The Shepherdess has wilted!

'Shattered' is probably the understatement of the year!

After five months of being at home... going back to work was a bit of a surprise! I can't even say it was a nice one either. They are still bickering and sulking about something that happened six months ago...I remember it well!

I just felt like shouting 'Get over it..life is too short to let things wrankle....' There is an empty room where K used to be, he died unexpectedly in May. I went in and took a picture off the wall that I had drawn for him as a joke....no one would remember the joke now so I have reclaimed the picture before someone bins it.

There are changes afoot, moves and new jobs to do, reports to compile and calls to make, new people to get used to before I have had chance to miss those that have gone.

Today I felt like a hamster ...running on a wheel and getting nowhere!

But never mind....I met four purple people yesterday...that was hilarious!

We have got the street party tomorrow and I have got to make meringues and a huge beef stew! There will be the usual mayhem and madness..we actually have a professional performer living along our track and he does fire eating in the entertainment slot...set fire to the hedge last time!

We will be sitting round the bonfire if the rain keeps off ....mountainear look out for the fireworks...I think we have got two!

Youngest son...the grub that was..has asked if the girlfriend can come......and stay!!! Her mum has been on the phone tonight to check it all out.....hell... that means I have got to stay 'responsible'...'well that will be a first!' says walking friend peeping in again to read!

Chimneys!

I always loved the art lessons at school, my mother was very artistic and had taught me to draw and paint even before I had made my way into the reception class. At secondary school I followed the art classes through to examination stage under the 'care' of a wild red headed woman whose voice could have stripped paint off a door five miles away. She did not suffer fools gladly and would reduce the less artistically able in the class to gibbering wrecks. Her classes were very small! We did cross swords on more than one occassion because she did not like the way that I had been taught by my mother and thought I should express myself in a freer way. Well my way just suited me fine and although for the sake of harmony I tried what she extolled ..it simply wasn't me! I can remember a picture to this day when she stood over me shrieking, 'No No No...put the paint THAT WAY!' It was all blue, french windows opening on to a patio, with flowers...and everything was blue...just different blues and different textures. I've still got it somewhere. it formed part of my portfolio for final examinations. I walked away from shrieking red head wih a top grade and no doubt she patted herself on the back.

It was a complete shock to the system when I arrived at college the following September almost nervously reporting for the A level art class thinking what sort of arty farty loony am I going to get this time and perhaps I should do extra maths, and finding a sweet old lady! Mrs Jones was about as different to whirling dervish as you can imagine. She had white hair with a blue rinse, she wore a navy blue nylon smock and her pockets were always full of pencils. She spoke quietly and always had a shy smile readily available as she gently pointed something out. Mrs Jones never raised her voice in the two years I spent with her and yet the students hung on her every word. Lunchtimes would find Mrs Jones eating her sandwiches in amongst a group of hairy kaftan attired second year students poring over the Art history books and dicussing the merits of Degas or Monet as if they were well aquainted mates.

Mrs Jones was near to retiring age and I think I may have been in one of her last groups and sadly I don't think she had a long retirement. It was looking for trees for Bodran that reminded me of her first lesson that September many years ago. A gentle lady in a blue smock stood in front of us and taught us to simply learn to 'look' and once you know how to 'look' the rest will follow. We were sent out empty handed, no pencils, no paper ...just look! Firstly we were told to look upwards...forget eye level...ignore windows and doors..and people... come back in a week and talk about the chimneys, the roof lights, the attics, tiles and chimney pots.

Chimneys.....I was hooked. The following week Mrs Jones gave out wonderful new sketchpads pencils, charcoal, biros whatever medium you chose and simply said, 'Now I would like to see what you have seen on those roof tops..come back next week and show me.'

Should you ever find yourself in Shrewsbury at a loose end then find the miserable grey building that houses the market that has more attempts at reviving itself than Gary Glitter. If you wander up onto the balcony to look down on the stalls of vegetables, eggs and flowers then find the cafe because out of that huge window you have a panoramic view of old Shrewsbury. The chimneys with so many different pots, dormer windows, quirky roof lines, bits added and bits missing, there are more varieties of tiles than you can shake a stick at. We spent hours in that cafe sketching away surrounded by cold cups of congealed coffee and we learned to look.

In Aberystwyth on Sunday I noticed a roof ....its well over thirty years since Mrs Jones' art classes but I still have to look at the chimneys...and now Bodran has got me looking at trees to find those that dance ...so here are some chimneys for me and a tree for her... and thanks to Mrs Jones.

A day at the seaside

It may have been something to do with the fact that I had taken to whirling my cast iron frying pan around my head looking for a suitable skull to rest it sharply against....or the fact that I was not answering questions..more like snarling a growl....because even when I look back at last week it really was a bit 'uphill' as things go...anyway a day at the sea was suggested. Now that in itself does not have me leaping around full of expectation because I know who has got to do the organising of picnic, car boot, animal tending when we are away, contact normal Sunday lunchers and tell them my Little Chef is closed and suggest youngest brings a mate to keep him occupied...but we set off bright and early in the rain full of the possibilities of a day in the rain in Aberystwyth..and this was supposed to make me less stressed?

It rained all the way to The Red Kite cafe where we had breakfast, swapped drivers and the 'who'll be first to see the sea' competition started. Now I know that on a really fine day just after the Red Kite and before you drop down into the next village you CAN see the sea but did not think for one minute that it was one of those days...but it was! Unbelievable! There we were in rain and mist looking at the most beautiful horizon of tropical blue sea and sky... I almost forgot to scream, 'I can see the sea!' (This poor lad that youngest has towed along..he must have thought he was out with the 'Barking' family!)

It was not a mirage and within twenty minutes we were throwing sticks into the sea for mad labrador who had never seen the sea before and thought it was good sport. BUT where was everybody else? Was there a hidden oil slick? Had we had the four minute warning? There were flags flying announcing 'Seaside Award 2007' but there was nobody else there to read them! We had the whole of the south beach to ourselves! The boys decided to wander off into the town no doubt to ogle the local talent as is the desire of two sixteen year olds and we walked the whole

length of Aberystwyth seafront from harbour to Constitution Hill in beautiful sunshine with jumpers tied round middles. There were more people on the North beach but not as many as one would expect for a sunny June Sunday which I thought was a bit odd but never mind.

By 2pm we were on the road to one of my favourite seaside towns Aberaeron.... where we parked our caravan for many years on a hilltop overlooking the sea and had massive rows about putting the awning up...until one windy August the awning ripped off and blew away..and that marked the end of our caravan holidays ....There are more pastel painted houses now ..there are whole terraces looking like bags of sugared almonds with their windows fringed with gaudy geraniums the size of cabbages. The boats tinkled in the harbour in the afternoon breeze and an old man sat in the shade in his braces with his corgi at his feet watching the world go by.

We had our very new National Trust folder with us and rustled through the handbook to find a local gem ...Llanerchaeron..(this is where the computer literate put in a 'linky' thing but I can't so very sorry) a gentleman's estate left to the NT in 1989. A house designed by John Nash, a working organic farm, a walled garden to die for and a wander through woods full of mature trees and round a lake where swallows skimmed the surface. There was a ladies' boudoir in pale green silks..it was circular... as if in a turret...strange because there were no turrets on the outside...the bedroom doors were convex...so when inside the room ..it was circular...very weird ... but very beautiful. The staircase yelled John Nash as did the glass atrium above the landing, apparently all the curves and circular tweaks are his trademark. The kitchens and scullery were open and full of interesting quirks. There was also a collection on display belonging to a Miss Pamela Ward..a lady much travelled and of independant means..who had bequeathed her collection of over 5000 items to the NT for safe keeping.

The walled gardens took my breath away and I only hope the pictures will do them justice. They are beautiful and amazing. The perfume of roses and herbs on a warm and humid Sunday in June behind the old brick walls was heady, the greenhouses were open and a vine marched through a broken window as if on a mission to escape. I could have spent a week in that garden and not seen the same thing twice.

We could hear farm noises from over the walls and eventually made our way out to find pigs and calves in old walled yards..stables now empty and huge cobbled courtyards waiting for hooves to clip clop across them.

