It’s been a pleasant enough week back at work. I’m piling up cases slightly faster than I’m able to do the paperwork, but unless something urgent comes in, I should hopefully catch up with the ones I have next week.
Tuesday was spent training a new locum vet how to conduct a welfare visit. Wednesday saw me conducting a meeting with members of the local council. I work with two of them – Scott and David – on a regular basis and we get on well, but as with everything these days, it all has to be fully justified and written down. Thursday I tested a sheep for bluetongue.
And as all that was going on, all the cattle in my current TB breakdown were undergoing their first wave of testing. Until there are two clear tests, the cattle can’t be moved off the farm to another farm, so the farmer is essentially in lockdown. In the meantime, I have to dig into where the disease might have originated and where it might have spread to. All those animals will need to be tested too.
For now, I am actually on call. There are two “ready to go” vets in Scotland at nights and weekends: one North one South. I’m covering the South, so if any suspicion of notifiable disease crops up, or a welfare case that’s so urgent it can’t wait, then I’m the vet that will deal with it. I don’t know whether to hope something comes up or not. I still have to get my first report case (notifiable disease) under my belt, but obviously I don’t want any animal to have anything bad to crop up. We’re still on high alert for foot and mouth because of the European outbreaks.
After a long spell of warm weather, the pattern has now become more mixed, but Triar and I have been regularly walking down Blackbird Lane together. Well be walking there a lot today because I can’t go far from home in case any call comes in, but I want to get in 15,000 steps today.
I’m still keeping up with my WalkFit challenges and one of those is to do 15,000 steps three times in May. I’ve done two days already and this is the last day in May, so I’m going to go for it. My daily step requirement has stopped rising and is stable at 7,500 steps a day, which suits me for now. I often do more, but on bad days, I can still usually achieve that without too much effort.
There are sometimes cows in the fields lining the lane. I’m working on getting Triar to walk past them quietly. He’s always been something of a barker, but does respond well to bribery.
We did have something of an incident yesterday, not with the cows, but with water. He does love a paddle and there is a fairly disgusting, stagnant looking pool at the far end of the lane. Until yesterday , he had always ignored it, but yesterday he decided to jump in. Despite bathing him for about an hour when we got home, he still retains a definite odour of muddy puddle.
I’m going to finish with a few more photos of Yorkshire from last weekend. The picture at the top of the page was taken from my parents’ conservatory. The rest were taken while out with Triar. I do love a dramatic sky over stone walls and sunny fields. Have a lovely week all and thanks for reading.
One of the highlights of my Shetland trip was visiting the Liberation Convoy which visited Lerwick while I was there. My friends, Melanie and John Arthur came over from Whalsay and together we explored the Norwegian ships which had served in the World Wars and were commemorating 80 years from the end of World War II.
Though it was a fascinating experience there was, as always when thinking about wars, a heavy sense of grief and loss. On the first ship we explored, Hestmanden, we read many stories about the young men, British and Norwegian, who served on board this and other ships. There was devastation brought to so many lives, both those of the young men lost and even of those who came back alive but broken.
One of the most haunting things I read was that many of the sailors who served in WWII were not even welcomed back in Norway at the end of the war. Norway was occupied for most of the war, so many of them could not go home during wartime. By the time liberation occurred, they had been outside of Norway for longer than was allowed, and having not been back, they did not have the right to return. Many did not get back in until 1947 as they waited for papers to be sorted out.
I guess the leaders were dealing with their own devastation, but if there was ever a time for rules to be pushed aside, surely that should have been it? Sometimes Norwegian life was uncomfortable for me as I didn’t really know or understand all the rules or expectations and occasionally, would come up against them and know I didn’t really fit in. It’s hard to explain, but I can’t imagine this particular circumstance having occurred in the U.K.
John Arthur, who is co-owner of a fishing boat and a sailor himself, was particularly interested in the engines. It was incredible to see the machinery from 1911, still in working order and very much still a living memorial. There were oily rags and modern tools to keep everything going.
In a converse to the non-understanding of the rules I mentioned above, there was a sense of freedom in many parts of Norwegian life that doesn’t exist in the U.K. This was reflected in our exploration of these vessels.We were allowed in almost every area of Hestmanden, climbing steep ladders, allowed to poke in corners that I know in the U.K. would have been chained off as too dangerous to enter. I feel I’m talking too much about me and my reflections on living as a foreigner in Norway and not enough about the ships, but it is opening up these thoughts as I am writing this, so you’re just going to have to share them!
