In remembrance of times past

Ann and MA when first we met

Yesterday, we had a final vet visit to sign Byron off. He is much improved, and reacted with indignity rather than indifference when she shoved the thermometer up his bum to check his temperature. If it's not the dogs needing attention, it is ourselves, reminders of the passing years. I attended my appointment with the Chiropodist this week, and then Ann had a routine blood test. 

The Chiropodists are a happy family group in Haverhill who kept going through two years of lockdowns. We were chatting about the recession, and how it affected her business. Carol has been forced to raise prices for home care because of the rising fuel costs, but has not increased her charges for those of us still able to walk in, on the Tesco principle of "pile it high and sell it cheap!" She prefers to keep a high footfall at small margins rather than the diminishing returns of increasing her fees, but getting fewer customers. It is a lesson our chancellor should learn in relation to taxing the country. Higher taxes do not equate with greater revenue. Carol went to one lady and said, "that will be thirty pounds." The lady said, is that per foot? Apparently, she had had one home-care chiropodist who charged per foot rather than per visit. If Carol's costs continue to rise with massive inflation, she might be reduced to charging per toe.

How we were - more than 30 years ago

I have been looking at some old photos of myself and Ann from over 30 years ago. How the days have flown - we were so youthful and full of hope. We have done many wonderful things together, including running our poetry magazine, Exile, starting a dating agency, Avalon, getting married and having Edwin, home-schooling him, and moving house a number of times. We have travelled widely and visited many great countries, including our own when we had a caravan. It has been a good life, mostly in harmony and without rancour, and a privilege to have shared it with such a wonderful, imaginative and resourceful person, who could always be relied on to have her "contingencies" whenever things went pear-shaped. Now she is still there, a huge support and strength as my own fades. Our ambitions now are more limited, but not yet completely absent, and we hope to do a little more between us before the day is done.

Byron is ill, and an old friend is remembered

Edwin comes to nurse Byron

Byron has been very ill. We went to Kent for a few days last week after Ann's birthday. Alas, on Friday, the hottest day of the year thus far when temperatures reached 33C, he seemed to collapse, vomiting and weak. By Tuesday, when he showed little sign of improvement, Edwin came over to help take him to the vets. They suggested one or two things and started some treatment but next day, seeing no improvement, we took him again. This time, he spent the whole day there being X-rayed and ultrasound scanned. They didn't find a lot, but said he had a mild temperature and was too fat. They started him on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, and prescribed an expensive low-fat diet.

Today, he does seem much better. Ann had her glaucoma check-up in Bury-St-Edmunds this afternoon, and we returned to his loud bark and greeting, and knew things must be improving. He is eating well again, and even went on a short walk in the cool of the evening. It is incredible how much one misses the presence of a dog when they're not there, or are just lying listless. Encouraged by this, we are cutting out all treats and extras for the dogs and vow not to feed them any titbits from the table. The only sign now of his illness is a completely shorn tummy.

Last month, a good friend and former colleague of mine, Dr John Carter, died. I used to work as a locum in the Clare practice, and we always enjoyed a regular three-hour lunch at the expense of a drug rep, in the days when that was considered normal. They were initially held in the Bell, but this began to decline even twenty-five years ago, so we transferred to The Bull in Cavendish. John had an enormous fund of stories about the dear people of Clare, but also had helped found The Nethergate Brewery, then in Clare. He used to take an annual trip to some small family vineyards in France to buy their year's vintage for the people he supplied. On Saturday we were invited to celebrate his life in the garden of his home. Alas, Ann felt she couldn't leave Byron so didn't go, but it was a big crowd. They had commandeered a farmer's field opposite the house, to take the many cars, and had a large team of caterers to supply a wonderful assortment of nibbles and wines, so John had a good remembrance. 

Some thoughts on suicide

I used to think that suicide was the coward's way of dealing with life. We all face problems through our lives, and must of us have to deal with them, or cope with the consequences of the problems, or of our wrong handling of them. Suicide is the ultimate method of ignoring a problem by walking away from it. Unfortunately, it leaves everyone else to deal with your mess, while adding to their misery by having to come to terms with your own ultimate cowardice. I have been fortunate in life, for I don't get chronically depressed and don't usually have thoughts of my own suicide. Recently though, when my skin is particularly bad and I'm pacing the floor at three in the morning desperately trying not to scratch, yet knowing  the bed is going to have to be changed from pillow to bottom sheet yet again, I do see that with death the terrible itching will ease. At these times, I suddenly realise that, in fact, perhaps to commit suicide is also an act of bravery, daring to take on the power of the life force and confront the reality of eternal silence. Certainly, I have not come near to the brink of actually attempting the act, and I hope my health does not deteriorate to the point where I consider it as an option.

On a lighter note, today we drove into Cambridge, nominally to find a summer top for Ann. But so many shops in the Grafton Centre are now closed, and the few remaining offer such poor choices, it must be back to the drawing board. In an attempt to try an alternative to shoddy shops, we have treated ourselves to a Singer sewing machine. Ann will buy some material and patterns, and I will attempt to assemble them into a passible blouse. At the very least, perhaps it will give me some distraction if I am pacing the floor again in the night. We will keep you posted.

Lunch at the Cambridge Arms

A weekend in pictures

 

Walking with Ben; Sunday lunch with all

We had a wonderful weekend with Ben and Kaz's visit. We talked and laughed late into the night, helped by several brandies. Next day, he and I walked the dogs on the hills behind Clare, before he cut the lawns for us, front back and side! Then in the afternoon Edwin and Andre invited them to see their new house where we enjoyed Edwin's home-made coffee cake on their sunlit patio before we all retired to the Angel Hotel for a fine Sunday lunch. 

