where art collides philosoperontap

Classic British rainy day here in the shire. This I like. It’s ok when you are in a nice warm house looking out at the rain beating against the window. It is not horizontal driving rain which has its own, different, attraction. Just steady rain with a bit of wind to move it away from the vertical. The metoffice gives it two drops with greater than or equal to ninety five percent precipitation all day. They need a bit more confidence in their predictions. If they looked out of my window they would I’m sure be comfortable with upping it to 100%. You could still use an umbrella in this rain but were it horizontal and driving then I put it to you that an umbrella is not much use and you would be better staying at home than popping out to the shops. Waitrose delivers.

THG and I went shopping together in Waitrose yesterday. This a v rare occurrence. She pushed the trolley and did the scanning whilst I selected a few choice items for consumption over the next few days. Mostly my lunch. Anyway my point is that Waitrose is a far more pleasant shopping experience than the Tesco down the road. I like to have a bit of banter with the girl on the deli counter who is from South Wales and used to be a chef. Tesco doesn’t have a deli counter anymore. Also Tesco has a v poor selection of bacon and sausages. I normally buy such items from Fosters butchers but on occasion do bung em in the trolley when in Waitrose. I can push the trolley meself btw but THG wanted to help so I acquiesced.

I did not listen to the shipping forecast last night. This is likely to be the biggest non news you have heard today but it is better than having to hear all about war, famine and Donald. Donnie. I bet his wife calls him President, assuming she ever talks to him. I shudder when I think about Don. He is a worry.

A road sweeping vehicle is working its way down the other side of Wragby Road. It’s that time of year. I suppose it just stays in the shed the rest of the year.

Up at eight this morning. This isn’t news, particularly. Sometimes I get up a lot earlier, sometimes a little later though not much. Usually what triggers it “is thought for the day” coming on the wireless which is usually on at around twelve minutes to the hour so eight is comparatively late, but only a bit 🙂 None of it matters. It is a Thursday. Time moves on. Time to move on.

Breakfast this morning is a bacon sandwich made with one piece of bacon because that’s all we have in the fridge. Don’t worry there is more in the freezer. Phew eh? I sometimes buy a wodge of bacon and divvy it up into two slice portions for the freezer. Easy enough to dig out when needed and no need to defrost really.

Not thought as far as lunch yet but THG and I do have an arrangement to meet aged friend Phillip in the Waitrose caff at eleven so might have a stroll around the aisles and see what I can pick up fresh from the market innit. Not knowing what I’m having for lunch isn’t a big deal really. It’s called not planning ahead. Living life on the edge. 

I tend to plan holidays well in advance. Next August we are off to France for 2 ½ weeks. I’ve booked the ferry crossings and one week long stay in a farmhouse somewhere but nothing else as yet. Ordinarily I’d get this nailed soon but I’m half tempted to not book anywhere and see what happens when we just rock up on the day. Needs a bit of thought. If it’s peak season that might be easier said than done. I booked the farm over a year ahead as good places tend to sell out early and we have specific family size needs.

Thursdays are the most relaxed of weekdays in our house. No weight lifting classes booked etc. I didn’t walk to Tesco yesterday but I might do that today instead.

On the hip front I sense that having got over the first two weeks things are definitely starting to move ahead. Sleeping still not good due to the lying on the back thing but there is general progress. Won’t be long till I’m back walking properly.

No fox news, front or back. Wonder where it’s got to for fox sake?

…

Action packed day. Had my socks and stockings put on at around nine thirty, as you do, and left for Waitrose at ten fifteen. I’ve just discovered they now sell Carlos 1 Spanish brandy. One of my faves. I actually prefer Spanish brandy to the French variety. Well ok if you want to spend a lorra dosh then a Hennessy XO and its ilk are v nice but the Spanish stuff gets very good at much lower price points. V mellow, man. Forgot to get beer in for the weekend though. THG is off there tomorrow so she can top up the stocks.

Then had an appointment with the dentist. Ostensibly just to repair a small chunk of filling that had come out. When I got there he removed a big chunk of filling and took an xray. Soz Tref he says. If it was me I’d be looking at an implant. Hmm. Parked the decis  until February. Let’s get Christmas out of the way first.

