Marley - Soppy Sloppy Doge de Bordeaux

Andy is my hard-working son-in-law, devoted husband to my daughter Clare.  Marley is one of the family pets. A six-year old Doge de Bordeaux with a lovely nature - who just loves to play, especially with Andy.

I love this sloppy-chops dog.  He is so joyously welcoming. Each time I approach the large gate he stands upright, front paws on the top of the gate, wagging his tail so hard I fear it might fly off!

As I enter the gate he shoots away to bring his 'tug-o-war' rope loop with fixed ball.  He so enjoys this game where I try to wrench this plaything from his iron-grip jaws.  I think he would play this simple game for as long as I could muster the strength - and I'd never win.

My daughter has other pets: a chameleon; a bearded dragon lizard; a fair-sized snake; a chinchilla; a tankfull of colourful fishes and a goodly supply of live locusts (to feed the lizards).

The two children also have their own lizard pets. 

I never know what new exotic creature might suddenly appear in this menagerie, but NOTHING would surprise me now.

Oh For the Wings of a Dove ...

Or any other bird ...

We took a drive on Sunday to a place near Lincoln: Wickenby Airfield. This used to be a WWII RAF bomber station but is now a privately owned airfield. It was a gloriously sunny day and there were quite a few small aircraft and microlights enjoying the freedom of the skies.

We parked the car (free) and headed for the old control tower, which is now a small café and, up a small staircase, a museum of RAF and aviation relics.

Pat had a delicious fresh-brewed coffee and I had a good cup of black tea. It was a delightful, if a bit shabby, environment. Reminded me of a small NAAFI but with no uniformed Brylcreem Boys having chips with everything meals.

I nipped upstairs to view the museum room: some really great uniforms of long gone pilots, books containing names of all the RAF types who were once stationed here and other interesting items. I spent about fifteen minutes in this old room, which was quite small, and exceedingly nostalgic.

Rejoined Pat in the "NAAFI" area and met some wonderfully interesting chaps there. One was waiting for his 15-year-old-son to touch down from his flying lesson. This lad is hoping to get his private pilot's licence (PPL) in the months to come and, eventually, join the RAF. His dad is paying for all this, and it's not cheap!

I mentioned to this guy that my first trip in a biplane was in 1947 at RAF Kenley, which was on a Sunday, and courtesy of the ATC, to which I belonged in those days. It was only a short 'flip' around the airfield at Kenley but so exciting.

He said he was in the ATC and dearly wanted to join the RAF, but failed the eyesight tests and was rejected. I can understand why he wants his lad to succeed in his mission. Good luck to them both; I sincerely hope everything goes tickety-boo in the months and years to come.

An even more interesting chat was with two middle-aged men who were about to leave the NAAFI-Café. I collared them as they were about to open the door - asking the taller of the two if he was ex-RAF. "No, I'm a lawyer" he said. "We've just flown in from Ipswich, about twenty minutes ago!" I was impressed, and exceedingly envious.

"That's our plane, over there..." he said, pointing to a smart mono-plane about twenty yards away. "We built it ourselves, from a kit we bought in the USA. Took us three years. Our wives restricted us to three days a week on the project! Otherwise we'd have finished it somewhat quicker." I was now immensely interested and doubly impressed.

"Where is the fuel tank?" I asked. 

 

"Oh, in the wings; holds enough fuel for over six hours flying."

"Have you been far in it?" I enquired (interrogated might be a better word!).

"Well, the Arctic was one interesting voyage" he said. He also mentioned a couple of other far-flung countries, including Africa. "We had to stop half-way to Africa; needed to pee you see..."

Honestly, I could have spent a day or two chatting to these two guys. They too seemed happy to talk about their wonderful hobby but said they had to see somebody in Norfolk in twenty minutes or so and they had to (literally) fly!

Had to say cheerio to them as I followed them outside and walked to within a few yards of their aircraft. They hopped in the side-by-side cockpit, and the engine started perfectly. They taxied away and soon climbed smoothly into the bright sunny skies. Soon they'd be having a cuppa in Norfolk - in less than half-an-hour!!!!!

