slow lane life 3

slow lane life 3

Friday, 20 January 2017

January is speeding by. It's been eventful.

We met friends for lunch at an old pub just off the M5, as they were travelling from the North East to Cornwall for a holiday. After a lovely couple of hours of catching up, we went our separate ways, and The Gardener and I carried on to the nearest John Lewis (almost two hours' drive from where we live! Oh, the deprivation I have suffered as a result!) to look at tumble dryers. 

We were clearly in an irresponsible mood, for we spurned the sensible dryers and ordered a television instead. And a good sound system to go with it. The Gardener hates tv, and usually falls asleep in seconds, making him a less than companionable viewer, but he does have a huge library of music and also relies on YouTube for more, so we justified the mad expenditure by telling ourselves we would use the new system "for everything". Hmmm. 

1958 model
This is all my doing. When I went up to Glasgow to stay with my sister, we had seen a 2-part documentary about a Scottish island, and I had rediscovered the pleasures of television when a programme is worth watching. I came home and badgered The Gardener to rethink our tv-free home.

By choice, we have not had a television for about five years. And now we do; our sitting room will need to be rearranged to accommodate it. After the clever, sleek, unnervingly large object was delivered, and we set it up, we remembered why we had consigned our old temperamental telly to the loft - television programmes are mostly dire, and the news is even worse when delivered with pictures than it is on the radio. 

So, fearing that we might have made an impulsive, expensive error, but rather thrilled with the picture quality, we have dug out our old DVDs and CDs, and are learning the language of apps and Netflix instead of the heat pump condenser dryer that had been our original aim. The new telly sits awkwardly on a cupboard for now, cables trailing everywhere: with our thick stone walls, and the horrors of drilling into them, we hang nothing up until we are certain that it will be in its right place for a long time. And we keep forgetting to use it....

But life hasn't all been consumerism gone mad. 

Before: bright-eyed and enjoying a box of bubble-wrap
Lovely Lottie, "my" cat (i.e. the one who is most obviously attached to me) suddenly sickened, stopped eating, lost weight that she couldn't afford to lose, already being a tiny bony scrap under all her fur, kept falling off her perch, and had to be taken to the vet. Three injections later, she came home again, but did not improve, so back we went.

She was kept in overnight for observation and blood tests - I hadn't been prepared for this, and found myself on the verge of tears after handing her over. Having taken her as a rescue eight years ago, aged about 18 months, half-starved and desperate to be loved, I have a very special place in my heart for Lottie, who despite her apparent frailty, rules the others with an iron paw, and is mistress of the Death Stare when displeased.

I suspected some sort of middle ear complaint, having watched her over-careful walk, like someone who was trying hard to disguise the fact that they were slightly drunk, and the toppling off the arm of the sofa every time she fell asleep.  But being kept in a cage for observation perhaps prevented this becoming obvious, although I'm sorry now that I wasn't more questioning when I handed her over. 

The tests all came back as normal; Lottie came home, stalking round the house, inspecting all areas in a careful but dignified manner, with her devoted followers Millie and Scooter trailing about after her rather pathetically; they had missed her. 

"She's back! She's back!"
And slowly, over the next three days, she got better.  Now she is enjoying being the pampered convalescent, having small but frequent extra meals, and sleeping without falling over. My fright and fear of loss have receded.

Then I had to go back to the North East for the funeral of a dear friend's mother. Despite the sad occasion, it was lovely to meet up with most of my old friends again; this was the first time I had returned since I moved to Somerset more than five years ago, although I have had visits from them all in that time. 

For them, it was the first time they had seen me since I grew out my hair colour and turned Gracefully Grey. Or - more accurately - just Grey.... Surprisingly, it was well-received, and we talked about needing to rethink one's (clothing) colours to suit the new hair. Rethink my tatty old dog-walking clothes? Radical. The experimental tiny pink streak that I'd had put in a couple of weeks ago had washed out, but I'm considering making this a regular/variable feature. That or a lilac rinse - remember those? Only kidding.  

Perhaps less Dame Edna
but a touch of Helen Mirren?
Sadly, no such glamorous comparisons could be made. My brief 24-hour stay coincided with a streamingly awful cold; I dreaded getting on each flight so obviously marked as the woman who would pass the obligatory airline cold on to every other passenger. 

I spent my visit apologising for the germs; brave friends hugged me while instructing me as they did so not to breathe on them. During the service, I found that hymns are a reasonable cover for coughing and blowing. If I hadn't felt so ill, I would have yearned to stay up North for longer and catch up with everyone, but I was glad to get home to The Gardener and my own bed, to spend the day (and half the night - this is being written at 3 a.m.) in my dressing gown, honking, blowing and sipping pineapple juice for the tickly cough.

Next month, Baby E, who is just starting to walk, and his mother are coming to visit, as much for the clean air as for the chance to be spoiled rotten. London is worryingly polluted, and Baby E has constant colds and coughs. His Grandma had better be well by then, ready to fly the flag for Somerset's healthy environment.


  1. I hope you recover very quickly.

    1. Thank you; being ill at home somehow feels more bearable!

  2. I think Dame Edna's "do" only works with those glasses.

    1. Well, perhaps I could extend my adventurousness......

  3. Sorry Lottie was poorly's a real worry when they are ill and have no sounds like an inner ear infection might've been a good guess...hope she carries on getting better. Our Darwin is very slight and tends to fall off things but I'm afraid it's because she's frail and elderly (18 soon)but still adventurous...if the kittens sit on the fish tank so can I! say no more. Hope the dreadful cold is defeated soon and you're feeling much better xx

  4. Hope you are feeling better by now. Lovely to see the cats again and good that Lottie is recovering. My cat is nearly 18, and has been a skinny little thing under his long tabby fur for several years now. He is quite frail, but eats well, and apparently his heart is strong. He was always a bit" inelegant" , as I think his back legs are too long for the rest of him, and he looks even more so now as he is quite wobbly at times. I remember that you had a Yorkie for a time. Was it your Mother's? We have one part time......she belongs to an elderly lady ( 87) who just has her for a few hours in the day, and lives with us the rest of the time. She is very sweet, but very yappy!! She gets on well with my schnauzer and the cat. More posts about the animals would be good. xx

  5. Poor little Lottie. It's horrible when they are not well. Hope you are feeling better, too.
    Now, this probably says more about me than you, but you've not had a TV for 5 years???

  6. Glasgow in the '50s was smog laden , too , and I'd always develop a sepulchral cough after Christmas . So I'd spend most of Spring and Summer coughing over my Irish granny instead .
    Your grandson will have lovely memories .

  7. I hope you're enjoying your grandson by now and feelIng much better. I've been gray a long time, and I think my hair becomes me. I still mostly wear black or gray - so easy to mix and match when traveling. My personality is kind of quirky and colorful though!

  8. Hello again! For some reason the transfer of your new name to bloglovin did not work so I assumed your were having a break. Not so. At least I have taken some consolation from catching up and finding you still here and finding hope and comfort in these (literal and metaphorical) grey days. Fingers crossed that you are well again and all else is well too, near and far.