Hestmanden was a cargo ship and many of her stories were of sailing in convoys, where many accompanying ships were destroyed and the devastation of how it felt to be a survivor when you had witnessed so much death and lost so many friends and acquaintances. The Andholmen, which we visited next had seen more direct action.
Built as a fishing boat in 1938, she was requisitioned in 1940 by the Norwegian navy up in Narvik in Northern Norway. Germany controlled the only deep water landing place, so small vessels like the Andholmen were used to put allied soldiers ashore.
Later she worked between Shetland and Norway and then was based in Peterhead. It’s not so obvious from that photo, but she was armed and still ready to go.
Climbing down into the cabin, there were tidy bunks tucked away in corners and many more weapons, presumably a collection and not necessarily used on Andholmen herself. The cold metal of the guns makes quite a contrast against the warmth of the wood of which the ship is built. Unlike Hestmanden, which was set up as a museum, this was much smaller, but equally fascinating as a historic part of the war effort.
We didn’t get the chance to go aboard the Arnefjord, but she was one of the ships that worked as part of the “Shetland Bus” service that brought resistance fighters from Norway to the relative safety of Scotland.
The Erna and the Heland were also fishing boats, requisitioned for the Shetland Bus. It was a wonderful experience to see them eighty years later, moored again in Lerwick harbour.
The rest of my week in Shetland was filled with sunshine and coastal views, from cliffs to rocky shores and wonderful golden beaches. Thanks again to Lindsay and Melanie for a fantastic holiday.
Leaving at the end was sad, but I hope to be able to go back. Triar also had a good time, I think.
Triar and I had a wonderful trip to Shetland. Traveling with him is always a joy. He makes me proud and other people smile. We headed up from Settle on the train, changing at Carlisle, walking from Central to Queen Street in Glasgow, then on up to Aberdeen. The Palm Court Hotel made us very welcome and the breakfast was delicious. I think we may head up there sometime for a weekend break, but that’s a decision for another day.
The Hrossey was not due to sail until five, so we stayed in the hotel until eleven, then strolled into town. A brief shower sent me into a cafe, where for the first time ever, as I ordered my coffee, I was asked if I wanted some chicken and water for my dog. Of course I said yes. He deserved it, after all.
Once aboard the Hrossey, he quickly made himself at home.
It was something of a rough crossing, so we didn’t sleep much, but we arrived safely and on time in Lerwick on Sunday morning. Lindsay’s house, where we would be staying, is on the edge of Lerwick, so we set off to walk there, passing the Norwegian named Sandveien and Kantersted on the way.
Lindsay had told me she was going to be eating low-carb and I arrived to the wonderful aroma of a roasting joint of Shetland lamb. We cooked and ate a late breakfast and then headed back out. Melanie (you may remember I spent Wool Week with her last year) was playing in the Mandolin Band as a part of Shetland Folk Festival and I didn’t want to miss it!
After that, the Mae Trio played a twenty minute set, while three little girls danced and spun.
It was a lovely atmosphere, but with only five hours of not-very-good sleep, and with Triar alone in a strange house, I decided we should head back and eat some of that delicious lamb before an early night.
Triar and I were up bright and early the next morning. Unsurprising, I guess, having gone to bed at seven. With Walkfit in mind, we headed out for a morning walk along the road that followed the coastline south. It was beautiful, with the grey rocks, the quiet centre of Lerwick across the bay and the still water under a gentle sky.
In the other direction, lay rocky promontories and islets.
It felt wonderful, walking along that quiet road, going who knows where. Then to cap it all, Triar spotted movement in the water.
To my delight, it was a common seal. Within moments, it hauled itself out of the water and onto a rock, gazing at us as we gazed back.
A thousand steps or so more, we turned to head back. It was breakfast time, after all and still just the start of our Shetland adventure.
And now, back home as I am, I am going to pause there and continue tomorrow. The joiner arrived at 08:23 this morning and is upstairs attaching doors and it’s time for breakfast here too. Tomorrow there will be wartime boats and sunny white beaches, but for now, I’ll leave you with the view from Lindsay’s window and wish you an enjoyable start to the weekend. Thanks for reading.
