Friday 29 February 2008

Good News, Bad News


I braved the Thursday night dance class on my own and was glad I'd gone along. Learned a couple of new steps in the jive and the quickstep. Next week we graduate to the 'Intermediate' class (same time, other end of the hall).

David has found a house he wants to buy and his offer has been accepted. He's put things in motion with the solicitor and a surveyor. He had an interesting 'world-shrinking' conversation on the phone with the surveyor as they discovered a number of common acquaintances. The connections even stretched back to a surveyor I worked for a number of years ago, who shared the same birthday with David (different year, of course!).

I was up early and over the allotment this morning, enjoying the peace and the birdsong. Then I came home and made the appointed phone call to receive the results of the core biopsy performed last Friday. They found some abnormal cells and have made me an appointment to see a consultant at the local hospital next Thursday. He will look at the X-rays, the results of the core biopsy and the doctor's report, then he will arrange to operate to remove the area (which is very small at this stage), and explain what further treatment, if any, will follow the operation. (More likely to be radiotherapy than chemotherapy).

How do I feel? Surprised, I guess - had assumed the results would be 'nothing abnormal detected'. Otherwise ok. These are the five affirmations from 'A Course in Miracles' for review today:

God is the strength in which I trust

God is the love with which I forgive

There is nothing to fear

God's voice speaks to me all through the day

I am sustained by the love of God

Tuesday 26 February 2008

From Prescience to Pizza

With Brian away on training, I chose not to go to Monday dance club alone. Instead I got some films out of the library. Vic and I watched 'The Celestine Prophecy' and in bed that night I thought about how the characters were shown glimpses of the future in guidance. My thoughts switched to Jesus and the many stories in the Gospels which seem to indicate he had prescience, in particular to the story (see Matthew 17:24-27) where Jesus tells Peter to go catch a fish, look in its mouth, and there would be a coin to pay their taxes.

As a companion to my Quiet Time Bible readings, I've been using a little book called 'Power to Soar' by Charles Sagle. Tuesday's scriptures included II Corinthians 8:12

For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what he does not have.

This was accompanied by the words:

Worried Child,

The law of sowing and reaping is working for you, not against you. Which do you suppose packs the most power? The seeds of love and faith or the seeds of fear and failure? Think about it.

With Joyful Expectancy,

Father

Home-made pizza (with a scone base) is a long-standing family favourite, and Tuesday night David helped me assemble one. Yum! We used fresh basil from the indoor herb garden.




Monday 25 February 2008

Sunday/Monday

If you are new to this journal – welcome! (I would encourage you to leave a comment – click on the comment box below). Sometimes the things I write about here will be trivial, other times I'll let you take a peek through the windows of my soul.

On the subject of trivia, we had home-made mushroom soup, tuna salad with potato and parsnip mash and experimental gluten-free blueberry rock cakes for lunch on Sunday. Come the evening, we both had the most foul smelling flatulence. I blamed it on the mushroom soup and would have thrown the rest away, but Vic ate the remainder with relish next day, chuckling gleefully at the idea of sharing the after effects with his colleagues at work. Men are such naughty little boys at heart, don't you think? He seemed mildly disappointed to report no wind – must have been something in the combination of foods, I guess.

The Sunday morning service was very powerful. Pete H_ offered three simple points. He began with the title 'Leading or Distracting?', inviting us to consider were we leading people in the right direction or offering distraction. I'll write more about the service on another blog – email me if you would like the link – but the point relevant to this blog is he encouraged us to risk looking stupid by inviting people to come and meet with Jesus. The church is looking to put up a new building on its home plot and with this in mind, I walked into town and set up a new standing order with the bank. A cashier in training served me, and when she had finished, I handed over some invitations to the special guest service on Easter Sunday when we'll be handing out free Easter eggs.

I've been thinking about how God can use money as a form of guidance. It began with thinking about 'the Temple tax'. My charitable giving hasn't included a regular donation to church since I gave up work and left the Anglican church. When the plans for the new building were put before us, I really wanted to respond. The next day I received notification in the post that my benefits would be increased and felt it seemed like an answer to my desire to respond to the Church's venture of faith.