What a simply wonderful way to spend one's free time. Zooming into the blue yonder. Hopping from one city to another. Free as a bird.

I can think of NOTHING better. Perfick, as The Darling Buds of May would say.

Must close. Bit of a flap on. Chocks away, bandits at twelve o'clock high.

 

Wizard prang. Over and out!

My Daughter, Brain Tumour, The Brainstrust

My beautiful and talented daughter, Clare, is managing extremely well - after a traumatic year or more of peaks and troughs in her battle with a brain tumour and the onset of epilepsy.

She was helped in no small measure by a wonderful lady, Helen, who created the charity Brainstrust.

This organisation has but one aim in life: to help and comfort all those who have been diagnosed with such tumours. 

Clare is now trying to give something to Brainstrust and has organised a raffle for one of her unique Fairytasia sculptures. 

Clare aims to raise at least £250 via £2 raffle tickets.  Once the £250 target has been achieved Clare will draw the raffle and the winner will receive the sculpture.

Donations (raffle tickets), via the charitable "Just Giving" website,  is Clare's preferred way of handling this as it is a dedicated,  trusted and straightforward way of operating this undertaking.

Clare's sculptures have sold for over £500 in recent years and £250 is a fair average for this particular creation.

Please have a look at this link: http://www.justgiving.com/Fairytasia and anything you can do to help Clare to help Brainstrust will be greatly appreciated.

Daughter Clare & Her *Gremlin*

Haven't been posting anything for some time now but decided to give a brief update on my lovely daughter's situation.

She is due to have another MRI scan in about three weeks from now. She has had a second opinion from a London brain surgeon who has confirmed that her tumour of the pineal gland is not suitable for surgery. I'm quite content with that opinion and I think Clare is too. The tumour is deep in the centre of her brain and the risk is far to great for surgery.

The neurologists will keep a careful watch on what is going on via scans. Hopefully these scans will be re-assuring.

Clare's epilepsy is a problem in that the initial drug (Keppra) did not suit her because of the side-effects and she is now on a different drug and seems to be OK-ish with the new medication.

Clare continues to remain very strong and positive. She cannot, of course, drive her car any more - nor can she do any of her wonderful sculptures. She will, we are sure, resume her work one day.

We are so very proud of her. We love her so much.

Beloved Daughter & Her 'Gremlin'

What seems like ages ago, (though in fact fairly recently), my lovely young daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumour. Grade 1 tumour of the pineal gland. Smack bang in the centre of the brain!

She sees a neurosurgeon at the specialist hospital in Hull on Monday 28 March. Another MRI scan, this time with the addition of a contrast dye, will be taken. Then the surgeon's course of action will be decided on.

My 'Gremlin Girl' has started a blog - the first time she's joined the Blogosphere and you can pop in and read it HERE

I went for a walk through the deep snow yesterday to hand deliver a 26th wedding anniversary card to Lord and Lady Haddington. Took me a good while and the walk, in Wellington boots, was quite exhausting. It was a real effort to drag the back foot out of the snow to take the next step forward.
Having reached the west wing and popping the card into the letterbox I took a much longer 'roundabout' way back, via the west drive (which had been snow-ploughed) and a fair walk back on the roadway to the east gates, a few yards from my cottage.
I had a really strong cup of Assam tea soon after I'd stumbled into the back door. Oh what a welcome and reviving beverage that was!
My successor at Mellerstain, Angus, had a head-on crash whilst he was taking two of the cleaners back home on Monday. They were all taken to hospital for a check up. I am so happy to say that they were all returned safely to their homes with just some nasty bruises and well shaken up. Black ice was the culprit; treacherous stuff. Angus's car is a write-off but insurance will cover that loss; no significant injuries is the main blessing in this event, an event that is probably being replayed by many others in this awful cold spell.

Wintry Weather Continues in the Borders.

