I saw the Northern Lights from the plane. It’s the first time I’ve experienced this, but the pilot announced, just as we’d passed over Harstad, that he could see a great Aurora and that he was going to turn the cabin lights off so we could see. Apparently it was best on the left side, and I was on the right, but it was nice to see it. He also correctly predicted we wouldn’t see it after we landed in Tromsø due to cloud cover. The most amazing thing for me though, was that my friend Shirley was outside in Sorreisa watching the lights, when she saw my plane passing overhead. I wouldn’t actually arrive in Sørreisa until the evening after, but she was kind of with me before I even landed back on Norwegian soil.
It was deeply moving to arrive back. Because I lived in Norway for 15 years, it is somehow home, while quite different from the UK. The first thing I did, when I was through passport control, was to buy a hotdog wrapped in bacon. I didn’t apply the sauce very attractively, as you can see in the photo at the top of the page, but it was delicious.
After that, I caught a bus to get over to the Pingvin Hotel, where I was staying. The buses ran, reassuringly, until very late at night. There were signs like on the London Underground, telling me when the buses would arrive, and signs on the bus, telling me which stop was next, which made the whole process quite straightforward.
I had forgotten that the fast boat, that goes to Finnsnes from Tromsø and back, runs at different times at the weekends, so I was later getting to Shirley than I had thought, and will have to spend a night in Tromsø on the way back as well, but that is no great hardship. Staying in hotels up here has a wonderful familiarity about it too. I stayed away from home relatively often as a Veterinary Inspector. Triggering all those memories feels nice. Nobody does hygge/koselig like the Scandinavians.
Speaking of koselig, I had a lovely day in Tromsø.
So now I am in Sørreisa. It’s wet and windy and dark for much of the day. There’s snow forecast for next week, but there’s nothing I have to do. Living alone, I have to make myself cook, but with Shirley and Kai here, I’ve cooked or baked something nearly every day. They’re vegetarian, which means I don’t centre the meals around meat. We’ve had season pudding (like crunchy stuffing) with roast parsnips and delectable mushroom gravy, made from wine and stock and cream. We’ve eaten stuffed tomatoes, filled with breadcrumbs, onions, herbs and cheese, then creamy mushroom pasta with garlic bread. Today we’re having pizza, but I will cook a lentil and tomato sauce, to make lasagne tomorrow. And yesterday, while Shirley was out, I baked a light, fat free walnut sponge, and filled it with cream, laced with coffee. Delicious.
I have visited old friends from work and hope to see more this week. I want to go do some shopping and maybe buy some Christmas presents. Today will unfold as every day does. Chatting over coffee. A walk with the dogs. Home for breakfast. Kai likes to watch Heartbeat every morning and I sit and watch it with him. It’s a nice, gentle start to the day.
I’ll leave you with some photos taken on our morning dog walks. When they’re not swathed in mist, the tops of the hills are already white, though the snow line is advancing and retreating. Today, we were skipping between rainy squalls and the distant sound was strewn with white horses. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.
This week, I had my first parmo. Eat like a local is something I feel like we should always aim for, or at least, when traveling, we should try local delicacies. (NB perhaps don’t try this in Thailand unless you want a burnt mouth). I haven’t yet tried the local delicacy in Dumfries, which along traditional Scottish carb on carb lines, is a tattie scone (potato scone) in a roll. I must correct that when I get back, but for now, while working in Middlesbrough, I have tried, and loved, their local traditional food, which is the parmo.
So what is a parmo? The one at the top of the page closely resembles that Scottish favourite, pizza and chips, does it not? That may be partly because, on the spur of the moment, I chose a pepperoni version. As a purist, I will return and try the original version, which is, in fact, a flattened, breaded chicken escalope with béchamel sauce, with melted cheese on top. It should, I understand, be served with a small side salad and garlic sauce, as well as the chips. I’m not surprised by its popularity because it was delicious. Something to look forward to when I return.
But for now, I am on holiday. On Thursday, after work (they let me get away early, thank goodness) I drove up to Central Scotland, to drop Triar off at Valerie’s house. Yesterday morning, I drove to Dumfries. Several weeks ago, I wrote that I was about to go to a ceilidh and had tried to pack everything for the next six weeks or so, which involved going from the ceilidh, to Mum and Dad’s, then on to Middlesbrough, then to Norway. I thought I’d got away with it, but earlier this week, Booking.com told me they were about to charge me for my hotel in Norway and I thought, “I’ll change that to my Norwegian credit card, to save any charges for currency exchange,” which is when I realised my Norwegian credit card was safely at home in a drawer. I’m glad I did find out, because having got some overpaid tax back, I actually have holiday money to spend. Not that I’m expecting to go out much, but if I want to buy anything, it makes things easier. Well assuming I can remember the PIN for a card I haven’t used for a year…
Hmmm… I seem to have rambled, but what I was saying was that yesterday morning, I drove to Dumfries, then in the afternoon, on to Settle, from where I will take a train today, to Manchester Airport and from there, hopefully will fly to Tromsø. I’m staying there overnight in the hotel attached to the hospital, then tomorrow morning, all being well, I shall take the fast boat to Finnsnes, where I will be met by Shirley and Kai for the last leg of my journey to Sørreisa. It’s all a bit exhausting, truth be told. It would have been more relaxing to stay in a hotel overnight near the airport and park in one of the long stays, but locumming isn’t as profitable as you might think (my last paycheck showed that I received less than half of what the practice payed for me, after fees and taxes) and not being 100% certain of ongoing work on my return (there’s no sick pay, for example) I didn’t feel secure enough to blow over £200, when the train fare was only a quarter of that.