So here I am, almost two weeks into my Walkfit project. Am I feeling and looking better? Well I’m not sure about the latter. It’s hard for me to assess, not least because I don’t have any decent sized mirrors to check myself out in. However, I am beginning to notice my energy creeping up a little.
As well as encouraging walking, there’s a kind of mini-aerobics session each day, that lasts between seven and ten minutes. I suspect the times will build gradually, but maybe not. They’re low impact and I’m starting to enjoy them, which is why I conclude my energy is building. I usually do them at the end of the day, by which time my steps are usually done anyway so that feels positive.
The current step count aim is 5,200 which I am easily surpassing most days, but if I overdo it one day, then I can drop it right down to that figure and still have achieved the goal, which feels positive. So far, I haven’t lost any weight at all, so their prediction that I would be at my goal weight by June or July was the nonsense I knew it would be, but I do hope that it will start to drop a bit at some point if I carry on, and if it doesn’t, being fitter is never a bad thing.
I have, of course, been doing most of my walking in Blackbird Lane, which has been gorgeous. My Merlin bird app has often picked up a song thrush, but it’s usually been in the distance. Last night I heard its song so loudly that I looked into the bush beside me and there it was. So beautiful. I reached for my phone, to add it to my bird life-list (birds you’ve seen to confirm the app got the identification right) but alas, I had the wrong phone with me. Another day, perhaps!
At the start of the lane, there’s a kind of brownish pond. While the hedge was bare, it was more visible, but it’s really barely more than a big deep puddle. As I walked past on Wednesday, a flash of green caught my eye. There, on this miniature pond, silent and still, was a beautiful mallard. I was amazed to see him there, on this tiny stretch of water.
The lane is a proper road with tarmac for a short distance, then it turns into more of a pathway. Here there are hedges and fields on either side and my eye (and ears) were caught by a group of graylag geese. This time I had my Merlin phone with me. I clicked on the life-list button, which showed me a picture of a graylag goose and asked “Is this your bird?” I answered “Yes” and the graylag goose was added. Though they were clear enough to my eye, they were a bit distant for phone photography, but I did my best.
Only a little further on, I saw movement near the edge of the field. This time I saw the pricked ears and graceful forms of two deer. Again, I could see them fairly clearly, but on my phone, they are distant shapes, though still beautiful.
It was a damp morning, as you might guess from the sky. As well as the animal and bird life, I am entranced by the new leaves on the hedges as well as the flowers that shelter underneath. Everything was sparkling with new life and raindrops. It was a truly lovely morning.
And as I made my way back along the final lengths of the lane, I peeked through the hedge to see whether the little mallard was still there… and caught sight of Mrs Mallard. I don’t know whether that tiny pond, secluded as it is, would be a good place to raise a family, but you never know!
And after Easter and its long weekend are past, I only have two days left at work, before I head to Stavanger for a weekend, then up to Shetland. If my blog next weekend is late, it’s hopefully because I’m enjoying a weekend with John and Yoana.
I was truly spoiled last weekend. It was a time of eating and… well eating more! There was some wine, but really… it was a food fest. Saturday dawned sunny, but there was such a cold wind that wild swimming didn’t seem like such a good idea any more. Instead, we sat in the garden, with the chiminea guzzling wood, as we did the same to a tube of Pringles. By Sunday morning, finding clothes to fit was more of a challenge than I had anticipated, but happily a new top came to the rescue for going to church, where my spirits were lifted. After a delicious lunch of leftover pizza, I headed down the road feeling replete, in more ways than one.
What I was though, was ripe for plucking! As a scrolled through Facebook, I came across a walking app called WalkFit. If I took up walking, it said, I would get to my goal weight in three months (ambitious, to say the least) but sooner than that, it promised that in a week, I’d feel better… and in two, I’d look better. I was hooked.
It has certainly had the effect of making me walk a lot more, but with two days left before the week is up, what I feel is not so much better, as knackered! My feet and legs are tired, I feel heavy and bloated and I haven’t been sleeping well. This is not really what I expected, though it might point to ME as a diagnosis for my neuro ills.