Well they had to show us the door...it was well past closing time when we were prised away...funnily enough no-one was in any hurry to leave...not even the staff who carried on serving teas and vegetables as though it was mid day not nearly 6pm!

We meandered back to Aberaeron for a picnic on the harbour wall, a wander along the river to watch the trout while the boys went off talent spotting. Hymn music and welsh singing came from an open cottage door and I was back in the world of Dylan Thomas and Under Milkwood and Mrs Ogmore Jones.

We lazed over ice cold shandy in the still warm sun with our backs to the harbour wall as little boys worked out crab fishing strategies...and then we trekked home. As we climbed back towards the Red Kite Cafe we could see the windmills starkly white against a navy blue and purple sky .....and the rain started.

and for the two final cats....

The two 'babies' of the feline family are 'charley stripes' as above and 'Black Betty' as per the song of which I only know a couple of lines and no idea who sang it! Wheras Stripey will pose for the camera ...the hell bat will not. Both are related to Crocket and Scruffy cat having the same mothers but with 12 months and heaven only knows how many litters in between that we never knew about. Just why people will not have female cats speyed is beyond me. The mothers of these kittens started producing kittens before they were twelve months old and are now probably dead...

We started rescuing cats after the only cat I ever 'paid ' for had to be given up to a rescue society for its own good. Mitsibushy was a blue persian kitten I purchased from a breeder...only to find it was unwell....it had the greenapple quickstep...the two bob bits....you know what I mean....continually! I spent a fortune at the vets and eventually Mitzi had to go to Liverpool to the Vet University to be diagnosed. All her digestive tract had been rendered sterile by too many antibiotics as a small kitten......Great! So the special diet that was going to cost about £10 per week for her and her alone would be Ok if there were not other cats in the household...but there were! After much soul searching I figured we had done the best for Mitzi that we could by finding out what her problems actually were...the bill had now hit well into three figures! So it was with a heavy heart I contacted the Persian Cat rescue people who at once found Mitzi a home where she would be cherished and fed her special food and where she would be an 'only' cat.

In return I agreed to give a 'rescued' cat a home......we are up to seven now! They are a family in their own right and we watch their antics, their moods, their squabbles with pleasure. they are safe here well away from the road, with woods and fields to play and hunt in as they wish. They are all fed and watered daily...can come in and out as they wish...jabbed annually for cat lergys and have 'visitors' removed very quickly. I think I have done my bit in return for Mitzi now and there will be no more additions to the feline family! She says! What 'he' says may differ in the face of nice lady from Cat Protection....

..of medicinal things

A while ago I blogged about the book we compiled from taped memories of the elderly of the parish...in there were some pretty gruesome remedies for minor afflictions..some of which you may have seen me taunting En Peu with in the commenty bit for her gardener Loic..(my hero)

Just thought I would share a few and wondered if you had any more...

...'Children were given a weekly dose of Epsom Salts, Castor Oil or brimstone and treacle. Home made remedies included gorse blossom tea, yarrow tea and a mixture of butter, sugar and vinegar for sore throats, feverfew for headaches, greater celandine sap for curing warts...or a local person would be asked to 'charm' them away. Bathing with salt and water would prevent blood poisoning..and often did! Boils were treated with plasters of carbolic soap and brown sugar. An alternative was to fill a bottle with boiling water, pour this out and apply the steam filled bottle immediately with the rim over the boil. Very painful but very effective.' EG

..'If we had a bad throat mother used to get a piece of fat bacon, put it on a piece of paper and that's what we had around our neck. For coughs you took black treacle and bacon liquor. if you had a bad chest you would rub it well with goose fat. Mum always used to put a shallot in the oven, get that warmed up and put it in the ear for earache' PC

..'.I proabably had goose oil rubbed on my chest, we saved it in a jar, then of course you'd take the rest out when you was ploughing and put it on the wheel of the plough, you always greased things in them days. You had no oil. You'd pull the wheel off the cart, grease it with goose grease and put the wheel back on'. JP

.....'For a sore throat..a sweaty unwashed sock could be tied around the neck....and a remedy for goitre, a common ailment in mineral mining areas, was to put a live mole in a stocking and tie it around the affected neck..By the time the mole had died..the goitre would have gone!'

...'For warts ..a black snail was to be rubbed on the warts and then impaled on a blackthorn. As the snail dies and decomposes the warts disappear...if it proves difficult to find a balck snail an alternative was to cut an apple in half...eat one half, the other half to be rubbed on the warts and buried'

...'My granny had eighteen children but she buried two within a fortnight of each other with measles. Granny was expecting Uncle Harry at the time and her sister came from Manchester to look after her, bringing her little girl with her who had measles. These two little ones, one was two years old and one was three, died within a fortnight. The children dwindled down to ten, but she had one or two still born as well. I think originally she had twenty one! SH

Can I hear anybody muffling a scream yet?


Has anyone got any more gruesome medicinal cures? Before we all get burnt at the stake that is!

Monday 18 June 2007

This date appeared on dentist appointment card and physio appointment card...thing is..the dentist is in Ludlow right at the bottom of Shropshire and 30 miles from home and the physio is in Oswestry right at the top of Shropshire and another 30 miles from home! Good job I am driving again! Anyway have been to Ludlow and dentist and came away with nothing to be done...well there is a bridge awaiting me at some time but I just feel that I am being fiddled with enough at the mo and it can wait a while.

What a miserable day..its like November here with clinging grey mist lying low on all the hills and drizzle. I was looking forward to the drive to Ludlow ...it really is pretty with the Longmynd hills really 'in your face' as you leave Lydham and head for Craven Arms. But the Longmynd was not even visible this morning and all the cars had headlights on. And this is June? Anyway forget the weather and come on in to my sunny room....the coffee is on and I've bought a big bag of cherry scones from Price's the bakers in Ludlow and they're still warm. The picture is The Devils Chair on the Stiperstones from the road by Hope school. Yes...go on ...you can stick your feet under you on the old settee..we all do...

Where was I ...Oh yes Ludlow....I worked in there for five years as Court Manager...a small Court and where they always put newly promoted mangers to 'cut their teeth' so to speak. Middle son was very new and went to nursery there for four years...he gets totally mortified when I remind him of the ballet classes he went to while in Ludlow. Well.... he had very bad ear infections as a baby and they seemed to knock his balance and speech about...nursery lady suggested ballet classes might help his balance and off he went twice a week...the only boy with about thirty little girls! He loved every minute of it! Never told his mates at home though and that sort of news never travelled....unless mother was feeling particularly evil...tee hee! Yes.. it did wonders for his balance... if not his street cred!

It was a really friendly place to work and even now some 15 years later I can still walk down the street and find a face I recognise and we have a natter....not like Oswestry where I spent 10 years and never knew a soul! I went to find Broadhurst's the material shop in the hope of some pinking shears and...its shut..and gone...Oh dear! Just where is one going to buy deck chair canvas from now I wonder ?...it was a weird shop but lovely. The journey back from Ludlow was just as miserable in the rain but I noted a few changes...what is that big place behind the Clive Arms at Onibury? Looks like an organic food centre of some sort...will have to come back soon and have a sprot round. Craven Arms doesn't change much ..still reminds me of a one horse western town with the last chance saloon on the one side and the undertaker on the other...mind you I do have a tale about that last chance saloon....or The Craven Arms Hotel! I was actually barred from there...maybe still am ....never been back since that night!

We had gone on a works outing from the hospital where Husband (Mark 1) was a staff nurse, to see Del Shannon of all people. A supper was included in the ticket price and I think the coach was full so that meant there must have been over 50 of us. The evening did not start well...the supporting act was a comedian who was dire! Someone threw a tomato and sure enough another one or fifteen followed. The management pleaded for order and the Craven Arms locals blamed the incomers...us! On came the main man but if he was Del Shannon then I was the milkman! This was an old man with long white hair, a voice that sounded like a creaking gate, and either drugged or drunk! Ever heard 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' sung in an old peoples home? I think the consensus of opinion was that the whole thing was a 'rip off' and the shouting started, fights started...Craven Arms is famous for fighting just in case you didn't know. Saturday nights used to be the best when the Clun lads came down for their weekly scrap! Chairs started flying and I went to the loo...as you do...only to be met by a fierce looking girl with drawn on eye brows in black...who, as quick as a flash belted me in the face. Charming! Not one to 'turn the other cheek' and forgive and forget...I belted her straight back..and wow did we scrap..I cringe at the memory! Eventually we were all forcibly removed to our awaiting pumpkin and white horses just as the police arrived. The manager escorted by the men in blue got on the coach and shouted 'YOUR'E ALL BARRED ...INDEFINITELY'....as if any one of us would ever come back! I wonder where everybody on that coach is now and if they tell the same tale? Many of them went on to rather illustrious careers in the Health Service and I see their names now in very important high places and wonder if they still giggle at the night they got barred from The Craven Arms Hotel? Guess who strolled into Ludlow Court one fine afternoon a few years later...I recognised the eyebrows! She said looking very closely at me...'Don't I know you from somewhere?' ....'Who? Me?.....Surely not!' I said whilst thinking..I've still got the scar on my nose you cow!