Anyway this is a long way of getting to saying that I’m home now and back in the shed and can’t really be bothered to do anything. Any suggestions?

Fishing gnome Brian has packed away his rod and gone big game fishing in the Caribbean for the winter season. Says he does it every year. Didn’t know. Alright for some.

Makes a lorra sense to me. No brainer really if you can do it. The kingfisher has also departed. Feels as if the fish levels in the lake must have dropped off. Where do kingfishers go for winter? South? Dunno.

Anyway I’ve taken the opportunity to have the rescue boat taken out of the water and moved to its winter shelter away from the elements. It will now undergo a maintenance programme designed to keep it in good nick for next season. Not much point having a rescue boat if the engine conks out on you mid rescue. 

Was listening to the shipping forecast this morning, as you do, when the subject of automatic lighthouses entered my mind. It specifically came during the inshore forecast section. The Sandettie light vessel automatic for example but there are others. The point is whether lighthouses that aren’t specifically mentioned as being automatic are actually automated or not. They must be, surelement. The next name that came up after that thought was Jersey. I wondered if there was a keeper of the Jersey light. A good sounding title.

Well “no, the lighthouse in Jersey, specifically the La Corbière lighthouse, does not have a resident, full-time keeper anymore. The lighthouse became fully automated in 1976, eliminating the need for keepers to man the station continuously, says google. 

The lighthouse is now maintained by Ports of Jersey and looked after by part-time attendants, sometimes referred to as “guardians”, who perform routine maintenance tasks like polishing brass and oiling hinges for the automatic light system. Dave Turner, one such long-serving guardian, retired in 2015 after 25 years in the role. Apaz. Wonder if he got a gold clock or similar when he finished. Model lighthouse maybs.

The former keepers’ cottages at the base of the causeway are still owned by the States of Jersey, and at least one former keeper has been known to still live in them.”

If I was such a “guardian”, and it would probably be a nice retirement job, I’d still want to be called the keeper of the Jersey light. It would really be my only reason for wanting the role. I’d probably subcontract the brass polishing to someone better suited to that activity.

Mind you I would want to be able to set my own hours. No good relying just on me. I’d need to be able to shoot off for weekends or even a few weeks at a time. Perhaps just give me the honorary title and just ask me to turn up on special occasions where a little pressing of the flesh might be required. The occasional speech of welcome perhaps outlining the history of the Jersey light and its importance to seafarers. Would need to get it in the diary well in advance. A year makes sense.

No overnight fox action around the lake although Reynard was spotted trotting briskly out of the front drive at 04:08. He didn’t come down the side of the house so must have come directly through next door’s front fence/railings.

Breakfast was three (small) slices of seeded sourdough toast and half a grapefruit. Had to remove my specs to eat the latter. HipHop2 + 12.

Here’s a question for you. What is Father Christmas‘ first name? Can’t believe I’m the first person to have asked this.

Now some of you will say hang on a minute Tref, it’s not even December yet and you’ve mentioned the C word. Well I am with you all the way and other than arranging things that have to be planned well in advance I don’t think about Christmas until December. This year is a little different in that I’m off to London on 27th Nov for the annual CCUK (ITSPA as was) Xmas lunch. They couldn’t get a venue in December, apaz. The significance of the lunch is that traditionally they held it the same day as trefbash as they knew there would be a load of people in town for that. I could never make the CCUK gig as I didn’t want to rock up for trefbash already three sheets to the wind.

Anyway, notwithstanding the above, the question remains. FC must have a first name. You’re not telling me his parents called him Father. How confusing would that have been. Unworkable.

I did once float the idea that if everyone had the same name you’d never have the problem of not remembering someone’s name when introducing someone to them. Simples really, and obvious. Of course there would be some debate about which name this would be: Dave, Andy, Bob etc, Methuselah even and I’d be making a case for Tref obvs but these are mere details. You have to think big picture. I didn’t do anything with that idea at the time and really I’ve moved on. It was using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. Actually more a thermonuclear weapon. This would have not only completely destroyed that nut, rendering it totally inedible, but probably vapourised the table on which the nut stood. The table in this case is our entire naming culture built up over thousands of years. It would be a lot easier to develop a memory technique for remembering names.