Friday 22 February 2008

From NHS to RHS

This morning began earlier than usual. I set the alarm for 6 am as my church Cell group has called for a day of prayer and fasting in preparation for the 'Church in the Park' event, 24th/25th May. Quick shower, then on to the prayer meeting at our Cell leaders' home where I did my usual 'Quiet Time' Bible reading. We offered prayers in the Spirit. At 8.50 am I drove on to June's house and collected her, then on to Guildford. June's navigating was excellent. The Jarvis Centre is the NHS at its very best. It's in an old maternity unit and as you enter the foyer, there is a good feeling. Soft, relaxing music plays in the background; a well-kept, well-stocked tropical fish tank offers therapeutic viewing; a receptionist greets you and invites you to take a seat; there are magazines to read or even some knitting provided; a 'Flavia' hot drinks machine dispenses a choice of decent beverages; comfy chairs and pleasant décor complete the picture.

I was called through promptly, and a nurse checked my details and explained what would happen. She returned me to the waiting area and the radiologist came to collect me. She (all the staff at the unit are female) explained the doctor wanted some X-rays which would show a particular area which wasn't easy to reach. It took a few slides before she was satisfied and returned me to the waiting area. The doctor came and collected me and explained that in comparing my recent mammograms with the previous ones, there was a change. She showed me the small cluster of white specks, explaining they were calcium deposits which might not be sinister, but she wanted to perform a needle biopsy to check that there were no abnormal cells in the area. To do this would require another X-ray to guide the needle to the right place, and she would inject some local anaesthetic first.

We went to a different room with another X-ray machine where I was required to sit in a stret-chair naked to the waist with a polythene apron covering my (clothed) lower half. Two radiologists worked to force as much of the breast into the X-ray machine as they could, my arm lifted high then draped across the top of the machine, and my chin elevated so that the machine could scrape down the breast bone to ensure that the X-ray would target the right area. The doctor asked me to keep very still and suggested I 'take myself to another place' so I closed my eyes and relaxed, silently repeating "God is the peace in which I rest". It did help. The nurse came in and commented that I looked very relaxed, as though I was dropping off to sleep. "Do you do yoga?" she asked. I'll confess I felt a little resentful at having to answer, as I had to leave that 'other place' to do so, and trying to speak when your neck is stretched and your chin sitting on top of a hard object without moving your chest is, I think, nigh on impossible. "No, I've been saying to myself 'God is the peace in which I rest'" I told her, and had to repeat it as she didn't catch it first time.

As to the procedure, it's a little painful when the needle goes in and when the local anaesthetic is being pumped in, and there is a sensation of pressure when the biopsies are being taken (about 6 or 7, I think – there's a loud click each time), but nothing beyond endurance knowing that it will only last a short time.

Afterwards I was pronounced fit to drive, and June and I headed off to the Royal Horticultural Society Gardens at Wisley. Although not as bright and sunny as recent days, the weather was much milder than it has been. We walked through the gardens enjoying the spring bulbs, checked out the model allotments and then finished at the glasshouse with exotic orchids, succulents and cacti on display. Beautiful!

Saturday 16 February 2008

That ain't the way to do it!

Amongst the books recently donated for the church library there is one called 'How do you say "I love you"?' ( by Judson Swihart) I was reading it today and came to a paragraph called 'Love is listening' (p.41):

The place to begin, then, in meeting emotional needs is to determine what those needs are. The very attempt itself is a powerful expression of love.