I really need to start planning better for my complicated holiday arrangements though. I took Friday off, but there was still an awful lot of driving, all of which is going to happen in reverse, on my return, only with even less time, because I’ve booked my car in for its MOT in Dumfries on the Monday. I fly back to Manchester on Saturday afternoon. I could possibly still change the date, but I’m not sure how long it will take for any work required on the car, and I need to get back to work, so on it goes.
Still, I’m feeling very cheery. I’m still loving locumming and I’m about to go see Shirley. Yr.no says it’s raining all week in Sørreisa and getting down almost to freezing later in the week, but that will just allow more time for baking and perhaps writing. I will miss Triar, but Bailey, Ulva and the cats will be there to keep me company.
I’ll leave you with a couple of autumn pictures from my walks with Triar. We discovered a beautiful, overgrown woodland graveyard this week. I tried to photograph an angel with an ivy halo growing around her head, and the dappled sunlight flitting across her face, but couldn’t really capture her properly. Still, as always, thanks for reading and have a good week all.
APHA have finally offered me my job back. I now have a very formal e-mail, asking me to report to APHA on 6th January 2027 and ask for… well my old line manager. I know, it’s the civil service and everything is by the book, but given I asked to go back only two months after I’d left, the whole thing is (more than) faintly ridiculous.
In the meantime, I have been asked to stay on at PDSA Middlesbrough until the end of December, which is pleasing me hugely. It’s always nice to be appreciated and, given I’ve only recently returned to small animal work after a ten year hiatus, it feels especially good. When I’m consulting, I still sometimes quail slightly when I look at the next appointment and it sounds complicated, but now I click on it anyway and get on with it. I still run my treatment plan past another of the vets now and then, but go to them with that plan formed and not for help in forming it. I was on ops on Wednesday and, having operated on one bitch with a pyometra, I volunteered to do a second one that came in the afternoon. I’ve come a long way from the fearful early days after the post-op bleeding spay in Glasgow.
My current accommodation is as quirky, in its way, as the caravan, however it does benefit from a flushing toilet and shower, that don’t involve going outside and into another building. When I booked it, I assumed it was an apartment attached to a bar, but it’s actually a garage conversion on the side of a house in an unassuming housing estate. There’s no sitting area, but there’s effectively a box bed with a TV at one end. Behind a thick curtain, there’s a fridge freezer and a microwave, so cooking is limited, but the shower is excellent, with enough water pressure to comfortably use the large, rainforest shower head – a rare enough treat in the UK!
Last night and today, we’re on the edge of a yellow met office storm warning, so yesterday morning, Triar and I went to Redcar to walk along the beach. This time, I remembered the essential ball.
To my mind, the most striking thing about Redcar (other than that rather wonderful view behind Triar) was that, even at this time of year, the car parks still charged money, from the one extreme end of the promenade to the other. I tried to pay, but the machine wouldn’t take card payments. It demanded coins, and I didn’t have any on me. Fortunately, I managed to find a small car park on Fisherman’s Square that was free on Saturday and Sunday, unlike all the surrounding streets, where only Sunday was free.
The small town of Staithes had been recommended to me to visit, so we drove down the coat from Redcar. There, there was only a paying car park at the top of a hill, with cars for access being the only vehicles allowed down into the centre. Had I had more energy, I would have done it, but I was already tired from the beach walk and the blustery weather was already starting to close in, so I bought some fish and chips at the Excelsior Fisheries (half an hour free parking allowed outside) and then drove to a nearby layby to eat it. I was surprised to be offered “scraps” (extra bits of deep fried batter) with my chips. Usually, in Scotland, you have to ask. Anyway, it was good, hearty fish and chips, cooked in beef dripping and very tasty indeed.
The coastal road leading south towards Staithes
I will probably return to Staithes and walk down to the harbour another day. We also passed through a small town called Loftus, that looked interesting. I’m glad I’m going to be coming back here, so I can spend more time exploring. Redcar is only fifteen minutes drive, so assuming I can find somewhere to park, it would be lovely to take Triar there for a short run, sometimes, after work. He’s being very good and deserves more interesting walking than I’ve currently been giving him.
By this time next weekend, I hope to be waking up in Tromsø. I’m off to visit Shirley for a couple of weeks and I’m very much looking forward to being back in Arctic Norway. Current plans include lots of baking and making apple crumble. Anything else will be weather dependent, but one thing I do know is that there won’t be many hours of daylight left. Winter is coming!
