Tag Archives: life

Fabulous Food and Fat Friday

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The remainder of my weekend in Armagh was very pleasing. Lara and I went to the Titanic Museum in Belfast. It would have been more enjoyable if six coach parties hadn’t been trying to look at the exhibits at the same time as us, but it was still interesting. They had all the witness statements from survivors on a huge wall. I only read a couple, but would be interested to read more. I expect I can find them somewhere online, if ever I have the time and inclination simultaneously!

In the evening, Lara introduced me to her pizza oven. Rather like the rambling, Victorian house, the garden and something I want to call the Mews (a lane round to some ramshackle garages – though those belonging to Lara and Mark have been rebooted, as it were) feel like a pleasant wander through a slightly overgrown past. The neighbours garden is filled with forget-me-nots. The yard where the pizza oven resides is overlooked by vines growing up the ancient wall and an apple tree (I think) festooned with multicoloured Christmas lights.

The blue door in the photo, as you might expect, leads to a room with a drum kit and a jukebox. Up a vertical ladder, in the roof space, is a miniature cinema. What a delightful house to grow up in!

The pizzas were predictably wonderful. Lara and I had bought toppings on our way back from Belfast. I’d suggested blue cheese with walnuts and honey, so with a creamy chunk of Cambazola and a handful of nuts, this one tasted wonderful.

More contentious, though equally delicious was the chocolate pizza Lara put together for dessert. She tells me she had to perfect the technique, which involves partially cooking the base first, then adding Nutella and chocolate, cooking some more, then adding the marshmallows for a final toasting. The result was a wonderful, melting concoction, not too sweet: utterly delicious.

I returned to Airth on Sunday night with a promise that I would return. Lara is arranging a McGonagall night as a kind of Scots Poetry balance to Burns night. I agreed to do a reading, though I will probably want to go with one of the more traditional Silvery Tay poems.

Sunday night was also punctuated by an unexpected call from my new boss, Eduardo. I told him about blogging yesterday afternoon and his response was, “Make me famous!” He’s kind of the opposite if a shrinking violet, so that wasn’t too much of a surprise. He cautioned me about client confidentiality and I assured him that I understood and respect that concept completely. Anyway, back to Sunday night.

He texted me just as I was leaving the airport, asking for a chat about Cumbria. I wanted to drive back with a clear mind, so I drove all the way to the edge of Airth, then pulled into the road to Airth Castle and called him. With hindsight, I think he was hoping I would volunteer to do it myself on Monday, but I missed that nuance and we discussed possibly going together on a different day. Anyway, a few seconds after ringing off, I got a text asking me to go solo. Slightly daunting I thought, but never having been one to shy away from a challenge, I agreed to meet him in the morning at the practice to collect kit and discuss approach, then I would do the call in the afternoon.

So much for all the promised training and expected introductions. First flights are always an adventure. I looked at the chickens, then carried out some post-mortems. It involved a lot of glove changes as I was taking photographs throughout. The liver and kidneys looked very odd, but I didn’t know what that indicated. I have a lot of useful and relevant experience, but once I was finished, I had to send the pictures to my other new boss. He asked me, “Do you understand what you are seeing?” Honesty is always the best policy, so I simply said, “No.”

Apparently my distinctive photos were enough for distance diagnosis. The birds had adenovirus. Back at the office, a treatment regime was assembled and sent out, while I washed my hands on the farm and discussed the fact that I would find out about cleaning regimes (and adenovirus) and would get back to them with the information the next day.

I learned a few things that day, other than about adenovirus. The most obvious one was that medicines are sent out from the clinic at around three thirty in the afternoon, so if I want farmers to get their treatment the same day, I either need to correctly predict what I need and take it with me, or I need to complete my visit before the three thirty deadline.

I must confess that, on the way back up the road, I sighed rather as I passed Gretna and realised that, instead of the thirty minute drive home, there were still two hours of motorway driving ahead of me. I sent Valerie my ETA and drove on.

Speaking to a friend on Tuesday evening, we discussed the fact that, in so many jobs, thorough training is offered along with mentoring and introductions. What actually happens is that something crops up and you are asked to go out because it’s busy and afterwards, there is no reversion to the plan. Once you’re out there, that’s it. This prediction proved correct as when I went in on Wednesday, I was asked to go out to two more cases. I can’t say I have any regrets. At 23 years old, the first time I stepped solo into veterinary work, I didn’t know if I would cope. At 57, it’s difficult to hold me back. I love fieldwork and I learn by doing. I’ll not forget what adenovirus looks like, which is just as well as I saw it again on Wednesday. There’s still a long way to go, but I love the journey. A steep learning curve (and the expansion of the mind that accompanies it) fills me with joy.