That said, the last time I started to walk, having had a vitamin B injection, the effect was that I quickly got fitter and did feel better. I’m not taking vitamin B in any form at the moment, so that’s something to try. Anyway, a nice side-effect is that I have been walking further along Blackbird Lane, enjoying all the birdsong and the flowers and the wonderful sense of peace.
The photo at the top of the page is from one of my morning walks. The dew is still wet on the grass and in the shady corners, there are frosted leaves and flowers.
Everything is growing with the gentle vigour of Scottish springtime.
The eponymous blackbirds are out in force, darting about, calling their sweet songs, curiously brave as I pass, but flitting away when I pull out my phone to take their picture. As so often before, I wish I had a camera with a lens that would allow me to capture them from further off, but still I do my best, and here it is.
The daffodils are passing now, but a few remain.
This week, bluebells have started to appear.
The hawthorn is decked in exquisite white and gold flowerettes.
And in the last two days, these hardy but cheerful perennials have reared their heads.
Meanwhile, back in my neglected garden, spring is also working its magic.
Nature perseveres and so shall I! Have a good week all and thanks for reading.
Triar and I went over to New Abbey last Saturday. It’s a sweet village, not too far from Dumfries, and it hosts two Historic Scotland premises. Sweetheart Abbey has been swathed in scaffolding and fences for a while, but I have been intending to visit the corn mill for a while. I parked the car and walked in through the gate. The door was locked. Having checked the board outside with the opening times (10 till 4) and my watch (just after 10) I tried the door again, in case it was just stiff. No joy!
I was slightly bemused that they hadn’t blue tacked a notice on the window or on the notice board that said the opening times, but she explained they were having refurbishment done. It was on the website, she assured me. Seemingly taking pity on me (I had been polite, as usual, but persistent enough to knock when it was clear I was being studiously ignored) she opened the gate to let me into the garden to see the water wheel.
She then advised me it was a lovely wander up to the mill pond. Unfortunately there was no water in it, she told me. They’d had some invasive weed which the council’d had to drain the pond for, swathing it in black plastic to finally finish off the evil plant. Well I had to take Triar out somewhere and she’d assured me it was pretty. I’m sure it would be lovely with water, on a lovely summers day. Triar posed for a picture with the plastic swathed backdrop pond. At least one of them was pretty!
She’d also told me it was possible to walk in part of the garden at Sweetheart Abbey, so we went there next and did that, then tempted by an attractive looking cafe opposite it, I decided to go in for a coffee. I had been mostly fasting during the days (coffee aside) and eating only in the afternoon, so my intention was to continue that pattern, ut when I went into the cafe, the server there told me it wasn’t really opening time yet. They opened at 11, but I could go in and wait, if I liked.
As I sat there in lone splendour among the tea and coffee awards hanging on the walls, listening to the ponderous ticking of the grandfather clock, I decided it would only be polite to order breakfast. When she finally came back, I ordered scrambled egg and smoked salmon toast with my latte and have no regrets.
There were also some interesting vegan items on the menu, including bean and hazelnut pate, with various bread and toast combinations, so I shall probably go back and try something else another day.
It’s been a beautiful week. This was the view from my kitchen window on Tuesday morning when I went through to make coffee.
On Wednesday I was through in Stranraer to visit some chickens and on Thursday, I went to Glenluce to look at some cows in a field! Both visits were successful and straightforward, so the paperwork only took me a morning’s work, which was nice. I also stopped for Fish and Chips at Port William (at least, I think that’s where we were!) which were pretty good, though the chips weren’t as lovely as the fish.
It was, altogether, a lovely day.
Our reason for being in Port William was that there had been a report of a dead sheep on the slipway, but either someone had taken it away, or the tide had done so. We had a good look around, but saw nothing.
Anyway, I’m now at Valerie’s for the weekend and I believe we might go wild swimming somewhere, so I’d better get up and get some warming breakfast. The bright sun seems to have deserted this morning, so it may be a little chillier than the hot tub. Wish me luck!
I’ll leave you with a photo from a ruined chapel Triar and I explored yesterday, up at the now, tragically deserted and vandalized, Airth Castle, which was a hotel when I lived here, many years ago. Have a lovely week all!