On we go down the A49 and turn left for Bishops Castle and Mid Wales...the PYO fruit farm where I used to stop with son on the way home on a summer evening to pick strawberries for tea, where I first bought asparagus from and where the gooseberries are as big as golf balls...I was going to stop today for some strawberries but rain has stopped play. What a crying shame after all that lovely weather in April that in rains like this now in the PYO season. Over to Lydham through the fields of the Walcot and Plowden estates and to the Harvest Whole Foods farm shop where you can find just about every herb or spice known to man and a few more besides. I could just stand in that shop and breathe in all those spicey, herby aromas all day but don't think they will appreciate it so I settle for some dried apricots, coconut, almonds, ginger and oats and I'm on my way down the home staight.

Should really be making jam for the Bog Visitor Centre..have found the message....'Yer shelf's empty!' on the phone.. but not enough time really before I am on the road again.. so I'm here instead ..entertaining...more coffee? There's some scones left in the bag...


This is the 'street' where we live...what does yours look like?

Remember those shy sheep we purchased on a day from hell last Saturday? I have seen them...lurking under the dead tree in the dip...where's the camera......got it with me for a change!

Got them......now how close can I get? Wow this is good...they are watching the dog, not me........Kim... stay right there....

Right purplecooers a lesson in farm livestock coming up.....these are Torddu (Badger Faced Welsh Mountain) sheep .....with Dartmoor lambs ...one of which does not appear to have been wormed yet! The black stripe must run from nose all the way underneath right to the tip of the tail. They were at one stage on the Rare Breed list but I don't think they are now. The sister breed is Torwen. We have six pure bred lambs on order to join these girls in August and eventually a pure bred gentleman will pay a visit .....you know the rest.....




Bodran...are you there? You have got me hooked on lookng at trees now! At mid day yesterday two strange looking women were stomping up the A488 in Hope valley to take pictures of trees no less! I was the one in the pink jumper and that was my little walking friend with me.....you know her...that one that comes in to read the blogs but is too frit of her computer to join in! Yes Caroline I know
you are reading this .... And Mountainear ...you will no doubt recognise this....what does it look like from your side?



Since I have been at this skool for wayward women and disfunctional dogs I have learnt a whole bagful of things about my computer I would not have done....but please do not ask me to do an avatar ever again.....phew that was a swine! Met loads of interesting people that do loads of interesting things, fallen in love with a one legged gardener with shellshock...bless him, got recipes and gardening tips...Countrymousie my sick arum lily looks well now in the rockery...and Sally Chateau...that lemon pud is a firm family favourite.....AND I am now learning what I can do with last year's birthday pressie from my lot....I think they had despaired....from one who was camera mad before digital...I virtually came to a standstill! Not now though....I am off and camera comes too.....all the time...just in case a spot a tree with features.....or something....

Smokey joe and the Tatty cat

Oh swiney swiney...why does that happen! I turn it up the right way in Picasa and somewhere up the tube it reverts! Never mind....I apologise for all the cricks in necks that I am inflicting...take plenty of cod liver oil and you will be fine...honest!

Well here we have Smokey Joe and The Tatty Cat who always sleep together....no not THAT way! She's old enough to be his mother for goodness sake!

The Tatty Cat was found at night in the middle of a lane near here where she was lucky not to have been flattened. Eagle eyed assistant shepherdess Bev saw what she thought was a rat and we stoppped the car and found a kitten! She was so small and ill that we kept her in a waste paper basket by the boiler and took her to the vets the next day with a lamb that was ailing.

The prognosis was not good....she had got viral pneumonia, fleas, lice, her eyes weren't open and basically she had been left to die, just take her home and keep her warm and she will pass away. However the lamb was short on a Vitamin and after jab should be up and running.

Next morning....the lamb was dead....dead as dead can get! The kitten however was demanding food....loudly! Her eyes were actually open but so full of pus...it took an age to clean them. Youngest son was just a toddling menace at the time and soon found the kitten and with a chubby hand would attach kitten to front of woolly jumper where she would hang on for grim death while he proudly announced 'Rupert's tat...Rupert's tat' ...his name was not Rupert and hers was not Tat but we got the gist! Tatty cat she became from then on and has been with us 15 years now. She loves men especially hubby and follows him round like a dog from the minute he walks in....she sleeps on his feet...she waits by the bathroom door....she rushes to meet his car.....reads the paper with him....sick making isn't it? She loves the dogs as well and meets them nose to nose and is not scared of cuffing them sharply if they get out of line. She is the matriarch of our feline family...well I think she is feline ....but I'm not tooo sure!

Smokey Joe is about the softest cat going...easily bullied by the others he always turns to Tatty to sort it out. He is grey, big and so beautiful, he is gentle and never puts a claw wrong, he is affectionate but on the shy side. He was an unwanted kitten hubby found on his travels and he offered the owner a leg of lamb for him knowing I had always wanted a grey cat. At that time before Foot and Mouth we used to have our own lambs killed and butchered and sell them to local people....didn't like doing it much ..but it was good business..and I enjoyed packing the boxes with sprigs of mint, rosemary and the odd jars of herb jelly, redcurrant jelly and mint sauce that I made myself. Foot and Mouth put pay to that little side line ...no longer able to have sheep killed locally. Anyway a leg of our best lamb and Smokey Joe was mine.

And just to finish off ..another Mary Webb poem for all those that had never heard of her poetry..... this one reminds me of my mum.

The Happy Life

No silks have I, no fur or feathers,

But one old gown that knows all weathers;

No veils nor parasols nor lace,

But rough hands and a tanned face.

Yet the soft crinkled leaves are mine

Where pale, mysterious veins shine,

And laced larches upon the blue,

And grey veils where the moon looks through;

The cries of birds across the lawns

In dark and teeming April dawns;

The sound of wings at the door-sill,

Where grows the wet-eyed tormentil;

The ripe berries witcheries -

In perfect round that satisfies;

And in the gay sent of the wood I burn,

And the slap of butter in a busy churn.

OOOOOh Bodran...look wot I found....reminded me of your tree spirits dancing! Have got more will try to put them on....but I think me and photo's are not too good on here...I think I lost yesterday's up a tube somewhere!





We went on a good old yomp yesterday around the hamlets of More and Linley making our way gradually up hill to the Linley Beeches ....an avenue of ancient beech trees supposedly planted by prisoners of war from the Napoleonic wars on the Linley estate. They are visible for miles and are on part of The Shropshire Way route. Amazing! The trees are majestic, artistic, atmospheric and cared for, saplings are planted where age has taken its toll to ensure the avenue will still be here for generations to come.

Phew! That was hard work...is it in the right place ? will it stay put? Send me a couple of tree spirits to sort it out Bodran!

Anyway...today I shall be sharing my two favourite poems..and why they are my favourites.

Way back in the early 1980's there was me 28 years old, a mother of a three year old being incredibly brave about being newly divorced and being supported by mum and dad...mum punctuating every sentence with 'I told you so!' I decided I was going to stand on my own two rather shaking feet and bought a cottage ...a titchy little ex coal miner's cottage, two up, two down plus bathroom and large garden with apple tree. I think my solicitor had thought I was going to stay in the matrimonial home and claim a fortune for the next 14 years at least...well he seemed somewhat fazed at what I decided to do. When the final documents came through there was the normal solicitor type jargonese ....but at the bottom just before 'Yours sincerely' was the following.......