On Thursday evening, after a twelve hour day on Wednesday, I was exhausted, but Valerie persuaded me out for a fish and chip supper beside the cherry blossom trees in Dollar. What a magical evening, sitting on a picnic rug, shaded by trees, listening to the calming flow of the water.

Back in the office on Friday, I also told Naomi and Eleanor that I write a blog. They agreed it was fine with them. They’ve made me feel wonderfully welcome, so I’m glad it’s okay. There are a couple more people to ask, but hopefully I can do that next week. Naomi, as well as being a whizz on the topic of stressed hens does Fat Friday in the office. The photo at the top of the page was yesterday’s loaded fries. They were indeed, extremely loaded, as you see! I showed Val the picture and she says I have to order some and bring them back to eat one evening. That will definitely not be any hardship (assuming they do food in the evenings).

Anyway, after all that food, I’m looking forward to a weekend in Settle. Who knows what that will hold. In the meantime, thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.

Poultry Vet

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It’s important to start at the beginning, or maybe the end, so the first triumph of the week, and the last from my old job, was that our team of intrepid APHA vets did manage to escape from the India room at Escape Hunt in Glasgow. We did so with less than four minutes to spare, but this was a deadline we didn’t want to miss. I am going to miss my colleagues enormously, but Josephine agreed that I can continue to be invited to the quarterly Escape Escapades, so that is something to look forward to.

Storm Dave hit while I was traveling home. Donna had kindly taken Triar in for the afternoon and I arrived in their living room so soaked that I couldn’t even stay for a cuppa, which was probably a first for me. I was very happy that she and Will had taken Triar in though. The bus to Glasgow was very late in both directions and it would have been a long day for him on his own.

I went to the dawn communion service at church on Sunday, which was beautiful. When I was younger, Christmas was always a deeply happy occasion, but Easter has a quiet solemnity and depths of pain and joy which suit the older me. I am incredibly grateful to Fran, the minister, for the hard work she puts in to all these occasions, when most of us get to rest. That said, slightly to my shock after years in Norway, most of the shops seemed to be open, even on Easter Sunday. The UK has become a deeply secular country, where Christian rest days and marking the seasons are becoming things of the past and instant gratification is the order of the day. I don’t feel this is a change for the better. In Norway, almost everything bar the emergency services, is shut over Easter and everyone seems to manage.

Triar and I then travelled down to Yorkshire. I suppose, given what I just said about it not being necessary for everything to be open, it’s a bit hypocritical that I stopped off and enjoyed a coffee at Killington Lake services. That said, had it not been open, I would have taken a flask. It was a beautiful day for travel.

I spent the first part of the week with Mum and Dad. We’re making good progress on getting the old house ready for going on the market. As well as box clearing, I did some painting as well, mostly on the ceiling of the room with Dad’s model railway in it, which was stained where there had been a leak in the roof, which is now fixed. So now I know about special paint for covering stains. It’s never too late to learn about DIY. I need to learn about hanging heavy mirrors next, but that’s for another day.

On Thursday, I started my new job. I’m now in the slightly complicated situation where I can’t write too much as I haven’t run the fact that I write a blog past any of them yet. The daughter of the senior partner has told him I’ve written some books. Apparently she’s reading them, which is lovely. I’m still incredibly proud of the work Vicky and I put into writing them.

But everything so far about my new job seems almost uncannily positive. Both partners have outlined their hopes for what I will become and it seems to draw perfectly on all the varied experiences I’ve had through my career. It’s like they looked at my CV and everything I have done is relevant and of use. I feel almost as if I am falling into a place that was almost carved out for me, but they also want me to make the carving out all my own as well. There’s another new vet who has recently started. She is learning all about the lab work and has already begun to teach me. The stains at the top of the page are for identifying bacteria. I haven’t used them since I was at vet school, more than 30 years ago. The other staff have also given me a warm welcome. They all have their own place in the practice and a lot to teach me about poultry and how everything works. I am looking forward to getting to know them better.

But this blog entry will end as it began, with my old APHA colleagues. For all the seeming promise of my new job, I am really going to miss them. Love to all of you.

And to all my readers, regular and new, thanks for reading. I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Moving On

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Last week on my two day holiday, I spent my time in Dunfermline, as I mentioned last week. What I didn’t say was that I was visiting a vet practice to see if I wanted to work there. The practice works with poultry, which is an area that has interested me for a while. I prefer production animal medicine over treating pets and, much as I love cows, I don’t think I’m up to calving them at three in the morning any more.

