Good old hockey sticks

It was fine. I don't know what I was bothered about! Ha ha, no, it was okay. Puffy frozen mouth now but on the whole fine.

Another different dentist and she was nice. Kept reassuring me and telling me I was doing great: I think she noticed my shoulders tensing up to my ears at regular intervals. That was involuntary, a natural response, I think, to stress, and the potential for pain or discomfort.

I had to stop at a shop on the way back to buy extra milk and I popped into the charity shop as well. Of course. 

I used to love my Judy comics as a child and I wondered if GrandDaughter2 might enjoy reading the annual. I suspect that, even though this one is only from 1992 and not my childhood, it will still have outdated ideas that GrandDaighter2 won't understand or care about. But I'll read it first anyway. Dream of the fab life I'd have had if I'd been able to go to a spiffing boarding-school and have late night tuck parties, after we'd won the hockey championship beating our old rivals, even though their captain had employed various devious cheats to ensure their victory.

To be born Welsh

I have a dentist's appointment at 12.15 so, obviously, I can't settle to anything. 

I am having two fillings: one top right, one bottom left, if I recall correctly. I will probably be speechless afterwards. I hate going to the dentist. I might not have been badly hurt by one since my childhood but it's just the discomfort, the wanting to swallow, the how-many-things-can-I-get-in-your-mouth-at-once uckiness of it all.

The last dentist I saw, the one who diagnosed the decay, lacked a bedside manner. I hope my original dentist is back from maternity leave. Also 12.15 is not a good time. She will be hungry. 

I am occupying myself by preparing the church newsletter. I am filling it full of Welsh stuff as it's Dydd Dewi Sant (Day David's Saint) on Sunday. There's a famous Welsh saying slightly adapted from the first verse of a poem: 

To be born Welsh is to be born privileged.
Not with a silver spoon in your mouth,
But music in your heart and poetry in your soul.

You'll find it only tea-towels, coasters, mugs, any sort of souvenir. The original poem, In Passing by Brian Harris, is lot more depressing than it begins. Like this verse:

This Land of our Fathers was built on coal.

Its rivers of mingled blood and sweat

Have forever darkened it,

Relieved only by death.

But we've got music and poetry so that's fine.

Add electrician to my CV

I was opening up Zac's last night and I arrived there (ten minutes early) to find three people already waiting. 

Inside I discovered that the urn, though it had come on, was still cold, and the lights in the corridor and, crucially, toilets weren't working.

Did I panic? No. Well not a lot. 

After an initial dodgy moment when no matter how much arm waving I did the lights didn't come on (they're movement sensored) I had a brainwave! Perhaps a fuse had blown.

Amazingly I knew where the fusebox was and, sure, enough, one of the little switches that should have been up was down. I flicked it up and, hey presto, the lights came on. When Sean arrived he wondered what the problem had been to make the fuse go but that was of little importance to me: the lights were on and that was what mattered. Someone else could sort out the underlying problem tomorrow.

I still had the urn to resolve. I turned it up high and began boiling the kettle. One kettle doesn't go far when you're making sixteen hot drinks but by the time the urn came to temperature we were going home. And people kept asking me questions and half-doing things but not finishing them. Fortunately there was a big bowl of chocolates on the counter. (Yes, I did put them there.) I make have eaten more than my share but I felt I deserved it.

It's Sean's birthday on Thursday so we had cake to celebrate.

Hedgehogs, owls, and lupins

On her blog Janice talks about a hedgehog her son made in school. I commented that my son had made one in school too. I was wrong.

It was an owl. And now I think about it, it might have been Daughter who made it. I have this little collection on display.

Owl, house, and skateboarder. One ear and one arm missing but not bad for pieces more than thirty years old.

Janice also mentioned that they used to see hedgehogs in their garden but not any more. It's the same here. When we bought the house from the previous owners they said to leave a piece of wood leading from the light cover on the swimming pool to the edge so hedgehogs, who'd been attracted by the water, could get out. If we forgot we would occasionally find a hedgehog in the bottom of the pool. But we don't get that any more. No hedgehogs. We also used to see more bats.

* * * * *

It's turned out to be a lovely, mild, sunny day. After hanging out the washing I took a turn around the garden and spotted this raindrop on the lupin leaf.

Pinocchio Day

As it's Pinocchio Day I thought I'd revisit some old photos.

On this date in 1940 Walt Disney released its film of the same name - which incidentally won two Academy Awards. The film is a disneyfied version of a much blacker tale by Carlo Collodi that was first serialised in magazines for children in 1881, before the book was published in 1883.

Back in 2022 we visited the family in Italy and took a trip out to Vernante, the home in later life of the illustrator, Attilio Mussini, who gave new life to the character of Pinocchio in the edition of the book published in 1911.

After his death in 1954 local artists painted murals of his work on the walls in the town. Since then more and more murals have appeared, some of them quite grim.

Eccentricity for good

Some people, including members of my immediate family, say I'm eccentric already, but when I read that eccentricity is good for you, I have to say, "Hooray to that."

In an article on the BBC website experts explain the benefits of eccentricity. In exercise that is. Let me explain it as I understand the principle. When you lift a weight, say in a bicep curl (muscles contracting), that's concentric exercise; when you lower the weight (muscles lengthening) that's eccentric.

I mention this in particular in relation to my previous post and the walking uphill versus walking downhill discussion. 

From the article:

In one study, participants were asked to either walk up or down the stairs of a 10-storey building, and use a lift in the other direction. They did this twice a week. Amazingly, after 12 weeks, it was the group walking down the stairs that were fitter. 

The group walking downstairs improved their muscle strength by 34%, over twice as much as the group walking upstairs! That’s much more than you would expect from normal exercise. Studies have also shown that eccentric exercise can improve mobility surprisingly quickly – more so than exercises that only focus on stretching.