........ I shall arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean rows shall I have there, a hive for the honey bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

That started my love affair with Ireland and William Butler Yeats. Three years ago we went to The Lake Isle of Innisfree, Ballylee and Coole and it was wonderful. The solicitor? One of my bestest friends that is always there for me...whatever.

Mary Webb..the Shropshire authoress was a tormented soul bless her...I love her novels although many slate them...but I do find her poetry rather melancholy even to the point of funeralistic...(is that a real word?) but there is one that comes to my mind often....

Fairy Led

The fairy people flouted me,

Mocked me, shouted me -

They chased me down the dreamy hill and beat me with a wand,

Within the wood they found me, put spells on me and bound me

And left me at the edge of day in John the miller's pond.

Beneath the eerie starlight

Their hair shone curd-white;

Their bodies were all twisted like a lichened apple tree;

Feather light and swift they moved,

And never one the other loved,

For all were full of ancient dreams and dark designs on me.

With noise of leafy singing

And white wands swinging,

They marched away amid the grass that swayed to let them through.

Between the yellow tansies

Their eyes like purple pansies,

Peered back on me before they passed all trackless in the dew.

Perhaps not the stuff of GCSE English Lit ...but I love it and can see the picture clearly.

Dear Mr Sanderson.......

Dear Mr Sanderson,

Do you remember that fabric and wallpaper you used to do entitled 'Rose and Peony' and the fact that I bought yards of it to furnish my little cottage. It looked lovely against the little paned windows and I had piles of cushions on baskety chairs. Well just in case you have forgotten I thought I would remind you by picking a bunch from my garden.

When I went back to the material shop to get some more to make even more sunny cushions you had crept in and altered the background from white to old gold....not a nice thing to do to a person of limited means living in an ex coal miners cottage with a three year old was it? I couldn't afford to do everything again to suit your whim and the old gold did not complement the white at all. I purchased plain pink, made by someone else I hasten to add, and got round the problem that way. I still have the rose and peony cushions, they are still well after all these years so I cannot argue about the quality, they live in the summerhouse now on the same baskety chairs. its much quiter in there for materials their age.

I moved house after that and still used the cushions, the curtains were relegated to the bedroom, the lounge windows were full length...floor to ceiling and I had brown velvet ones made. I was not there that long and moved to a bigger house and once again came knocking on your pattern book door. Kashkan this time, a beautiful print, far eastern it seemed was the theme and there were blues, pinks, cream, sea green and a sandy peachy colour in flowers and squares, paisley swirls and twirls...I never tired looking at it..but then I did have rather a lot of it! Two large windows were curtained with it and the large squashy sofa and chair were covered in it but, I hasten to add, it was the only pattern in the room, plain beige carpet and magnolia walls, and it was after all a big room. Well I loved it!

Sorry Mr Sanderson ...have to digress here to tell the purple people about my cousin copying my ideas!

I have a cousin who is seven years older than me, she lived in the same village, went to the same schools, there the similarity ends, I got qualifications, she married well...well very, very, well as it happens! On one of her few visits home from a very posh suburb of Southampton she called in to see 'country cousin' and simply enthused at the Kashkan material. 'Ooooooooh must have some of that.'..she cried, 'it would look suuuuuuper in my lounge!
and to be truthful it did. 'Well it won't matter me having the same will it deah ?...after all my friends are hardly likely to call here are they?' Bit below the belt I thought! Aha ...but there's nothing to stop me and MY friends calling a few years later when driving to France with an hour to spare before ferry crossing! I coached them well.....word perfect! It cost me though .....the meals on the ferry crossing for a start! What a bitch!Me I meant not her!

Right Mr S where were we? Oh yes Kashkan! There were now three boys in the house and the covers held up well to regular washing, on a boil wash as well! But something had to give ....the sofa cushions did for a start and then the frilly bit round the bottom went. Off I went back to the shop to get some more of this lovely material to do some repairs.....'What do you mean 'discontinued' ?' I was fit to be tied Mr Sanderson I dont mind telling you! You had done this to me before you swine! Not giving up this time as easy I searched high and low, the lady in the material shop told me where to write to ....and I did....not even a 'push off you daft bint' came back. After about six months of searching I gave up and had the suite recovered in plain dark blue ...not yours Mr Sanderson, not one of yours.

Yes I know its all in the name of good business etc etc and you have to change patterns regularly to keep customers interested but surely somewhere it would be possible to keep a little stock of back numbers for little people such as me who spent a fortune on your materials and then get stuck at 'discontinued'! Well we moved again, you will be pleased to hear, the Kashkan curtains are in the bedrooms now...still lovely. The old blue sofa and chair eventually became so squashy it was embarassing and they had to be replaced and no, Mr Sanderson I did not return to your pattern books....I was out voted....the men chose black leather..and very comfortable it is too! But I still remember Rose and Peony Mr Sanderson ...do you?

Yours sincerely......

Crocket , the white dog allergy and new shoes

Sounds like something from MMe Grognonne chronicles! Anyway the cat in the picture is youngest son's scarf! He wears this cat most waking moments round his neck with that great big tail hanging down his back...hence the name. You have to enlarge the pic to get the real effect of the tail. Crocket is 4 years old and is a cousin to Scruffy and was found in a rather emaciated state in some bales where their mothers, obviously very young sister kittens themselves, were hiding. When not around the formerly dirty neck of 15 year old son.....(dont forget.. he found girls a few weeks ago and is a quite reformed character on the water front now!) Crocket has to be the master hunter of our cat collection...I am sure we have had more mice through our doors than are left outside ...shrews are the current delicacy. But I think Crocket is a bit soft really for a hunter ...he can't quite bring himself to do the final crunch and kill the little beasties...so he brings them in alive and Dudley has to finish the job off ..he who doesn't have any qualms about it...that's when we have found them from wherever they have escaped to! Is that a scream I can hear ...coming faintly out of the back of the computer?
Crocket is also long haired and will stand to be brushed, has no nasty characteristics at all and is indeed a joy to have about because he talks away..chirruping and miaowing..in conversation as though he is simply a person in a long haired cat suit. Crocket and I were discussing those shoes when I took the picture...he had just come in with a mouse for Dudley to do the business with and thought he'd have a rest on the mat and survey the front garden...when we started discussing those red shoes!
Those...for those that do not know...are..and I quote from the label...'Converse..An American original. Converse created the first basketball shoe - the grandfather of all athletic shoes to follow' and so-on. I bet Chuck Taylor never envisaged them in bright red, size 10, being worn by the most unathletic kid on the block with black jeans and a black triby hat, dark glasses..and a stringy little bracelet with a green fish and two red beads...yes it's still there! This is eldest son's birthday present to youngest who is 16 tomorrow! However his bestest birthday pressie would be if the dentist removed the 'train tracks' he has had for well over two years and has never complained once. He has a science exam tomorrow morning and the dentist tomorrow afternoon...what a way to spend a birthday!!!

...and finally in answer to all those people who wondered how I know that it is white dogs, and only white dogs that I am allergic to ..are you sitting comfortably...?

We moved here 10 years ago and up until then I had never had a wheezey chest, certainly had never had asthma..and on the whole was a picture of health...physically! From the first spring I noticed a definite wheeze and the symtoms of hay fever as did two eldest sons...we gobbled up Benadryl and Piriton to counteract it and blamed...the huge pussy willow tree in the garden, the bracken behind the house in the woods, the woods...being so close....you name it.. we blamed it! But we were now living in such a beautiful place..away from the road, with views across the valley to the Long Mountain (where Mountainear is) and it seemed a small price to pay.

Christmas 2000 ..youngest had been clamouring for a puppy to take beating with his brothers and dad who all had working gun dogs. A beautiful English Springer puppy arrived on Christmas morning and made his day. Lucy is predominantly white with a few liver blotches ...I must take a picture...she has been trained properly...as has her owner...at Powys Castle by the Mid Wales Gun Dog Society and now they are a striking pair on any shoot. Which is why the dog will not be going anywhere despite mum's affliction!

