Happy New Year holiday

Yarcombe, January 2022 (Photo credit: L from family JJL&J)

Happy New Year to my very few but dedicated readers. There's been a break in transmission, not so much because of the holidays but because of a rare interlude when I just haven't felt like sitting down and writing.

One of the reasons may be that some time ago I developed a low-key but significant pain in my left arm (intermittently from forearm to neck), which in the last few days has prevented me from lying down comfortably in almost any position. After ignoring it for as long as possible, it has now become important to work out what is going on, and with only a moment's consideration, I feel fairly sure it's because of how I've been sitting at the computer. Today I switched the mouse to the other side, and more importantly I replaced the exercise ball I've been sitting on with my proper computer chair. My new posture feels much better, so fingers crossed that this is reflected in a less hurty arm.

Christmas with friends in Nottingham was lovely, and I have become a convert to the strange yet delicious combination of champagne and advocaat for Christmas morning, which effectively softens the focus for much of the rest of the day. I'm not a fan of either champagne or advocaat on their own, so it was quite a surprise to find that they taste rather good together. A lot of cheese was given and received, Christmas dinner was at a local curry house, and there's really no more to say about that holiday.

There was uncertainty over whether we could get together for New Year in Devon until the very last minute. Thankfully we went ahead - we were a party of 15 housed in a majestic Grade II listed manor house said to have been owned by Sir Francis Drake. It has been updated since the 16th century and was generally warm with plenty of baths, toilets, showers and hot water, which are the essentials of a comfortable holiday in mid-winter. 

Sheafhayne Manor (Photo credit Mr M)

It was also enormous - 11 bedrooms, 4 staircases, a large lounge, a small lounge and a games room with full size snooker table as well as a huge dining room (with piano), kitchen and many pantries and store cupboards and utility rooms and outbuildings... There was also enough crockery and cutlery for about 100 people, and two working dishwashers. We even discovered a huge 'ballroom' at a lower level containing further delights which we didn't really make use of, what with having plenty of space and things to do in the main house. If I were forced to criticise anything it was that the lighting was a little underpowered for my elderly requirements. Some might complain that the internet access didn't extend beyond the lounge, but that was fine with me. 

In the olden days on holiday with this group of friends there was usually some discussion in the evening about the next day's walk, and a time to set off was determined which might be as early as 9 a.m. ahead of an all-day walk, sometimes requiring a packed lunch and returning home as it was getting dark. Perhaps because we are older, lazier or just simply enjoying a relaxing holiday together two and a half years after having booked it, we tended to get out at around 10.30 a.m. and the walks relied quite heavily on a lunch stop at a pub. 

Disappointingly, on nearly every day where a pub was involved, there was a problem - food was being served only to those who had booked ahead, there was no food at all, the pub was closed. Outside the tourist season it seems that one has to be more organised if one wants to eat, and organisation was not something that bothered us much that week. The weather was also rather warm and quite wet, and therefore extremely muddy until the final day. Views were hindered by mist, and we were definitely not as fit as we used to be. But walking with friends is something that warms my heart, so I enjoyed it all.

Cooking has also changed slightly over the years. We still divide up the evening meals so everyone is responsible for one day, but in the past each team has focussed solely on their day's cooking, and mountains of leftovers accumulate throughout the week. This led to me taking on the task on the last evening to combine everything remaining into a mammoth soup alongside leftovers that couldn't be included (e.g. cheese and biscuits). This time each successive cooking team not only took account of what remained in the fridge, but also made much more appropriate quantities, so I nearly had to buy more provisions to make sure we had enough for soup at the end.

Photo credit: Mr M

Highlights: spending quality time with my lovely friends, the Bucket Game we played after dinner on New Year's Eve which successfully kept us all awake until midnight, and the Key Lime Pie made by Bee Lady 2 (yes, Mr MXF and BL2 were among the company). BL2 estimated the quantity required based on four times the amount she would make for her family of four. Fifteen of us managed to eat just half the amount she had made. I was very impressed to see family JJL&J's daughter (L) eating some of it for breakfast. I thought that was something that only a Lola would do.

