A Happy Evening...

... with Dorothy of the South, Jackie and a Thai takeaway. And some cold white wine. I did actually sleep for most of the night afterwards.

An exhausting morning at the hospital. Dorothy and I walked - she walked, I tottered - down miles and miles of corridors, till we finally found the lab - and also found Captain B leaning on the door of the lab looking at his watch - he had parked the car and come the short way round.   Got seen quickly but then had to wait as the injection site poured blood when she had to bandage it.

"Are you on warfarin?!" she asked alarmed.  "Not yet" , I said glumly.  I had to wait a while with my arm in the air till it could be staunched.

Perhaps this is what stress is doing to me.

Dorothy leaves this morning, having given wonderful help, advice and company.

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Operation Dreams

Not only do I wake up in the small hours and lie awake worrying about my operation - and whether it has been postponed or not - but its now getting into my dreams.  

I dreamt last night that I was in my bedroom in Saudi - or at any rate it wasn't my bedroom here. Captain B was there and some friends and our Saudi neighbour. They were all telling me to stop worrying and to get back to sleep. But we couldn't work out how to get the dark on the outside back into the room.

Then I had one of those Eureka! moments.   It was rather like when that apple fell on Einstein's head, stunning him and causing him to come up with his theory of relativity.  ("If only that apple had fallen on one of my relatives instead, I wouldn't have this headache".)    I realised that if I turned off my bedside light, I would bring the dark back into the room. And the rest was darkness.

It has been a hot start to Autumn. Very hot yesterday.  Dorothy O'South Island arrives today, and Jackie is joining us tomorrow for a Thai takeaway.

The meeting at the Kingdom Hall on Sunday calmed me down so much.  Jehovah is rightly called "the God of all comfort".  Mick gave the talk, about continuing to look forward to the restored earthly Paradise. Various people have rung, including Bea, to ask about the situation re the op but I still have no idea when it is to be.

And yet I tell myself what a spoilt first-world worry this is to have.  And how amazing to be living in a window of time when I have this to worry about.  Not only do we have the technology, but we also, for the moment, have the NHS.

But then that gives me an extra worry... suppose the NHS implodes between ops... I will end up very lopsided. One bionic knee, one bad knee, getting worse...  what dreams will come tonight?!

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A Night of Alarms

We had supper with Jackie, which cheered me up no end. She gave us chicken alexander, chocolate mousse, and fizzy wine. Just what the doctor ordered, because I had spent all day trying to find out when my operation date is.  Half the hospital says it is the original date, the other half says it has been postponed for a month AND WILL I STOP BOTHERING THEM.  But how can I find out the new date? I ventured timidly. Apparently I need to contact another hospital altogether AND DON'T I REALISE THAT?!  The Other hospital seemed surprised and puzzled, and will, hopefully, ring me back on Monday, if they are brave enough to ring Hospital No.1 and find out what is going on. I really needed to know by tomorrow as my next injection is due then, and the date of my operation hangs on when I last take it.  It must not be too early, not be too late.

I have lost all confidence now and am on the verge of cancelling the whole thing, and settling for being housebound.  We have a flat with a view and I am a homebody anyway.  Why take the risk?

After all that, and feeling a bit more cheerful after an evening with Jacks, I was just drifting off into a merciful sleep, when BANG! there was a terrible crash right by my head.  "What?!"  I panicked back to consciousness.  "I had to kill that fly" said Captain B, fly swat in hand.

Poor old bluebottle. I think it had settled down for the night. I certainly had.   I began to drift off again.  RING RING RING - Col's call out alarm went off.   He struggled out of bed, and I struggled with some very unChristian thoughts about his volunteer rescue work.  I was vaguely formulating the thought of his needing sandwiches and a flask of tea, when RING RING RING - emergency over, misper (missing person to you civilians) found.  All OK.

I tried to drift back off to sleep. It took a long time.

We have woken up to a sunny morning, but with quite a lot of cloud.  The last day of summer.

How many more summers for us?

Well, I am hoping we will have "unnumbered summers" in the restored earthly Paradise.

We have tea with our new neighbours this afternoon, and more visitors tomorrow.

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Let Them Eat Mangetout!

Jamie Oliver has caused a lot of controversy with his remarks about the way people on benefits manage their food budgets, including a rather unfortunate remark about mangetout being cheaper when bought from your local market.

An obvious problem, leaving aside the mangetout, is that not everyone has a local market within walking distance these days.

Food Poverty seems to be the new black. The Beeb (I think it was the BBC) had a programme on recently where celebrity chefs helped low-income families to cook nutritiously and cheaply.  And it was clearly needed - one pensioner was living on cuppa soups.  Of course, you could also say that a larger state pension would help...  but as that is not on offer, any help has to be good.

