SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL VET

We do, we've paid them a fortune this week. Bertie, on his return, was immediately booked into the vets and is now nicknamed (S)noballs. Holly went for a check up on her bites and was immediately taken in for surgery as the rogue gnashers had punctured a couple of layers of dog and caused an internal lake. She's home today, stitched and with a bucket on her head - she is not happy. Babeski's on the drugs which seem to have given her a bit of a new lease of life. Ari's still recovering from his ordeal a few weeks ago. Morris and Biffer are, on the whole, tougher. They don't need no vet, man.

The wanderer returns

Phew, Bertie's home. Good news at last.

I haven't blogged for quite some time. I could say it was down to the pressures of gardening, or it was my hectic social life, my troubled (sometimes) personal life, or I could tell you it was sheer laziness. I could tell you and I will - it was all of these. Blogging just seems like hard work right now, another thing to commit to, even though I've proved it's good for this brain to let it all out. And let's face it - just what is so interesting?

Well, for those of you who are interested, let me regale you with the trials and tribulations of this week. Tom arrived on Friday accompanied by new GF, Sarah, of whom we thoroughly approve. We all went to Seb & Danni's wedding blessing then a bit of a do back at the farm. We got a Wii (thanks P & C!), now populated by our family of Miis so we golfed, bowled, served and boxed until the aches were unbearable. We went to Ikea (they've missed us) and M & S which was mobbed and then Tom & Sarah took the dogs for a walk which is when it all began.

Passing the Pooh bridge they put the dogs back on their leads because, although they were still miles from the road and on a public footpath, they knew that the next house they came to had big barking dogs. To be on the even safer side they picked the dogs up. But that didn't stop four heavy, snarling, gnashing hounds from dragging Holly out of Sarah's arms and try to tear her limb from limb. Tom waded in and managed to kick the marauding dogs out of the way as Holly turned tail and legged it home where we discovered a gaping wound on her back and a very deep puncture on her side. She's now on various drugs to alleviate the infection and bring down the swelling so they can investigate further whether her stomach has been punctured. It's a long, slow process made even slower as she was spayed last week and her wounds are too close to the scar and stitches to be investigated by surgery which would be the normal procedure. The episode has freaked her out massively; she is with one or other of us constantly, not letting us out of sight, and if we're out she hides under the bed, but each day she gets happier. And all the trips to the vet seem to have curbed the car sickness!

Bertie has gone missing. He was with us all Tuesday evening until very late; he must have gone out as we slept and hasn't been home since. There seems to be a Bermuda Triangle for cats hanging over Whitegate - or should it be the Whitegate Triangle? We've never lost so many cats in as quick succession as we have this last couple of years. I'm still hopeful that he'll come back. He has to, we all miss him and Ari is pining for him.

Babeski has been to the vets today. She's so skinny now, her coat is losing condition, she's incontinent, can hardly walk and is sick every time she eats so we really thought it was the end, that, at 18 years old, she'd reached the end of her 9th life. But not yet! We're putting her on steroids (they are allowed, she's not up for the olympics) which will hopefully perk her up so she can reign for even longer. She's always been known as Queen Babeski. Long Live the Queen.

On the tribulation side Hannah has started a new job in Marketing and PR, a career for which she's perfecly suited, and Tom has moved into a much nicer house than the last ****hole he was living in (although it didn't bother him half as much as it did me!).

I haven't been as active in the garden this year as last, but the head gardener does seem to have taken over a bit. I've been busy doing the other house up for letting as the downside of Hannah's new job is that she has to move away and have discovered I'm quite handy with a paintbrush. No doubt I'll be trying my hand at other DIY skills in time.

We've had a crap couple of years - depending on your viewpoint it all started to go down hill either when my mum died or when my brain exploded. Whatever, it just doesn't seem to be getting any better. I wish I could know when it will.

RIP

It is with great solemnity and not a little guilt and grief that I report the death of the badger. It was an accident but that does not make it right. Figgis' bumper is bent; no doubt justifiable retribution.