I must say, I immediately felt at home there, with the people and the set up. It felt friendly, busy enough to be interesting, but not manic, and they had a Nespresso-type coffee machine and two kinds of milk. The last point may sound a bit of an odd thing to focus on, but from past experience, the best practice I ever worked in had a coffee percolator which was permanently in action. The boss there cared enough about sitting down with a good cup of coffee that he went a step further than most places to make sure everyone benefited.

Handing my notice in was sad though. I’ve been very happy working for APHA in recent months. Ironic as it has been so busy that it has been almost impossible to keep up, but I’ve been working almost exclusively on TB and bird flu, which I enjoy a lot more than imports and by-products, or even welfare. Not really surprising as working with sick animals was what I trained for, all those years ago. I will also miss the team I’ve been working with and my line manager and vet advisor, who have both gone the extra mile to look after me. I’ve also already booked lunch with Scott, one of the Local Authority inspectors I worked with often. Having carefully built up all these relationships, now I am about to let them all go. I guess the ones worth having will continue and erstwhile colleagues may become long-term friends.

Things are moving on in the house too. After over a year of living in a building site, the end looks to be near. My first approach to a carpet shop resulted in a quotation for carpets (two bedrooms and stairs) of £6,500. I said I would go back and look at other carpets, but instead, I am trying another shop. Someone will come round to measure up on Monday and I’m hoping for a price that doesn’t involve going deeply into debt. The young man giving me the high quotation didn’t seem to have any idea that the price was ridiculous. Nor did he make any alternative suggestions or offer any help. Perhaps he thought I was ridiculous because I wanted to order in a carpet I’d found online, rather than in their store, but he certainly isn’t a natural salesman and he lost me as a customer.

The picture at the top of the page is of newborn lambs I saw when out on a visit this week. I’d been out examining some cattle for signs of bluetongue, while an AHO learned to blood sample. Those blood sampling training visits are probably the thing I will miss most. Getting to drive around beautiful areas of farming country has always been one of the major benefits of veterinary work. My new patch as a poultry vet is likely to be mostly in Cumbria, so hopefully there will be new photo opportunities! The area round Dumfries is beautiful, but gently rolling, which requires more photographic skills than I possess.

Anyway, that’s all for this week. I hope you will continue to join me in my new adventure, which will begin after Easter. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good week.

Catching Up

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Working as a government vet, there are times when my job brings an intensity to life that I find fascinating, almost addictive at times. I am still dealing with the aftermath of the bird flu investigation. The initial visit – walking round the shed seeing the sick birds was just the start. There followed a tense period of information gathering. Behind the front line workers like me, there are teams working on epidemiology, tracings and licensing. They need to understand the minutiae of the on-farm operations.

So during that period, it’s as if nothing else matters. It’s all-consuming. The rest of life takes such a back seat that any daily struggles and all other work fall into the background. I fall into a seat in front of the TV at the end of my working day and it’s enough.

As the tidal wave of that work begins to slow, the rest of life and the other work tasks trickle back into focus, but at the moment, those (work) tasks are still quite urgent. Principally, I fell back from avian influenza into the slower wave of bovine tuberculosis. As well as dealing with outbreak work, I should also be doing routine work relating to trade and imports and exports. But our work is prioritised and often we are so busy that we are only skimming the top of what needs to be done. That said, I slipped in a Poultry Health Scheme inspection into my calendar on Tuesday, completed the paperwork and sent it off the next day. The deadline was March, but it was painless (actually I enjoy those visits) and now it’s done.

So picking up the reins of my TB cases, one is quite far along. At the start, there’s a lot to be done, contacting the farmer, explaining what will happen. Broadly, no cattle can move on or off the premises, other than to a slaughterhouse (where they will be scrutinized for disease) and even that is done under licence. There follows a period of testing and culling. Most of the tests are skin tests, but we do blood testing too, at the start. Any animals with positive results are culled and those too are inspected for signs of TB infection. Once we have two clear tests in a row and we have paperwork to say the farmer has cleaned and disinfected the area or areas where the sick animals were housed, then we lift the restrictions.

