gone fishin'

bye bye baby

my beloved muninn goes home to her breeders on sunday. they will rehome her. i am heartbroken but it is my
decision. i made a mistake, i underestimated the difference the passing years had made to my physical
strength. i also underestimated the size muninn would reach and the sheer energy and muscle power of a young
bullie of her size.

we have been together three months now and over that time i have gradually come to the understanding
that i was not the best person for muninn to live with and that i... would possibly expire before my
alloted time ... from pure exhaustion.

so, i have been dealing with misery and guilt and the need to make a decision.

i was forced to make a decision when ms muni slipped her leash, escaped the back garden through an
open door into the offices. accompanied by the panic stricken trills of the office workers,
she was about to dash out of the front door and into the outside world, with absolutely nothing
between one over excited young bullie and the notorious a77. luckily my friend j grabbed hold of her.
she has her own bullie and understands that they are not as scary as they look!
i felt such fear, i thought my heart would seize!

it was decision time, no more impossible plans to find a house with a garden in my price range ... ha,
bloody ha ... as if that was ever more than a dream!
so i contacted her breeders, who of course have first refusal. they understood my dilemma and will meet
me on sunday, halfway between london and ballantrae. saves me a REALLY long drive and i am most grateful.
i trust them completely and i know they will take their time and find a wonderful new home for my girl. in
the meantime she will be home with her doggy family and the human children she so adores.

so, at the moment, i have a huge lump in my throat at the thought of her leaving. a small dose of guilt
as i feel i should have woken up and smelled the coffee ... before i brought her home.
at the same time, i feel almost a sense of relief, as week by week it was becoming harder for me to cope!

bye bye baby ...

and then there were midges

and the heat rose, and the green, green grass grew tall and
luscious, and the wind blew no more.

and the people of the village brought forth their folding
chairs, their barbecues and their tanning lotion.

and mother nature watched and she was well pleased.
and on the tenth day she brought forth the scottish midges!

aye, village people, though you may have relaxed all
summer long, enjoying beer in the long evening light,
sipping chilled white wine from long stemmed glasses,
chatting with friends and neighbours as the smoke of a
multitude of barbecues rises and fades. things are about
to change

yay verily, though you may plough and plant, shear and milk
and bake the most delicious strawberry and cream tarts.

yay verily, though you may stride my lands and tend my assets
and believe you hold dominion over all my creatures.

yay verily, though you may burn your citronella candles to
the gods of itch.

i have brought forth scottish midges to remind you,
people of the village.to remind you that these insignificant
winged creatures, so small, so silent, so many ...
will cause you to flee the great outdoors ...
slapping and squealing, itching and scratching.

so i say unto you, return to your steaming hot homes,
reconnect with your televisions. venture ye not forth,
until mother nature feels such pity for these poor mortals.
and she causes the winds to rise and the scottish midges
to flee to where ever it may be that scottish midges flee.

the following information is for educational purposes only. the author of this blog denies any responsibility for any ennui experienced by the reader.



The Scottish or Highland Midge, in it’s own right, probably explains why a country as beautiful as Scotland only has a population of some 5 million people. The Highland midge has a notorious reputation for spoiling folks enjoyment of the great outdoors during the summer months.

There are actually a large number of different types of midges in Scotland but Culicoides Impunctatus the Highland or Scottish midge, which is a tiny insect, enjoys a reputation as being the fiercest biting midge.

It reeks havoc across vast tracts of Scotland from May to September. Their nuisance value to the camper, walker, angler etc. is so great that many holiday makers and tourists have been known to pack up and leave within an hour of being attacked. The Scottish Midge is especially prevalent on the West Coast where in the right weather conditions and at certain times, in the early morning or late evening, it becomes impossible to stay outdoors for more than a few seconds.