In Wales in the eighteenth century you come across some people with the family name Christmas, and some, the famous Welsh baptist preacher Christmas Evans for example. Whether Christmas was the first name or surname doesn’t really matter. If it was a surname the name probably stemmed from the days of the patronymic system and in this case might have been Reginald ap (son of) Christmas which at some stage would have become Reginald Christmas.

I’m not suggesting for one minute that Father Christmas is a Reginald and although you could probably get odds on it from a bookmaker it would likely be an outside chance. Who knows? Ordinarily I’d say don’t bet on it to win but where Father Christmas’ first name is concerned it is winner takes all. Even if he has multiple first names in the same way that mine is Huw Trefor. If there was money involved you’d need to have identified all first names.

Balls I’ve just blown it and googled for the answer. It’s Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas Christmas. Google said it so it must be so. Bit odd giving your kid the name Saint but there is no telling with people. At least the spelling is uncontroversial. Don’t suppose old SN was ever a naughty boy. Goes with the name territory innit. Oh he’s such a love. Keeps his room tidy and always offers to do the washing up.

All this points to a certain degree of abnormality where FC (SNC) is concerned but yanow, we already knew that. How otherwise could you get down so many chimneys, eat so many mince pie and drink so much brandy and still be a functioning sleigh driver and parcel deliverer. I really don’t know why he doesn’t subcontract the whole delivery activity to DPD. Don’t have to tell the kids. He could then stop in on Christmas Eve or nip to the pub early doors and get home in time to watch Eastenders at twenty to eight. You can bet your bottom dollar it will be a belter.

Right. Movin on. No fox news to report. No game activity whatsoever at the lake. No squirrels, hedgehogs, roaming herds of deer and no giraffes. Nowt, niet, zilcho.

THG is just off out for a run. Her 95th Park Run. I’m taking it easy and will treat meself to a sausage and a couple of bits of bacon with accompanying sides. Maybe even an egg. Seehowitgoze.

Tis a beeotiful morning for a run. Also a good time to get some leaves bagged up and ready for when the new compost bins are in place which won’t be until 2026. Today I will mostly be watching rugby. Shed door will be open if anyone wants to drop by. I have some beer but it took me almost three hours to drink two bottles last weekend. Worra lightweight.

And finally, had a good session with Claire the physio yesterday afternoon. Things are progressing well. Need to keep doing the same exercises for another couple of weeks and then move on to the new set she gave me. Same as last time really. Need also to step up the walking a bit (geddit). I mentioned that I stopped the physio sessions after four or five of them and didn’t need the total of nine that the insurance company was willing to stump up for. She said she saw some NHS referrals who got three sessions with her. Within the NHS it would have just been the one. Something wrong somewhere big time. 

Gonna try supplementing paracetamol with ibuprofen to keep on top of the soreness. It isn’t unbearable by any means but I note that this is what I did at the same stage last time. My sleep was also crappy that time around and I listened to the shipping forecast a lot. I’m a bit bored with it now and have moved on to podcasts.

No fox action to report today. No wildlife at all. The lake cam just had one recording at 1am but couldn’t see anything and in fact it was v fuzzy, as if a spider had woven its web over the lens. Not sure it could have been this though as the cam would have recorded the spider movement in building the web. Looking and listening to some of the other cameras suggests it was chucking it down around that time so it may just have been atrocious weather. I’ll check later.

Busyish day ahead. Conf call at ten. Gosh. Not an onerous one. None of them are onerous. Then physio at one thirty. Thassit. 

To the shed at nine nineteen. Sat down, at which point a ginger tomcat strode purposefully along the path between the lake and the deck. Didn’t get my phone out in time for a pick and then remembered the lake cam. Just the blurriness of earlier so I went out to inspect. Lots of condensation all over the cam including each lens and sensor surface. A simple remedy. Pulled out a microfibre cloth I’d brought along for the purpose and gave the cam a wipe over. Instant results as you will see from the before and after shots. No sign of the tomcat which would ordinarily have been captured by the cam so I think we have to write off any sightings that might have occurred overnight. Norrabiggie.