So with the first of my cases, we are past the blood test and the first of the two skin tests just came back clear. It’s not impossible something might show up, but generally from here it’s plain sailing. In my other case, we are just concluding the blood test. It tends to throw up more positive results, so those animals have to be processed, slaughtered and inspected. I guess it may sound barbaric, but compared with the suffering TB can cause if it goes unchecked… well these things have to be weighed against each other.
To me, those results look quite good. There weren’t so many positives. It will be interesting to see whether any of the animals have what are called “visible lesions” – the TB bacteria tend to wall areas off in the body, a bit like abscesses. If they find those, they will do further testing. Finding the bacteria is almost the holy grail because that allows us to get a much better idea of where the disease came from because they can test to see what strain it is and which other cases are closely related. It takes ages though to grow the bacteria and sometimes they can’t.

Anyway, I digress! As well as working through this process, I have to write everything up in a monthly report. My information and that of all the other cases goes to Scottish Government for oversight. The whole thing takes up a lot of time. I’ve also been allocated the job of overseeing the cleansing and disinfection work at my bird flu farm. The cull is finished and the shed is almost empty. But as the end of the week came into view, I was just thinking that next week, I have plenty to do, but that I will also be able to fit in a welfare visit that’s part of another ongoing investigation that has currently been sidelined. And then my line manager asked me to take on another TB case. This one’s just starting. What testing will be required remains to be seen because all we have at the moment is a positive result, found on a routine skin test. If they don’t find visible lesions then the regime will be different again, but my initial tasks include a Disease Risk Form – a visit to the farm to look at possible source and spread. Is this beginning to sound familiar? This is what I do!

Anyway, in among the work, I am trying to sort out when I might take holidays and who I might visit. My attention is so distracted that I realized yesterday that I’ve booked a week’s holiday that overlaps with a weekend on duty, so I’m going to have to work out what to do about that. For now though, I intend to rest and enjoy the weekend. Last week, Triar and I climbed a whole load of rough steps to visit the Waterloo Monument above New Abbey. It was quite a grey day, but I took a few photos.

We didn’t make it all the way to the top. The stairs were very dark and Triar said no halfway up. Unsurprising really and a sensible decision! Anyway, thanks as ever for reading. I hope you have a lovely week.

Soup and a Sandwich

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During the winter months, it was always going to be hard to keep up with my walking intentions. I’ve mentioned before that, with WalkFit’s help, I was doing a regular 7,500 steps a day, with additional monthly challenges on top. I don’t know whether I might have kept it up if WalkFit hadn’t failed me, but with a combination of complete darkness outside of working hours and the onset of icy weather, which makes falling much more likely, I have not been keeping up with my intentions in the past week.

I did start well over the New Year break. Last week, I described my waterfall adventures and I had two lovely walks at the weekend. The first was up a path near Torthorwald which I found when looking for a different path, but went with it anyway. Triar and I ended up tramping 10,000 steps on some lovely tracks and backroads.

Sunday’s walk was a bit more limited, crammed in between church and a birthday celebration Donna held for me in the afternoon. It was another lovely day though, more backroad walking and some possible exploration for the future.

Work continues to be very up and down and that does have a bearing on my walking as well. As I mentioned above, the shortness of the days, combined with a workday where we are supposed to work from eight thirty until five leaves little time for walking in the sun. And some of my tasks, such as duty vet, which I did yesterday, leave me so exhausted and demoralised that there is little energy for anything other than slumping in front of the TV.

There are good days though. I like working on farms and with farmers. There are few places I would rather be than in a cow shed. There’s something about being among cattle that brings me a feeling of serenity. I realise I don’t instil the same feeling in them, but I do try! Sometimes, because of the nature of my cases, I have to spend time away from home and that probably happens most with TB cases. I’m dealing with two outbreaks at present and both are a couple of hours drive from Dumfries. I’ve named this week’s blog after the lunch I have most often when I’m working away from home.

On days when I work away from the office for more than five hours and less than ten, I’m allowed to claim £7 expenses for food and drink. Most cafes in Scotland offer some kind of soup and sandwich combination and as it is warming and cheap, that is the lunch I go for most often. The lunch in the picture was potato soup and a Brie and cranberry toastie and it was as rustic and delicious as it looks. The week after next, I will be spending two days at the same farm I visited this week to train a new animal health officer in blood sampling. I’ll be staying up there with some lovely colleagues, working on farm during the day, staying in a Premier Inn overnight. Those trips are undoubtedly the highlight of my job. I’m just hoping this time that it’s not too cold.

It seems that half of the UK is currently enveloped in snow, but here in Dumfries, nothing. I find it a bit disappointing after my years in the Arctic. Over there, it was perhaps too much of a good thing, but I miss the brightness it brings and I also have some fabulous spiky boots that aren’t really useful on ice as they need some depth to dig into!