As mum's usually do ...I would hoover the kennels out...we have three working dogs...Lucy and two black labradors, mother and daughter Kim and Skye...they all live outside in kennels. I would remove the beds for washing and de flea dogs and kennels on a regular basis. Four times I ended up having an asthma attack and a week in hospital before the link was made.....the dogs! But hang on a mo...how come I could spend hours with Kim...black lab....and have no symtoms whatsoever? Went for sensitivity tests ...the Dr said, 'bet you a fiver its the cats' .......'OK you're on ...coz I know its a dog!' I replied! I won! Never coughed up though did he!

The two black dogs give me no problems at all ...but the lovely Lucy can reduce me to a gasping, sweating heap in less than 10 minutes. Even if she has been in a vehicle and I get in later ...I know......believe me ...I know! It is something to do with her skin and the flakes they shed ...the dander...and I have a horrific allergy to the dander of white dogs. Father in law has two white dogs...in the house...we went to visit on his birthday...when we left ....I gasped ...take me to hospital NOW!
We've never had a white cat ....and somehow I don't think we will be because I just do not want to go there!

homework!

Right here is my eight, seven, five or whatever it is now.....

1. Have been a Parish Councillor for 5 years...some exiting topics include the provision of dog **** bins, (not yet) recycling, (not much) provision of benches, (not on your nelly) speed limits, (what speed limit?) street lights,(no never) illegal fishing, (no fish) planning matters..(does it?) and the deaths of unsuspecting house martins from flying into wind turbines..(do they? dont know haven't found one yet....a wind turbine or a dead house martin!) As you can tell the Vicar of Dibley is alive and well and shall I write the next series?

2. Represented Shropshire at Goldsmiths Hall on behalf of the St John Ambulance Brigade and met Duke of Gloucester. Only time persuaded into posh frock ...which my mum made...bless.

3. I adore toast ...don't care whats on it ....naked is fine ...just gimme gimme warm toast. Brown, white, granary, soda...not fussy just toast it!

4. I am allergic to white dogs....which is a pain because we have got one such creature. This foible means I do not have to sweep kennels out or wash dog beds....the last time I did it meant a hospital bed for a week! Pain for booking holiday cottages though ....'have any of the previous five tenants had a white dog?'

5. Still living within 5 miles of my family home..not a good traveller...and didn't grow out of it as expected. Long distance means loadsadrugs and loose a couple of days in the haze! As for flying.....cannot even imagine risking it. Big ships seem OK - fewer drugs needed...but never done a bad weather trip.

6. Open University student....love it! Have done Chemistry and Nutrition, Health and Social Care, Human Biology and the History of Medicine...having a year out this year....mistake...miss it.

7. Wanted to go to Art School....didn't....Wanted to be a Police woman ....didn't...started Nurse training....hated it! Yuk! Yuk! Yuk! Worked for Government Departments thereafter including...MAFF now the Department for Educating Farmers how to Ruin Agriculture....(well have you ever read the load of codswallop they send out?) and The Court Service which I think has been renamed since I have been off sick to something else ...

8. Main hobby ..making preserves ..well there's nothing like a couple of cauldrons boiling away is there headmistress? Make jars and jars of jams, jellies, marmalades, chutneys, pickles...you name it... I'll pickle it.....for the local visitor centre, for presents, for market stalls, for our cupboards..

there you go ...all done..can I go out and play now please?

Was it that lilac that did it?

Some time ago...well I know the lilac was out and people were discussing whether it was bad luck to bring it into the house or not...I did a blog on the 'bad luck' this family had experienced since January 2007 and a long list it was too! Anyway loads of purple vibes and reassurances given that surely that would be an end to it......it wasn't!

The same son who I was visiting in hospital when I fell and caused so much damage to my arm, dislocated his thumb at work ....but it now appears that the tendon has been severed ...yep...operation date awaited at the Orthopaedic hospital ....yep... the one I have just been discharged from! The duck saga with nasty neighbour is at stalemate at the moment. Lucy...youngest son's beautiful Springer Spaniel was supposed to have produced pups on 2 June...had been given all the right extras...put on the required amount of weight...produced milk...made nest....and what did she produce? Nothing! She is a doting mother to a stuffed toy mouse which she is guarding with her life. Then there was Saturday.....oh hell ....Saturday...I cringe with heat exhaustion at the memory.........

Saturday 9th June 2007 ....a date that will remain etched on my memory for a long time...and in the cheque book.....and in the movement of animals book!

It was a lovely sunny morning and we hurtled into Shrewsbury town centre to get youngest measured up for suit for prom ball on 29 June...(.where has this prom ball thing come from..can't remember having one ...am I a deprived child?) 'I don't think we can park here...', I tentatively said. 'Course we can...its Saturday!' came the confident reply. Suit duly measured for and return to car just in time to see yellow ticket being firmly stuck into position by new fangled traffic warden...(what do they call them?...no.. I mean the proper name) I bit my tongue and did not utter the retort that was nearly choking me ....no prizes for guessing what it was.

Off we head for Bridgnorth where there was a sale of agricultural and vintage bits and bobs (rubbish in other words) and some rare breed cattle and sheep. It was hot and there was not a breath of air. The car park was full and we had to park in a field and walk back..no problem..we were still looking forward to it all. The stuff to be sold was laid out in rows on what was the normal car park...a hard and dusty surface. We wandered around and himself showed interest in boxes of nails, old hay racks full of woodworm, an old church pew, wheel barrows, sit on mowers, tractors, trailers and a couple of land rovers that even to my inexperienced eye had seen better days ... in about the 1940's..

Then it was off to the animals, of which there were not a lot...Jacob sheep ..been there done that ..they do not appreciate our high up position and suffer pneumonia. Herdwick sheep?...mmm like these.. but himself says an emphatic 'no'....Hebridean sheep.?....mmmm definitely not.....that was it ...looked at the cattle...Dexters...lovely little cows but we are NOT having cows and so it was back out into the searing heat to watch a pile of chains being sold....yawn. More trailers arrived to offload sheep.. and then it happened.... a trailer opened and there they were ...Torddu ewes with lambs. these are Welsh Badger faced sheep that we have been looking at for a long time and actually have some lambs on order for August.

Despite the fact that we have arrived at Bridgnorth in MY car...(which now has a parking ticket don't forget) himself decides to bid on the pen of Torddu sheep..and gets them! 'Lovely...' I say thinking how the hell are we going to get this lot home? 'Oh it will be OK ..I'll find someone about from our way...' ...he didn't. So it was back to the boiling car and 30+ miles back home to swap vehicles and bring trailer back for said sheep.

On the way back to Bridgnorth the Jeep started to overheat and he turned the heater on to help disperse the heat from the engine....or some such excuse. The sweat was simply running off me...yes I know ladies simply do not sweat....OK my skin was leaking..whatever...it was berludy boiling! Anyone that knows Shropshire may know Harley Bank ...Angel ..I can hear you laughing ot loud +++! Well Harley Bank is where not to be in an overheating vehicle towing a trailer on any day never mind a boiling hot Saturday in June! It is steep and narrow and high limestone cliffs on each side and no pull in places to be had. I closed my eyes, crossed everything, held on to the door handle...and sweated.

With steam coming from every orifice we limped into Bridgnorth market...backed up to the sheep pens....he opened the bonnet and ...whooooooooooosh! A fountain of brown rusty water and anitfreeze went at least ten feet in the air...and kept going! Because the windows had been open...it went in there as well! What a mess! I retired gracefully to the sheep pens...well I had got a white tee shirt on...while men gathered around the open bonnet with suggestions ...as they are wont to do ..in such situations.

With a refilled radiator and loads of containers of water we set off on the long journey home...well at least we would be going down Harley Bank. It was a long journey....an absolute
age..and it was hot..and dirty with rusty water everywhere...even between my toes..Yuk! We opened the trailer in our field and there I am poised with the camera... they went past me like greased lightening ...across the field ...and I haven't seen them since! I presume they are still there..somewhere in the trees and the long grass and I will get a picture...sometime.

Today the Jeep has gone into the garage for a new radiator....I need a new white tee shirt ... a cheque is on its way for £30 parking ticket ....I think we have 6 new sheep ...somewhere.. and we only went to Bridgnorth to have a look!

Has someone got a recipe to lift a curse?

Foxy Lady ...known to us all as Scruffy Cat!