We clearly had a lot of rain as the rescue boat is hull down in the water, straining at its mooring. The only thing keeping her from sinking is the line used to tie her up and her inbuilt anti-sinking tech construction, ie light plastic. Will need to bale her out at some point but this is something I might ask THG to help with as I can’t bend down that low at the moment. THG is out right now at weight training classes. Irrlweight

Noticed btw that at HipHop2 + 10 the hip does tend to get a bit sore. I checked this same day after HipHop1 and saw that I said I’d taken some ibuprofen as well as paracetamol due to the soreness. This does help me realise that things will get better. I can’t complain as I  haven’t had to resort to the strong pain killers/morphine I have as a backup. Just have to be patient.

During my static hours of leisure I’ve started looking at shirts. My god the selection you have at mainstream clothing outlets is bland in the extreme. I googled buy “cool design mens shirt”. The only shirts I like the look of came from dodgy sites that brought up red warning signs on trustpilot or are made out of polyester. This is work in progress.

You do have to ask yourself what it is about blokes that means they only wear bland design clothes. Trouble is I’m sure that there are more interesting designs out there if you are willing to spend a ridiculous amount of cash. Remember you are talking to someone who traditionally buys his clothes in clearance sales or when travelling to lower cost parts of the world where you can get made to measure clothes for next to nothing. Problems problems eh?

Bathroom scales are the new toaster. We need a new set of bathroom scales. Not sure why they are in the plural here. It isn’t as if we are adding weights to one side to balance out the item/person being weighed. Clinging to tradition. No problemo. Why are the scales the new toaster? Well it took me a long time to decide which toaster to buy and in the end I went with the one that had been my initial gut feel, the long slot Dualit.

So now our bathroom scales are officially kaput we need a new one/ones (?). The problem right now is I have no idea which ones to buy and no initial gut feel to run with. I’ve never looked at the genre. So I looked.

Yanow the problem? Omg there is so much complication in the bathroom scales market. They don’t just tell you how much you weigh anymore. Want to know your BMI? We got you covered. This is great because it is such a faff having to mentally work it out every time I step on some scales. We can also do you body fat percentage, body water percentage, muscle mass and bone mass. Want Bluetooth integration? Sure, we’ve got an app. I already have visions of meself turning into a honed athlete, thanks to the bathroom scales. I’ll have to choose which wearable I want to integrate. I gave my fitbit to our daughter Hannah so she can use it in the run up to the Seville half marathon in January. All sounds v complicated to me.

I think we want some bathroom scales that tell you how much you weigh, accurately. Our old, now non-functioning, ones which I believe may have been sourced from John Lewis, always showed you as being a little heavier than those at the doctors, even with clothes on (shorts and tshirt). On the basis that the doc must have a good set and they showed me being lighter than the ones at home I always went with their number although my visits to the surgery are not particularly frequent and I therefore have to be happy to wait for the news. Doesn’t really matter about the accuracy as long as they show you the right trajectory. Up, down or stay the same.

You will be kept posted on progress natch but if anyone has any suggestions regarding known good scales feel free to bung em across.

…

Today is HipHop2 +8. The significant milestones are +14, where the dressing and sutures are removed, +28 where I ditch one crutch and am allowed to put my full weight on the repaired leg, and +42 where I cast off the remaining crutch and run out into the street shouting “it’s a miracle, I can walk”. +42 also represents the time when my sleep will start to improve as up until then I have to stay on my back. Not good.

+42 is too far away to stay motivated so I have to focus on smaller steps. I am six days away from having the stitches out which, from my diary entry of the same stage the last time, was a big step forward in terms of comfort. Don’t think there is any soreness so hopefully this dressing removal should be a formality in the same way it was last time.

Went for a wander. More because it’s a nice autumnal day out and a bit of fresh air does you good. Don’t think I’m really at the long distance stage (100 yards plus each way) yet. Not comfortable enough for that and there is no rush. All in good time. Made it to the tree in front of next door’s drive and just past the pedestrian crossing. Pathetic really but I’m ok with it. For some reason it made me think I need a haircut. Should have gone before the hiphop really. It’ll wait. I wore my green tweed pea jacket again which is coming into its own. Had it made at North’s gentlemen’s outfitters in Belfast a few years ago. 