Reading back, I’ve just realized I hadn’t explained how WalkFit let me down. It was always a bit of a poor programme. When I started, it offered a slow, medium or fast option, without any explanation of what those were. As I was fairly unfit at the time, I chose medium on the assumption that it would build up over time at a medium rate, probably to 10,000 steps a day. Instead, it started on 4,300 and built up , but then stopped at 7,500 steps, again without saying that was what it was doing. I waited quite a while before I realised that was it.

But 7,500 steps suited me well. It was relatively easy to stick to. With two “days off” allowed each week, I had been meeting my target steps for six months. And then my three monthly renewal fee came in. At £66 for what was a fairly limited program, it was not cheap, but it was working for me, so I went with it. And then they reset my program. Instead of continuing at 7,500 steps (as it had the first time I renewed) it started me back at 4,300.

I contacted them, of course I did, but the response was insulting. Instead of acknowledging that an error had been made, Nicole told me that the app “sets up daily goals for you based on your personal parameters”. She told me I could change my daily goals, but left it to me to find out that 7,500 was not an option. I could have whole thousands only and the only way to get back to 7,500 (with which I had been very happy) was to work up through the medium program again. Not only that, but it was obvious to me that the whole thing might happen again in three months.

I wrote again, explaining that it was obvious something had gone wrong and the reset should not have occurred. Nicole replied once more, saying “the app occasionally adjusts goals based on recent activity or completion of the personal plan”. As this was a bare faced lie, I decided (quite regretfully) to cancel my account. They did add insult to injury afterwards, by offering me a year’s use at £30 (so much for rewarding loyal customers) but tempting as it was to have the app back again, I wasn’t going to send them any more of my money, whatever the terms.

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My search for a replacement app has, so far, been unsuccessful. All it was, basically, was a step counter with flashy awards when you managed to reach your totals and some fairly useless fitness programmes that very quickly rose beyond 20 minutes, which exceeded my boredom threshold and couldn’t be readjusted down to a level I was happy with. So if anyone wants to set something up, I’d happily pay for it. I guess the WalkFit false advertising (promised weight loss) wouldn’t be an option for a decent person, but it might just take off anyway, at the right price.

I shall leave you with a picture of Triar in his favourite place. I brought my (financially worthless) squashy leather sofas all the way from Norway because we both like them and this one is in front of a radiator, so double comfort for him lying up on the top. Have a good week all, and thanks for reading.

A Long, Long Week

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So I’m in Yorkshire and Christmas day is past. I wasn’t sure I was going to get down here at all. Last week at work was crazy. Shortly after returning from church, a phone call came in from a devastated farmer. He’d gone into his shed and found the birds silent: all either sick or dead. Technically, the case was in the South, so I should have been the one setting out, but by a twist of fate, the farm was closer to the vet covering the North, who offered to go. I am still incredibly grateful. Tuesday saw another case come in. Each involves a tonne of paperwork, even for the phone vet. Tuesday night, a member of the public called at 11 pm. Another twisted neck goose, also handled by a human. If you’re reading this, if you see a sick bird, don’t pick it up. If it’s dead, you can put on thick rubber gloves and double bag it (two dustbin bags, seal well) and put it in the outside bin. If you’re in the UK, you can report it. Details here: https://www.gov.uk/guidance/report-dead-wild-birds

My line manager decided I shouldn’t work at Christmas. I’d worked both days last weekend so by civil service rules, I had to have two days off in a fortnight anyway. I suspect I will be working New Year. Lots of our vets are in other countries for the Christmas break. The three cases so far are in a cluster, so more is a strong possibility. It may already be reality, but my work phone is firmly switched off.

I made some lovely, vegan gravy on Christmas day. Also stuffing and various other things. It seems Helen is now more vegetarian than vegan though, which is a lot easier. Good to know that vegan beer and onion/vegetable gravy can be delicious though. Never know when that might come in handy! Helen is going home today, so it will be just me in the old house. Mum and Dad have moved out and the place is half gutted. When I was thinking yesterday about my last night here, I was reminded of my last night in my lovely house in Norway, which never happened. The removal men arrived a day early and took my bed and that was that. At least this last night won’t be so stressful, even if it is rather sad, after all these years. I have loved this house and am already assuming I will be hosting Christmas in Dumfries next year, all being well.