And some of the advice was good. But some was dubious; for example, we were reminded how important it is to shop round the various supermarkets.  But I'm not sure how you can do that on a low income, with no car.  And small children. You, presumably, have to shop at whatever is within walking distance.

However, Jamie has a new series coming up - and its all good publicity.  And I am always receptive to ideas for how to eat well on less.  I had a chicken curry from the chill cabinet of a local supermarket a couple of weeks ago, and also made one from scratch for us.  The curry I made was far from brilliant but it was a lot better, and cheaper, than the chill cabinet one. Plus the oil I used was olive oil.  

I think that is the point Jamie is trying to make. And good for him.  I think he will be able to make it effectively.  He is good at showing that cooking can be fun.

Its a lovely sunny morning by the English Channel.  Philip and Seppi arrived last night, having had a great holiday in the West country.

I am still waiting to find out what the new date for my postponed operation will be.

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Sasha

SASHA IN ARABY

 by me

Sasha slides crossly past the sprinklers

On the lawn

What business does his Person have

Turning them on?

This garden is one large sand tray

And Sash could really feel at home

If Mara wouldn’t mess it up with grass

And soggy, peaty loam.

Sand and sun and birds to catch

A Person of his own

Araby would be Paradise

If no for that darned sprinkler on the lawn.

Another cat from the past.  From our early days in Araby, when we spent a lot of time at Mara's - and with her beautiful fluffy Siamese.

Its a sunny morning here - with a calm blue Channel outside.  The Bavarian branch return for a couple of nights on their way back to Germany  - and we are having another Thai takeaway.  Col chauffered me to the meeting on Sunday morning - wonderful talk, given by a local brother.

How much we - the human race, the children of Adam - need the incoming Kingdom of God - the heavenly government that will make "all things new".

I can't think what I did yesterday, beyond my studying on the balcony. We - the worldwide congregations - are still in our detailed study of Jeremiah, trying to learn from his faithful example.  And I did loads of washing so it would all get dry and out of the way before the visitors arrive.

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Householdering on a walking stick

My stint as Rosemary's householder reminded me of my schooldays in an odd way.  I had to hobble, with walking stick and Rosemary's arm, to the small school, and I held up both schools while they had to wait for me.  Then the kind Ghanaian brother who conducts the second school let us go straight to our seats in the front so we didn't have to get up and down again.  Which really helped. I had been worried about that.

My last appearance in the Ministry School - I hope not ever! - but certainly until after my operations.

Anyway, during my second year at big school, our House needed a swimmer - was it Compiegne (spelling?), Picardy, or The Other One - I can't now remember and can't imagine what the point of the House system was - trying to bring some sort of ersatz public school spirit into our Convent High School? - anyway, Sports Day - horrors of horrors - or any rate a Swimming Gala at our local baths.   And - tragedy for Compiegne, Picardy or The Other One, their champion swimmer, the only girl in the House in my year who could dive and swim was off sick. And I was press-ganged into my House (whichever one it was, I'm not sure I even knew at the time) swimming team, to swim for the honour of Whichever House It Was.

Why?  I suppose it was because I was the only other girl who could stay afloat in the deep end.

So we all lined up.  They dove in like speedy arrows.  I jumped.  And then I started my laborious breaststroke.   Slowly slowly I trundled down the first lane, and even more slowly back up the second.  The audience got out its sandwiches and had its lunch while it waited for me.  I did get a cheer at the end, but I think it was a cheer of relief, as finally the next race could begin and they would be that bit nearer to going home.

They call old age "a second childhood" and so its proving to be.

Yesterday was my second pre-op appointment at the hospital. Terrifying.

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The Great British Bake-off is Back

Hurray!  I love it.  My Tuesday nights are sorted for the foreseeable future.  Mary Berry, Paul Hollywood, the contestants, the cakes.  Who could ask for more?

One contestant made a Gaudi Cathedral out of chocolate cake on Tuesday night.

More hospital tomorrow in this continuing run up to THE OPERATION.

And we have heard from Roger who will be in the UK about that time.  Hopefully we will be able to see him, but it will depend how it all goes of course.  Talked to Audrey on the phone a couple of times, and got a lovely card from Seahouses from Penny and George.  I hope that by this time next year I might be able to be doing a bit of travelling in the North myself.

And as the Cakeathon is still on, I managed a couple of batches of marmalade cupcakes to take to the Hall. The brothers and sisters working on the new Kingdom Hall build like homemade cakes in their tea breaks, and its lovely to be able to contribute something.  Jane is up there cooking for them in the field kitchen.

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