In case any Bertie fans are worried, well worry some more. He's convinced his leg is broken. He walked home ok from the marina and was fine during the post-walk cleanup and ear-bandaging. But after he'd had a lie-down it suddenly became really, really sore. Ooowwwww! He only managed to get downstairs when I got out the treat biscuits.
I took him out for a toilet walk regardless, to show him it would feel much better once he got moving. In fact it didn't. It was still so sore he could hardly walk (nothing to do with the fact that it was raining heavily, of course). Mysteriously, when I gave him his Jumbone he managed somehow to sprint upstairs. Miracle? Hmmm. I've caved in and made a vet's appointment for tomorrow, however. He does like those painkillers.
When I phoned the vet, the receptionist asked my name, then said, "Oh, what's wrong with Bertie today?" The joys of owning a greyhound.
28 November 2003
:: the cat won
One of Bertie's dreams came true today -- he got to play with a cat. Unfortunately it was the hard-as-nails feral cat at the marina, and it won. At one point in the encounter, the cat was clinging to his head, kicking, biting and scratching. As far as I could see, it didn't suffer any injuries itself -- apart from perhaps being a bit out of breath.
Bertie, however, limped home covered in wounds: a torn ear, scratches all over his face (including one right next to his eye) and neck, and cuts and scrapes on his ankles from racing over the slippery seawall rocks. The ear is bleeding like mad, and there are bloodstains all over the house. I put a bandage on it -- ha ha ha! Like he's going to keep a bandage on his ear. Sigh. Now the excitement has worn off, he's feeling very, very sorry for himself.
Apart from that, nothing much to report. I had a lovely birthday (it was one of my days off) and got lots of wonderful presents and cards. Work has been very busy and full-on, but I've mostly been enjoying it. There's a horrible flu bug going around so a lot of people are sick, and some are so sick they're off work. So far I've not caught it, touch wood.
Bertie, however, limped home covered in wounds: a torn ear, scratches all over his face (including one right next to his eye) and neck, and cuts and scrapes on his ankles from racing over the slippery seawall rocks. The ear is bleeding like mad, and there are bloodstains all over the house. I put a bandage on it -- ha ha ha! Like he's going to keep a bandage on his ear. Sigh. Now the excitement has worn off, he's feeling very, very sorry for himself.
Apart from that, nothing much to report. I had a lovely birthday (it was one of my days off) and got lots of wonderful presents and cards. Work has been very busy and full-on, but I've mostly been enjoying it. There's a horrible flu bug going around so a lot of people are sick, and some are so sick they're off work. So far I've not caught it, touch wood.
23 November 2003
:: my new hobby
Sleeping. Sleeping in my new bed, which is a marvel of comfort. Ah, bliss, heaven, etc. Still unsure of what to do with the old one: crap, broken bedframe and worn-out mattress, anyone?
I tormented my dog by taking him to Ingliston market today. He hates it there: it's a bewildering maze of stalls -- there are exquisite fried-food smells at every turn, but the hundreds of sugared-up little children desperate the pat the big doggie really kill his appetite. Not to mention there's usually a couple of rotweilers with huge studded collars wanting to rip his guts out. "Aww, he's really cold!" everyone says. But no, he's shaking himself to pieces from fear. Bouncy castle! Gigantic pink gorilla! Screaming weans! The lady at the petfood stall tried to give him a chunk of Puffed Jerky, one of his favourite treats, but he was too far gone for that.
It's part of his thurupy, however. If I expose him to stressful situations on a regular basis, eventually he will get over himself. That's the theory anyway. Ingliston is the most stressful situation he's been in. Next year I'm planning on taking him to the Royal Highland Show. That should be interesting... Ingliston will seem a doddle after the Grand Parade and the pipe band march-past.
I tormented my dog by taking him to Ingliston market today. He hates it there: it's a bewildering maze of stalls -- there are exquisite fried-food smells at every turn, but the hundreds of sugared-up little children desperate the pat the big doggie really kill his appetite. Not to mention there's usually a couple of rotweilers with huge studded collars wanting to rip his guts out. "Aww, he's really cold!" everyone says. But no, he's shaking himself to pieces from fear. Bouncy castle! Gigantic pink gorilla! Screaming weans! The lady at the petfood stall tried to give him a chunk of Puffed Jerky, one of his favourite treats, but he was too far gone for that.