Anyway, I’m going to go now. My much loved Auntie Margaret is coming over today. She’s Dad’s sister and I have wonderful memories from the 1990s when I was working in Yorkshire and would randomly turn up at their house, to be immediately assimilated into their family, whatever was happening. Helen will be off shortly too. I want to make the most of the time we have.

Have a good week all and thanks for reading. Happy New Year when it comes.

Distractions

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I only realised on Monday, or maybe Tuesday, that Saturday had passed and I had forgotten to write to you at all last weekend. It felt surreal, though perhaps not surprising. My whirlwind trip to the Arctic was over in a flash. Even now that I’m home, it feels no time at all since I was landing in Bardufoss and walking across the recently cleared runway to find Shirley waiting for me, just inside the glass door of the airport building.

It was, in many ways, a beautiful trip. Temperatures were perfect at around minus one all week. Cold enough for crisp snow, not so chilly as to give you frostbite. Each morning, I went for a twilight walk with the dogs. This was my first day.


I sent the picture to my work colleagues, one of whom said it was like a postcard. I was quite surprised because to me, it’s just a road. Attractive enough with all the snow, but not especially scenic. Three years living there has skewed my perspective.

When we got back, Shirley offered to make me the same breakfast she makes herself each morning. Just some oats and nuts, I think she said. She came through a few minutes later with a delicious concoction of blueberries, porridge, nuts, seeds and honey. It was a fabulous start to the day.

I came upstairs on the 5th to find Shirley had put the Christmas tree up. This was in addition to a thousand other festive touches. With darkness outside some 21 hours of the day, it felt cosy and utterly Norwegian.

Despite being vegetarian, Shirley and Kai wanted to treat me to Norwegian Christmas dinner, so on Friday, they took me out to Senjastua for lunch. It was a delight of different Norwegian traditions, from pinnekjøtt (dried and reconstituted lamb) to pork ribbe, via a tasty lamb sausage. It was served with mashed swede and red cabbage, along with what was called ribbe sauce – effectively gravy! Delicious!

It was just as well our walk had taken us a bit further up the hill that morning, or I would never have managed the whole plateful.

The forecast was for cloudy skies all week and I had resigned myself to not seeing the Northern Lights. I did glance out of the window as I was on my way to bed that night and chanced to see stars. Stars meant the clouds must have cleared a bit, so opening the door, I went outside and, to my delight, the sky was indeed lit up with that gently dancing river of light. Standing outside in the snow, it felt timeless and wonderful as ever.

On Saturday, we made shortbread and stuffed mushrooms on a leek and cauliflower purée. No photos of those, but on Sunday, I made a gingerbread cake with cream cheese icing, which I will definitely be making again.

Somehow, it didn’t strike me until Monday that I was leaving on Tuesday. Throughout the weekend, I was thinking I was only halfway through my visit. Monday was spent shopping and Shirley and I had lunch in En Kaffe Te, where I sometimes used to go with John and Andrew, when we all lived there.

I bought quite a few Christmas things. I won’t be using them this year as my house is still in a state of flux with ongoing building work, but perhaps next year, I can make it into more of a haven. Lovely as my trip was, I confess there were bittersweet overtones. I loved my house in the north and when I bought it, I was expecting to settle there, with John nearby and probably Andrew somewhere not too far away. For a number of reasons, it didn’t work out that way and since then, life hasn’t felt settled or comfortable, but I guess that’s how life is. I can only hope to build something different. There’s no going back.

Flying out of Tromsø is always beautiful, especially in winter.

Unfortunately, my flight from Trondheim to Copenhagen was delayed, which meant an exhausting rush the length of Copenhagen airport, followed by the not-unexpected discovery that, although I had made it back to Manchester on time, my luggage hadn’t. Cue two days of hanging about at home, expecting it to be delivered. A message arrived yesterday evening at quarter past seven to say it will be arriving on Monday. I’m not very impressed.

Still Triar seems to have had a lovely time with my friend Ruth. Good to know that I have someone who loves him to look after him when I’m away. It was when she told me she was moving beds to make sure he had enough space that I knew I’d found the perfect home from home for him!

Anyway, have a good week all. Thanks for reading.

Lights in the Darkness

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It’s nice to start the weekend with something amusing. Last night, I sent a selfie to Yoana, my son John’s partner. Last Christmas, she gave me a headband that she had knitted herself. I was touched. Homemade gifts are precious. It’s been a while since the weather has been suitable for a knitted headband, but one frosty morning last week, I put it on to keep my ears warm when I was walking Triar. I don’t normally take selfies. Too old perhaps, and anyway I’ve always been curiously preoccupied with photographing scenery rather than people. Anyway, I took a photo of me in the headband and sent it to Yoana with the caption, “Warm ears on a chilly day!”.