And for now, I’m hoping to enjoy a quiet day in my cosy apartment while the storm rages outside. I bought plenty of provisions yesterday, though we seem to be quite sheltered here, so I should be able to take Triar outside shortly. I’ll leave you with a couple of photos of the quiet graveyard, where I take Triar (respectfully on the paths) for a walk sometimes during my lunch break. Hopefully the storm won’t take down all the autumn leaves, because I’ve been enjoying the beautiful colours.
It’s been a pleasant week in the Dales for me. I came down to take Dad for a doctor’s appointment on Monday, not knowing for sure when my next locum would begin. I’d been offered October at the PDSA in Middlesbrough, so I wasn’t sure how soon in October it would begin. Happily for me, it starts on Tuesday next week, so I’ve been wandering round Settle, drinking in the peace and beauty.
Th doctor dad saw was a haematologist. On top of various other problems, Dad’s red blood cell count and platelets are low, which means finding energy to move is very difficult. The doctor recommended taking a bone marrow biopsy, with the suggestion he might be able to use the hormone, haemapoetin. It’s a hormone that stimulates the bone marrow to work harder, thus hopefully resolving some of the problems. But to do that, he needed to do the biopsy first. O asked him if there was any chance of it being done this week, while I was down. He wasn’t optimistic, but happily, as I drove out of the hospital grounds, Dad got a phone call to say he’d been booked in on Wednesday.
So we went back on Wednesday and Dad let me come into the room for the procedure. He then proudly told the nurse and doctor I was a vet. I must admit, I was very touched by his obvious pride in me. Sometimes I forget what an achievement it was. The doctor was efficient in taking the sample and the nurse that accompanied us was reassuring throughout and I was glad for Dad, that it was done so quickly. Results will take a couple of weeks.
Other than that, I have been enjoying having company. I enjoy locumming and meeting new people, but a week of familiarity and family in between is a lovely contrast. The weather hasn’t been bad either, so Triar and I have been wandering a lot. The first walk, I was following the road, looking over the rooftops, when I passed the gateway that leads to Castleberg Crag and was tempted in. It was a beautiful evening and I thought the sunset might look even better from higher up the hillside. A short, steep walk was made more interesting, when Triar decided he was enjoying himself so much that it was time for zoomies. Still we made it to the flagpole in the still, evening air and it was definitely worth the effort.
I was also engaged by the wonderful sunset between the rooftops and reflecting through the narrow lanes on another evening. The picture at the top of the page was taken on the same day. I think there’s rain streaking from the dark clouds above, through that deep orange glow.
Another evening stroll took us up past the Pinfold (historically used in medieval and later times to impound stray livestock and animals until owners paid a fine to retrieve them) and out into the fields beyond. More wonderful views over Ribblesdale and the town.
Mum and I went for a Country Harvest lunch yesterday. I had a Brie, bacon and cranberry toastie, which was predictably delicious.
And last night, as the evening advanced and the autumn darkness fell over Settle, I took a couple of photos of the buildings under the streetlights as well as a shot of a cosy window display that I found irres. I will leave you with those as well as saying thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.
Well it’s a dreich morning here in Paisley. For the first time since I’ve been here, the streets are wet. Nonetheless, they are setting up market stalls in the square outside the flat and Triar and I will go explore those later. We will also be going out for breakfast at Harry’s Fuel Bar, a café just the other side of Gilmore Street railway station. We went there last Saturday before heading to Dumfries and had the protein pancakes and possibly the most daringly overfilled (but not spilled) latte, both of which which were delicious!
I took the photo at the top of the page last night, mostly because one of the most outstanding features I’ve noticed as I’ve been walking around Paisley is the number of churches. In addition to the cathedral, there’s an abbey, and seemingly churches of all denominations and none. Some of the buildings have been repurposed – like the PACE Youth Theatre at the top of School Wynd, but there are a lot of beautiful buildings, which I will probably try to capture at some point. In the photo above , you can see the top of the PACE building on the right and there are spires of two other churches also visible, just in one small area.
Although I mention Paisley in the title, I actually spent more time this week in Dumfries. I didn’t get the chest of drawers put together, but I did mow the lawn and get the bedroom partially cleared. I’ve been living with hundreds of boxes and a floor-drobe for most of the past two years, so it’s taken some sorting. Next time I go down, I will find the energy to complete the job.
On the way down, I got stuck in a country traffic jam, which looked like this.
It was a lovely contrast between the city life and the countryside I spend more time in. I had three whole days down there and I wanted to make the most of the time off as well as trying to keep up the number of daily steps I have been doing with walking Triar from a top floor apartment and walking to work. I didn’t quite make it, but we did get out for some lovely strolls.
The first was an old favourite – the path that leads through the woods beside Castle Loch in Lochmaben. I think I’ve shown some of the wood carvings from the forest before, but this heron carving looked particularly serene among the greenery.
It was cool and shady among the trees, but sun baked whenever we emerged, and filled with summer flowers.
On Tuesday we walked down Blackbird Lane and around in a circuit nestled in some scrubby fields near home. There were flowers there too and it was overgrown with summer.
Wednesday saw us going a bit further afield, towards Dalbeattie, where we stopped at a little car park beside Flycatcher Trail. This was another lovely wander through woodland and up a hill, from where we caught a brief glimpse of a lovely view.
