Tuesday, dog food became too much effort to eat, and we knew there could be no more hope....... and his temperature was even higher - now 107.5...... and tho he was still clearly enjoying cat treats, and taking them oh, so very, very gently, we knew that time had run out ........... such a fine, brave dog should not be expected to have to stay with us any longer.



The time had come to allow him rest.



Our beloved collie dog, who had just spent 20 minutes padding round the local park, walking, and walking, and walking....... who would not stop....... doggedly placing one foot in front of the other, and holding in his head and in his heart “I am a collie dog, and I can run, and run, and run all day..............” .

......... and now, at last, he can run easily...... and free......... in Elysian fields.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

This week as was........

S’funny, but there’s a HUGE difference between living with 4 chooks and living with just 2 ...... not least the difference in the number of eggs reaching our kitchen ......... and our remaining 2, Meena and Myna, are the two noisiest hens EVER........ Out of care and consideration for our neighbours, they have been brought into the house each night this week, allowing the neighbourhood to sleep on past 4am..... and through 5am as well ......... we nearly overslept beyond 7am today – an unheard of possibility through these last few years !

Our (chicken-friendly) vet reassures us that there was no health link in losing Eena and Moe so soon to each other, that this was truly ‘just sad luck’. As relative ‘newbies’ to hen-keeping, this has been most welcome news for us, as ‘care shortfalls’ should always be recognised as a possibility unless you are an experienced keeper.

But, yes......... 2 chooks is just 2 individual chooks who each go their separate ways........... while 3 chooks is ‘a flock’ that moves in sequence and behaves as a whole new entity, seeming to help the participant chooks behave most naturally as themselves.

So we are now scouring the Scottish internet for prospective new housemates for Meena and Myna, hoping this time to be more successful in finding a white egg-layer and a green or blue egg-layer to help us identify more quickly which hen is off-lay. We’ll let you know how we get on.........

Time for a Randomized Controlled Double-Blind Trial......

A friend was ‘talking scientific’ the other day, and describing their need to organize life somewhat and double check recent experience and insight by conducting a related double-blinded randomized controlled trial.

As you may know, if you have followed this blog, my former life – before I became a fulltime carer – was closely aligned with clinical practice based on insight from scientific trials.  I realised there was something missing from my current life........

Anyhow..........

Tonight is Friday.  Monday is a Public Holiday.

So...... Tonight I decided to run my OWN double-blinded randomized controlled trial. 

Test substance :    fine bottle of Vintage Port

Randomized :        glass is being put anywhere within reasonable reach – aiming to be at least 90 degrees re-aligned each placement

Controlled:            because I measure the liquid very VERY carefully into the glass .... none spilled ........ 150mls each pouring.....

Double-Blinded :  Yup, I’m keeping ma eyes closed each time ah swallow..... ( I guess I COULD wear a blindfold, but it'd make pouring inaccurate........)

“How’s it going ?”

Very nicely, Thank You.  Thanks for calling by – have a great weekend.     x