Just a swift update on our early wintry conditions.
No letup in sight for a few days more, worse luck!
We had one of our local farmers clear the little lane running along the 11 cottages in our remote village. Looks as though we will need further such help soon as it is snowing heavily right now.
Never mind; I'm sure global warming will soon return!

Long time, no show. Blame the snow!
We're locked inside our remote area as the roads are VERY dodgy.
Hopefully it will not be too long before we are released from this white prison.
And we've had another 8 or 9 inches overnight, so worse today.

Fun Guy ... Sort of

On my way to get some victuals and stuff from Tesco's in Galashiels I took a short ride through the grounds of Mellerstain and spotted some interesting-looking fungi.

One can often find a variety of such stuff growing all over the estate. When I lived in the east wing of the house here we had a group come every year, usually about September/October, on what they called a 'fungi foray'. I used to collect some mushrooms, which I knew were perfectly safe to eat, and very tasty they were too.

Brief Update

Hello again. It's been one of those months: my wife, Pat, had a second hip replacement and I'm now not only chief cook, bottlewasher, sweeper-upper etc., but full-time nurse and carer. It's now two weeks since her right hip replacement op and the next few weeks will be difficult, to put it mildly.

The only son and heir of Lord Haddington, Lord George Binning, finished uni at Glasgow and had a terrible accident about five weeks ago. He fell 50 ft from a bridge onto concrete and ended up in Glasgow Infirmary; luckily not the mortuary! Some serious injuries but so happy to report that he is now recovering in the west wing of Mellerstain.

His dear Dad, the Earl, has also had some very disturbing diagnoses about a couple of health problems and is in London today, seeking advice from a specialist. I do not want to say more than this at present and we are all keeping fingers crossed for some good news soon.

Another member of the peerage, the Duke of Roxburgh who lives in Floors Castle, Kelso, about 8 miles down the road, is being treated for throat cancer. He is only in his fifties, so the news is that the prognosis is good, so I understand.

The recent passing of our friend and blogger, Barry, was also terribly sad. He put up a gallant and persistent struggle and remained hopeful throughout his long and courageous battle. We shall miss his beautiful posts.

Things can get better with time and I'm sure my next posting will be more upbeat. Take care my friends and always put your best foot forward. That's what I keep telling my Pat! She's almost a bionic woman now!

Art Exhibition Mellerstain July 10th 2010

This morning my wife, Pat, and I were invited to the annual art exhibition in the basement corridors of Mellerstain House. Quite a decent crowd accepted the invitation and, as usual, it was an enjoyable hour or so. Glass of vino, nibbles and so forth, and meeting up with some faces we've not seen for a year or more!

I took a few sneaky video shots and in the first few seconds, if you're quick, you will see me, in the large hall mirror, surreptiously videoing! Pat can also be seen pointing to one of the artworks and, a few seconds later, you can spot her looking at a painting on the left wall. And finally, in the last few seconds, you'll see a shot of the old Adam bathroom. Water for this 'facility' came from a spring under the front steps to the house.

Pat has to go to Borders General Hospital this Monday for pre-admission checks prior to her admission on 26th July for a new right hip! The operation, more than four hours duration, due to be performed on 27th July. So, a bit of a scary time ahead but hopefully it will make life a good deal easier for Pat once it's all over and done with.

Pheasant Snoozing

It's just gone 11 a.m. today, Friday 18th June 2010. Looking out of the sitting room window I can spot a long feather pointing upwards under the old Ash tree. I investigate: it's one of those dozy pheasants, having a sleep on the pile of grass cuttings I pile up after mowing. These birds, though quite handsome, are so stupid. We slaughter many of them as they decide to run across the road just as cars are speeding towards them. Sometimes they seem to wait for a car or lorry to come charging down the narrow country lane and then they play 'chicken'. Many of them never make it to the other side of the road, unfortunately. Anyway, these birds are always foraging around our gardens. Sometimes they'll take a fancy to some of the plants that may be growing, or they'll just scratch around for seeds and stuff. I took this video to show just a sample of Ferdy the Pheasant having a nap on a pile of grass clippings. Exciting, innit!