After our walk, I checked Google for dog friendly cafés. It came up with Brambles just outside Dalbeattie, so we made our way there. The gardens were amazing and we sat in a courtyard surrounded by flowers.
I’m trying to eat low carb, which was unfortunate as they had lots of delicious sounding sandwiches and paninis, but I went for the 5 breakfast items of your choice, which was very well cooked and filled with thick cut bacon, tasty sausages and a perfectly fried egg. I will go back though, to try something else. They were incredibly welcoming towards Triar, which is always lovely.
The past two days at the PDSA have been very enjoyable. The staff have all made me feel very welcome and they have a lot of laughs in between the hard work. Again, I was neutering lots of animals. For those who don’t know, the PDSA (People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals) is a charity that provides veterinary care for those on benefits. They do a great job caring for animals that otherwise might not get treatment.
And now, Harry’s Fuel Bar should be open, so I am going to head down, see what they are selling in the market and then over for some breakfast. I will leave you with another view from last night’s walk. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a lovely week.
It’s been a lovely week with John. One of the things I never considered, when I fell joyfully into motherhood, was how lonely it could be when they all went away. Mostly, I have adjusted to a more solitary life, but that unique love never goes away.
We spent the first half of the week in Settle, staying in a rental close to Mum and Dad. It was a gentle week with a lot of cafés and coffee. It’s not very exotic, but I had this delicious ham and chutney sandwich at Country Harvest, which is a few miles outside Settle.
The bread was perfect. White and soft with a tasty crust that still allowed the flavour of the thick slices of country ham and generously spread butter to come through. I followed it up with a vanilla and strawberry scone with jam and cream. I actually shared half and half with John, who ordered the most wonderful lemon meringue pie. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of that, but if you can imagine a tangy, lemon tart, piled unfeasibly high with clouds of meringue, you’ll pretty much be there. The scone was delicious as well. I’d be hard pressed to say which I preferred.
John’s friend Ben came to stay over Tuesday night, which was also his birthday. He lives in a yurt in the Lake District and plays in a band, who have just finished doing seven music festivals over the summer. It was great to have him stay and Triar thought he was lovely too!
We went to Rind, which is a pizza restaurant attached to The Courtyard Dairy. The Courtyard is a wonderful cheese shop, which is becoming internationally renowned for its amazing selection of cheese. It’s also a great experience as they encourage you to try slivers of cheese, many of them local, but others sourced from around the world. We went in a couple of times and I still have some of the cheese in my fridge as we didn’t get through it all.
As you would expect, the pizzas in Rind are amazing too, topped with some very special cheeses. I should perhaps have gone for one of the more unusual cheese combinations. Last time, I had blue cheese, honey and walnut, a combo I later introduced to Lara’s family on my weekend in Northern Ireland, but the chorizo and honey sounded so delicious that I ordered that, and shared half and half with John, who ordered a cheese rarebit pizza. They were, of course, wood fired and wonderful and I definitely want to go back!
The original plan was that John and I would come up to Dumfries and he would stay in my almost complete spare bedroom, but it wasn’t to be. John and his partner Yoana run a small business creating websites and a new client rang him during the week. Her website had been hacked and the person who created it was no longer available, so she wanted John to help. The old website couldn’t be saved and the hackers were getting quite unpleasant, demanding client information, so John spent a considerable amount of time creating a new, temporary site for her to use while they set a new one up.
It was complex as her old emails needed to be transferred to the new site, but as the whole thing was time sensitive (and inevitably stressful for the lady whose business was under threat) it couldn’t really wait. Alongside that, on the morning we were meant to drive North, we also wanted to fit in a trip to Leeds to get something John had left at a friend’s house. By the time the work and trip were done, it was four in the afternoon and we decided we would try to find somewhere more local to stay instead.
We really landed on our feet as we found an apartment above The Railway bar in Cononley, just beyond Skipton. It was a lovely flat, restfully decorated in Scandinavian style, with Yorkshire touches, which made me feel very much at home. The bar was lovely too and having it just downstairs was very tempting on those two long, hot days.
I took John to the airport yesterday morning and he got home safely, as did I. Donna and I had a cuppa in the afternoon and (generous as ever) she invited me back for the evening. Triar enjoyed the visit too and spent some time in her paddling pool.
Next week, I’m off on a new adventure. I am going to be locumming at the PDSA in Glasgow. I’m genuinely excited as it’s in one of my old stomping grounds. I worked there for Vets Now, back in the early 2000s, so I am familiar with the building, even though I assume the workforce will have changed entirely as that is now twenty years ago. It’s mostly doing surgery, which I love, but I will also hopefully do some consulting days, which will get me back into the swing of small animal work.
I shall leave you with some pictures of the annual Settle Flowerpot Festival, which is just gearing up. There seemed to be a lot of new exhibits this year and the people of Settle are getting more and more inventive. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely week, wherever you are.
Last weekend started with a lunch in The Bank – a restaurant in Dumfries that sells small plates. One of mine was loaded fries with Parmesan, truffle oil and garlic mayonnaise, which is at the too of the page. As well as those, I had some delicious scallops with a slice of bacon and a cauliflower purée, which perhaps was very marginally overpowering for serving with the subtle flavour of the scallops, but which still tasted almost as good as it looked.