I am working very slowly on my writing projects. Various sources advise would-be authors to set themselves a routine. Write every day, they urge, or at least consistently. But there are days and weeks when work is taking almost everything I have and when I get home, I cook, eat, watch TV or read, and then I fall into bed. I think, if I had a project with a deadline, I would manage, but without that, I am writing very slowly, when I feel ready and whole.
This week at work has been more measured than the preceding weeks and for the past couple of days, I have been contemplating my Tir n’a Noir story. It starts with Black November: a man watching the raging sea as he declines into the pains of age and the ravages of a long life. That part is written in the past tense as he tries to catch the echoes of the long-ago summer, when Mary came to him.
He catches the echo and falls into a memory. While the current world is grey, the memory is rich with the green of Arctic summer, with its day that lasts for months, when the primitive plants are rushing towards the light. This part, I have written in the present tense. Though it is only in his mind, somehow, this is more real to him than what is happening now. Among the nature, he hears the sound of laughter and is so filled with energy and fascination, he runs towards it.
And that is as far as I have got. I have been waiting and wondering what Mary looks like, playing with ideas in my head. She’s Irish, but I don’t want the cliche of red hair and green eyes, beautiful as those things are. It came to me that I wanted her to remind him of a bird and I started to look up Arctic birds, but nothing really fit.
But for the past couple of days, I have been batting ideas around with my friend Shirley. I met Shirley in the boat terminal in Finnsnes as we queued for the fast boat to Tromsø. She and her friend Linda were speaking English and it was such a rare event, that I spoke to them. Some decisions just turn out to be right, and that was one of them! Anyway, I digress. Shirley took me to Dyrøya in May last year, and that visit inspired me to set my story there.
ToThe snow covered mountains of Senja, from Dyrøya
So having inserted the boat that brought Mary into this scene (a traditional pine-built fishing boat, obviously) I told Shirley our main character had seen the boat, but not yet Mary. I was assuming Mary was already on shore, but I hadn’t said so to Shirley, who assumed she was still on board. We were also discussing cormorants – not the most elegant of birds, but I want Mary to have dark hair and bright blue eyes, which fits better than the Arctic warbler I had been considering. Shirley suggested Mary was standing with outstretched arms, and from that, I saw her with her dark hair and bathing costume, diving neatly into the calm, clear water.
So now I know how Mary will enter the story. I just have to write it and try to find words as striking as the image. I can tell this story is going to unfold very slowly, but if I am in the mood for writing, I can return to my other book, which is about two thirds finished – at least the first draft is two thirds finished. Maybe, one day, I will complete both of them.
So that is project number one. Number two, for the first time in my life, I am working through reading the Bible. Valerie (another no-regrets friendship, wonderfully rekindled) is Christadelphian, a Christian group that puts a great deal of importance on studying the Bible. She sent me an app, which gives three readings each day, two from the Old Testament and one from the New.
Like many people who (have) attend(ed) a traditional church, I am much more familiar with the New Testament than the Old. I know I tried years ago to read it, but stuck on the long lists of names and genealogy. This time, I have pushed on through and am currently reading Numbers. I watched a Netflix show, Testament, which is about Moses. It shows and discusses the plagues that God brought on the Egyptians as well as showing Moses leading the people of Israel into the wilderness.
I confess, I am struggling with the Old Testament God, who seems fickle, angry, and vengeful in comparison with the God that Christ preached about. But it was the same God that Christ was preaching about and that seems very clear.
I guess these are not new struggles. I am never going to be a Bible scholar, though in some way, I regret not having learned more years ago. I find Christian forgiveness and the bonds with community that faith brings to give me a stability that is difficult to find, in this modern world.
But I am trying to find a pathway that combines those easy things with the new knowledge about how God is presented to us in the Old Testament. I don’t want to rationalise it away – pick and choose the bits to believe and pretend the rest is irrelevant or false. I will add here, that Testament showed Moses leading his people through the Red Sea, but Numbers details that there were 600,000 men (and there would be women and children too) and so the idea that there were a million people, living in the desert, picking up their holy tabernacle and moving the whole encampment round…
Well you can understand why I am having difficulty with that concept. The arguments about realism tend to focus on Genesis and creation, but this part seems more impossible to me. I can only persevere and hope that I can find some place of equilibrium.