Purposefully, I put the book down, folded my glasses and put them in their case and looked at Vic, innocently eating an orange. Do I know what his emotional needs are, I wondered. We'd just had a conversation planning Sunday - he would drop me off at church with the books, then come and pick me up afterwards and we'd drive straight from there to Bristol to have lunch with Vicky. I'd suggested he could come in to church with me, but he'd declined, saying he might want to go out on his bike. Hmmm.... I thought .... there might be a clue here to his emotional needs, so I asked a question. Not a nice, simple, open question that might have led naturally and organically into a conversation. Oh no. The segment of orange paused on its way to his mouth. "Why do you have to analyse everything?" he demanded. I chuckled and read the quote above, explaining I really hadn't meant to make him feel like he'd been put under the microscope. I was trying to determine his emotional needs, and the attempt was supposed to make him feel loved! You know, sometimes I can be pretty smart ... other times ... well, I'll leave it to your kindness to finish that sentence for me.

The book does make some very valid points, eg p79:
Second, as a friend of mine puts it, 'You get good at what you practice.' If you practice expressing lots of critical and hostile feelings, you will become good at it. All of us have seen people who have practiced criticism so much that they could make the first eleven if negativism ever became a professional sport!


It's not just being critical of others that is a problem, in my view. Some people I meet express critical, hostile feelings towards themselves - they are by far their own worst critics, and would do well to learn to be their own best friends. I have learnt that if I wouldn't say something harshly critical to my best friend, it's wise not to say it to myself.

Friday 15 February 2008

Little Objects of Desire: Toilet Paper

Some years ago Sainsbury's introduced a new toilet tissue to their range. It was quilted (in competition with Andrex Quilts). It was marvellous! Fantastic wet strength, yet soft and economical. Then it vanished from our local store leaving a lingering desire for more ... now there is a quilted version available once again but it doesn't seem to be quite the same. This version has, I surmise, less sheets per roll than the original, and although you don't need as many sheets per wipe compared with the unquilted version, we seemed to be getting through rolls at the rate of .... well, at the rate of a public toilet. We've reverted to the unquilted sort. They have the FSC logo on, so at least my conscience can rest untroubled. Thank you, Sainsbury's, for providing such a wide choice of toilet tissue!

In other news:
I've been invited for an interview and received an application form for the job of volunteer in the Age Concern tea room. I studied the 'skills/experience' box for a while. Would they really be interested in my IT skills, or my office experience? It didn't seem particularly relevant to serving Old Folks tea. Hesitantly, I printed:


BEEN MAKING TEA FOR MANY YEARS

... thought about it some more, then added another line:

CAN MANAGE COFFEE, TOO.

By now it was looking like the start of a poem, so I finished with:


THERE'S WASHING UP? WELL HAVE NO FEARS,
THIS ALSO I CAN DO.

Let's hope it brings a smile to someone's day.

Today I harvested some of the herbs and used them on the home-made pizza - Lovely! Here is a photo of the herb garden before harvesting.

Thursday 14 February 2008

Valentine's Day II

A couple of other unexpected things arrived through the letterbox today: the paperboy delivered The Times instead of our Daily Telegraph, which was a surprise, as was the surprising Valentine Card from Tescos. They say it with Clubcard points, apparently. Whatever it was they're saying, they're being pretty cheap about it - but maybe I shouldn't turn up my nose at 25 extra points on laundry or cleaning products for Valentine's Day ... be grateful in all circumstances says St Paul. Thanks, Tescos.

My decision earlier today to return to the anti-Candida diet hit an early snagging point come dinnertime. Lunch was fine – I had the leftover vegetable bolognese from Tuesday. Gillian McKeith would definitely have approved as it contained Quinoa and Aduki beans (rumoured to be her favourite. The amazing thing about Aduki beans is that they don't appear to cause flatulence. I like that quality in a bean). On the meal plan for dinner tonight was Mushroom omelette and home-made chips. Mushrooms don't feature in the anti-Candida diet, nor does cheese, if I remember rightly. Come to that, tomorrow night's home-made pizza will also fail to comply with the new eating regimen. Then Vicky's cooking for us on Sunday … looks like the new diet will need to begin with next week's menus. When I plan the week's main meals, I usually aim to include two fish dishes, at least one vegetarian meal, one egg based meal, and the rest meat.

This afternoon I went over the allotment and pulled some leeks (for leek and potato soup using the chicken stock from Sunday) and picked some purple-sprouting broccoli – very proud of the broccoli! Steamed it for a few minutes and it was lovely: full of flavour and very tender (not to mention anti-Candida compliant).