A long haired tortoiseshell kitten from under some bales on a small holding in very south Shropshire. As wild as a farm cat could be and can still return to it when the vet arrives with needles. She is now four years old and has been beset with health problems since day one. She has had cat flu twice despite the injections, viral infections and a liver infection and has probably cost me more in vets bills than the other six put together....but she is soooooooo pretty.

She will stand to be brushed ....thank goodness because she really does get in some awful tangles. We live well away from a road and back onto woods....a haven for the cats...thats why we bought the house ...yep... for the cats! I do not jest!!! But woods and long undergrowth mean those sticky spikey things that stick in fur .....grrrrrr! Bits of bracken get plaited into what can only be classed as dreadlocks .....and she didn't go out with them in the morning!

But Foxy Lady ...or Scruffy, to her friends, is the complete opposite of Dudley ....she is so gentle and affectionate...never a claw in sight, unless you just happen to be the vet! She is as light as a feather on her feet and can simply appear at amazing heights with no effort. This young madam loves to play with the dogs and will roll in the grass with them on a walk down the track quite happily...then tears off at 90 mph to get up a tree to dive bomb them as they pass below. Then its back to the ironing basket in the conservatory for a sleep in the sun before the woods and their secrets call......

Dudley....no not the place...the cat!

How did that happen? turned it up the right way over on Picasa.....sorry folks...can't seem to turn it here .its a crick in the neck jobby to see Dudley properly.

Dudley was obtained by my boys as a birthday present for me when things were not to good in this household. They knew I had always hankered after a grey cat ....well black + white = grey, he was free to a good home and we were all a bit strapped for cash then. He was the last kitten in the box at a farm somewhere on the outskirts of Newcastle on Clun a very sleepy but beautiful place in the South Shropshire Hills where we had spent the day paddling in streams, lying in the sun and picnicing.

When we got him home and he came out of his box I realised just why he was the last one left in the box.....he had 'wrong' legs! Yes... he had got legs but the back ones were normal whilst the front ones were very very short.... oooops! Just imagine the walk and try not to laugh......stop it ...I can see a smirk...

Off we went to the vet......it appears he has a full joint missing out of both front legs....suspect waterworks......but otherwise should live about 5 years giv or take a year or so....Well ...he is ten this year....and I dont know how he has made it.....no... he hasn't been ill that much.....he has been a car chaser!

Dudley.....(Dudley Moore ....got the connection yet?) was the cuddliest kitten ever....he would lie on his back in my arms for hours purring away like an engine. He tried climbing trees but failed miserably because he could not do the return trip and had to be rescued by ladders on so many occasions it started to become embarassing....his stumpy little legs never stopped him hunting though and he is the best squirrel killer in the county! It is a gruesome sight watching Dudley eating one .....starts at the head....all the body, including the legs ....until there is just the tail hanging out of his mouth like a grey beard....Yuk, Yuk, Yuk!

Dudley can terrorise any dog....our three close their eyes and run past him at a rate of knots. He is definitely the boss cat in this household of 7 felines....they all move back when he approaches the feed bowls....and don't start until he has chosen his!

But somewhere about nine years ago ...Dudley met with an accident when he tried to chase a motor bike and failed. He ended up in the vets with so many broken ribs we thought that was the end of him ....but.. no he is a resilient little chap and recovered ...but he had changed...he would now bite if his back was touched.....but he is sooooooooooo sweet because he sits up like a squirrel and so many people have been 'had' thinking he is desperate for fussing! He isn't! He just wants to draw blood!

The scene...my dining room
The venue for street (street? sorry ....but gravel track with grass up the middle doesn't quite sound right) meeting about surface of said 'street'.
All neighbours....including the one that hates my ducks.....present.
Dudley on top form....sitting up to greet everyone....'how much blood can I draw tonight' licking of lips! I WARN EVERYONE .....DO NOT TOUCH DUDLEY! Do they listen ....do they hell! I find him flat on his back in the arms of the retired Doctor who insists he knows all about cats and their quirks! Meeting starts! Scream from retired Doctor ...pouring blood from nasty gash on hand. Stop meeting for First Aid break. Doctor duly bandaged....resume meeting......Scream from another cat loving neighbour who also thought they knew all about cats.......forget it sweetheart Dudley is not a cat.....he is a trainee vampire and once you realise that you will be safe!

Even I ...his champion...the one who unreservedly loves the little swine....has been caught. He puts his paws up to be picked up like a child .....so I did! The gash on my lip took weeks to heal! He loves to terrorise the young ladies that the boys have brought home and will actually stalk them like a tiger stalking prey.....more squeals and screams and standing on chairs. He is the best getting up device known to a mother.....open the bedroom door and shout 'Dudleeeeey' and a sleeping boy will emerge from the quilt like a rocket ....'dont you let that cat in here!'

Should he decide to sit on a knee of an evening....that's it mate ...you will stay put until Dudley decides to go...otherwise the growling will start and that is the prelude to a good biting should you try to dislodge him. Annual cat injections are always given to the newest vet in the practice to administer....its an 'initiation' thing.....they all know Dudley!

He sits by me on the mouse mat as I type all my blogs....he's here now...wonder if he can read?
Well Dudley...I still love you ....I might be on my own in your fan club....but I think you are great.....just don't bite me any more pleeeeeeease

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster? Part 3

...We came back from South Wales in time for the new school term and settled back into life up here on our hill without the man of the household who was residing with his parents in Wales. I had worked for a long spell in a County Court on the family section and knew how to fill a divorce petition in with my eyes closed. I got the forms and filled them in, they are still at the bottom of the drawer in the dresser...undated. Life went on. I became rather flattered at the attentions of a batchelor farmer....until I looked with cynicism at what he'd be getting...a country girl used to animals, and the countryside, with cooking and housekeeping experience, three strapping healthy sons used to hard work in the open air......Oh no!!! Its 'mum' tatooed across my forehead not 'mug'! He is still looking .....elsewhere..!

Strangely enough it was middle son who wanted to heal the rift....he that had bourne the brunt of it all that night. How come he, at 16, could forgive and understand but I still could not? I remained in fear of the unknown....terrified of the black depression the had overtaken all emotions...I was too scared to go forward, too scared to get out, too scared to look back....I was stuck in limbo ....and no, I was not strong....I was a gibbbering wreck!

We had some contact ...we had bills to pay, a house to run, animals to care for and things to discuss. I agreed to some counselling sessions which were a bit of a joke really becasuse I ended up doing the counselling and helping the lady fill in her divorce forms to save on a solicitor! Mental Health were looking after N and he was back on the anti depressents but still having the 'turns' which had worsened in that they were no longer silent and went on a lot longer. He wanted to come with me to watch youngest, who hated swimming, take part in a swimming gala.
The same day we had to attend his new secondary school for a parents get together/bonding type of event.

He had a 'turn' at the swimming baths....it was awful....as though he was drunk...he slipped off the seating and went between two chairs, I was mortified and the attendants that helped me get him outside were a bit sarky ....'should take more water with it love'....one said as he dumped him on a wall outside! 'He hasn't been drinking!' I snapped back but I could see they didn't believe me. He recovered and hadn't a clue why were now outside and wanted to go back to watch the swimming ....'its over' I lied...I couldn't go back in there with all those people looking at us. We shared a picnic in the park and went on to the school. It was a humid sunny evening and the classrooms were hot and stuffy, noisy with eleven year old chatter and in the science lab there was a smell of sulphur.....and it happened again. I wished the earth would open up as he started a queer gutteral keening which soon turned into a roar and he slipped down the cupboard where he had been standing. Parents unashamedly gawped at the entertainment whilst Gary and I pulled him out of the room ....no one offered to help. We've never ever been to a social function at that school again.

I rang the Doctor, I created mayhem, I demanded, I think I threatened, I know I swore....a lot! An appointment with a neuro surgeon was arranged and off we went again on the round of CT scans, MRI scans at different hospitals, blood tests. His diagnosis....temporal lobe epilepsy... due to a small bleeding deep inside the brain. Almost two years after the GP had so emphatically ruled out any form of epilepsy...he changed GP's! The medication was started that day and worked immediately. They want to try to reduce it to see what is happening....no chance! Hissy Hissy fit....Youngest is into GCSE mode and we nearly had one lot ruined ..no way is another lot being jeopardised....it will have to wait! I said so!

