Oldddudders

Blue Velvet - Bobby Vinton

The farrier was due today. So I set off the 2 km to the horses, fed them, tied them up in approved Deb fashion by attaching the lead-rope to string on the fence, and most unusually, set to washing Varian's bottom. Sadly, once Bronte had finished her nosh, she snapped the string holding her lead-rope to the fence and set off across the field at a gallop. The whole idea of the string is that it snaps, rather than the horse's neck. Yes, really, if they panic. Fortunately, Laurent the farrier then appeared. Once Bronte saw us taking Varian out of the paddock, she came running and allowed Laurent to catch her. We tied them up and he set to work, while I pulled a zillion burrs out of Varian's tail. Trust me, when a horse passes wind you know about it when standing at that end. Crikey. And soon after the tail was lifted for something more major, so I stood well clear. Sherry is keeping an eye on Brittany Ferries' website in view of current strike actions. She is due to sail from Caen tonight. I expect to travel on 13th April, but if Alison is hors de combat I may need to be here for her, or at least the ungrateful brats. Hmm.

Morning all Sherry's last morning here for this visit, sadly. I shall miss her very much this time, which is kinda nice. Yesterday Sherry drove us about 140 miles, taking kids to and from skool, and then to see mum Alison in hospital. I don't think she got even one word of thanks from the youngsters, aged 7, 10 and 12. And the youngest has a dreadful cough. We are off shortly to do the morning skool run. As examples of home education, which they were until the parental break-up a couple of years ago, they make a great case for skool! Alison, by contrast, has texted her gratitude, of course. Alison has her test this morning, injected dye being monitored to identify pinch points around the heart. Fingers crossed it's something trivial. While she has always been overweight, she has never been a smoker, and certainly exercises daily. She feels the staff are on her side, more than for the smokers elsewhere in the cardiac ward. Off on the skool run in a few minutes.

Backstabbers - O'Jays

Some fairy tales take a little longer to come true. Alison is still in dock, in a cardio room to herself, with large monitors alongside, and pads and cables here and there. Apparently, after an event, the heart generates an enzyme which cardiologists use as a bit of a tell-tale. Sadly Alison has distinct traces of this, and so on Thursday afternoon she will have some sort of test. I was shown an information video of this but only vaguely got it. Not my sort of thing, really. By some margin. Graphics of heart problems are less than appetising, thanks, however eminent the presenter. Among the 947 other stresses in her life, Alison fears that if the ex realises she's had a heart event, he will claim she is not fit to look after their offspring, and simply keep them in Wales. Few mothers would relish that as a nightmare. Sheesh. Tomorrow Sherry and I will deliver the youngest boys to skool, and collect them 3 hours later. All being well we will take them to Le Mans to see mummy during the afternoon, when they have their half-day.

To her consternation, an apparently-recovering Alison found she was to be transferred to Le Mans, where the Centre Hospitalier is well-equipped compared with her local place at La Ferté Bernard. She was sedated, has had blood tests and a scan which appeared to show nothing untoward. But is still awaiting clearance for take-off via Sherry's taxi! If not today, she says it may be Thursday, which will be tough on her bambini. We dropped in to see them with bread supplies, and sensed they were all being rather brave. Fingers crossed - and thanks for all the generous comments about our good-neighbourliness. I guarantee you would all do the same. It's called being civilised.

There is something very 2016 about a patient in A&E texting while awaiting a specialist to arrive from Le Mans, but so it is this morning. Alison is bored and very thirsty, being nil by mouth right now. Feels much better. Is wired up, apparently. Has texted both the skools to explain that the boys will not be in, too. At least I don't have to contact the vile ex to tell him the kids are all his now. But I do have strict instructions about contacting the French amour! Sherry and I got a couple of hours more sleep, so will be somewhat zombified today. Hope your working week sets sail in a more dignified fashion!

Fortunately there is a volunteer worker staying there. Gio is Dutch, mid-20s, not the brightest but solid. He's been there a couple of months now. But he has no money, can't drive. Has not been encouraged to cook! And despite doing a daily online course, seems to speak very little French. Until we have a diagnosis from the medics we're unable to see forward, but if it's not good Alison's world will come tumbling down. At 51, and rather overweight, with an awful lot of stress, she is a bit of a candidate for ticker trouble, really. Let's hope it's all much simpler and sweeter!