Lola II and Mr M very much enjoyed the entertainment provided by more talented company playing their favourite tunes on the piano. I participated in the joint jigsaw puzzles, the first being relatively straightforward and the second being the most fiendishly difficult puzzle I have ever encountered - Starry Night by Van Gogh with every one of the thousand pieces a different and non-traditional shape. I was presented with it to take home, but most of the completed sections disintegrated on the journey and it's taken me over a week just to get back to where we were, about two thirds complete.

I've done a lot of catching up since coming home and nothing of significance except supporting mum to help dad through a nasty bout of illness (not Covid). There's been quite a lot of Buddhist stuff, badminton, walking, jigsaw puzzling and generally enjoying the life of leisure. Next week I'll definitely get back in the saddle with Mr MXF, especially as working at the computer is so much more comfortable now.

Lyme Regis (Photo credit Mr M)

What I've been reading

The Convenient Marriage
by Georgette Heyer

narrated by Avita Jay

"Horry Winwood doesn't play by the rules. So when her family are near ruin and her sister is about to enter a loveless marriage to a wealthy man to settle the family debts, young and headstrong Horry proposes to marry him in her sister's place."

Classic Georgette Heyer, I just love her books. Having them read out to me lures me into spending much more time than I should just sitting listening, enjoying the wiles of the baddies and the twinkle in the eye of the hero and the warmth of the heroine, and all the other separate characters are drawn so clearly and sympathetically. And they always, always have a happy ending. Read Georgette Heyer if you'd like to feel good about the world.

Becoming
by Michelle Obama

narrated by the Author

"In her memoir, Michelle Obama invites readers into her world, chronicling the experiences that have shaped her — from her childhood on the South Side of Chicago, to her years as an executive balancing the demands of motherhood and work, to her time spent at the world’s most famous address."

I have to admit that while reading about Michelle Obama I discovered quite a bit about myself alongside what I learned about her. I had made quite major assumptions about who she was, her background and upbringing as well as paying very little attention to what she was doing while her husband was President. Both he and she were remarkable people, especially when viewed in the light of what came next, but not so much of a surprise given what had gone before. One of the most astonishing things was that she allowed her children to spend eight formative years in the White House along with their parents, but perhaps the Clintons had reassured her on that score. I've got Barack's latest memoir lined up and I'm looking forward to listening to that soon, but I'm not in the least interested in the biographies of the leaders of the UK. I think it's easier to be objective when not actually under the jurisdiction of the person in question.

The Red and the Green

by Iris Murdoch

"The scene is Dublin in 1916. As rebellion looms, tension mounts in the sombre, rain-soaked Dublin streets. A single Anglo-Irish family provides the diverse characters: Pat Dumay, a Catholic and an Irish patriot; his pious mother pursuing her private war with his step-father; Pat’s English-Protestant cousin Andrew Chase-White, an officer in King Edward’s Horse and Frances, the girl he loves."

For about three quarters of this book I didn't much like it, especially as I had to  read the first chapter three times and draw a family tree to make sure I understood who was who - not a good start to a novel. But the final quarter was pretty good, even if she had to write an epilogue to describe what happened to everyone after the main action was over. I still can't see the appeal of Iris Murdoch though.

Boosting and excitement

Riverhill Himalayan Gardens, June 2021

Happy Christmas! I'm off enjoying myself with friends, but here's a scheduled post for you to enjoy.

My last vaccination shift was more interesting than the previous ones. Not because we were busy - oh no, in a 12-hour shift from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. there were a total of 83 customers. Someone offered a different theory this time: being aware that the Covid vaccine can make you feel a bit rough for a day or two, perhaps people are too busy in the run up to Christmas to risk any self-inflicted illness? But I think it's more likely lack of advertising of the availability of walk-in as well as booked appointments, and the terrible historical situation of parking at the hospital, even though there is designated and available free parking for the vaccination clinic. And it's partly because that day we were offering the Moderna booster, and quite a few people wanted Pfizer so went away without getting their vaccine.