"Sam" on the 86 bus to Edinburgh

A visit to the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh today was brightened when I met sad-eyed Sam, the mixed breed dog on the No. 86 bus from Dalkeith to Edinburgh. I sat opposite to Sam and his mature male owner and simply had to say "Hello" to them both.

Sam has the most appealing face. His eyes, however, seemed just a little sad to me. I gently and carefully stroked his head; he seemed to appreciate the attention. His eyes now appeared to smile at me. He was such a lovely bus passenger.

Sam has this sort of 'ragamuffin' look about him. His coat is dark gray or even black in parts but generously mingled with silvery gray strands. Handsome in an understated way, in my view.

His owner told me that he'd obtained Sam from a rescue centre after his own 13-year old dog had died of a tumour about six months ago. Sam had been subjected to much abuse and beatings by his former keeper(s) and was a very nervous animal at first. A few months ago he would, according to his owner, have probably thought I was going to hit him and he might have reacted by snapping at my hand. But now he was so well behaved, quiet, gentle and obviously glad to be with a decent new owner.

What sort of sick individual could be cruel to such an appealing animal like Sam, or to any animal? It certainly makes me feel angry to think of anybody ill-treating any animals. I'd label them "Scum" - but that would be an insult to scum!

Anyway, thank you Sam for making an otherwise dreary bus journey a lot brighter for a short while. (Sorry about the racket of the bus engine!)

The Absent-minded Circuit Judge

In the UK, as in other places I guess, we have a system whereby judges travel around the country to hear court cases. They are well-paid and well looked after in their work.

This particular judge had to travel from London to a county court some many miles away. He was chauffeured to court along with his trusty clerk.

Arriving at the county court he settled into his chambers and suddenly realised he had completely forgotten to bring with him the main 'brief' of the case he was about to try.

He called his clerk and said: "I've forgotten the brief! What the devil can I do?"

"Fax it up Sir." said his clerk.

"Yes, it does rather ..." muttered the judge.

The Innocence of Youngsters

This is something I received in one of those emails from somebody who cobbles together some interesting (to me) bits and bobs from wherever they find them. I hope the following extracts make you smile.

Charity shop bookshops are always an enormous source of pleasure and enjoyment for me and I guess I probably spend (at least) 77p a week on them.

One I picked up this week called 'The Facts of Love' had me laughing so much I nearly fell off my chair.

Full of pictures and statements from children on the subject of love, it is unadulterated pleasure.

Here are a few of my favourites:

To have a baby you have to make love to someone who doesn't mind. Marianne. Aged 9

If you don't want babies you should practice contradiction. Lynne, aged 9.

I nearly know how to have babies but we dont do it till next term. Frances, aged 7.

Jesus was born with a yellow frill round his head like his mother. Jeffrey, aged 5.

I don't know how a baby gets there and I think Id rather be serprized. Claire, aged 8.

If you put a man and a woman in a bed together one of them will have a baby. Paul, aged 6

Have a lovely day!

The Sort of Stroke Flossie did NOT Want!

One of my neighbours, Louise, went to Canada and New Zealand over a year ago to work as a volunteer on organic farms. Her lovely Border Collie, Flossie, was taken care of by another neighbour, Alice. Alice still looks after Flossie as Louise is not returning to Mellerstain. Very recently poor Flossie suffered a stroke. She was quite poorly. Today I went to see her and was really happy to find that she has recovered remarkably well. Dear Flossie is quite old, around 13 years. That's around 100 or so in human terms I think. Alice and I went for a short walk with Flossie and you can see in this video how well Flossie is right now. I hope she continues to stay as sprightly as possible but I think she does not have too long left to enjoy the freedom of Mellerstain. A lovely animal. We love her very dearly.


I hope to have quite a few more gentle walks with Flossie and to give her the kind of gentle strokes she enjoys.

A Much Happier Day Today

Bright and cheery day today, Sunday 2nd May 2010. Good news about my ballroom dance teacher, Patricia Stinton, who is back in her own home today. The doctors at Mayday hospital said she could go home yesterday but will need outside help for the next few weeks whilst she recovers fully from her recent injury. I still worry about her though.