It's part of his thurupy, however. If I expose him to stressful situations on a regular basis, eventually he will get over himself. That's the theory anyway. Ingliston is the most stressful situation he's been in. Next year I'm planning on taking him to the Royal Highland Show. That should be interesting... Ingliston will seem a doddle after the Grand Parade and the pipe band march-past.
19 November 2003
:: bug's life
OLD COCKROACHES SEIZE UP JUST LIKE HUMANS
By John von Radowitz, Science Correspondent, PA News
Cockroaches get doddery in their old age, just like humans, scientists revealed today.
In the first detailed study of insect ageing, researchers found that the bugs’ joints seize up and they have trouble walking up hills.
American scientists noticed that cockroaches that survive into old age reduce the time they spend moving around by about 40%.
When the team put the insects on a mini treadmill, adults that had reached the ripe old age of 60 weeks took half as many steps per second as one-week old individuals.
Many of the old timers developed a stumbling gait as their front foot caught on their second leg.
Angela Ridgel, who led the study at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio, told New Scientist magazine: “It happens every couple of steps. It does slow them down.”
The constant tripping happened because the insects’ joints had stiffened up. By 65 weeks old, more than 80% of the cockroaches were tripping over themselves.
Old cockroaches also did badly at climbing a 45 degree slope. While all the younger insects managed the task, 58% of the older ones failed.
There was one rather drastic way to speed up an old cockroach, the researchers discovered.
Ridgel tested the ability of one cockroach species to run off when nudged. She found that elderly individuals were more likely to escape after being decapitated.
"Escape"? In what sense is running away after someone's cut your head off escaping?
However, interesting to find I have so much in common with cockroaches. Apart from the decapitation thing, obviously.
18 November 2003
:: feet first
Went to the podiatrist today, and she says she thinks the problem with my knees is mainly down to misalignment and can be fixed. Hurrah! My left leg has shrunk by half an inch and my left foot needs more stabilising. She's taken away my orthotics to tinker with them -- leaving me pronating wildly in the meantime -- and if that doesn't work, she's going to try me with a hard plastic set.
"We've had you pain-free before, no reason why you can't be again." Which makes a change from the doctor's "take some painkillers, there's nothing else can be done". Three cheers for biomechanics!
So then I took Bertie for a walk on Blackford Hill, hobbling round like an old lady while he went zooming off into the distance. It will be great once my knees are fixed -- it feels absolutely dreadful to be so insecure on my feet. Walking downhill in particular is difficult. Bertie absolutely loves Blackford Hill. He gets to meet new and interesting dogs and people, plus there's the stream to drink out of and lots of interesting smells.
"We've had you pain-free before, no reason why you can't be again." Which makes a change from the doctor's "take some painkillers, there's nothing else can be done". Three cheers for biomechanics!
So then I took Bertie for a walk on Blackford Hill, hobbling round like an old lady while he went zooming off into the distance. It will be great once my knees are fixed -- it feels absolutely dreadful to be so insecure on my feet. Walking downhill in particular is difficult. Bertie absolutely loves Blackford Hill. He gets to meet new and interesting dogs and people, plus there's the stream to drink out of and lots of interesting smells.
16 November 2003
:: dog's life
When I first got Bertie we were walking through the marina when we met a family that also had a greyhound, a black female. The family has a boat moored there, and the dog goes sailing with them. Bertie was scared to death of the children & deeply suspicious of the rest of them, including the dog.
Then last year, we met them again. I'd forgotten about them in the meantime, but they remembered us. Bertie was a bit calmer by now, but still nervous about the children.
For some reason, on Friday as I walked Bertie through the marina, I thought of that family for the first time since last year.
Guess who we saw yesterday?
This time it was just the mother, who rushed up with a huge smile. "It's Bertie, isn't it?" He greeted her just as enthusiastically -- he's become ultra-friendly lately -- and she raved about how he's improved over the years. She pointed out her family heading along the pontoon to the boat, with the dog in its red jacket.
Does everyone have such a good memory? I couldn't remember her dog's name if you put a gun to my head.