Valentine's Day

I've got Athlete's Foot again. Haven't had that for 2 or 3 years, ever since I discovered the cure for fungal infection is to tackle it from the inside. When I was following the anti-Candida diet, all kinds of niggly minor ailments cleared up, including Athlete's Foot. I don't think I got any migraines, either, so far as I can recall. Once the body was back in good health and good shape, it was so much easier to maintain as it didn't have any hungry fungi craving sugars! You know how it is once you start eating sweet foods - it sets you up to want more. Last week after the mammogram, I bought a packet of wheat-free chocolate biscuits. They were yummy! Then I made a gluten-free banana & carrot cake (with added sugar), pancakes with maple syrup and ice-cream on Pancake Day, and again at the weekend. More wheat-free biscuits were consumed on Saturday .... no wonder the migraine and the Athlete's Foot with all this fuel to stoke the fires of inner hell!

Not only has the impurity of my diet been compromising my health, but the self-recriminations about these lapses, about the weight gain, and about the general tardiness to get up at a reasonable time every morning have been compromising my peace of mind - which could become a vicious downward spiral unless this day sees a decision for love.

Talking of the mammogram (I did mention it back there in passing), unexpectedly I have received a couple of invitations - one, to spend a whole morning with the Breast Screening Unit in Guildford, and two, to attend an appointment with my GP - both of these to take place next week.

In other news:

Tuesday this week saw me attending another couple of meetings - I picked up an action from the Mental Health Links meeting, to create the publicity leaflet for the 'Wholeness through Spirituality' training course. I spent Wednesday afternoon working on it, and was pleased to accomplish the task. It felt good. Wednesday was a pretty good day all round, really - the weather was gorgeous again. I hung some washing out on the line, and had a brisk walk into town and back to get away from the computer screen, so I felt I'd enjoyed the benefit of the sunshine. I also wrote something for the Cell Group blog about last week's meeting, which I've been intending to do. Of course, in bed last night I remembered some more things that had been said at the meeting which I'd left out ... oh well, I know some people are put off reading things I write because they are over-long and wordy. Would be wise to remember 'less is more'. On the other hand ... I have five fingers. No, really what happened there was my thoughts went off at a tangent, thinking about writing. I'm still working my way through a friend's novel, making comments as I go. I sent an email recently saying "I'm just over halfway through novel which seems very accomplished with well-defined, well-drawn characters", which to me was high praise, and was surprised by the reply: "Hope my novel is more than just proficient. But if that's all - hey, well..."

Anyway, my two decisions for today:

1. Take better care of this body with regards diet and exercise (resume anti-Candida diet)

2. Set a regular time for getting up in the morning.

Monday 11 February 2008

Making a Difference

On Sunday the service was very powerful - it felt good to be a part of it. Afterwards I manned the library desk and was pleased to respond to some book requests and to see people helping themselves to the Christian magazines and devotionals I'd made available.

In the afternoon Vic followed me over the allotments on his motorbike and we measured up so that I can get down to making a planting plan, then he rode off into the sunshine and I came home to get the dinner. By evening the headache I'd been trying to ignore had really moved in - last time that happened I went to the evening prayer meeting and the headache went away. This time I took a long soak in the bath and it eased off for a while but came back with a vengeance when I went to bed early. Finally I resorted to taking a tablet and felt much better this morning.

I walked into town and met up with June, introducing her to the group of friends I occasionally meet with on a Monday morning. On the way home I pass the little tea-room run by Age Concern on behalf of the elderly - for a long while I've been considering volunteering to help so I came home and tracked down the 'Do It' website and put in an application.

Through the day the headache has been building again and as it's Monday dance club tonight, I'll probably take another tablet before I go.