She is such an independent-minded lady and insists she will be perfectly OK on her own ... but at nigh on eighty? With a hip still on the mend from a fracture? Hmm ... Still, I shall be keeping in touch daily via the telephone. She also has one of the necklace alarm gadgets which will alert somebody locally should she have another fall.

Sunny and cheerful weather today. Really makes one a lot happier. Hope you are all doing well.

Not a Happy Day

Today I am feeling very sad. A telephone message on my answer-phone to say that a person I've known since 1951 is in hospital in Croydon. Patricia Teare, as she was then, has broken her hip and is in pain and distress - and now she is all alone.

Her husband died of cancer in December,just before their 41st wedding anniversary.

Patricia was my first and only ballroom dancing tutor. She was around 20 years old when I first met her at Jimmy Quinn's Dance School in Purley, Surrey. She was a superb dancer and marvellous teacher of the art. I've always held her in my heart and memory and her distressed phone call to me earlier today was devastating.

Even at her advanced age she continued to teach ballroom, and to have an accident such as a broken hip will almost certainly be the end of ballroom dancing for her.

I've just arranged for some flowers by post to be delivered to her and I've called on some others who know me to pay Patricia a visit, in my behalf. I cannot get down to Croydon now as my wife, Pat, needs me at home to look after her now.

Below is a photo of Patricia with her senior dance partner, Jimmy Quinn, whom I also knew well. Poor Jimmy died a year or so after the photo was taken; brain tumour.

I'm going to write to Patricia every day whilst she is in hospital. It's the least I can do. Bye for now...

Lara Fabian - Emotion Personified

I discovered this beautiful singer, Lara Fabian, some months ago. She is now living in Canada (lucky country). I think she has also had a baby some while back.

But what a voice. What an artist. Huge vocal range and her whole being is thrust into her song - especially in this one: Je suis malade. Such a sad yet powerfully emotive song. I hope you can bear to listen to her; I find it heart-rending.

GOSH for Children

Today I've seen one of the most heart-rending documentaries ever.

Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children is renowned for its work in saving the lives of young children. This programme tonight, the first in series of three, is called 'Pushing the Boundaries' - and it is extremely difficult to watch. But having started to watch it is impossible NOT to watch.

The surgeons in this dedicated hospital are super-human. I cannot believe how they can carry on working under such pressure, from the parents and from the job itself.

Every age group in children is included. From a 2-day old baby upwards. Some marvellous successes. Some terrible heartbreaking failures too.

One very young girl had a serious vascular problem which would certainly be fatal unless operated on had eight hours on the operating table. The operation to fix her vascular problem was successful. However, her parents were devastated to learn that one of her kidneys had to be removed. Also that she was now brain damaged. And that she was blind as a result of the surgery! But she would live. Later, some weeks later, her sight returned, so it was not all doom and gloom.

A really harrowing case of a 9 year old lad who'd had a heart valve operation a few years ago was again seriously ill. The surgeons decided that a further valve repair was no longer an option. The heart specialists discussed the option of a heart transplant. With the parents and the little boy present.

They explained to the boy that they knew he did not want to have another operation but that he would be very ill if nothing was done. So would he like to have a new heart and be completely better.

"Will it hurt me when you cut my body open?" he asked. "No, it will be painless; you will not feel a thing."

"Where will you get my new heart from?" he asked. Very gently the surgeon explained that it would be given by somebody who had no more need of the heart because they had died from something else. "Well, what will happen to my heart when you take it out?" he continued to ask. Again the specialists explained that parts of his old heart could be used to help somebody else.

Eventually everything was agreed and the transplant went ahead. Two weeks later the young boy died.

The way these doctors deal with these harrowing cases astounds me. They are clearly deeply concerned for the children and parents concerned but they have to make such demanding decisions. I have great respect and admiration for them all, but I could never be strong enough to attempt a tenth of what they do.

Amazing and highly emotional stuff.