Anyway, I had been ignoring the fact that a couple of my mandatory training modules were overdue. I had done all the online modules, but hadn't bothered with the in-person sessions because prior to all the vaccine booster action I had thought I might not get any more shifts. But eventually I had to confess, and was allowed time off from the vaccination shift for my resuscitation and manual handling training, because with on average only one person coming in every eight minutes I could be spared for an hour or two. 

Both modules are required annually so I've done them many times before, but this year the Covid precautions have been incorporated into the resuscitation training. In reality (not the training) everyone would have to dress up in PPE with special masks for a cardiac arrest because cardiac compressions are potentially aerosol-generating procedures. The poor unconscious patient's face even has to be covered until everyone is protected and before the oxygen mask is applied. Other than that it's all pretty much the same as in previous years, with the fancy shmancy defibrillator telling you whether your compressions are the right speed and the right depth and when to stand clear while it analyses the heart rhythm and tells you whether to apply a shock or not.

So that all went well, and I came back to the vaccine clinic and the next person I vaccinated was so incredibly wound up for their first dose that we arranged to vaccinate them on the couch rather than sitting up on a chair, where they promptly fainted. The trainer who half an hour before had been assessing my abilities to carry out chest compressions and use the defibrillator gave me a wave of recognition as she turned up in response to the medical emergency call. The patient woke up before too long and was eventually transferred to the main hospital observation ward. They didn't look too bad as they left our clinic, all things considered. At least I'd managed to give them one dose of the vaccine.

There was no such excitement after my manual handling training, which contained the usual 'pick up this empty box from this trolley and put it on the floor, then pick it up again and put it back on the trolley'. The trainer was a most amusing man who tried to give the dry material a little bit of interest by incorporating a quiz, which I won (simply by participating while almost everyone else sat mute and embarrassed). The prize appeared to be an ex-library book about mental health in primary care, and despite the protests of the trainer I didn't take it away with me. He also peppered his talk with anecdotes including the one about the hoist that fell on the patient when the brakes were wrongly applied, and the one about the person who tried to remove his contact lens with tweezers.

One of the other members of the vaccination team sought me out in the afternoon specifically to ask me if I was all right after the fainting episode. This team are really nice to work with. I've booked another shift in January after all my holidays are over.

Boosting and boredom

Witley Court, June 2021

Not much of note going on here at Lola Towers as the winter sets in, and we are approaching a time when we ought to stop socialising due to the ongoing pandemic, but instead we are about to embark on the annual round of super-socialising. Our leaders have nobody's interests in mind but their own and those of their rich friends, and consider the rules designed to keep us safe and the NHS tottering on applicable to anyone but themselves. It is contemptible.

With that off my chest, I can report that the vaccine booster programme seemed likely to need all the people it could muster, so thinking I would be needed I logged on to see what vaccination shifts might be available, and signed up to a few. On the first of these, quite a few people joined me who had not been vaccinating regularly for a few months, and there weren't many of us, so I was ready to be rushed off my feet. During the whole 8-hour shift only 150 people turned up to be vaccinated (at our busiest we can manage between 500 and 600) and I nearly died of boredom. 

The next shift was similarly well-staffed, and even fewer people came. I volunteered to go home early - in the remaining 6 hours there were only 24 people booked in. We think that the main problem is lack of advertising the availability of vaccination boosters, combined with the hospital's notorious parking problems. But we may be wrong. Other parts of the country are reporting 4-hour waiting times. In our little Portakabin nobody waited more than 30 seconds.

Back home Ilf had finished the majority of the decorating except for a couple of bits where the damp was evident, and Glf the builder came to have a look. He will come back in the spring for the pointing, and recommended a roofer who has not yet turned up. The LTRP really is a gift that keeps on giving. I was also quite uncertain about the colour I had chosen for the hall, which ought to be apricot but looks suspiciously pink in certain lighting conditions. I am getting used to it.

There has been a badminton match, which we won, and a trip to see mum and dad in which I battled with the phone and broadband company, and I think we won that bout as well. I dithered about whether it would be responsible to attend various social events, and decided to cancel the Buddhist film night but attend the Mr MXF company Christmas dinner, which was lovely. I even visited Lola II and Mr M on the way, and it's been a long time since I was there.