I did start searching online for one of the cleverest Biblical Scholars I have come across in my life and I found a wonderful video of him talking about the lead up to Christ’s crucifixion in the gospel according to John. I shall share it here, for any Bible Nerds who may be interested. He’s a Monsignor now, but he was Father Patrick when I attended his church, years ago.
My other projects are more prosaic. The house and garden. I have even less energy for those, but will probably end up doing my work to pay for others to do the jobs that need to be done. I just need to find the energy to keep the garden under enough control that it won’t cost thousands more to fix it, when I’ve got the house into better shape. Sometimes it seems there is just too much to do and maybe I should have bought a well maintained apartment!
Work continues apace. I have a new welfare case and another TB suspicion. There’s a bonus available if I can prove that I have certain skills… and there’s another project. The whole of life seems to be a massive juggling act. But for now, I have the weekend and a little oasis of time to spend. I will share a few more images from my garden, which is starting to burst into flower, though I suspect some of the bushes would have benefitted from some pruning at the appropriate times, which is definitively not now. Its wild state is attracting the birds and I’m not going to do anything that will drive them away.
Have a good week all, and if you’ve persevered through my ramblings, thanks for reading!
It’s been a relatively peaceful week at work. I’ve been catching up with all the work that was pushed aside in the past few weeks and even getting ahead for work that’s coming up. By happy coincidence, it’s been beautiful weather. The skies have been clear and blue, and on the walls and under the hedges in Blackbird Lane, everything is growing.
I came across the ghost of one of last year’s flowers as well and couldn’t resist taking a picture. Nature weaving the finest lace!
With the clear skies at night, there was frost under the hedge too. I think these are celandines, edged with hoar frost, which quickly melted away as the sun came up.
Next week, things are still a bit up in the air. Part of the deal with working for APHA is that for one week every three months, I am expected to make myself available for what is called detached duty. This means I could be deployed anywhere to help with disease outbreak work.
On Thursday, I was contacted and asked if I had any experience of licencing. The central licencing team need someone apparently. I asked what kind of licencing and she didn’t know. She told me late yesterday afternoon that she was still trying to find out, so I may still be contacted on Monday about working for that team. In the meantime, I have other work pencilled in, that might all need to be rubbed back out again. Still, it means life is never boring!
And now I’ve deserted Scotland to inspect the Yorkshire flowers, though sadly, the weather seems to have broken and it’s quite chilly again. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely week, wherever you are.
To all those who disapprove of dogs on the bed, please avert your eyes! Triar was not only on mine this morning, but IN it, as you can see. It’s not as cold now as it was in midwinter, but he’s still much better than a hot water bottle in the depths of the night.
I am finally moving on from the horrors of the Farm of Doom. It has taken me all week to do the paperwork, but I sent the last lot in late yesterday afternoon and felt lighter for it. I will likely get it back for amendments (my new Veterinary Advisor is lovely, but the opposite of slapdash) but the hardest work is over. I have sorted out all the photos into different folders for different dates.
I think it will go to court, so I will have to prepare a statement, but I can face those images now, even if some still pain me to the point of tears. There’s always a great big Why? in my head as I contemplate these things. How did it come to that point? But I guess that’s also something I hope never to know, because I hope I would never reach the point where I could neglect a living animal without reaching out for help or ensuring someone else steps in, but surely everyone normal thinks the same?
On Wednesday, I was tired. Good sleep is still intermittent, but I went to a church meeting in the evening with the possibility of writing group afterwards. At the end of the church meeting, I decided I would drive home while it was still light. I was rewarded with a beautiful sunset as I drove back down the hill near Torthorwald and I stopped to take photos.
There was, I noticed (bottom right in the top photo) an old road sign, telling the distances to Dumfries and “Lockerby” so I took a picture of that too. It happens quite often when I stop to admire something beautiful, that I notice something else to enjoy, that I would otherwise have missed.
I was unexpectedly rewarded, last thing on Friday, with an early, negative test result (work related) which means that a large body of work I thought I was going to have to tackle next week is no longer necessary. There is still routine work booked in (another welfare follow up, but I know it won’t be harrowing) and evidence shuffling from the Farm of Doom. However, I will now (hopefully) have time to tackle a task I will enjoy much more – building towards a training module for an aspect of TB case handling.