Staying with the seafood theme, I also went for calamari. Again, the sauce was a little too piquant for the calamari rings, so I ate them alone (delicious) and dipped the less loaded fries instead.
I also tried some delicious mushrooms and some Katsu cauliflower and despite the marginally mismatched sauces, I will definitely be going back.
After that, Donna, I and several friends went and joined a crowd of bouncing middle aged women for a singalong showing of Mama Mia. Bring your own bottle was encouraged, so I took along some Swedish beer. By the end, I think most of us were singing.
A couple of days at home saw me quickly strimming the lawn and assembling a bed (thanks to Donna and Will for helping thread the bed base up the narrow staircase) before heading down to Yorkshire, to meet up with John.
We’re staying in Settle, where the annual Flowerpot Festival is just gearing up. The house we’ve rented is interesting. I’m in the front room at the moment and feel as if I’m sitting in a Jane Austen period house. There’s a wonderful, threadbare rug on the floorboards and faded books on the mantelpiece, propped between an old flat iron and a brown earthenware jar. Milton’s poems mingle with Enid Blyton’s, A Story Party at Green Hedges. Guess that one didn’t have the same ring to it as The Magic Faraway Tree!
I’m low carbing again, which is easy at home, but more challenging when eating out. Usually, I end up comparing Caesar Salad at every restaurant I visit, but this time I’ve been exploring Ploughman’s lunches and taking the bread home for someone else to eat. This was yesterday’s offering at a cafe in Halifax.
On the job front, I’m waiting to hear back from two possible locum positions and also hoping that it won’t take too much longer to find out whether I might get my old job back. One of the locum positions involves bashing on with lots of surgery, which is right up my street. The other has a bit of horse and farm work, but mostly small animal. That would also be a great challenge. I haven’t been in small animal practice since 2016 and that was in Norway, so it would be interesting to climb back into a set of scrubs and see how I get on.
So, as we go into Monday morning, I will be hoping to find out how the next few weeks will be spent. Maybe next week, there will be a progress report, but for now, I’m going to leave you with a few Flowerpots. Thanks for reading and have a good week all!
I handed in my notice at Inchcolm yesterday. It hasn’t been an easy decision. There are times when I can see that I could love this job, but before I began, the agreement was that I would be working from Dumfries, with a day in Dunfermline once a week. After two and a half months, I’m still living at Valerie’s, working full time away from home, and I don’t feel the communication and trust are there for me to work remotely. I could push for it, but I don’t think it would be easy. At two and a half months in, I feel this should be the honeymoon phase, when I have begun to find my feet, understand what I am aiming for and built up some rapport and understanding with everyone.
It’s wonderful how things work out sometimes. Just at the time when I decided I was going to leave, John called to say that he was buying tickets to come over. I’m still in probation, so I only have one week’s notice. John has ten days over here, so I will have the flexibility to spend time with him, whatever his plans are.
I don’t have a new job lined up, but there seem to be many possibilities opening up and I am looking forward, either to returning to something I’ve done before, or trying out something new. I’ve been in discussion with Dean at APHA. I’ve had a chat with Kelly, who runs a recruitment agency and is looking for locum positions for me, and next week, I will be speaking to someone from Hallmark, who fill temporary government positions at short notice. I feel that the future is wide open.
I’m not sure whether I have mentioned my new phase of Bible reading. Last year, I read the whole Bible for the first time. I was using an app that gives three different portions of the Bible each day, two Old Testament and one New Testament. While it was an interesting exercise, my mind found it difficult to keep track as I moved between the portions, so this year, I am reading the first of the three portions daily and reading around it, so that I can follow better and understand more. Until yesterday, I was reading Judges, which describes a turbulent period in Israel’s history.
At the lowest point, in Judges 19, a man is travelling with his concubine (a kind of secondary wife) and stays overnight in a stranger’s house. A bunch of marauding men demand that the man comes out to have sex with them, and rather than defending the household, he throws his concubine out to them. The marauders rape and kill her and leave her on the doorstep.
I opened the app this morning, expecting more horrible tales and found instead, that I have moved onto the book of Ruth, which is already one of my favourite stories in the Old Testament. When I came to it the first time round, last year, I found the source of the wonderful, “Intreat me not to leave thee,” passage that I had known from reading My Friend Flicka as a child. This time round, I can see the comfort Ruth found in following God. I’m almost afraid to write that I am also finding comfort in following and trusting in God, as professing faith is uncomfortable to me, and frankly, I’m afraid to lose friends, but here I am, doing it anyway.
Moving on to an easier topic, I have been watching the latest series of Clarkson’s Farm with Valerie. If you haven’t seen it and don’t want spoilers, you probably shouldn’t read this part.
I haven’t watched all the series religiously, but have seen enough to think that Clarkson’s Farm speaks wonderfully for farmers. He shows the hardships of farming, the ups and downs, and the sheer resilience farmers need in current times as they navigate a world of rules and red tape, of low prices , conglomerates and cheap foreign imports.