And with less strain on the heart. The article went into lots more detail but ended with this advice:

One simple thing you can try is the sit-stand challenge: lower yourself down into your chair slowly, then stand up at normal speed. It seems easy but try this enough times and you’ll feel surprisingly sore afterwards.

So walking down the mountain would have been better for us!

* * * * *

An excellent day for collecting driftwood on the beach as the tide is high and there have been storms out at sea, so the beach is littered. So much so that some kind souls built a sheltered bench on the beach out of driftwood.

I was on the lookout for the perfect pieces of driftwood for a cross. I'd already made one but wasn't happy with it, so I was pleased to find some better pieces today.

On the way home with Husband kindly carrying the bigger piece I asked his advice about a base for it. I was coming up with some complicated ideas when it struck me: a Christmas tree stand!

The spare one we have isn't ideal but you get the picture. I will surround the base with stones when it's properly set up. The idea is that it is a prayer cross. We will leave pieces of paper and pens next to it so that anyone who comes in the church hall can leave a prayer request tucked in the string around it, and any requests will be picked up and prayed over by people from the church.

Memories and mess

Had a brilliant idea. Got bored halfway through.

All of this - and more - came out of the tall boy cupboard in our bedroom. I was driven to my brilliant idea by the fact that every time I opened a door something fell out. But surrounded by 'stuff' I got bored

Went and put the kettle on. Came back and restarted.

Most of the stuff on the floor is no longer in the cupboard - either thrown away or 'put in pile to be put in attic when roof is finished', but my cupboard is still full. But I know what's what and what's where now.

The trouble with having a creative family and seven grandchildren is that I am compelled/want to keep every piece of art or card they've ever made me. (To go in attic pile.)

I also found memories.

Way back in 2005 Husband was invited to the corporate hospitality box at the Millennium Stadium for the annual Wales versus England rugby international. Unusually I was invited too. (We were discussing this week how many work/fun trips Husband got to go on without me.)

Most of the people in the group were there for the hospitality. The vice-chancellor of the university and I were there to cheer Wales to win the rugby. (Husband was there to cheer England.) That was the start of the good days for Welsh rugby. Wales did the Grand Slam that year beating the other five nations. This afternoon Wales take on Scotland. I am not expecting a win.

The other particular memory was from our 2008 holiday in the west of Canada. This was in the days before grandchildren and Husband and I were accompanied on our holiday by Daughter (who arranged the whole thing brilliantly) and Son-in-law.

One day we visited Banff and Sulphur Mountain - and we walked to the top. 

I'm starting a new paragraph because you need time to think about walking to the top of Sulphur mountain at 2,281 metres. 

We rode back down in the gondola.

Now I knew there was a reason why we did it that way round so I just searched my blog and here's the explanation:

We decide we'll get the cable car up and walk down.

Husband to boy on ticket desk, 'Four singles, please.'

Boy-on-ticket-desk, 'Sorry, you can only buy singles at the top.'

Husband, 'But we want to get the cable car up and walk down.'

Boy-on-ticket-desk, 'We only sell singles at the top because it's easier to walk up than it is to walk down.'

We go into a huddle and discuss this logic. We decide he has an honest face and we'll walk up.

When we must be three-quarters of the way up at least I ask a hiker on his way down, 'Are we nearly there?'

'Oh, no, you're not even halfway there yet.'

I would swear but I am polite. And I must save my air to breathe.

As the path zig-zags under the overhead cable cars, I think how terribly unlucky someone would be if they were killed by a falling cable-car. I make a point of running - okay, walking faster - underneath the wires.

When we reach the summit all I want is a bed, intravenous tea and an oxygen mask. I don't care it's a world heritage site.

Can you see the pained grimace on my very red face?

Ticketed!

I got a parking ticket this morning!

I'd been in Zac's sorting out clothes into ones we can use, ones for the charity shop, and ones for the tip piles. I fetched the car and parked opposite Zac's so I could load it up. No, I wasn't in a proper parking bay but I was only going to be there a few minutes and I wasn't in anyone's way.

I went and fetched a load of bags and came out to the parking warden looking embarrassed. He'd just been told by Kit, who'd been helping me, why I was parked there. The poor warden was very apologetic and regretful but explained that once he'd taken the ticket out of the machine there was nothing he could to reverse it.

I came home planning to appeal but Kit later messaged me and said he'd paid the fine. Wasn't that kind of him? 

Traffic wardens are keen around Zac's after one of our volunteers complained to them about Muslims parking all over the place when they went to Friday prayers in the mosque opposite - something that bothered her more than it should have. Perhaps I should have asked her to pay the fine!

Came home, had lunch, wondered what to do next. Decided, as it had stopped raining, to tidy the top of the drive.

We used to come up the drive and park in front of the garage but Husband banned me from doing that because I kept driving into the post at the bottom. (Once I did it! Okay, maybe twice. But no more.) So for a long time we've parked out the front. But now with two skips and sometimes a builder's lorry out there we've had to return to the drive. And the top was looking very overgrown, unkempt, and generally uncared for. 

This is after clearing, by the way. Where you can see the dug-up bits of mud is where I worked. Before that it was much worse than the bit you see in the middle. The area above the little bit of wall at the side I've been using to transplant day lilies and some sort of geranium, I think, that I wanted to move from the main garden. Surprisingly they seem to have taken well. The plants along the bottom of the wall are forget-me-nots, which will look lovely when they flower so I didn't dig those up.

Nobody else is going to notice my hard work but I'm pleased with what I did. And now I've made some chocolate raisin slice to take out to the working girls tonight.

Time to sit and read I think.