Tea in bed. Our night was disturbed when the phone rang at 00.45. It was Alison, saying that she thought she was having a heart attack. I recommended ringing 15, the emergency number. I got dressed and drove over to her place, about 15' away. She was very distressed and frightened, as you might be with dreadful chest pains. The ambulance got a bit lost in the labyrinth of lanes, so I drove off to meet them. They ran some tests, put her in the wagon, took her off. I am the contact point. If she is seriously ill the implications are huge. She has three youngish kids, the oldest 12, and an estranged partner, currently living in Wales. He'd like nothing better than to take the kids, and is due to pick them up on Saturday for his statutory week with them. In the meantime, Sherry and I may find ourselves doing shopping, even cooking, for the boys, pro tem. We were back in bed by 2, but cannot sleep yet. Who knows what will happen next?

chasing the ghosts of Gable and Flynn

Morning all from a soggy, blowy Sarthe. Gusts to 60 mph were forecast, but they didn't really disturb us. However, although I haven't really taken stock outside, I noticed that the up-and-over garage door has blown open. There will be some water in there. Friends Richard and Anita have posted on Facebook a picture of several trees blocking their minor road, so today could be a challenge for some. Hope the Bonk Holiday behaves well for you.

Your 2205 post refuses to accept adulation. RMweb is unable to award any, it says. Worse. It hath now disappeared. Come back, Richard (nearly) all is forgiven!

ISTR being in the ROH the night of her 90th birthday. No evidence of improper or lewd behaviour on that occasion.

Please Don't Eat The Daisies - Doris Day

Even we managed roast lamb today. Not exactly agnus dei, but it's kinda nice to eat meat that was conceivved, reared and culled witin sight of chez nous. Thanks to the freezer, Sheena's lamb having been butchered a couple of years ago. Sherry managed to hear some of an Easter service courtesy of Radio 4. I think a little drowsing may be on the cards shortly.

No easier research than buying books! Irwell Press have a series called Mainline To The West, which covers sections of the line between Blazingsmoke and Exeter. I suspect these might answer some of your questions.

Morning all After weeks of calm, dry weather, things are taking a turn for the seasonal. We had thunder last night, and violent rainstorms. Today it is forecast to be breezy, but overnight we will have winds up to 60 mph. I think I may have heard thunder again just now. Sorry to note Jock is suffering new discomforts, but still manages to post things here. Remarkable fortitude. I hope the change of clocks hasn't left you lacking sleep.

In the heady (headlong?) days of Rail Privatisation, my client and I would once every month be on a train that stopped at Market Harborough. Stephen would say "Ah - God's own country!" as he had been born there. He now lives at Titchmarsh, which isn't all that far away. Sherry tells me her parents lived at MH at the end of the war. I think that was the Hitler war.

Pacific Coast Highway - Jeff Lorber

Not a definitive answer, but we know that Southern Region began painting coaches green from 1956. By that time, Maunsell coaches were getting a bit elderly, were less used on key services, and so would not have been first in the queue. Many had only a few years of service left, with completion of Kent Coast Electrification in the very early '60s substantially reducing the loco-hauled service requirement on SR. I think the S suffix appeared in the early '50s, so certainly most blood and custard coaches would have received it. After all, as said before, re-varnishing of Southern Railway malachite meant some coaches were only actually repainted well after Nationalisation, and a minority never saw B&C at all.

Only if you have issues with peeing, Kenton! I read many years ago that 70% of men have a problem with their prostate at some time, and no doubt this high % is due to so many of us living longer because we lead healthier lives. The other 30% may continue to bask in their good fortune.

We Live Here - Pat Metheny

Can I make a minor contribution, not on the subject of cancer, but to reassure men that prostate problems may be just that - not cancerous. My intention is to take some of the fear out of having that gland examined, and to state that simple surgical procedures can make life a lot nicer, without taking away from a man's natural pleasures in life. I had been showing symptoms of prostate issues over some dozen years - inability to pee properly, and frequent and urgent loo visits therefore becoming increasingly common. I had a biennial scan from 2008, and this, combined with PSA readings, showed cancer was not a factor. But early last year things got beyond a joke, and a urologist was consulted. He had me in dock in a few days, and in an op lasting about an hour reduced the size of the prostate, making bladder things work rather better. Suffice to say that I did not have an operation scar afterwards, and was in hospital for only a few days. The anesthetic was local, and at no time did I suffer any pain, before, during or after the op. The timing of the op postponed my intended marriage, to RMwebber Ashcombe, but importantly the surgery has not impaired our ability to enjoy the usual activities, although I would be unlikely to father children. In our 60s this is not a problem! David's tale seems to have a happy ending, but my point is so might yours, if you have issues with urinating, but fear the worst. Get your prostate checked and you might be delighted with the outcome, even if, like me minor remedial work is called for.

It's A Nano-World - Spacer

3/4G? Works just as well - if you have a signal!