As to 'making a difference', the subject of this post: I just received an email from one of the friends who was there this morning. I've been treated for mental health issues off and on for about 12 years now. For the first 9 or 10 years my routine outpatient appointments with the psychiatrist were frequently covered by his junior - often a different one each time. I found it frustrating that each new doctor I saw would take the same 'history' down and file it away, apparently never to be read. Talking to other mental health service users, I was not alone in finding that frustrating. Then in the past few years the Government has directed the NHS to become more responsive to its customers. Things began to change for the better, and I learned that I could ask to change to a different psychiatrist. I was switched to Dr P_, a highly competent female psychiatrist, who made herself personally available for almost every appointment, and for the ones that she wasn't able to attend personally, she made sure that her deputy was another female doctor who knew me and was fully briefed. It was so much better!

Then the local mental health trust decided to reorganise and Dr P_ was moved across to deal solely with inpatients, and her outpatient list was switched to another female psych, Dr H_. I had my first appointment with Dr H_ back before Christmas, and had anticipated that Dr P_ would have given her a handover on each patient, so was disappointed to discover this was not the case. Dr H_ sat with the large file in front of her containing (presumably) every one of those histories faithfully recorded by every other doctor I've ever had my mental health assessed by ... and began to take my history. I took a deep breath and explained that for the sake of myself and all her other patients, we really don't find it helpful having to regularly rehearse the darkest periods of our life, that having to do so can have a negative impact on mental health, and that we would find it so much more helpful if the doctor could acquaint herself with the file before seeing us. She took it well.

I mentioned earlier the email from a friend ... she saw Dr H_ for the first time today, and Dr H_ said, "I won't ask you to go through your whole history as that would be unhelpful for you". Result!

Would you like to make a difference? A little bit of encouragment wouldn't go amiss - please feel free to leave a comment.

Saturday 9 February 2008

Make Hay while the Sun Shines

Too early for hay, but I've certainly been making the most of this gorgeous sunshine the past couple of days. For a few weeks I've been on a 'go slow' over the allotment, and it was good to get a bit of a prod from June yesterday who rang and suggested we meet over there. It was very pleasant working in the unseasonal warmth with the radio playing softly nearby. Reception is clear over the allotments and I can pick up Premier and UCB Christian radio. Reminds me of a song from my teen years: Get in touch with God, turn your radio on.

I was clearing some of the weeds from the other half of my new plot, the half I took over at the beginning of this year. I'd walked over there, then June took me home with her and gave me a cup of coffee before I walked home again. Vic commented that my hair and clothes smelt delightfully fresh, just like washing hung on the line. Who needs expensive perfume?

Today I've spent most of the day at the allotment and with Brian's help, put in three new blackcurrant bushes and carried on with the general weeding and tidying. I arrived home as a lady was walking her dog past the house. She asked me whether we or our neighbours had had our oak trees lopped last year, because from her house she could see something metallic glinting and was concerned the tree surgeon had left his long-handled saw up there. I explained it was part of a CB radio mast and told her the story, how we had come home one day to discover David (aged around 13) had climbed up the tree and installed his 20 foot long aerial up there, maybe 50 foot off the ground! Tell you what, he got good radio reception then! Luckily when the top section broke off in a storm one night, it didn't spear anyone below. It had dug itself into the ground like a javelin.

Friday 8 February 2008

Six Degrees of Separation

Yesterday I noticed a speck of glitter on my purse - yes, this is the glitter from the sparkly top I wore back at Christmas which has retired to the wardrobe having broadcast its stardust into the vast unknown. I amused myself with the 'six degrees of separation' idea, as a spark of inspiration for a short story where the specks of glitter are having a spirited debate about how far they can go, and they engage in a wager - who can reach the US President's nose first! Well, it was quite amusing in my head, anyway. Helped to pass the time as we drove home from Bristol. Not that it will ever get written ... by me. I vaguely remember a TV programme years ago where someone had a tiny spark of an idea for a play, and somehow he got caught up in the world of broadcasting - as the writer, he was adulated, any tiny sound or aspect of body language escaping him taken to be significant, and the whole creative team got to work on it, bouncing off each other until something amazingly creative emerged (which had absolutely no resemblance to the starting point the writer had contributed). To someone less and less inclined to invest the necessary concentrated effort to produce a finished piece of writing (finished as in coherent, fluid, inspirational .... add such other adjectives as you might consider appropriate), this idea of a creative 'team' taking one's merest hint and turning it into a spectacular sounded very appealing. That was a long sentence. I think I made it all the way to the end without getting lost! How about you?