It was good, though, to get confirmation that Bertie has improved since I've had him. I tend to think he's the same scatterbrained nincompoop he was back then, which he is of course. But he's also a lot more confident and more obedient too (when he feels like it). I took him to Holyrood Park yesterday, and he had a whale of a time and didn't get into trouble once. We met a group of people with a bunch of dogs, including two puppies, and he behaved himself perfectly.
Yeah, I think I'll keep him.
Then last year, we met them again. I'd forgotten about them in the meantime, but they remembered us. Bertie was a bit calmer by now, but still nervous about the children.
For some reason, on Friday as I walked Bertie through the marina, I thought of that family for the first time since last year.
Guess who we saw yesterday?
This time it was just the mother, who rushed up with a huge smile. "It's Bertie, isn't it?" He greeted her just as enthusiastically -- he's become ultra-friendly lately -- and she raved about how he's improved over the years. She pointed out her family heading along the pontoon to the boat, with the dog in its red jacket.
Does everyone have such a good memory? I couldn't remember her dog's name if you put a gun to my head.
It was good, though, to get confirmation that Bertie has improved since I've had him. I tend to think he's the same scatterbrained nincompoop he was back then, which he is of course. But he's also a lot more confident and more obedient too (when he feels like it). I took him to Holyrood Park yesterday, and he had a whale of a time and didn't get into trouble once. We met a group of people with a bunch of dogs, including two puppies, and he behaved himself perfectly.
Yeah, I think I'll keep him.
:: searching questions
You won't have noticed, but I've put the tracking thingie back on the page -- it's a little coloured box down the side somewhere. It spies on you and reports back to me, so I can keep track of who's looking and how often.
One thing I can see is when someone has stumbled on the page through a search. It truly is bizarre, the things people search for! And even more bizarre that they find my pages. I mean, I don't write about men's willies, big or small, and there certainly aren't any pictures of them.
Then there's this one: "torn and tattered + anthea". What's even odder is the language: "Ekki þarf að nota "AND" því öll leitarorð eru sjálfkrafa tekin með." What's that, Icelandic? Weird.
More: "Spike Milligan Song lyrics One Black on White down to her knees". And this one: "carjack and brick". And "christmas flatpack pictures". On a Google search for "cagoule messy", Hockadilly comes up first, isn't that interesting?
No? Uh, ok I'll stop then.
I bought a new bed yesterday, a "Picasso" at John Lewis. I lay down on a bed costing £3,000 and nearly lost my head, it was so deliciously comfy. But good sense reigned, sigh. The one I have is perfectly comfortable, low enough for me to sit on and not too dear. It's arriving on Friday.
One thing I can see is when someone has stumbled on the page through a search. It truly is bizarre, the things people search for! And even more bizarre that they find my pages. I mean, I don't write about men's willies, big or small, and there certainly aren't any pictures of them.
Then there's this one: "torn and tattered + anthea". What's even odder is the language: "Ekki þarf að nota "AND" því öll leitarorð eru sjálfkrafa tekin með." What's that, Icelandic? Weird.
More: "Spike Milligan Song lyrics One Black on White down to her knees". And this one: "carjack and brick". And "christmas flatpack pictures". On a Google search for "cagoule messy", Hockadilly comes up first, isn't that interesting?
No? Uh, ok I'll stop then.
I bought a new bed yesterday, a "Picasso" at John Lewis. I lay down on a bed costing £3,000 and nearly lost my head, it was so deliciously comfy. But good sense reigned, sigh. The one I have is perfectly comfortable, low enough for me to sit on and not too dear. It's arriving on Friday.
15 November 2003
:: hi cathie!
Wow, someone talked back! Hurrah. Cathie says:
Yes, I do remember it's four years -- and I've got a tentative ETA for my next trip. Margaret and Ben are getting hitched in Jan/Feb 2005, and I've invited myself to the wedding! It'll be in Christchurch, of course, so I'll see you and Bill then, Cathie.
"That Xmas cake sounds far more suffisticaked than my white job made with pineapple and coconut, no booze but yummy Brandy icing, and I will have to make one this year seeing we will be home and not off to the North!! Bill will love it though!!!!! If we win the lottery can we add to your visitor list and have some too? Do you remember its four years since we came to see you. My doesn't time fly when you're having fun!!"