Christmas cards are written and sent and the few presents I require are wrapped and waiting downstairs. All that's needed now is for the Government to institute further measures to try and prevent the NHS from being overwhelmed. I wonder if they will?

Just one book this time

Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
by Robert M. Pirsig

"Here is an unforgettable narration of a summer motorcycle trip across America's Northwest, undertaken by a father and his young son. A story of love and fear, of growth, discovery and acceptance, that becomes a profound personal and philosophical odyssey into life's fundamental questions."

I first read this book either in my late teens or early twenties, which was in the mid-1980's. It made such a huge impression on me that it became my favourite book, always number 1 whenever I was asked. And yet I'm not sure that I have ever read it again. Why is that, when it is my 'favourite book'?

I think it might be about denial and delayed gratification and my upbringing and 'conditions', as the Buddhists would say.

Once, I was given a present of a painting kit. It was a brilliant present, I was delighted and excited and looked forward to opening the box and getting it out and painting the picture. But I never did. I never even opened the box, and the only reason I can put forward, with hindsight half a century later, is that once it was painted I wouldn't be able to look forward to it any more. Somehow, looking forward to it was better and more pleasurable than actually painting it.

It's possible that's why I never re-read my favourite book. Imagining reading it was giving me such pleasure that actually reading it might be a disappointment.

Well, no longer. I have been trying for quite a while to simplify my life and dispose of possessions, and one of the ways to do that has been to whittle down my collection of books, which means re-reading some of the old ones. And going away for a week's retreat would provide lots of reading time. (It didn't, but that's another story). I picked this book out, my favourite book, to re-read at long last.

If I'm honest, I was pretty nervous. If I didn't like it, what would that mean? But I was also fascinated to find out, and see if the past became present and maybe I'd gain more insight into myself 40 years ago.

Reading the book was fine. It was illuminating. It was thought provoking. I realised that at the same time as I was reading and taking in the story I was also evaluating the experience and bringing to mind my earlier self - what did she see in it? how come it made that number 1 spot in the favourite book charts? would I still put it there? I was reading it as me now and marvelling at that young woman.

It is a complicated book weaving together two completely different stories - one about a man on a motorcycle road trip with his son, and the other about an earlier time in his life before he became insane. I have been surprised to detect in it many of the seeds of my current situation, some Buddhist philosophy, and I wonder if I had followed up and paid more attention to the content I may have made better choices and approached equanimity sooner. But I think that the words and sentences and paragraphs of strange philosophical description spoke to that young woman because it described something she recognised about the way her mind worked that seemed to be different from how everyone else's minds seemed to work, on the scanty evidence she could glean from what they said and did.

[Writing this, here, in this moment, I have been struck like a thunderbolt by the fact that the author refers to his former self in the third person, as if he were a separate being, and I have unintentionally done exactly the same thing.]

On the retreat and in general within the Buddhist context, much time is spent talking about the mind, how it works, how to access its tendencies, how to influence and change it. As someone who has little access to the workings of her own mind and no particular affinity for psychology, this is always a struggle. Occasionally I get a little glimpse of some truth before it scurries away and hides behind some neurones and synapses. 

Year 2 of my study class is more challenging too, and we are encouraged to present a 'project' after each module, to expand on something that we have found interesting. I had a mini crisis at the end of the latest module, and after a kind and supportive conversation with our teacher I was given a dispensation - I wouldn't have to present a project if I didn't want to. Almost immediately I discovered that I did want to, following a chance comment by one of the group alongside an experience I had on my previous retreat.

That other retreat was at the headquarters of the Buddhist movement I've joined, where the founder lived at the end of his life and where he is buried. He was a voracious reader as well as an inspirational teacher (I'm told), and created a whole movement from nothing at all but his passion for the Buddha's teaching. Anyway, one of the buildings in that centre is the Library, so I thought I'd have a look at that, and was puzzled to see no more than a couple of bookcases. Another small room seemed to have some more books, but there was someone there working at a table in the middle.

"Are you the librarian?" I asked.