Sunday roast with Vicky was wonderful. She introduced us to a dish she picked up in Africa: roast butternut squash. You cut the squash up and remove the seeds, sprinkle with castor sugar and cinnamon and (I think - I'll check up on this and report back) drizzle with olive oil then wrap in aluminium foil and roast in a hot oven or on the barbecue. Amazingly the skin softens to the extent that it becomes edible.

In other news:

I thought I'd finished filling in the application form to become a tea lady, until an inner prompting had me turn the form over to discover more questions on the other side. I have to provide two references, one of which to be a former employer or a professional person, neither referee to be related to me. This is a strange thing and I'm trying not to see any deep significance in it, but as I look back, most of my former employers are no longer trading. After I've left, companies have closed down or been sold off behind me. A question mark hangs over the place of my most recent employment and it looks set to be sold off eventually. Looking further back, the same has happened to most of the places where I was educated. I tell myself "Change happens - it's the nature of life" and yet ...

My affirmation/exercise for the day from "A Course in Miracles" today is
God's voice speaks to me all through the day
the idea being that as I remember that, I'm listening. Thus it was that, unusually, I took three phone handsets into the bathroom with me this morning (a mobile and one each of the two landlines). Sure enough, I had two phone calls - one from Jacky and one from a lady interested in joining the 'Wholeness through Spirituality' training course. To tell you what I was doing when I answered each of these calls would, I suspect, be 'too much information'. Oh, the wonder of modern-day technology.

Thursday 7 February 2008

Inconceivable

I've been reading Inconceivable by Ben Elton, the novel on which a film called Maybe Baby was based. Parts of it were so funny that I was literally laughing out loud - not one of those books you'd want to read in a public place, perhaps, unless you're totally unselfconscious. Finished it last night. On Freecycle I saw some books and Christian magazines on offer and thought it might be good to make the Christian magazines available on the library table at Church. I'm really glad I responded for two reasons, one because there's some more reading material for Vic and me, and two, because I had an interesting conversation with the Freecycler donating the books and I think she may bring her family along to Church, where I think they would feel at home.

Last night was my first go at leading Cell in the Word. Seemed to go ok, although some members kept quiet and I was wondering whether to invite them specifically to make a contribution or whether to accept that they may not have wanted to say anything.

The digital radio I ordered yesterday arrived today - an almost inconceivably rapid response! It is eminently portable with a re-chargeable powerpak. Unfortunately it seems it can't pick up one of the channels I particularly wanted to receive (that shows on the website as probably available in this area). No doubt as digital coverage expands, I'll be able to get it in due course. Meanwhile it gives the possibility of listening to the radio whilst I'm over the allotment.

Wednesday 6 February 2008

Pancaked

Yesterday was Pancake Day, today I went for a routine mammogram. I hope the irony of the title is not lost. At least I didn't have to pay for the privilege of having my boobs manhandled indelicately into place and then squeezed flat between two cold metal plates whilst adopting an unnatural stance. Manhandled is a misnomer, actually. The mobile screening unit is staffed by two highly competent women. For years I was about as comfortable having a woman touch my breasts as a heterosexual man might be having another man touch his manhood. (That wasn't the word I typed first of all - there was quite an internal debate going on for a moment as I realised I don't want to fall foul of any web censors). Today I was fine about it - very matter-of-fact about the whole business. The mobile screening unit was parked in Teco's car park and the radiologist suggested I could go and reward myself with some retail therapy afterwards. I did go and wander round Tesco's for a while but I really wasn't in the mood for shopping (and anyone that knows me well is probably smiling and thinking, "When are you EVER?") Yes, true - as a child I always thought I'd been born into the wrong body, that I should have been a boy - but hey, I'm over that now, even if I STILL don't find shopping a special treat.