I woke this morning to a message, “Thank you. Wish the same for you.” I was slightly surprised. It wasn’t quite the response I was expecting, but having lived in Norway for a long time, I’m used to conversations which didn’t quite go where they would have with a fellow native Brit. I was happy just to hear from her.

A couple of hours later, a new message arrived. “Just showed it to John and he mentioned the headband which I didn’t notice!” A laugh emoji followed. I found myself picturing the scene: Yoana maybe unsure of my original message. An odd sentiment about warm ears? Rather a strange thing to mention? I’ll check with John.

And maybe John… my mum sent a selfie? Odd!

Then of course, the revelation that it wasn’t a selfie per se, rather a thank you for an appreciated gift, and it all makes sense. She and I were both amused. It was a good start to the morning. I took photos other than my selfie. It was a gorgeous sunrise over the frosty ground.

More than a morning, more than a weekend, this is the start of a two week holiday. I’m here until Tuesday, then I’m off for a week of Polar Night. Sometimes there’s a dull warm period up there at the start of December. I’m hoping for snow on the ground, sub zero temperatures and clear skies (with some Northern Lights as a massive bonus) but even if it’s wet, I get to spend time with friends. My friend Shirley was concerned it might not be good weather, but when I suggest we could stay inside, bake and cook all week, watch TV and maybe write, she agreed this was a wonderful plan. Really, I’m going to see her Nothern Norway is just the world’s best bonus!

The photo at the top of the page is of the Nith as it runs under the Devorgilla Bridge in the centre of Dumfries. I was out last night for a low-alcohol beer with a friend and was struck by how lovely the water was, with the lights shining out in the darkness. It felt like a good start to a winter holiday. Tomorrow I’m joining some colleagues in Glasgow. A group of female APHA vets, we’re going to an escape room as our Christmas Day out. There are no trains to Glasgow on a Sunday morning, either from Dumfries or Lockerbie, so I’m about to find out what the bus service is like. Hopefully on time, as well as relatively cheap!

I have a decorator coming this evening to look at my building project. Hopefully he’s going to tackle the complications of partially removed lining paper on (probably) lath and plaster on my stairwell. He’s unlikely to do the work before Christmas, but I am eyeing up carpets and thinking I might be able to get the bedrooms finally in order. There are buried clothes in my bedroom which I haven’t seen now for over a year. Getting them out (and putting them away in actual drawers) will be a novelty after a year where my clean clothes are piled on a table and there are four beds, a pile of boxes and no other useful furniture in the room where I sleep.

Anyway, December is almost here. For anyone who hasn’t seen my photo Arctic Advent calendar, you can find it here: Arctic Advent

As for me, I’m off there shortly to make some new Arctic memories. I shall leave you with more frosty morning pictures. Have a good week all and thanks for reading.

The Nights are (Fair) Drawing In

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It’s starting to feel quite wintery outside, though really it’s still late autumn. I’m in Yorkshire again and there are still a few leaves clinging to the trees, though there are more on the ground.

While that leaf reminded me of flames (next project must be to get some kind of cosy fire in my house) most are shades of brown. Triar has started a new game where instead of pooing on grass, he’s choosing piles of leaves. As anyone who’s ever tried to spot doggy doo among a pile of leaves will testify, it’s quite a challenging game!

While I am trying to keep up my 7,500 steps a day (thank you WalkFit) the darkening evenings and wet weather are making it tougher. There’s mud now down Blackbird Lane and anyway, it’s too dark down there at night for it to be enjoyable, so though we still go there in the mornings, evening finds us walking the damp streets, admiring the foggy drizzle as we walk through pools of light from the street lights. Soon, of course, there will be Christmas lights to offer more colour in the darkness, but despite the best efforts of the shops, the Christmas spirit hasn’t quite descended yet.

That said, I did watch Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone last weekend. It’s one of my annual Christmas pilgrimages and it takes time to watch all seven films. I’m also in a mood to get the last seven chapters of my novel finished. It’s set in the lead up to Christmas and definitely easier to write when the evenings are long and the mood is upon me. I’ve been writing it for years and have considered abandoning it, but I’m so far through that it seems daft not to complete it. Then maybe I can put it behind me and start something else.