Eventually he came home, the boys were more resilient than me I have to say. I still see that ethereal extra being in a lime green suit with black hairy hands and a forked tail at the dining table with us but at least he is well behaved....at the moment......but ....hang on a minute......who is that with him .....another shady being?

I knew from the outset that N had dyslexic problems and I was so proud when into his forties he decided to sort it out and join Second Chance. He found enormous satisfaction from this and was so pleased to be able to read a book from start to finish. I never knew of any autistic tendancies .....so why do some appear to be coming out of the woodwork now at 52? Inappropriate emotional behaviour, obsessive traits that were not there before but are definitely there now. The obvious discomfort of physical touch.....and many other little things.
What is going on now I wonder....is it related to the epilepsy....is it going to get worse....or better......how do we cope with it? I don't know.......have read a bit of what is available and can see the need for an adult diagnosis but to be truthful I don't think we can face it at the moment. Perhaps .....some time....

Well there you are Angel....you got my skelly out of the cupboard..well and truly....not for sympathy or pity, they are but fragile garments, but so as you know I really do understand.

Gosh lets have a look in this cupboard now ...get a duster round those nooks and crannies....its so nice to have an empty cupboard......hang on a min .....whats that at the bottom.....? Just a few torrid romances, a few lilac letters from Leicester and a photo of a gorgeous Irishman with a beard ......oh sod it where's the recycled romance box ...don't need these any more.......

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster? Part 2

Missed a bit out of yesterday ...what a clot!
When I went off to theatre to produce baby no.3 they had a good old furkle round under the bonnet so to speak and confirmed that I had in fact been expecting twins but had miscarried one of them in the early stages......then the tests made sense....Mother Nature had sorted me out....bless her!

Anyway on we go....all back together as a family, antidepressents keeping hubby on the straight and narrow..that should have been the end of it......but no.....a couple of years went by and he decided enough was enough and wanted to ditch the tablets. Back to GP for advice and help and over a slow period tablets were duly ditched. Great stuff back to normal! Dont make me laugh ..it was the lull before the storm!

Christmas 2000- that bit between Christmas Day and New Year where if turkey appears once more on the table there will be a mutiny! We were all there rabbiting on, wine was flowing and I think we had a couple of visitors as well...I just happened to glance at Hubby to find him staring into space mid forkful....very pale.........unresponsive.....sweat appearing on his forehead......'Oh-heck ...is this a stroke?'..... I wondered....but no sooner had I gone into panic mode he was asking me what the hell was I fussing about....panic over .....silly woman!

Forgot about it...tired, overworked etc etc......until two weeks later it happened again.....another week passed....here it was again .....then at night.....'Get to the Doctors!' I demanded. 'You will have to come as well because I dont know what I'm doing that is worrying you '
'OK we will both go to the Doctor then!' Off we went ...for yours truly to be made out to be stark staring blinking mad! Fine, I thought, its my imagination....get over it, stop worrying!
But started reading up on the symptoms I was seeing. Two weeks later back to the same Doctor...me...very smart arse..having read books...'Could this be temporal lobe epilepsy?' His actual reply went along the lines of a sarcastic ..who is the Doctor here? We did however get a referral to the hospital! Then it was tests for diabetes, blood pressure, heart problems, trapped nerves, .....ingroing toenail.....sorry I jest there a bit ...but you get the drift. X rays of X rays ...off to another hospital for a different type of scan, then a CT scan, a couple of MRI's! You name it he was tested for it.....all except epilepsy!

Gave up with the NHS went private....long journeys through Wales to specialist on blood sugar disorders that aren't diabetes. No change ...it still kept happening. Started to worry about driving.....Doctor took licence away! But couldn't put a diagnosis as to why! Well that put pay to the job of ten years which he loved....but no wheels... no job! Needless to say the depression came hurtling back with a vengence......back on the tablets but strong ones this time...it took two suicide attempts to change the tablets!

By this time we are into 2001 still without a diagnosis. Foot and Mouth appeared in February 2001 and we found ourselves in the nightmare of bonfires and men in white boiler suits calling regularly. I hated them with a passion! We had reduced our flock from about 250 down to 20 old favourites in 2000 because I could not cope now with N being unwell and him not working. We became Form D restricted ....destruction next stop.... in the April, and it lasted until the end of Foot and Mouth.

Meanwhile, unable to work any distance away, N resorted to local farm work and helping out friends. That was until one friend reported us to DHSS fraud for working and claiming benefits! Er....'scuse me.....we had never claimed any benefits! I was working and my well paid job took us out of benefit brackets! DHSS duly gave us a clean bill of health ....after they investigated of course... another little thing to worry about! That friend has eaten her last meal at my dining table I can tell you! Grrrrrrrrr!!

One May evening I was idly talking to a neighbour as dusk fell when I heard a strange noise like an animal screaming coming along the track towards me. I thought it was someone drunk and larking about until I realised it was middle son....pouring blood from his nose and mouth...no shoes or socks and completely hysterical. He was 15 at the time and had been at home revising Maths for a GCSE the next day. I simply couldn't believe what had happened and dialled 999 from neighbours phone.....ambulance and police please!

So there I was with middle son with suspected fractured cheekbone and nose in A and E the night before his maths GCSE and husband in a cell charged with assault...well it couldn't get much better really. The police came to the hospital....'he is very upset...are you sure you want to press charges?' ....You bet your life I do!

J took his exam, bless him....hubby remained incacerated but was produced at the magistrates at pleaded guilty to the assault ...of which he had no recollection! Now at last he was referred to a psychiatrist.....but I was out of it now.....he wasn't coming anywhere near us....and as soon as the exams were over and school had finished we disappeared.....to Pembrokeshire in a rented cottage to lick our wounds.

And we haven't even got to the diagnosis yet.............

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster?

I have been avidly reading Country Craft Angel's blogs and have flooded the keyboard...not so much with grief but with tears of frustration at the memories when epilepsy decided to call at this house and.....came to stay! There is still so much to understand about epilepsy and its various guises and yes...there is still a stigma....'friends' have gone, even some family members don't ask us round for supper any more...just in case. It took a consultant neurosurgeon to make any sense to me, the GP was, I'm sorry to say, an absolute waste of time and in fact wasted us the best part of 18 months before a proper diagnosis and medication was given. A very very traumatic 18 months it was too....

I can remember the day when my life started to change...slowly at first ..like the waltzers. it was the day Maggie Thatcher resigned....we listened on the radio at work. I was three months pregnant but had't told anybody at that stage...well it was my third and nine months can be an age...walking across the office I had a huge pain that took my breath away...Yikes! But as soon as it was there it had gone. Carried on as normal....college night straight after work...Legal Exec exams ....loved it. Still discussing Mrs T we went for our usual coffee at 8pm where I drank a black coffee and ..thank god...ate a crunchie! Toddled off to the loo before the second half and was horrified to find blood in my shoes......!!!!! Straight home as though the devil was on my tail...Doctor called.... 'it appears you have lost your baby....hospital tonight for a D&C'

Arrived at hospital..usual round of paperwork, examinations, questions......'when did you last have anything to eat or drink?' .....Here comes the crunchie and coffee answer.... 'Oh dear ...it will be tomorrow before you can go to theatre then....we might do a scan first instead.' Counselling offered for miscarriage....'No thanks...I'm OK!' ...Well I was!

Next morning...a Friday.... had to wait for hours for a scan, huge queue for theatre....Friday is elective Cesearean day. Off I went with a group of sad dejected mums to see what was going on inside the old uterus. What do they find.....a heartbeat! For crying out loud one minute I'm pregnant, then I'm not, then I am again..!!!!!!!! Gimme the counselling now pleaseeeee!

Back to normal ante natal at GP surgery on the Monday ....loadsatests.#'] Following Sunday morning cooking lunch....midwife arrives unannounced.......'I'm afraid your tests are throwing up alarm signals...Down's Syndrome!' Appointment with consultant Wednesday ....any questions...need to make decisions....etc etc! We are now living on Devastation Street!