Instead I came home and purchased a portable digital radio over the internet.

In other news:

Glitter continues to sparkle in all sorts of unlikely places, despite the fact that the glittery top went away in the wardrobe after Christmas and hasn't come out again since. No amount of dusting and hoovering seems to put an end to it.

The Yoghurt making continues apace. Normally I make 'set' yoghurt, but I did try a batch of 'stirred'. The recipe book suggests that you mix in 2 or 3 tablespoons of milk powder with the regular milk, and then when you stir it, it won't break into curds and whey as set yoghurt does when you break the surface. It was interesting to see how it altered the molecules - I'm assuming the difference is at a molecular level, anyway. If you lift a spoonful of set yoghurt from the pot, it comes away fairly clean but adding the milk powder made the resulting yoghurt stringy. I can't think of another word for it. I don't mean tough - it's exactly the same experience in your mouth - I mean that it becomes a little like golden syrup or runny hunny, so that as you lift the spoon, a long trail of yoghurt follows it. Fascinating.

The herb garden is looking quite lush and I've had to give the chives a haircut as they were growing close to the lights. The instructions say not to raise the lights until all the herbs are more or less the same height.

Saturday 2 February 2008

Motorbikes Then and Now



If only she could reach those handlebars, she'd be away to post that letter to Father Christmas!

When we first met, Vic rode around on a vintage British bike, an Ariel VH Red Hunter 500. Here, in true motor trade tradition, is a photo of said bike enhanced by the long-haired chicklet astride.




Then last year he bought a BMW off ebay:



The BMW is a commuter/fun bike, but isn't very comfortable for long rides and doesn't have sufficient luggage capacity for the summer trip he and his workmates are making to France. Hence the purchase of this Kawasaki:

He made best use of the dry weather today to take them both out for a spin.

Friday 1 February 2008

Does anything really come for free?

I still haven't made a dental appointment, despite receiving the reminder that I was due for a check up back in November. That's unusual for me - normally I'd have been on the phone the same day booking in, but I've begun to wonder if Vic hasn't got it right after all. I don't think he's been near a dentist's chair in the past 20 years. In the summer a youngster looked into my mouth and asked what were all the black bits in my teeth. I explained that they were fillings, due to not having looked after my teeth properly when I was younger. Later Vic pointed out privately that it was more likely BECAUSE I was conscientious about dental care that I had a load of fillings. (When I vanish after a meal you can bet I'm at the basin flossing). I thought about it, and he might have a point. In my childhood, dental care was free. Trustingly, I submitted to the dentist as he merrily drilled and filled with amalgam to his heart's content (and his bank balance's benefit). It was only in later years that suspicion fell on dentists having carried out entirely unnecessary work in order to claim more from the NHS.

I did tick a few tasks off my to-do list today, including checking oil/tyres/coolant on the car and hoovering out the dog hairs. Did a silly thing - managed to drop the valve cap down behind the wheel trim and couldn't retrieve it - once again the carefully hoarded CIUODs* in the garage proved their worth, and Vic found me a replacement.

Had a counselling session in the afternoon and used it to explore my ambivalence towards the Telephone Interviewing position I've been offered. Vic has concerns that I will take on board the problems of the people I'll be interviewing, and it will have a negative impact on my mental health. He could be right. I haven't even mentioned to the psych that I've applied, as it has been made clear by the mental health team that they consider I'm permanently out of the working population.

In the evening we went shopping in Sainsbury's. I approached the customer service desk and explained that I'd been told I could produce the receipt and pick up my free gift. The assistant agreed and told me to help myself from the display in the middle of the store. It seemed a bit casual to me, but I did it anyway. We carried on with our shopping and had self-scanned everything except the free gift, but then when we went to check-out, the system called for a re-scan. I found it embarrassing explaining to the check-out girl why we hadn't scanned that particular item. I felt it cost more in emotional terms than it was worth!

*CIUOD = come in useful one day