Yes, I do remember it's four years -- and I've got a tentative ETA for my next trip. Margaret and Ben are getting hitched in Jan/Feb 2005, and I've invited myself to the wedding! It'll be in Christchurch, of course, so I'll see you and Bill then, Cathie.
14 November 2003
:: tidying up
I sat down to fix a few broken links on my website today, and found an interesting function on the program I was using: Check broken links/whole site.
Wow, there are a lot of broken links.
From there I went on to Check code/whole site.
Oops, lots of bad code too.
I spent so much time faffing around checking and fixing all the broken stuff I didn't have time to reload the site -- so it's still all broken on the web! I'll do it tomorrow, maybe.
I might be too busy fixing a few things round the house: I still haven't draught-proofed the front door, and I should do that really soon because there's a storm coming. I have to finish the great study reorganisation project as well, and plant some garlic for next year.
Next week I've got an appointment with the podiatrist to see if I need new protheses. Did I mention I've got arthritis in my knees? Well I have. It's been pretty bad since my last holiday, to the extent where I can hardly walk downhill. So anyway the doctor says there's nothing I can do but take ibuprofen regularly. I'm also taking codliver oil and cutting down on coffee. Pinky suggested seeing the podiatrist again, because limping changes your gait and that may be making the protheses not so effective, hence making my knees worse. I really hope she can help, because it's making me crazy not being able to walk freely.
I got a trekking pole for hillwalking -- not a walking stick, oh no, it's a pole. The guy in the shop told me I should have two, but I have to hold Bertie's lead most of the time. Maybe I'll get another one later on. They're great things, they telescope so you can make them exactly the right height.
I haven't actually used it yet, I have to confess. But soon I will.
I've been shopping for a new bed, and I feel like Goldilocks. My bed really needs replacing: the mattress is second-hand -- I bought it off my old flat's previous owner -- and the frame is a cheap-and-nasty pine slatted thing that broke last year (I mended it, more or less). Last weekend I went to a factory outlet recommended by a friend, but the kind of bed I want (pocket springs) was too huge and puffy. I had to actually jump to get up on to it, and couldn't sit on the edge -- the base is sprung too. Shame, because it was a good price. I don't like Ikea mattresses at all, they're either far too soft or too unyeildingly firm. Pocket sprung mattresses are great: they're firm, but mould around your body.
Wow, there are a lot of broken links.
From there I went on to Check code/whole site.
Oops, lots of bad code too.
I spent so much time faffing around checking and fixing all the broken stuff I didn't have time to reload the site -- so it's still all broken on the web! I'll do it tomorrow, maybe.
I might be too busy fixing a few things round the house: I still haven't draught-proofed the front door, and I should do that really soon because there's a storm coming. I have to finish the great study reorganisation project as well, and plant some garlic for next year.
Next week I've got an appointment with the podiatrist to see if I need new protheses. Did I mention I've got arthritis in my knees? Well I have. It's been pretty bad since my last holiday, to the extent where I can hardly walk downhill. So anyway the doctor says there's nothing I can do but take ibuprofen regularly. I'm also taking codliver oil and cutting down on coffee. Pinky suggested seeing the podiatrist again, because limping changes your gait and that may be making the protheses not so effective, hence making my knees worse. I really hope she can help, because it's making me crazy not being able to walk freely.
I got a trekking pole for hillwalking -- not a walking stick, oh no, it's a pole. The guy in the shop told me I should have two, but I have to hold Bertie's lead most of the time. Maybe I'll get another one later on. They're great things, they telescope so you can make them exactly the right height.
I haven't actually used it yet, I have to confess. But soon I will.
I've been shopping for a new bed, and I feel like Goldilocks. My bed really needs replacing: the mattress is second-hand -- I bought it off my old flat's previous owner -- and the frame is a cheap-and-nasty pine slatted thing that broke last year (I mended it, more or less). Last weekend I went to a factory outlet recommended by a friend, but the kind of bed I want (pocket springs) was too huge and puffy. I had to actually jump to get up on to it, and couldn't sit on the edge -- the base is sprung too. Shame, because it was a good price. I don't like Ikea mattresses at all, they're either far too soft or too unyeildingly firm. Pocket sprung mattresses are great: they're firm, but mould around your body.