"Not exactly," she said.

"Can I come in and have a look?"

"Of course."

So there were about ten more bookcases, and not all that interesting - they contained translations of other books into various languages as well as some texts from different Buddhist traditions (e.g. Zen, Tibetan and others). But I had a good look just in case there were any more interesting titles, and after I got to the end, the Non-Librarian said: "Would you like to see the other books?"

It turned out there were two more whole rooms crammed with books of all sorts, the 'real' collection. Actually, not all sorts. There was every philosophy book and author, plenty on religion and faith, nature, arts and humanities, poetry, and probably more that I can't remember. But nothing about science beyond James Lovelock and Bill Bryson. It is clear that the founder of the movement was hugely charismatic, well read, and inspirational, but he was not a scientist.

Until I met Buddhism my faith was science - perhaps I should call it Scientism. Now I am a Scientist Buddhist, or a Buddhist Scientist - the two faiths coexist very nicely with barely any contradiction. And this is what I'm going to talk about for my project, specifically about the preciousness of life, the certainty of death, along with the usual 'Actions Have Consequences' and the existence of suffering. But that's not what this blog post is about.

I finished my 'favourite' book at home after my retreat had ended, and pondered what might have resonated so strongly with my earlier self. It must have been a challenging read, and I doubt that I understood half of it. It's probably the only book on philosophy that I would have read until recently. Maybe I thought it would reflect well on me to have this favourite book? Anyway, I have concluded that I can't say why it became a favourite, and while I found it satisfying to read again I think I will have to demote it from the top spot, which means that 'Catch 22' is promoted to number 1. Now that's a book that I have re-read several times, and it still delivers.

A cold welcome home

Taraloka Retreat Centre, November 2021

It seems like a long time ago that I went off on retreat for a week into the wilds of the Shropshire-Powys border land. It was a peaceful, contemplative interlude, allowing all the responsibilities of ordinary life to be shelved for a while, where all I needed to do was keep an eye on my watch and turn up for things. And if I hadn't turned up and had missed a few things, that would have been fine too. It was wonderful.

Anyway, coming back to the real world I made a mental note to turn the heating down next time rather than turning it off altogether for a week. I spent all of Sunday out of the cold house, however, doing a busy vaccination shift during which it snowed quite heavily. It took about three days for the temperature in the house to rise to a comfortable level, but it did give me an excuse for lighting a real fire, the first this winter.

Ilf was booked in to start the next phase of LTRP decoration this week, in the porch and hall downstairs. He had somehow forgotten that there is always more complexity when it comes to my jobs and had only allowed three days, within which he managed only a little actual decorating. This is partly because I rely on him for other jobs around the house (he put up some shelves for me and cleaned some high windows this time) and also because of the damp I mentioned before, which delayed some of the painting. Dlf the Damp Man came round on Wednesday, but Ilf and I had already come to the conclusion that it's probably cracks in the mortar letting water penetrate, and I need pointing. Glf is coming round next week to have a look.

While he was here, Ilf mentioned one of his other customers who is having difficulty booking and attending a vaccination session because of being new to the area and not having a car. So I offered to help out, which is one of the delightful aspects of being able to organise my working life at my own convenience.

What else? I have been to an Orthodontist to explore the option of improving the state of my teeth using an alignment device - the invisible braces that have replaced the metal 'birdcage' that I wore in my teens. This only raised further questions, so it's back to the dentist to talk about what's next. My work for Mr MXF reached an impasse in trying to create an online shop using one approach, so I now have a different approach to explore, this time using strange creatures like Gitlab, Github, Gitpod and Cuttlebelle to learn how to build a website. And there has been badminton again - my back has recovered enough to play (and win) a match.

The canal at Taraloka

What I've been reading

Mind In Harmony
by Subhuti

"The author describes the mind from the Buddhist point of view, and shows how such knowledge can help us live a more satisfactory life."