The end of the series was desperately sad though, as one of his cows was tested for tuberculosis and came back twice as an inconclusive reactor. This meant that she was taken for slaughter, despite being in calf with twins. When she was taken to the abattoir, they didn’t find anything, so sent back a report saying, “no visible lesions.”
I was slightly frustrated at that part. I’m not sure what support Jeremy and his crew received from their APHA vet, but they misunderstood that report to mean that the cow didn’t have TB, which isn’t actually the case. I’m not sure how it works in England as the rules are slightly different in the various parts of the UK, but in Scotland, there would still be further testing, to see whether they could grow the bacteria that cause TB, despite finding no lesions.
And that is because, “no visible lesions,” doesn’t mean the cow didn’t have TB. It means that she did not have TB that was advanced enough for them to find lesions, which can take a long time to form, even when the bacteria are there. The fact that they had a number of other cattle with borderline results suggests to me that, even if none of the animals are actively infected, it’s likely there has been some contact with TB infection, because the skin test they did is an indicator of an immune response.
Valerie asked the same question that Jeremy Clarkson asked, which was why couldn’t they wait until she’d calved. If she had no TB lesions in her udder (those form very late, and would mean the cow would be very infectious) she wouldn’t be that likely to pass TB on to her calves, if they were removed quite quickly. However the cow is meant to be kept in strict isolation (which is already hard on her as cattle are herd animals) and they had already shown a film of her escaping. If she was indeed infected, the longer she is there, the more likely it is that she will spread the bacteria into the environment and on to other animals, including wildlife.
The reality is that, despite finding no visible lesions, that the cow might have been infected. The skin test is not very reliable in that it can sometimes miss infected animals. However, where the test is positive, it’s very highly likely there is some level of infection, even if they didn’t find anything to confirm it. In that way, it’s actually a very accurate test, when done right. If anything, vets are likely to err on the side of not sending away cattle unless it’s a definite reactor, which might be one of the reasons TB is rife in England and Wales.
And that is the reason why, after a reactor is found and culled, all the other animals in the herd will need to be tested again after 60 days. That will give them a much better idea of where they stand. TB can be in a herd for years without showing up on tests, and that is another reason it is so difficult to eradicate.
Jeremy also asked the very reasonable question, why are they not able to vaccinate. That one is also easy to answer, in technical terms, if not ethical and personal. It’s about international trade. Various diseases are classed as Notifiable Diseases and that designation is not a UK thing, it is agreed internationally. Notifiable Diseases present a risk, either to human life, to animal welfare, or economically. TB can spread between animals and people. Bird flu can too, but it is so nasty that the birds really suffer. Foot and mouth is another Notifiable Disease and that one doesn’t spread to people, but it is incredibly infectious and causes huge suffering to the animals. It has an economic impact as suffering animals don’t eat, and thus don’t grow or produce much milk.
So back to the vaccination question. The fact is that the skin test, which is the international standard test that is used, cannot tell between a cow that is vaccinated and a cow that is infected. If the UK decided unilaterally to vaccinate, it would prevent a huge amount of international trade, that would cost farmers and the country billions. They are trying to develop tests, but it is taking years and the scientific proof would need to be good enough to convince the groups that make the international rules. If you are interested in this topic, there’s a lot of good information here: TB Hub
So much as I love Clarkson’s Farm and think it does a lot to highlight how tough farming is, Irish someone had explained the TB situation to him more thoroughly. I have had to deal with farmers with TB outbreaks and I know how devastating it is, but the implication that the process is entirely unreliable and unreasonable is unfair. It’s a complex and nuanced problem and I’m not sure that the UK’s approach is working, but it’s being done with the intention to improve the situation. It’s far from perfect, but it wasn’t (in my opinion) unreasonable to remove the cow, even though I’m sure that was painful.
Anyway, this turned out to be quite long and I haven’t even touched on last weekend, when Valerie’s son Kyle came up with his lovely fiancée Candice. It was amazing to see Kyle. The last time I saw him, he was a teenager. We spend Saturday exploring the area where he and Candice are having a ceilidh in September (I’ve been invited!!!) and looking at campsites where guests might stay. We ended up on the banks of Loch Lomond, which was beautiful. Val and Kyle decided to take a paddle.
Anyway, I am very honoured to be invited to the celebration and I wish Kyle and Candice all the best.
I took a few more photos of Loch Lomond while I was there, so I shall leave you with those. Thanks for reading and have a good week all!
It’s been a good week. I stayed in Dumfries last weekend and, on Monday morning, I visited a farm that was only half an hour away. Ben accompanied me on the visit. It’s a farm that has just moved over to pullet rearing, so taking on chicks that will ultimately become laying hens. They come to the farm shortly after hatching and will be there until they’re around 15 weeks old. Then they will move on to a new farm. Newly hatched chicks are gorgeous and these were too. They were in a Landmeco rearing system. They are currently running around the area which will eventually be a raised platform for them to jump on and off. For now, what will eventually be ramps to run up and down, are raised up as fences, so they are in a small, raised enclosure, with heat lamps and food and drinkers. By the time they are 15 weeks, they will have the whole barn. They really do grow fast!