I’ve done all my exercises for the day. May do them again a bit later. They aren’t particularly strenuous but I do feel improvement in the strength of the glutes. We have to remember that in giving me a new hip the surgeon sliced down the middle of my left glute (I assume) so that needs to heal. Didn’t really do any research on all this medical/technical stuff as I’m somewhat squeamish. No tendons severed which has to be good.

I’m a bit of a WW2 history fan. Band of Brothers and all that, although I think I’ve now done that series to death, so to speak. My point is this recovery process from HipHop2 feels like recovering from a war wound. Obviously it is completely different but some of the wounded troops would discharge themselves from hospital before the docs thought they were really ready in order to get back to their mates and the action. Just wondering in my own mind where they would have been in that recovery process compared with little old me and my hip. Funny what you think about innit.

Plenty of Reynard action last night. Separate visits at midnight and at quarter to one in the morning. First time I’ve seen him drink from the lake. Unless he was looking to see if there were any fish on offer. Brian will tell you that time of day is very quiet on the piscine front. Then a lone deer mosied by at seven minutes to two. I dread the day when they both arrive at the same time.

During my waking hours last night I clicked on a Berry Brothers & Rudd ad for Penfold’s Australian wine. I drink their wine so figured there was no harm in checking out what they had to offer. Came across a schoolboy error. “Page not found – We’re terribly sorry but we could not find that page.” Someone in their marketing team needs a bit more training on how to setup online ads. They spent good money on me clicking on that link. Wasted money. Not my problem. Just sayin’.

Decided to see what was on offer on Radio 4 in the wee small hours. At 00:45, just before the shipping forecast, which wasn’t quite ready to listen to again as it had just finished was Bells on Sunday. On this occasion it was three minutes playing the bells of the church of St Mary Easebourne, West Sussex. I assume that was a typo. I guess there could be an Easebourne dunno whether it is to the west or east of the other place. Wouldn’t have worked had it been Weasebourne. Anyway, it sounded to me like a Jumble of Bells. Then came the shipping forecast but without the “Sailing By” music beforehand which is a shame because I like that tune, Had to put up with the dirge that is God Save The King at the end of it.

Interesting how the shipping forecast has become a thing. An unpredicted spin off from the butterfly effect. Same applies to all weather related programming I guess.

05:22. I think I’m awake. This is mostly because I went to bed at 18:30 last night because THG was off out on the lash and was happier knowing I was safely tucked up for the night. I didn’t mind but I did wake up a lot in the night. None of it is good sleep. I say out on the lash but really she went to see Lindisfarne in concert at The Drill with her cousin Helen. Would have gone meself. Hey there will be another time, maybs. They are getting on. We first saw them in Croydon in 1986 when we first started “courting”. Gosh.

Last night’s fox action was at 22:09 btw. He seemed to be just using our garden for transit purposes and didn’t hang around for a sniff. Sfine.

0h eight fifty and I’m showered, dressed and ready for the day. Feasted on THGs very fine granola with Greek yo and hand picked wild berries (that was specifically for @marij s benefit).

In other news just booking a trip to the Isle of Man. We will not have been for a year, largely due to Hannah & George’s wedding consuming much of our thought bandwidth over the summer. I suspect we will remedy this for next year. Two or three visits a year is about right for IoM. If you weren’t aware I grew up there and our parents are buried on the hillside looking down on the thirteenth tee at Peel Golf Club. A fitting place to spend eternity. The twelfth hole just beyond the tee is the location of one of the few eagles of my youth. It was a 2 under par 2 on a par four. Three wood and pitching wedge. I remember it like yesterday.

When I pressed “book now” or “confirm booking” or whatever it was I got a message saying thanks a lot – we will now just check to see if the cottage really is available. Great that innit. Now we have to wait. This problem is caused when property owners use multiple sites to rent out their place. Not good enough really. We once booked an airbnb for a couple of nights near my sister Ann’s only to be told the week before that sorry they had double booked it and the other booking, which was for a week, got there first. That was a load of bollocks. I gave a v poor review which tbh was deserved. You couldn’t trust that owner whatever the truth of the matter. I think we had to scramble and book into a pub or hotel or somewhere. Can’t remember now.