This is a set text for a retreat I'm attending, otherwise I don't think I would have gone near it. I am thoroughly baffled by psychology, don't have much insight into my own mind, and find the incessant listing of types of this and that quite irritating. So the idea of 51 mental events consisting of constants, intensifiers, positives, afflictions, secondary afflictions and variables is not my cup of tea. But I've done my reading so let's hope the retreat helps me understand the subject better.

A Fine Balance
by Rohinton Mistry

narrated by Vikas Adam

"The time is 1975. The government has just declared a State of Emergency, and four strangers - a spirited widow, a young student, and two tailors who have fled the caste violence of their native village - are thrust together, forced to share one cramped apartment and an uncertain future."

I came upon books about the Indian subcontinent by accident. I write 'Indian subcontinent' because my grasp of nationality is not accurate there, but there has been Salman Rushdie, Arundhati Roy, R. K. Narayan, V. S. Naipaul, M. M. Kaye and probably more that I don't remember, and I have enjoyed reading all of them. It's not easy reading, and this book has its share of terrible events, but all these authors have managed to evoke something that I can connect with. I have never been to India, and I don't think I particularly want to go there, but I certainly love reading about it. This book is set in the 1970s during the 'Emergency' declared by Indira Gandhi, and life for the poor is mostly uncertain and terrible, and the end is not happy, but it was satisfying to read, and that is what I look for in my books.

The Songlines
by Bruce Chatwin

"The songlines are the invisible pathways that criss-cross Australia, ancient tracks connecting communities and following ancient boundaries. Along these lines Aboriginals passed the songs which revealed the creation of the land and the secrets of its past. "

Like Indian stories, I remember reading about Australia in the past, and finding the huge bulk of Robert Hughes' seminal work 'The Fatal Shore' surprisingly readable and enjoyable. This book has been on my shelves among books that are there because I love them, but re-reading has been such a disappointment that I'm not sure why I ever kept it.

Brewster's Millions
by George Barr McCutcheon

narrated by Bronson Pinchot

"With the passing of his beloved grandfather, Monty Brewster inherits a long-anticipated million dollars. But he suddenly discovers that he can inherit seven times as much from his eccentric uncle if he spends every cent of his grandfather's money within a year."

An entertaining book well narrated, and good enough that it's been made into a film more than once. I can't help thinking that if I were in a similar position I'd be very happy with the first million, especially as this was written in 1902 when a million dollars was worth even more than it is today.

It's Not Out There
by Danapriya

"Most of us constantly look outside ourselves for something: happiness, love, contentment. But this something is not out there. It is within us. This book uncovers the fertile ground of your own potential, and enables you to live the life you are here for."

Another Buddhist book, a fairly lightweight one this time. I think I bought it after the author did his book tour via Zoom and seemed a very personable chap. I think it would be a useful introduction to Buddhist principles (if not Buddhism itself) for someone who was dissatisfied with their life and wanted some ideas.

Back pain and damp

Malvern, May 2021

I left you in pain at the end of the last blog post with my hurty knee and hip. By Tuesday this had progressed to dreadful spasms of my lower back muscles. I could be entirely comfortable standing, sitting or lying still, especially with a hot water bottle on my lower back, but most movement caused shooting pains.

Despite this I decided to go to mum's birthday celebration, as both Lola II and Sister D would be coming too. Sitting down to lunch along with dad as well we decided that this was probably the first time the five of us had eaten together at this same table for between 30 and 40 years - either one of us had been elsewhere or there had been husbands, children/grandchildren or other guests present. It was lovely. Mum reflected that if she'd been asked 10 years ago, she wouldn't have believed she'd still be with us. We're hoping to do the same for dad's birthday next year.

In the evening I went over to see a friend I used to go to school with who now lives locally. One of her daughters also went to the same school, which has changed in 45 years from being almost exclusively white (there were two non-white girls in my year) to being nearly completely non-white, and now focussing strongly on 'STEM' subjects: science, technology, engineering and maths. Most pupils go on to study medicine, dentistry and pharmacy. I suppose this must reflect the change in local population too. Apart from the 'old timers' like my parents who have been there more than 50 years, the newer residents tend to be from Asian backgrounds.