On Wednesday , following up on another case from two weeks ago, I managed to get hold of the vet that works in an abattoir in Yorkshire, where a client with layers sent his flock after the end of their laying period. There had been higher mortality than he was used to (though he was still within normal levels) and I wanted to see if we could pinpoint what was happening. Unfortunately there was no stand-out cause highlighted, though in another way that’s good, because most of his birds were healthy. Having spoken to Naomi, I have recommended to him that he might need to give them extra calcium and vitamin D support later in their lay. Creating eggs, especially at high levels, uses a lot of calcium. Anyway, I will speak to him next week about what we found (or didn’t) and take it from there. I will do another visit when he gets new hens in, which probably won’t be until September. There’s a rhythm to poultry practice, and cycles for the clients which will be the heartbeat of much of my work.
I was due a visit near York yesterday and Ben suggested I could travel South on Thursday, so I arranged a visit to the APHA lab at Penrith to meet the vets who will be doing some of the pathology for my clients. We do a lot of post mortems in the practice (and on the farms too) but sometimes it’s important to get an outside opinion, especially in difficult or rapidly evolving cases. You perhaps have already picked up on the fact that a lot of my job is finding out why chickens or hens are dying. Very often, there are no signs of illness, or they go downhill so fast that, by the time you can see something is up, it’s already too late.
My patch is to be in Cumbria, so it makes sense for my clients to take samples to Penrith. There’s also a pathologist working there who spent a long time in poultry practice. I think he also gave a talk at the Poultry Health and Welfare course I attended last year. I will need to double check my notes. Anyway, it was good to meet them, have a coffee and see around the lab. Having a wider network of specialists I can talk to, whose knowledge is complementary to mine is something I am aiming for. The more I learn, the better I can serve my clients and help their birds to have a better life.
Friday’s visit was to more pullet chicks. The visit went well. Unlike Monday’s farm, where the farmers are just starting out with pullets, this was a farm with an experienced manager, though the sheds were older, which can bring its own problems. The guidance there was more about technicalities such as reducing the humidity in one of the sheds, which is at the wetter end of the farm. Like us, birds feel the heat more when the air is damp and humid. More ventilation is usually the answer, but it has to be balanced because the birds shouldn’t be in a draft. Building good barns is a very skilled operation.
As regular readers will know, I’m still based mostly in Dunfermline at the moment, though the aim has always been for me to return to Dumfries and work from home. There are a few barriers to that, the main one remaining being that my laptop still can’t access the practice database. Nonetheless, things are moving on, and for Friday’s visit, I drove the practice van instead of my car. I got to the farm okay, having basically ignored the screen in the van’s central console, that was asking me if I wanted to know more and set up an account. Rather than trying to do it as I left the farm (hardly good to be found at the end of the road, trying to work out how to use the equipment) I decided to stop for some lunch along the way and try after I’d eaten.
I stopped at a cafe called G&T Ice Creams, but when I asked about ordering food, I was told the lunchtime service was over and I now had a choice of coffee and cakes, or ice cream. With Fat Friday in mind, I decided on a lunch of Brownie Sundae and did not regret my choice at all.
It was only when I got back into the van, that I accepted it was time to bite the bullet and explore the van’s interface. I started out with the tutorials, which didn’t seem that helpful, so I moved on to setting up a profile. It asked me to connect my phone, so I toggled the Bluetooth on my Samsung work phone (another piece of equipment I’m still trying to work out) and paired them. To my delight, the screen then paired with my phone and the Google navigation map was suddenly there, on the screen in the van.
I had managed to switch from Classic FM to Smooth Radio in the morning and for a few minutes, I drove blissfully through the heart of the Dales guided by an easy to follow map, with Berlin’s Take My Breath Away soothing my ears. It was lovely until I glanced at the dashboard to check my speed and saw the figure 80. For a second, I felt consternation. It was only a small road. How could I be going so fast without realising? My brain then connected the dots and worked out that my speed wasn’t the problem. The switch to my phone had somehow changed the dashboard from mph to kmph. I drove on for a few minutes, thinking I could manage. 80 was, I knew, 50mph as that was the national speed limit in Norway, but as I entered a village and it quickly moved to 40, then 20, I realised I was going to have to try to work out how to change it back.
Of course, many computer complications can be sorted out by asking Google how to fix them. Back on my trusty Apple phone (I know how to work that one) I quickly found out how to toggle from km to m, but by the time I’d done that, somehow Smooth Radio was gone and I was being offered a podcast called “Democracy Now”. This wasn’t quite the soothing background sound I was looking for. It was around this time that Eleanor (Inchcolm’s receptionist) called me and asked me if I could do a farm visit in Jedburgh on Monday. After mentally adjusting my calendar again (no point in going north, only to drive south again) I agreed and the call ended.
Eleanor then sent a message with the details, and it was at that point that the van, or maybe the Samsung, started talking to me. Its offer to read me the message didn’t go that great. After I’d agreed to hear it, it told me the message consisted only of a photo. But while it was listening, I thought I would seize the moment, so I asked it to play Smooth Radio. It agreed that it could carry out my request, but asked if I wanted Smooth Radio via Spotify or YouTube or various other channels I’d never heard of.