Not sure if I’m odd, but I love writing Standard Operating Procedures or instructions that are clear to follow. It seems intuitive to me to explain things, step by step, in easy to understand language.
I had the experience in Norway of taking many courses and doing a lot of training. There are few things more frustrating than having to go back and listen to three minutes of semi-comprehensible speil attached to a PowerPoint slide, over and over to catch the last few phrases that were quickly slurred and not written on the screen. It means that training that should take twenty minutes, takes an hour. Working in a language that is not your mother tongue has many unconsidered complications.
As we have many new starting vets who have (as I did) done slaughterhouse work until their language skills improved enough to do something a bit more challenging, I think understanding that will be very useful.
Anyway, I suppose I should get up and do some painting. The new bedrooms are not going to paint themselves and work has stopped until I do them. Hopefully this weekend should see that particular job completed. I’ll leave you with a couple of shots from Blackbird Lane. Have a lovely week all.
I’m hopelessly short of photos at the moment. Sometimes it’s been because of the weather, but for now it’s because my life has shrunk, I think. For a while, I was forever away on courses, or sent out west. I will expend what extra energy I have to spare this weekend on painting rather than exploring. I feel, in some ways, that everything in life it at a standstill. There are some hurdles I need to get over, and once I do things will start to move again.
One of the hurdles is the building work upstairs. I asked to paint before there were skirting boards and wooden windowsills and lights and plug holes, because it would be easier, and it is. But what that means is, that until I have painted, all those things can’t be done. Once they are, and I’ve got real rooms back again, and all the workmen have left, I can start to clear my bedroom. I’ve been living in a room that’s clogged with inaccessible boxes for almost a year now. I don’t want it to become a way of life.
And then there’s work. I have started to call my nightmare farm, the Farm of Doom. My fellow blogger Penny, who writes the Walking Woman blog (https://icelandpenny.com) has commented now and then on the presence (or usually its return after an absence) of my sense of humour. When I’m rested and well, it comes to the fore. It never really leaves, but it seeps more into my writing. Black humour is how I deal with the negative stuff that comes with a career as a vet.
Anyway, I’m hoping to put the Farm of Doom behind me shortly. My line manager offered to take me off the case on Thursday afternoon, but frankly, I want to take it to some kind of conclusion so I can get closure. That will be another river crossed. The offer came in the wake of me telling him I had been suffering from nightmares, to the point where I had phoned a counsellor on Tuesday.
My workplace has twenty four hour counselling available and I felt a bit apprehensive as I picked up the phone, but it was actually a huge relief. I haven’t really talked to anyone, beyond the absolutely necessary people working on the case, what I saw that day. That’s partly down to confidentiality, but even where I could talk to colleagues, I mostly haven’t. They don’t need to share my horrors. Having checked the counsellor had her own counseling available, I poured most of it out, though something still held me back from mentioning the worst detail. I don’t know why, but perhaps nobody else needs that image stuck in their head.
Yesterday, I talked to someone from Safety as I have reported my experience with the Farm of Doom as a “near miss” or whatever the terminology is. She discussed my most recent absence from work with me and told me I should record it as work related, even though I have a pre-existing condition, the fatigue was caused by my experience at work. She will advise that the three days I had off should not count towards my absence record. She doesn’t control HR, unfortunately. She has been arguing for years with them, about the awful wording in the formal absence warning letter, but she can certainly give advice, and as my line manager generally follows such advice, hopefully they can make things better for now.
I guess the other big hurdle is the NHS waiting list. I spoke again to the GP who tried to bring things forward for me, but he had no success, so the expected date for an appointment is still July. In the meantime, I will continue monitoring myself, looking for patterns and trying to work out triggers. I was sent a course about BSE in cows recently and was reminded of how similar my symptoms are to theirs, but I know I don’t have Creutzfeldt–Jakob because, if I had, I’d be long dead.
On that cheery note, I shall take my leave! Even if I’m barely going out, there’s a lovely view from my garden and Blackbird Lane will be waiting for me. The daffodil at the top of the page was taken there. The birds were singing when I stepped put into the garden this morning, and a beautiful day was dawning. I’ll leave you with a couple of photographs of that! Have a lovely week all.
A Vet’s Life 