Wednesday dawned probably straight through from Tuesday ...never noticed ....never slept. Hubby had started being supportive but had stopped.....'cant cope...wont cope' I had written a list of questions ready for Top Man! First shock....Top Man was brusque to the point of rude.....'Its YOUR decision......no I cant answer those questions!' I sat there gobsmacked ...then I walked out! I walked out of the hospital back to the car ....'Take me somewhere that isn't here and isn't home!'

We went to Oswestry Market and sat in the cafe and I ate a bacon butty and said ...'thats buggered it....can't go to theatre now!' Went all the way back to GP surgery where we had long and meaningful discussion with brill Dr. I decided to just carry on regardless of test results and refused others....hubby not in agreement but quiet. Life resumed its pattern ...not quite normal...but good enough. Carried on with college course and worked full time.

Exams due in June ...so was baby! Completed exams on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday....went into hospital Thursday and on the Friday....went to theatre..in a state of panic...big bouncing baby boy..perfectly fit and healthy! Hubby went to pieces completely....gibbering wreck...simply could not believe it....'scuse me but I thought post natal depression was for me?????

Apparently not....depression was here to stay....so were the moods, the anger, the smashed up furniture, the accusations, the tears, the recriminations....the lot! Well if this is what happens when things go right... After about two years of this I was shattered, the boys were showing the strain, there was no support from anywhere..my parents had both died, my closest friend was ill with bowel and liver cancer and his parents said it was all my fault! OK then....you have him back and see if you can sort it! I chucked him out....got injunction, informed police etc.

Meanwhile back at the ranch we got on with our lives, went on cheap camping holidays to the Welsh coast, never went out...couldn't afford it. Still gave support to hubby - went to counselling with him, mental health visits, ....I sort of knew that there was something 'mechanically' wrong rather than he just hated us... that would have been easier to cope with.

After two years he gradually came back ...odd weekends, holidays .... the medication was working, all was well........????????????

Sod the garden lets play grannies!

Well lets hope this little chap can teach his dad how to lighten up a bit.........see below

Toby 11 weeks old.....bless

mmmmm strange day.........

I suppose because it my first day back at home when no-one else is about....there's loads to do but am not motivated in the slightest!

Have paid monthly visit to GP for chat and sick note and he has given me the all clear to drive again which is lovely...will be going back to work on 27th June after next consultant appointment and the thrice weekly physio is finished. It will be strange going back after 5 months away but I am starting to 'want' to go back now... sure sign of being on the mend I suppose.

I work in a very surreal environment - that of the Court room where we deal with everything from murders, rapes and pillages to driving matters and even untidy land! I love my job, there is never a boring minute ....well .....better take out the expert's report on the inside of the ocassional washing machine in a trading standards case.....

Behind the scenes there is a wicked ....sick...awful sense of humour that if people heard us being so un PC we would probably be hung drawn and quatered... but that comes with a job that teeters on a knife edge for most of the time ...and where you have to be serious when wearing the black gown and white bib! Talking of which ... better get them out and washed and starched....... now for a quick giggle ......we either have a collarette bibby thing to wear or tabs that tie under a blouse collar. They get chucked in the boil wash, dry on the dining room radiator and starched solid under a hot iron.

One Saturday afternoon last year eldest son ...he that is too good for his own good and needs to lighten up a bit... arrived and came into conservatory absolutely hopping.....'what ever is the matter?' I asked .....hell he was really mad and I hadn't got a clue why! .....'.DISGUSTING.....a woman of your age.....thought you would know better....!!!!' on and on he ranted.....Well whatever it was I was getting the blame for ....I couldn't remember whether I had enjoyed it or not......
'WHAT ARE YOU TWITTING ON ABOUT?'.....I definitely spoke with raised voice!
'There.....on the radiator ....FANCY wearing a thong at your age.....DISGUSTING!'
It was my tabs from work drying on the radaitor .....I laughed so much I thought I was going to be ill! Poor boy.... he was most miffed!

How not to behave in hospital!

Gosh, haven't been in here for ages, quick whizz round with the old duster is called for I think! Flowers everywhere now. Quick peep out of the window at the clematis hanging off the summer house - its never looked so lovely. Any day the peonies will burst and the roses are budding up beautifully. I love this garden in June - it really is pretty.... anyway grab a corner of the squashy sofa ... yes you can tuck your feet up as well ... no ceremony here you know. Tea? Coffee? There's some Lady Grey somewhere... or shall we just throw caution to the wind and open the wine?

Well I did have a laugh when I was in hospital, needless to say we were very, very naughty! When I got there on the Monday morning, boots blacked, hair washed you know the look - there were no beds to be had and seventeen prospective patients were turned away. I sat there pondering what was going to happen while they rang my consultant....the answer came back ....'even if she sleeps under cardboard on the grass she has got to stay!' Fine - no probs - find me some cardboard and I'll knock myself up a shelter....anyway they decided that because I was classed as 'self caring' and didn't need my blood pressure doing every few hours I could stay in one of the cottages in the grounds normally used for relatives that have a long way to travel. Off I went to find my new home and very nice it was too. Very clean, very basic, very quiet. There are three bedrooms, a communal bathroom, kitchen and lounge. I met my house mate Sylvia straight away and we were soon nattering away...we soon found that we had at one time lived in the same village and had mutual friends. She was a very fit 73 year old lady who was there to assist her disabled daughter after an operation.

I spent the rest of the day being assessed, prodded and poked, measured and twisted into positions that I had not thought possible! As evening fell we met back at the cottage and after a good dose of Corrie decided to go for a walk. I didn't for one minute think we would go far and was only wearing flip flops but Sylvia had other ideas and we set off out of the hospital grounds at a brisk pace! Bearing in mind that neither of us were local to the area and had no idea where we were heading for.....we kept walking...and nattering....and walking!

We found our way into the centre of a village and passed a working man's club, a chip shop and lo and behold there was a choice of two pubs in front of us! Well ......in we went, as soon as we checked if either of us had any money ....we both had! It was one of those pubs that has not moved with the times and had remained a real male domain....did we care? Did we hell! Silence fell as we were inspected by a dozen pairs of eyes over the rims of pint glasses! It had been a hot sticky day so I plumped for cider as my drinking partner went on the lager! We found a seat and carried on nattering....with the odd comment, sotto voice, about our surroundings! Then we noticed the two gentlemen sitting nearest to us .....padded lumberjack shirts, rigger boots, Irish accents, positively plastered....got the picture? I murmered to Sylvia 'dont fancy yours much' and she went into a fit of the giggles.....she said, 'Just look at yours then!' ...at the other end of the bar was a dead ringer for popeye the sailor ...right down to the blue cap!

You know when you are in the wrong place at the wrong time and those awful giggles keep emerging.....well I thought I was going to burst! Then the Irish tried a spot of conversation..... hopeless really.... the accent overtook the drunken rambling and we hadn't a clue what they were on about .....'any minute now we'll be having a rendition of Danny Boy..' Sylvia murmered ...well into our second drink now! We carried on in our own sweet way ...taking no notice of the locals who were obviously wondering which funny farm we would be returning to.

Then it came time to leave.....Sylvia turns to me...'Can you run?' I sit there in gobsmaked amazement .....'Dont be daft I've got flip flops on and been drinking cider and I havent had an alcoholic drink since Christmas ... not a hope!'

'We will have to make a sharp turn round the pub in case those two follow us' she says as she puts her handbag on her shoulder.

'I dont think they are capable of following us anyway!'

Out we go with cheery goodbyes all round to the most miserable looking band of men I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!

'Now...RUN!' shrieks my 73 year old drinking partner and takes off round the corner as though she has been doing sprint training for the next Olympics! I follow flipping and flopping ..but doing my best... but I get a fit of the giggles as well!

Guess what - we are lost! Because we tore round the pub we have come out in a different road... great! We navigate by the distant view of the hospital chimney and end up crossing some college grounds, 'If anybody asks - we'll tell 'em we're lost ...hic' says Sylvia, We hadn't got a clue and by now it is pitch dark!

I have never been so pleased to see the hospital lights! We fell into our cottage in sheer hysteria...and then put the kettle on and gossiped well into the night!

Next morning when I reported for a session of physical jerks...my head was hammering fit to burst! I confessed to the physio who went into gales of laughter.. and threatened to have me confined to barracks......'please do'... I said, 'please do!'