While I was still contemplating the idea of listening to Smooth Radio through Spotify, the conversation ended and by the time I spoke to the van (or more likely the Samsung) again, it had stopped listening. I carried on through various picturesque towns, such as Pateley Bridge and Grassington. Their narrow streets required all my concentration anyway. It was only when I passed by Airton and got out onto the open roads of the moors above Settle that I decided that, rather than trying to get Smooth Radio via Spotify, I could go directly to Spotify itself and play something I really wanted to hear.
There were some risks in that. On several occasions, while trying to adjust things, I had lost the reassuring map, but realistically at this point, I probably knew the way home anyway. And so, as I drove across the wonderful moor, with its Highland cattle and vistas over Wharfdale and Ribblesdale (I think – sounds Herriotesque and therefore good anyway) I did so, with map intact, listening to Lewis Capaldi’s, “Stay Love,” a wonderful return to form from him, that perfectly suited the scenery.
Anyway, it’s time to go now, but I will leave you with some photos from yesterday’s journey. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.
Last weekend already feels like half a lifetime ago, but last weekend, for the second time in my life, I was baptised. The first time, back when I was living in Ilkley in 1993, I felt washed clean and whole. I’d had a hard time and some bad relationships at university and it felt like a whole new start. This time, it felt more like a renewal. For years in Norway, our church attendance as a family lapsed. That is something I regret now, but it is a recurring realisation in my life that we can never go back and fix things and can only move on from where we are now. I have a chequered history, but now I have joined the Christadelphian faith and I am trying to be a better person. I know that Christianity is reviled by many in modern society, but for me it is something to hold onto in a world that is moving too quickly.
Monday was spent in Dunfermline, but on Tuesday, almost the entire Inchcolm staff decanted to Birmingham, where we had a stand at the Pig and Poultry Fair at the NEC.
If you look closely at the centre right of the photo, behind the table, you will see that we arrived with some traditional Scottish fare, as well as with a lot of leaflets and some pens that would prove to be very popular.
I knew it would be difficult representing Inchcolm, having only been with them for a few weeks, but as the two days passed, I became more comfortable in explaining the role I hoped to take and the other staff were there to answer questions about how everything worked and the full extent of the services we offer. Most of the exhibitors were offering some kind of merchandise and it became obvious that some were being sought after more than others. One of the drug companies had coveted pig and chicken balloons, another company was offering handy carrying boxes, some had fabulous food (I’m going to put in a quick shout out to Griffith’s eggs, who had a chef, who made me a delicious omelette) but it became quickly apparent that our chicken pens were one of the most popular items. Fortunately, we had a lot of them, and could keep up with all the visitors who came just for that. After the long days, we went out together for food. The first two nights we went to a pub near the house we were staying in. The food was unremarkable, though I did have a lovely waffle with ice cream and Biscoff.
On the last night though, we went to The Boat at Catherine de Barnes which was in an entirely different class. The menu was so good that it was difficult to choose, but bream has long been my favourite fish and I have no regrets in having chosen Black Bream with Crushed Lemon Potatoes and Samphire in Sriracha Mussel Butter. Delicious!
There had been some discussion about the fact that battered fish was served, in that part of the world, with skin on the fish (a travesty – surely soggifying the batter) but the bream skin was perfectly salted and fried to a delectable crispness. The potatoes were soft and succulent with no hint of dryness. They contrasted well with the mild crunch of the samphire. I followed up with a British cheese board so full that almost everyone at the table shared it. I somehow failed to take a photo, but as well as one blue cheese, two red and two white, there was quince jelly, fig relish and some very crispy cranberry and raisin crackers. I know some will think me a philistine, drinking red wine with fish, but the large glass of Rioja I had chosen went well with both courses and I finished up with Bailey’s coffee which rounded off an almost perfect night.
The house we stayed in should have been fabulous, but in truth, it was more funny than fun. I’d been told when I first joined Inchcolm about the rented house with its massage beds and projectors in every room. Add in electronic toilets with automatically lifting lids and heated seats. Add in space age showers with a multitude of knobs and functions.
Someone obviously had a whale of a time, importing electronic gear and dreaming of a futuristic abode with all mod cons. Unfortunately, they forgot the basics. I sat on my space-age toilet (mine didn’t actually work anyway – no regrets) and (am)mused on the fact that they’d forgotten to provide a toilet roll holder, so it stood in one of the shelves in the cabinet.
There were no curtains or blinds and on the third night, we couldn’t turn out the lights on the outside of the house, so I had to jam a towel over the edge of the window to keep the room dark enough to sleep. The cabinet with the toilet roll overhung the small sink so that I had to bend awkwardly to spit out my toothpaste. Still, it was clean and tidy and the beds were comfortable. Those things matter more!
Anyway I had better go. I’m going to a Eurovision night tonight and Valerie and I will be making a fox birthday cake for one of Val’s friends as it’s her birthday. Next week, I’m going to be out on the road more, so there’s plenty to look forward to.
Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.
Light switch. Once the lights were out, I didn’t touch it again… just in case!