Animal Rescue and a chip off the old brock

Bertie on the branch

It's been quite a week for animals in trouble but we've been right there, like Thunderbirds Are Go, to save the day. It began with Bertie Boosh's derring do up the tree - up being the operative word as it was the only way he went. Down did not feature willingly.

Del & Fif demonstrate the blanket-catch shimmy to unimpressed chicks

But, ta-da, Fif and Del were on hand with the rescue blanket, weaving left, right, up, down, following his every direction along the branches (note the chickens who couldn't give a monkeys about the unfolding drama). Fortunately the blanket was not put to use - Fireman Fif climbed the ladder and coaxed one very relieved Bertie into her arms.......

Fireman Fif wears her patented ladder-climbing slippers for extra grip

Yesterday was Angela's 40th birthday, which will be news to all those people she didn't tell, so we drove up to Carnforth to celebrate with the Hucks. Off to the local hostelry for a very palatable birthday supper where we met a bedraggled persian puss with runny eyes and a penchant for a pint. It took all my powers of persuasion to prevent Fireman Fif from bundling Persian Puss into the car and home to Cheshire for TLC. Mind you, I nearly did the same with the unkempt Shetland ponies in the paddock at the back of the pub, particularly as the black one looked just like my first pony. It would be fair to say mine host wasn't big on animal welfare.

After a few Wii games of tennis, rounds of golf and a whitewash on the Wii bowling alley we set off home in Figgis. Just five miles to go when a dark, squat, solid cannonball flew out of the hedge, slamming into Figgis' wing (following swift evasive action by the Figmeister). The badger, for that was what he was, lay, still breathing but unconscious, in a pool of blood in the middle of the road. Following the letter of the law I rang the police who asked us to stay with the badger as he was causing a hazard and they'd get the highways patrol out to move him. A knight in shining armour stopped to assist we damsels in distress and stayed with us throughout the entire ordeal. Some 20 minutes later the police called back to say the highways patrol only came out to bigger animals in the middle of the road and, as I'd stupidly only hit a only hit a medium-sized badger, they'd have to send a patrol car out to assist. But then Brock came round, dragged himself on to the verge and onwards into the hedge, displaying the classic symptoms of a badger with a broken leg and a bitten tongue. We rang the police again (we're on first name terms by this time) to say the hazard had cleared but what do we do about the broken badger? At that very moment an ambulance, lights flashing, siren blaring, rushed towards us. We were impressed with the quick response until it roared on by so we got the number for the RSPCA. Two hours later, those two long, cold, damp hours that Fif, me and our knight in shining armour spent watching the hedge to make sure badger didn't drag himself off home, a lone, sleepy, RSPCA damsel arrived with a noose, a basket and a couple of torches to pull a writhing, hissing, spitting badger into the basket and off to hospital. I'll be ringing tomorrow for an update and possibly arrange a visit. Do badgers like grapes?

The Brothers Birman

Bertie and Ari Boosh, aka The Brothers Birman

They're not blood brothers but most definitely brothers in arms, or should it be brothers in paws? Bertie's the one from Morecambe and Ari is our newest addition, a tortoiseshell birman. Just six weeks younger than Bertie he came to us after he'd been returned to his breeder as an unwanted pet. How anybody couldn't want him is beyond us as he's the friendliest, cuddliest, softest kitten you ever could meet. We had a scare a couple of weeks ago though. He was at the vets having his bits chopped but had a fit as he came round from the anaesthetic. We're still not 100% sure what caused it and could have tests carried out at the knockdown price of £2000 which are not only costly but distressing for Ari. It seems most likely, though, that he was allergic to one of the anaesthetics used (which was also confirmed by another vet). He's fine now, has even stopped walking like John Wayne, and he and Bertie continue to create as much mayhem as possible.

Bloody, bloody, bloody shingles just won't go. As if the itching wasn't bad enough, the other symptoms are positively boring and horrid. Flu-like symptoms with cold shivery feelings particularly in my legs. Ugh.

The vegetable garden in its new location is growing well; we weren't sure how it would do this first year as the ground has spent zillions of years under the cover of the old metal barn. However, it doesn't seem to have had too bad an effect as the parsnips, carrots, potatoes, onions (2 types), shallots, spring onions, peas, broad beans, dwarf beans, runner beans and garlic - yes garlic - is all performing well.