I drove on from there to see a friend in Dartford, then drove home. The state of my back wasn't great, but sitting and driving weren't too bad so I didn't cancel my vaccination shift on Friday. I really should have. It lasted 11 hours, and by the time I got home I managed a cup of tea and slice of toast then lay on my huge comfortable soft sofa with a hot water bottle as the pain gently melted away. It was a struggle to get up to bed, but I was nearly pain-free next morning. Unfortunately, getting up and moving around still generated the muscle spasms so the pain returned during the day, but at least I had no more work or travel to do and could spend more time immobile.

Since then I've been mostly resting, interspersed with watching television, communicating online and trying not to drop things that need picking up. Thankfully I haven't had any trouble sleeping. I think it's improving slowly, but it's already been a week and I'm a bit fed up with the pain and lack of mobility.

And then, a huge setback for the LTRP. The auditorium (front room adjacent to the street) has been smelling a bit musty for about a month, and I finally investigated and found damp around all the outside walls rising from the skirting board. Well, with the last rooms about to be decorated, Lola Towers was probably imagining that attention might soon be diverted from serving its needs on a full time basis, and decided to remind me of its importance. I've called the damp men back in to have a look.

Weekend with Caddie

November 2021

My first Guide Dog boarder has been a black Labrador/Retriever cross called Caddie, 18 months old and about six weeks into her Guide Dog training. I was introduced to her at the training centre where she seemed very pleased to meet me, jumping up and generally being far too excited for quite a long time. This was mentioned as something that might be a problem if I were introducing her to visitors, but I reassured the trainer that I wasn't expecting any visitors. 

As a boarding volunteer I was given a collar, leash and harness for the dog, which I keep afterwards for any future dogs. I was also given a bag containing food for the weekend already weighed into bags, some poo bags, a sachet of special treats (disgusting stinky whole dried sprats), some food-based toys and three of Caddie's favourite soft toys - a moose, a duck and a big teddy. I was shown how to put the harness on her (it's a bit complicated) and how to get her in and out of the car. We practised that a few times. There was a lot to remember! Then off we went, and I began to feel the responsibility of what I had taken on.

As I drove the short distance home, I realised that I would need to plan my approach when we got there - how was I going to safely get the car in the garage and the dog out of the car and carry all the bags and shut the garage door and open the front door with only two hands?

After I'd managed all that, I introduced Caddie gradually to the downstairs rooms and the garden. Thankfully she didn't show any interest in going upstairs, at least not to start with. Of course she definitely preferred lying on the carpets and rugs to the tiles, hard wood and laminate flooring. She understood where her bed was, and didn't try to get up on the furniture, and was calm and quiet and didn't get excited at all while she was in the house with me, not even when there were fireworks going off and she was in the garden. I decided to sit down and have a cup of tea and think about what to do next, and she brought her toys and had a lie down next to me. It couldn't have got off to a better start.

The evening continued without incident, and because I'd been told not to leave her overnight in a room with a sofa, her bed had to be in the hall. Either I would have to shut her in there, in which case I wouldn't be able to hear her if there was a problem, or I could make up a bed for myself on the living room sofa. It's a very large and comfortable sofa so it wasn't a problem for me to sleep there on Friday and on Saturday, and everything was fine, and Caddie kindly brought me a toy when she could hear that I'd woken up. On Sunday night I shut her in and slept upstairs, and that was fine too even though I didn't get a toy brought to me in the morning.

On Saturday I'd arranged to go for a walk with friends who have been boarding Guide Dogs for a little while - they now have their third dog, who happens to be Caddie's brother from the same litter. They were very excited to meet each other, but calmed down a bit while they walked. Caddie wasn't walking with a loose leash like I'd been shown at the centre, but I put it down to the excitement of being with her brother. It was a long walk, and I was pulled along the whole time, but I thought I'd address it the following day when we'd go for a quieter walk on our own.