12 November 2003
:: jolly good
I've just had a very restful and zestful few days off. Actually I was quite busy -- I made a Christmas cake, for starters. It called for things like a kilo and a half of dried fruit, which made shopping for ingredients a pleasure. I love mixed peel and glace cherries and dried apricots, mmm, so there are lots of those in it. And I added cranberries, too, and figs and raisins and sultanas. It was in the oven for over three hours, and now it's sitting bundled up in tinfoil, soaking up a glass of brandy. Next month I'll ice it.
I also got round to renewing the insulation around my hotwater tank, and got some winterising bits and pieces too: a foam wrap for the garden tap and draught-proofing for the front door. And I got materials for a couple of embroidery projects. One went belly-up immediately because I found I'd bought "waste" canvas -- it's very loosely woven, designed to be basted on when you want to do counted-thread work on fine fabric. Once you've finished you pull out the threads of the waste canvas. It's useless for tapestry work itself! Bah. The other project is going belly-up in a slower way, due to me being over-ambitious. Heigh ho.
Time to go home!
I also got round to renewing the insulation around my hotwater tank, and got some winterising bits and pieces too: a foam wrap for the garden tap and draught-proofing for the front door. And I got materials for a couple of embroidery projects. One went belly-up immediately because I found I'd bought "waste" canvas -- it's very loosely woven, designed to be basted on when you want to do counted-thread work on fine fabric. Once you've finished you pull out the threads of the waste canvas. It's useless for tapestry work itself! Bah. The other project is going belly-up in a slower way, due to me being over-ambitious. Heigh ho.
Time to go home!
2 November 2003
:: Faye's here
After a pretty miserable journey up from Reading (heavy traffic, rain), Faye arrived just in time to unload her car and get changed ready for my next-door neighbours' wedding anniversary ceilidh. It was a hoot: live music from a band of old geezers with accordians and a drum-kit, and detailed instructions on the Virginian Reel, the Dashing White Sergeant and Strip the Willow. We were seated with some of Rosemary's relatives and our other neighbours, so it was very congenial. I'm a rubbish dancer, but a gallant gent whispered instructions in my ear for a reel (one, two, three, stamp, back one, two, to me, to you, and turn, turn!).
We had intended to leave early, but they brought out the supper so we stayed on a bit, and then they cut the cake, so we had to stay for that, and for the toasts and speeches. And then there were the farewells -- Rosemary had prepared a little scroll for each guest with a thankyou poem, very sweet touch.
Eventually we wobbled home in our tight, girly shoes. We'd left Bertie with the television on as well as two radios, because the fireworks had been very loud earlier on. Someone was letting them off right behind our houses. When Faye arrived I was just getting out of the shower. Bertie had crushed into the bathroom too and curled up on the mat, he was in such a state. I'm sure if the shower hadn't been going he would have climbed into the tub. When he heard the door I'm sure he thought the explosives experts were coming to get him, he really panicked! Imagine his relief and delight when he found Faye there! Bertie's life is full of surprises.
Tomorrow we're going to North Berwick, meeting Fiona and her mother for lunch. That means a very early start, eek. But it'll be worth it, especially if the weather holds.
We had intended to leave early, but they brought out the supper so we stayed on a bit, and then they cut the cake, so we had to stay for that, and for the toasts and speeches. And then there were the farewells -- Rosemary had prepared a little scroll for each guest with a thankyou poem, very sweet touch.
Eventually we wobbled home in our tight, girly shoes. We'd left Bertie with the television on as well as two radios, because the fireworks had been very loud earlier on. Someone was letting them off right behind our houses. When Faye arrived I was just getting out of the shower. Bertie had crushed into the bathroom too and curled up on the mat, he was in such a state. I'm sure if the shower hadn't been going he would have climbed into the tub. When he heard the door I'm sure he thought the explosives experts were coming to get him, he really panicked! Imagine his relief and delight when he found Faye there! Bertie's life is full of surprises.
Tomorrow we're going to North Berwick, meeting Fiona and her mother for lunch. That means a very early start, eek. But it'll be worth it, especially if the weather holds.
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