We had a lovely, lovely holiday in Gran Canaria although it was much hotter than usual and I burnt but Fifi didn't - it's normally the other way round. We hired bikes, Thunderbolt and Lightning (the bikes, not us) and did loads of cycling which was great fun and a brilliant way to see another side to the island. We're off to Dubai in June/July, then Vegas for my (big) birthday. We like to travel!

Had an unusual weekend just gone. We took Figgis to the first ever gathering of Figaros in the UK, Fig08. Tell you what, he's a shining example of a Figaro and measured up admirably to his peers. It was a bit freaky seeing over 200 of them lined up at the Heritage Motor Museum in Warwick.

I'm back at subba school, ie OT, this week to try and sort the head out once and for all. Not sure how long term will last but anything's worth a try.

And, on Saturday, we are off to see the Osmonds on their 50th Anniversary Tour. Not only are we going to see them but we have ace seats, right at the front thanks to Hannah and Uncle Paul. Fif's also booked us tickets to see Donny and Marie in Vegas, again not only are we going to see them but she's booked VIP seats so we get to meet them after the show! Guess this all gives my age away!!

And talking of Puppy Love, Morris and Holly continue to guard the range and have got very good at catching rabbits or, more often, catching them from Biffur's clutches. Whatever, Watership Down this ain't!

It's been a long break

Hello Blog. It's been a long time but here we are, back at the blog-face again. I haven't really felt like baring my soul. The shingles is still hanging around and I'm on a second instalment of medication which, doncha know, increases weight (why are there no pluses to these conditions, only minuses?) so I'm bordering on the size of a small house. Also, as the physical recovery has improved the psychological aspects seem to have grown to mega-proportions, which translates to me finding it really, really hard to come to terms with what's gone before, what's lost and what I have to re-learn. I've really just got to get on with it now and accept that I am, to quote a song, what I am. But the residual limitations still don't cease to surprise/shock/astound me which compounds the acceptance and advancement somewhat. Patience is a virtue I never had and still haven't got!

There are no photographs to accompany tonight's blog because, once again, this laptop has been in hospital. The hard drive corrupted with the loss of all on board. Fortunately, whilst I'm pretty crap at backing up, I did save a load of stuff to disk about a month ago for its last visit to the menders so not too much has disappeared into the ether for all eternity. I got the laptop back yesterday but had problems getting back online which were only resolved after a return trip to the repairers and lengthy phone calls with Scotland and India (router supplier and ISP) to try and resolve the situation. 'Tis now resolved, almost, just got i-tunes to sort so that I can synch the i-pod and catch up on all the podcasts I've been missing. Just what is happening in Ambridge this week?

I'm back in the garden again. A new garden, no less. Well, a new location which is hopefully even more fertile than last year's, which was good at one end and not so good at the other (a bit like me, then!). So far dad and I have sunk into the ground....potatoes; broad beans; spring onions; parsnips; brown onions; white onions; parsnips and garlic. We've also greenhouse-sown cabbages, cauliflower, tomatoes and some other things that I can't remember right now. My memory is appalling, so much so that I can't remember how many rows of broad beans I've sown. I literally do have to watch the space! It's good to be back outside again.

All the animals are fine and well with Carrag, Lucky, Voldemort and Victor laying excellent eggs. We're down to four cats now. Phoebe's gone to live with Hannah and Scott, which left us with Babeski, Biffur and Bertie. Lola (Delius' sister) moved North to live with us but escaped after only 2 days and then Ari arrived and is still here. He's a tortie point Birman just 5 weeks younger than Bertie, with whom he's bonded in a hero-worship way. And not forgetting the ever-faithful houndlets who absolutely hate being out of my sight. They (along with Bertie and Ari) came to Anglesey with us for Easter weekend. We had a bit of a breakthrough on the way home with absolutely no car-sickness whatsoever (and Holly only puked four times on the way there). I think the human travel sickness pills and Bach's Rescue Remedy had something to do with it.....