Well, the pulling continued on Sunday. I tried all the techniques I'd been shown - standing still, doing a complicated figure of eight move, using the relevant command ('Steady') but nothing worked. Worse still, whenever a dog appeared (and there are A LOT of dogs in Leamington on a Sunday) Caddie pulled as hard as she could to get up close and play and wouldn't pay any attention to anything else while the dog was there. I'd planned to do a longish circuit of the common but cut the whole thing short and brought her back after about 20 minutes. The worst thing is that all the pulling has brought back the right hip and left knee pain that was previously caused by running and which I spent so long sorting out with rest and physiotherapy.

Monday morning came and I was more confident of reversing the whole process of opening front door, opening garage, bag and dog into car. Except that Caddie had other ideas, and really didn't fancy jumping into the car. I had the opportunity to chat with a couple of my lovely neighbours who happened to be passing while this situation developed, but when they'd gone I got out one of the horrible stinky dried fish treats (which I had to touch with my actual hand) and in she went like a dream.

I've given a bit of feedback to the trainer, and asked her to call me if she wants the full story. Then I'll be waiting to hear from the volunteer coordinator about what happens next.

Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth

Email, a dog and a demo

June 2021

Despite not having a full time permanent job, I feel that I have been stretching myself too thinly by agreeing to anything that I'm offered to do. It's been a long time since the last blog post and much has been going on. I have been on a demo (more on this later), had an interesting discussion with the dentist, played badminton, attended a lovely day with my Buddhist group, started running again with the help of new shoes (no knee problems so far), did an 11 hour vaccinating shift, and entertained another guest at the weekend who came to a gig with me. 

I also achieved a significant step forward with the website work for Mr MXF, and simultaneously deactivated my family email. I have been working out how to move a number of domains that Mr MXF hosts for friends and family from a flaky unreliable server to a lovely new home. We were getting very close, the new server was all set up and all the test domains were working, so it was time to do it for real. What I hadn't understood, and maybe you won't either, was the the old host included a mail server and the new one didn't. Which is why the email broke when we moved.

I had to spend quite a lot of time moving that one domain back to the old server to make the family email work again before considering how to fix the problem. The first attempt to fix it didn't work because the mail client used by mum and dad is very, very old (1997 vintage) and I don't want them to have to learn a new interface. The second attempt was successful, and what's more the new way of working means much less spam reaching the client end. I once heard a transplant surgeon describe how happy he feels to see urine passing out of a new kidney after a transplant, and my delight at seeing emails being sent and received was probably similar.

Before all this happened, I was honoured by a visit from mum, who was conveyed back and forth by Lola II. She reviewed all the changes wrought by the LTRP and pronounced them very fine, we ate, drank and were merry and had brunch in Leamington on Sunday which was very tasty but very badly served. The very next day Sister D came for a visit, and helped me a great deal by listing on Freegle all the superfluous items that I retrieved from storage in the loft. In return I treated her to a much better lunch at a different establishment in Leamington (which had been full when we tried going there with mum). Nearly all the things we listed have now been collected, and I have also collected a second hand dog bed and dog bowls, so I'm ready for my first canine boarder.

Yes, I went to the Guide Dogs centre for a training session - training for me, not the dog, which was five weeks in to its programme and doing pretty well except for not wanting to sit when asked. I learned how to get it in and out of the car and quite a few other commands, as well as how to stop it pulling on the leash. I was very happy with how it went, and so was the trainer, and my first dog will be coming to stay very soon.

The demo was outside the House of Lords to support the second reading of the Assisted Dying Bill, organised by the Dignity in Dying organisation, and there were probably more than 100 people there. We were offered a T-shirt or a hoodie with the Dignity in Dying logo, and a placard, and I chatted with lots of different people who were there for all sorts of reasons. I met someone who also lives in Leamington Spa, and I'm told by other friends that a woman was there who went to the same senior school as me. Many had personal experience of helping a family member to travel to Dignitas in Switzerland, and there were doctors and palliative care workers and a few speakers including Baroness Meacher (who had put forward the Bill). George Carey (former Archbishop of Canterbury) came out towards the end of the debate to say how confident he was that it would pass because the vast majority of those who spoke had been in favour. Getting it through the House of Commons will be a whole lot harder, though.

Now I'm going to have a couple of days off to do all the things that have been waiting for my attention, but I'll do them slowly and have lots of breaks!