Today is HipHop2 +6. I note that on HipHop1 +5 I walked past the pedestrian crossing to the tree in front of next door’s drive. Yesterday was the equivalent day for HipHop2 and I already made it to the bus stop which is a cricket pitch or so further. Today is not particularly nice out but I feel I should push on. I’ll keep you posted.

…

Turned right out of the drive this morning. Ring the changes eh? Walked a lot further than the bus stop equivalent. I’m guessing four cricket pitches, maybe even five. Remember I did five in total yesterday. 

Stopped and turned around at number 136 which is still boarded over and in need of restoration. At least one of the front windows is open so goodness knows what wildlife is making its home there. Wore my green tweed pea jacket and a warm woollen beanie for the jaunt/shuffle. Since I’ve lost a bit of weight, that jacket is now a great fit. Quite loose even. Gratifying.

Shortly after I got home THG returned from shops and gym and is now making a brew. Good on her.

More in due course.

It has been reported that our bathroom scales are on the blink. I replaced the battery yesterday after the LED had been showing ERR. Today THG says it was suggesting she weighed 20 stone. Must have been on a 2x setting, at least. Anyway, ever loving me said I’d buy her a new one for Christmas. A good one. One that tells you what you want to hear. If it doesn’t exist I’ve just invented it 🙂

In other news there is something going on at the Walkers crisps factory in Lincoln that may concern you. One of my sources of distraction is the new tab function in chrome on the phone. It offers you links to lots of news items it thinks may be of interest. There are occasions when it does come up trumps but often the links are to crappy media sites who are more interested in clickbaiting than anything of real interest. 

This morning’s clickbait was a Yahoo article about Walkers discontinuing one of its spicy crisp brands after 50 years. I clicked. I can report that ”the much-loved Smith’s Spicy Tomato Snaps are no more, after manufacturers decided to pull the plug on the Lincoln-made snack earlier this month.” The hyphens are Yahoo’s not mine. Probably AI.

Well this news left me in a very slight state of passing confusion. I’d never heard of Smith’s Spicy Tomato Snaps. They can’t have been that much loved. Also I wasn’t aware that the Smith’s brand, a staple of my childhood, was even still going. Maybe this is its last gasp. Crunch time for Smith’s. Am I left salt ‘n shaken about this news (if you know you know and you probably need to be over fifty)? Nope. Figured it was worth sharing though.

Yesterday afternoon I watched the rugby in the shed. Over the course of three hours I managed something like two bottles of beer. Felt quite squiffy. Very full. A glass of primitivo with some pasta finished me off and I retired upstairs at half time in the Liverpool game. I was content that they didn’t need me watching to finish the job. Put Aston Villa to the sword. The imps lost though. FA Cup away against lower division opposition. Went to penalties. Giant killers.

So this Sabbath morning I have a relaxing time planned. I shall mostly be sitting in my chair in the window of the snug. I might read something. Do some ritin. Family tree research. Maybe even chat to the kids, if they are awake. THG will be out doing her devotions. It is a lovely autumnal morning for a walk. Maybe, just maybe the pedestrian crossing beckons and who knows, perhaps the bus stop although history suggests that may be a step too far for a first sortie. Reality is that the outdoor walking began yesterday with three separate walks to the shed so I may be ready for the bus stop. Will the bus stop be ready for me 🙂 

The memory foam cushion seems to be making a difference. No sore backside to report. Good stuff. Otherwise not really much to report.

…

In an effort to get up off my arse and do something I slipped on my deck shoes and went for a walk. Out through the front door, up to the entrance of the drive and left along the pavement towards the pedestrian crossing. Lots of leaves covering both pavement and grassy verge but people’s footsteps had cleared a path along the pavement which is the path I followed. Took me no time whatsoever to reach the pedestrian crossing although we have to remember my speed is “dead slow” shuffling as I do to keep 50% of my weight off the new hip. At the crossing a woman with a Tesco bag caught me up, pressed the button and crossed anyway as there were no cars in sight. A bit annoying if the next car along had to stop at the red light with the woman already over and away. Hey.

I steadily plodded on past the tree in front of next door’s drive and on to the bus stop whereupon I was overtaken by a woman with an orangey brown woolly hat, leggings covered with skulls and a bag slung over her shoulder who uttered a cheery hello as she blew past me. I of course cheerily replied, touched the bus stop with a crutch and turned for home. I was by this time a good three cricket pitches away from the house. It’ll do for the first adventure I thought. The hip was growing tired but as much as anything it is the tediously slow walking that stops me from going further at this stage.