It feels odd to me that Bonfire Night has been and gone, leaving barely a mark. I did hear fireworks now and then. There was a spent rocket in Blackbird Lane the other morning, but it was always such a big part of my childhood that it seems very muted now. I guess I was lucky growing up. My dad loved bonfires and fireworks weren’t frowned upon as they seem to be now. But with the build up to Christmas getting earlier, it does feel like the autumn celebrations of Halloween and Guy Fawkes now feel like they are merging into some kind of early winter celebration. Instead of seeing notices for a local fireworks display around 5th November, then Christmas lights being switched on in early December, I’m seeing mid-November dates for the lights.

Maybe I’m just getting old. The neighbour’s children certainly went out Trick or Treating. I took them some sweets round and was rewarded by the neighbour clipping the top of my too-tall to reach hedge from the roof of his shed. I have no idea if those things were related, but it felt like it to me.

Project garden is moving slowly. The top part now looks neatish, with the exception of a flowerbed that is still choked with ground elder. I’ve planted most of the bulbs I bought with Valerie and have filled my brown bin each fortnight with hedge clippings. The bin service stops through the winter so there’s only one more to go this year. Next weekend, I’ll try to get more hedges cut. At least the growth is slowing down, so anything I do will be easy to keep under control until spring.

For now though, I’d better get up and take Triar out. Those 7,500 steps are not going to walk themselves. I will leave you with some photos taken last Sunday, driving back to Dumfries from Lochmaben. Amazing how the light changes, depending on the weather and the direction of the sunlight.

Hope you have a good week and thanks for reading.

Return of the Rampaging Pigs

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Disclaimer: the pig picture above belongs to a friend and is not part of my case.

Looking back at this post from last year it’s kind of odd to see how little has changed in terms of my workplace, workload and colleagues. The reason I was reading it was because this week, on top of my TB case, the aftermath of Thursday’s report case, big welfare in transport investigation and a couple of routine inspections done or due, the marauding pigs have made a return. It’s been posted on Facebook and the local news, so I guess I can say that these pigs are now causing a significant hazard on the A76. Last year, it appeared the situation was back under control but (as with many other welfare situations) it has spiraled again.

It’s not that surprising. During my three years in Norway, it became obvious that most farmers are doing a great job and that almost all the problems we have to deal with stem from a few people, a few of whom are genuinely bad or ignorant, but most of whom are struggling with life, one way or another. Lots of people have a dream where they run a successful business, keeping animals. The reality is that doing so involves a huge amount of hard graft and a steely mind that can cope when catastrophe hits. Farming is a tough business. To quote James Herriot, ‘I was beginning to learn about the farmers and what I found I liked. They had a toughness and a philosophical attitude which was new to me. Misfortunes which would make the city dweller want to bang his head against a wall were shrugged off with “Aye, well, these things happen.”‘

Anyway, Tuesday was a bit sad as one of the poor pigs was hit by a lorry. The end of the week was filled with meetings and multi-agency planning to find a solution that will last. Otherwise, we’re going to be dealing with ongoing problems for years to come.

A lot of what we do involves fighting against the system. These welfare issues are typical – we have to make sure we give people the chance to rectify problems themselves, when the reality is they are only in that place because they aren’t coping. There’s little we can offer in terms of support and neither advice nor penalties really help. After almost two years though, I have a reasonable grasp on many of the tasks I’m handling and what I can actually do. I have a network of contacts, both local and national, who can be relied on to get things done, which makes all the difference.

In other good news, after waiting since May for a non-appearing plumber, I contacted a different plumber from my street, who came the same evening and started work the next day. I now have a functioning shower and toilet upstairs and the rusty and unusable shower over the bath downstairs has now been replaced. So now, after more than a year without a shower, I have two. Still plastering and decorating to go, but it feels like the end is now in sight for my room-in-roof insulation project.

On Thursday, we had the first frost of the year. Less spectacular than the Arctic frosts that could go on for weeks, building huge ice-crystals, frost here still adds a new layer of beauty to the small things. I do love proper winter weather.

I’m tired after a busy couple of weeks at work, but there’s not much I need to do this weekend. I have a shoebox from the church that I need to fill with Christmas gifts for (I think) refugees somewhere, so I shall take a wander to the shops this morning to get that filled. I may stop for a coffee and a slice of gingerbread cake at the garden centre. Other than that, it looks a bit stormy outside, so I intend to spend some time in front of the TV. It’s almost time to start my Harry Potter Christmas marathon, so that might be on the agenda. In the meantime, I will leave you with some photographs I took last weekend, over towards Wigtown. It’s a beautiful part of the country. Thanks for reading and hope you have a great week.