Some Midge Facts

*
The Scottish midge has a wingspan of 1.4 mm.
*
A swarm of midges can deliver approximately 3000 bites an hour.
*
A female will feed on the skin for up to 4 minutes taking 0.1 microlitres of blood.
*
A female midge can probably detect you from a range of up to 100 metres.
*
It is estimated that in the Highlands midge populations can reach densities of 10,000,000 midges per acre in ideal conditions.
*
Midges have probably only been in Scotland for about 8000 years.

'she'

the heat has gone, the mist has rolled down from the hilltops
and cradles the village in an embrace of almost invisibility.

my (oh so green... not!)ground source heating system is feeling
bitchy. i will call her 'she' as only the female could be as
difficult and cantankerous as 'she'!
'she' has decided that heating the water above 28 degrees
(centigrade)is unnecessary. needless to say, i disagree!
i even went so far as to read the very thick instruction book,
desperation can make me do crazy things ...
i delved deep into the psyche of 'she', i studied her bodily
parts, i touched, i caressed ... 'she' was totally unimpressed
by my attentions!

ja, no, well fine as we would say back in the good old RSA!
that was yesterday, the mist rolled back, the sun came out
and today is definitely beer drinking weather. however, 'she'
is still not playing nicely.

with some extra attention i managed to persuade 'her' to heat
up to 32 degrees. the difference between 28 and 32 degrees...
when it comes to standing in a shower at either of these
temperatures ... there is no friggin' appreciable difference!
the water is too damn cold!!

i was unable to put in a complaint yesterday as i was up in
saltcoats. liam had an appointment in glasgow with his
neurologist and i was seconded to take care of child collection
and after school tending for the other four ;-)

today having taken a very quick shower i was off to inform my
landlady of the dire straights afoot. hmmm ...
she says she will arrange for an appropriate technician to call
but reminded me that the firm that services 'her' is in some far
flung scottish town, hah!
i remarked sweetly, with perhaps just the tiniest hint of sarcasm
in my voice ...

"no rush belinda, i am more than happy to take cold showers in
an attempt to toughen up my body for my cruise of the fjords."
what's the bet i am still showering cold tomorrow!

the naked garden

my blog friend mike s from maine sent me this some days ago. just too good not to share. thanks mike!




Lawns & God

GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the USA? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colours by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colourful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it, sometimes twice a week.



GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?

ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.

GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.



GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.



GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.



GOD: And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

ST. CATHERINE: Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about ...

GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

fancy foot work

today i revisited my orthopaedic consultant. the mri shows
no problems other than the still broken second metatarsal
on the left foot.

i have a choice ... do nothing.

my foot has been broken for the past year and for the last
four months or so ... well,
i have learned to live with it, the swelling has almost
completely gone and as long as i tread warily, i am
experiencing very little pain.

so, do nothing, or ...

have an op, which would involve taking bone from
the pelvic area and making a bone dowel to join
the two ends together ... a dowel joint! heh!



having endured more than my fair share of hospitalization,
my first reaction was ... say what! do nothing please,
thank you!

but then again...
with my foot as it is, my life style is kind of limited.
i can't run or exercise vigorously. driving the car
makes my foot ache.when i get cramp or stretch my foot
in my sleep ..well...
pain tends to wake one, even from the deepest sleep!

i sat in the doc's office, my mind doing wheel spins. do
nothing or an op and six weeks in plaster. hmmmm!

eventually my sixty year old brain made the grown up decision.
i signed the consent form and the mighty nhs's pre op exercise
swung into action. every part of me was prodded, poked and
checked. it was fast and efficient - i am finally impressed.
i was also a little nervous, this was too fast. when were they
thinking of operating?
when in doubt ask!

me, in slightly strained and panic stricken voice ...
"ummm, about when will this op take place?"

pre-op nurse ...
"well ... the list is quite long, probably not before the
beginning of september ... eight to twelve weeks, unless ...
the consultant has a gap."

i exhale and feel my tensed muscles relax, okay dokay,
i can handle september.the efficiency with which my pre op
was handled had me worried.not a problem though, merely
another case of nhs hurry up and wait!