Home now and back in my window seat, cheeks healthily aglow. THG reckons my recovery progress is faster this time around. She may be right.

I checked the lake cam but no fox news. No herds of deer either. Just squirrel. A cat visited the front drive in the wee small hours but that really holds no interest. Unless it was a tiger which it wasn’t.

I must pop down for a chat with Brian at some stage. Trouble is those kinds of conversations are best done from a chair on the deck. Brian isn’t one for moving from his fishing spot. His philosophy is if you have a good place to fish don’t give it up. Possession is nine tenths of the law. He has a point. He always seems to have a fish at the end of his line.

Sitting on the deck ain’t a thing right now. Partly because it ain’t sitting on the deck weather but also because the deck is slippery and the available seating is too low for me right now. When I watched the rugby in the shed yesterday I piled three coffee sack cushions onto the armchair to give me enough height off the ground. Ended up with legs dangling so it was bit higher than the physio actually specified but better too high than too low and me not being able to get up. Got another physio session a week on Friday.

I’m quite looking forward to spring and summer in front of the lake. One of life’s luxuries. A remote log cabin or shed with great vistas from the deck. The shed is pretty much self contained with a fridge for lemonades. If anyone wants to swing by and pay a visit they are very welcome. Check first as it would be a shame to make that journey only to find that I’ve gone off hunting for the day, or to watch the cricket.

Yay it’s a Saturday. Yay. Actually it’s 04:35 on a Saturday. Hmm. Ah well. What is time anyway? Picked up my device in bed to do stuff and realised I look at very few sites nowadays. FB, BBC and Guardian. The beeb is mostly for the sport.

For something to do I just removed a few apps from my homescreen. Don’t need the NHS covid travel pass and only use eurostar once or twice a year. Doesn’t warrant giving it space on the front page. The Gett taxi app very rarely gets used. At some stage I should go through all my apps and uninstall those I never use. Trouble is there are a few pub apps in there for ordering to table that can be handy. Uninstalling them might mean having to reinstall at some point. Not a biggie I suppose especially if I’ve not been in for a year or two as will mostly be the case.

Now listening to the world service. If this was during the day I wouldn’t listen to this stuff. Content for content’s sake. “some people really love coriander”. Just heard that line. I’ll turn it off.

Picked up the fox on the external greenhouse cam at 5:23am. Just as I was looking at the app. Quite cool to see him live. The lake cam footage will have to wait. That’s a less sophisticated system. Lake cam footage now available.

Thought for the day was all about light. Started with seasonal light disorder and then deteriorated into biblical quotes. Twas only then I realised it was thought for the day. All about bringing light into people’s lives. Ok. My device, which was playing the Today Programme on Radio 4 was in the pocket of my dressing gown and, walking along with my crutches, it was inconvenient to reach for the phone and turn it off. I don’t listen to thought for the day. It is usually pretty dull monotone delivery stuff. Prayer for the cay can be not too bad but that is usually on before we have the wireless switched on. Had to endure it to the end on this occasion but have now switched off the stream. I have the quiet, calm company of THG to enjoy.

As I was lying in bed, creaking it occurred to me that in February of this year I went through the hip replacement process on the right leg and spent a lot of time writing about it, largely out of there being not much else for me to do. So now it is possible to look back on this same stage of the recovery and see how I was getting on then. The day of the op was 11th Feb cf 28th October this time. If the op was Day 0 then we are at Day 4 now which would have been 15th Feb for op1. I’ve left a link in the comments section if you are interested in comparing the two experiences. Seems to be the thing to do, apaz.

My posts from February do describe progress, eg how far I could bend my leg, so it is something I can look back at to inform me as to when I can expect things to improve this time around

Last time I had the op I took a pic of the xray of the new hip. They wouldn’t let me do it this time citing GPDR. GPDR?!?! It’s my bloody hip. Apaz I have to ask the consultant which will be 6 weeks after the day of the op.

BREAKING NEWS

The mountjac deer are back. Mother and baby. An audacious daylight visit at 07:08am this morning.