Walking with Bronte and Byron

They even brought us gifts of a bottle of Prosecco and fresh scones which we later enjoyed with traditional cream and jam. Thank you both for an enjoyable visit.

Looking forward to afternoon tea

Celebrating a remission

The consultant oncologist phoned this week to check on my progress, and to confirm that my scan showed no new opacities, and the blood tests indicated that the renal failure and anaemia were stable. I am in a period of remission, and must enjoy the health I have. She is increasing the time to the next scan to four months, as a measure of confidence. To celebrate, we went to a restaurant in Long Melford, previously a smart affair with Cordon Bleu service and cuisine. Unfortunately, the chef's reputation led him to move on, and their new chef is Cordon Noir. It was a mediocre menu but with their original pricing, so I ended up with expensive fish-and-chips, and Ann had one of their limited vegetarian dishes that was too spicy for her to finish. We will stick to take-away Indian next time.

Yesterday, we continued the great clothes hunt for some summer tops for Ann by visiting Freeport Outlet Centre. The place has many big-name brands such as Ralph Lauren, Adidas, Armani etc. Ann managed to find some long-sleeved T-shirts for me so I can keep my spotty arms covered without having to wear heavy jerseys, but nothing for herself. Being outlet shops, she thought they must just be selling off their winter things, while keeping summer wear in their main shops. So it's back to Amazon shopping. 

On a personal note, Ben and Kaz are coming to stay over tomorrow, and Lucy was due to visit next month. Unfortunately, she ran into a deer and badly damaged her car (not to mention the deer), so now her visit is uncertain. We have not been up to the journey north since before my operation in October last year, but I think we may have to make the effort to see everyone there before much longer.

Black headed gull at Maldon

Russia's malevolance reaches Hundon

The Ukranian conflict has come to Hundon. I had a routine blood test this morning, but was delayed by a message from my bank querying one of our recent transactions. I thought it might be a scam, but they listed four items I recognised alongside the rogue one, so I phoned their security line. It seems an amount for £19.99 had been blocked by the bank. It was with a digital games company based in Russia, so they are also blocking my compromised card and sending a new one. 

I have finally emerged from two years of indolence, induced partly by Covid lockdowns and partly by increasing laziness, and I have tackled some redecoration. Not much, admittedly, but yes - I have painted the banister rail. Not the whole banister, for I don't want to set too high a precedence - but the top rail. I used a high quality paint I bought many years ago, Dulux One-coat Magicoat. It certainly has given a beautiful, smooth, brilliant white gloss, but quick drying it is not. Even three days later, it remains slightly tacky to touch. But it does look good, and gives me boasting rights.

Having enjoyed the Eurovision song contest, we yesterday visited Essex in the footsteps of Sam Ryder, who came from Maldon and ran a small vegan cafe in Coggeshall. Coggeshall is an attractive town with many old houses. It warents a large entry in Wikipedia, in contrast to Hundon which scores three dull lines. We then drove on to Tollesbury, an amazing complex of inlets and waterways coming off the Blackwater estuary. I had heard of it from our sailing days, but had never been there until inspired by a new Apple TV film series, The Essex Serpent, which is set and filmed there. The dogs enjoyed some great walks along a very short section of the Saltmarsh Coastal Path.

Maldon is the home of the Thames barge. We used to see them regularly, sailing the Orwell and Stour, when we had our boat. Now, we are tempted to go on one of the Thames barge cruises, so perhaps we will return here later in the year.

The Bell Hotel, once a smart coaching inn, has now become a refuge for rogues. It was there that one man with a grievance came with an axe to attack someone else. He is now under arrest for attempted murder, and the victim remains critically ill. They have a number of pictures up as part of the decor, but they have been vandalised with rude messages. In contrast, in the Swan, we met up with our friends Rae, Malcolm, Yvonne and Robin for a peaceful meal.  Yvonne saw the portrait I had painted of Nick, the landlord, and Nick told her everyone had to salute when they passed it! Let us hope no one feels so aggrieved with the service that they post bad reviews over my picture.

The annoyance of other people

A younger Jane

This has been a week of annoyances at the hands of other people. On Ann's hairdressing day, we have a routine whereby I walk the dogs then meet up complement her in the Swan for lunch. Last week, the hair appointment was late so we ate first. It was a cool day, 11 degrees C, and overcast, but when I went back to the car to walk the animals, some interfering slob from Clare had scrawled a note on an old paper bag saying, "Hot cars kill dogs. Don't do it". Then yesterday, driving to the vets to get the guinea pig's nails cut, I passed a driver on a tight backroad. I was on the edge of the ditch, but he was too cautious to move closer to the ditch on his side and our wing mirrors brushed. No harm done, but the idiot turned round and followed me, flashing his lights, then got out and accused me of not pulling over far enough! As if life isn't vexatious enough without total self-indulgent fools adding to the annoyances of the world.

Edwin and Andre are off today for a weekend of fun in Amsterdam. They invited us round for a wonderful buffet supper this week to chat before they left. They have a fine walled patio at the rear of the house, completely secluded and peaceful with swallows flying low above us, where we had drinks and biscuits before going in. They are always so full of fun and life, and it is good to remember there is more in the world than the discomforts of the Damoclean sword of terminal cancer.

Seeing the finished picture of her late niece, Michelle, Ann suggested that I do a portrait of her sister, Jane. I selected an old photo, remembering Jane as I first met her, and this is now finished. I continue to work on the portrait of Jane's other daughter, Kate.