Tag Archives: The Bible

The Book of Ruth and Clarkson’s Farm

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!

Cross Country

If you were attracted in by the title and train times photo, and you’d prefer not to read my ramblings about current events and Charlie Kirk, please scroll down until you see a photo of the Leeds to Settle train time from last week. Underneath that, I describe my rail journey from last weekend. My brain took me elsewhere as I contemplated the title I had just written and it’s quite long, so feel free to pass over it, if you will.

There are a lot of thoughts rushing round my head this morning, and as I typed the title, it struck me that the words have more than one meaning. Our country and many others in the western world do seem to be filled with anger. I don’t have a TV licence, nor do I read many newspapers, so I don’t know how it’s been presented in the UK mainstream, but I have seen on Twitter/X an outpouring of debate, following the shooting of Charlie Kirk.

Most people I follow, whether they agreed with him or not, have reacted with shock and grief. Whatever you thought of his politics, this was a young man with a family, shot for his political views. I must add here, that I had never heard of Charlie Kirk until he was shot, but having seen a lot of clips of him, it seems he was a Christian who was trying to remind people that the Bible doesn’t just say, as many modern churches (and even secular societies) seem to, that life is all about being nice to people and that we should never judge or comment on what we personally believe is right, in case it offends someone. He also seems to have recently been hand in glove with Donald Trump. US politics are beyond my understanding right now, but Christianity and politics are somehow embroiled in a way that doesn’t happen in the UK, so that is something I can’t assess, but my thoughts are around the accusations attached to his Christian views.

Some Bible “rules”, even in the New Testament, set out ideas that don’t seem very relevant or important. There are examples of customs set out in the Bible which many modern churches simply ignore. A fairly non-contentious one for discussion would be the instruction, set out in 1 Corinthians 11 that women should cover their heads when praying, while men should not.

4Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonoureth his head. 5But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head”

This is, broadly, ignored in modern churches. I ignore it myself, though I can remember my grandmother always wore a hat to church, so in living memory, it was considered important enough for faithful Christians to follow it. There are far more contentious things set out, including that women should not preach. We struggle with that, in an age when we are trying to remove ideas we see as sexist. Long term readers will know that I have started daily Bible readings, with a view to understanding more about what the Bible actually says, and that I have struggled with the contrast between Jesus, who calls God “my Father” and the jealous, even capricious God described in the Old Testament. To be truly Christian, as set out in the Bible, is actually a difficult prospect, because it doesn’t fit with some values we now hold to be true, and even within the texts, there seem to be contradictions.

While being nice to people is an attractive (surely blameless) suggestion, the idea that we should never set out our personal beliefs if they might offend someone is a backwards step. Our western values were heavily influenced by the Bible and Christianity and those rules are being eroded. Some might regard those rules as stupid, but abandoning some while assuming we can retain the good ones that fit with modern sentiment is open to the risk of undermining everything.

Anyway, from one side, I see Charlie Kirk being accused of being right wing, anti-gay, anti-abortion and these are held out to be heinous crimes, actually worthy of assassination. But the clips I have seen paint a more nuanced picture. The Roman Catholic Church is similarly accused, and possibly there are some members of that church who are sufficiently anti-gay and anti-abortion that they would shun those who are gay or have abortions. But my understanding, from priests I have listened to (and Charlie Kirk seems to have held similar beliefs) is that Christians should never shun those people, or condemn them, but rather love them nonetheless as another person’s sin is between that person and God, and not for us to judge. Love the sinner, hate the sin. But you can’t hate the sin, without acknowledging that it exists.

What many in modern society seem to propose, is that we should dismiss the very idea that anything is sinful and we must move towards a blame-free model, which is simply a free-for-all with everyone choosing their own rules. The expectation that nobody should mention the Biblical rules in any form, lest someone feel hurt, or that only chosen topics that are agreeable to modern sentiment can ever be mentioned, is dangerous ground.

I feel that, in the rush to be non-judgemental, even those in many modern churches seem too ready to dismiss the rules altogether, which (contended through translation or not) is to lose sight of what is written in the Bible. If you pick and choose which of the Bible’s (and particularly the New Testament’s) teachings to believe (as opposed to working out which you can bring yourself to adhere to) you may as well not really call yourself Christian at all. Am I a Christian? Well I’m working out where I stand, but I realize that I too, am on dodgy ground when I pick and choose which parts I want to believe and which I dismiss. Who am Ito judge what is relevant? Those who wrote it and those who selected what belongs in it did so a long time ago. It’s a thorny problem.

So how does this relate to Charlie Kirk? From the clips I’ve seen, which I admit are not comprehensive and have obviously been selected to demonstrate certain points, what he seems to be accused of is being anti-gay and so on, but what he is actually “guilty” of is reminding people the rules are there, written in the Bible and that picking and choosing is a complicated business. There are clips of him talking to gay people and saying what they do isn’t up to him to judge. He still accepted they were important to God and the society he wanted to build. Nowadays, reminding people that Christianity has rules is, by some members of society, being painted as so contentious that those doing the reminding deserve violence.

I’m not a particularly deep thinker, but I don’t believe anyone deserves violence and I don’t think violence is ever justified, though there is a grey area with physical self-defence. I also think a completely secular society, where we throw out all Christian based beliefs of right and wrong, is a society where awful ideas can more easily take hold. The idea that there is no “normal” and it’s not okay to regard anyone’s activity as deviant? Well I understand what that is trying to achieve, but it leaves us at risk of normalizing behaviors that put others in society at risk.

That attitude seems to go hand in hand with the idea that those who even mention the suggestion that some activities are deviant are committing a violent act and that retribution is only to be expected if you say something that offends people. The idea that someone might deserve to die, for saying things a group of people didn’t like, then starts to be normalized and excused. Well what did he expect? He should have keep his mouth shut! Really that is a world I don’t want to see or live in, yet here we are. What happened to “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”?

I apologize to anyone who was drawn into this blog by the photo of the train journey at the top of the page and didn’t want to read my thoughts on current events. This was going to be a light hearted post about my rail trip from Guildford to Leeds last weekend, but sometimes I end up going where my brain takes me. From here on is what I intended to write about.

Screenshot


I took a train from Guildford to Reading last Saturday morning and was smugly thinking how much easier rail travel was nowadays. As I looked at the screenshots I had taken of train times, I thought back to a time when I would stand on station platforms, trying to make sense of the printed timetables on the posters and of a huge tome with all trains everywhere for the next six months, which my dad or the people in the ticket booth at the station would check for you, so you could work out how to get where you wanted. You had to memorize the journey in advance. That said, if you missed a train, there was usually a guard or station worker who could tell you. They all seemed to have magical memories, that retained all this national knowledge of what went where.

Having looked online last weekend for trains to Leeds, from Reading, it seemed that I had a choice of going to Paddington, getting the Underground Central Line to Kings Cross (or it may have been Euston) then getting a Leeds bound train from there. The alternative was going via Birmingham and changing there for a train to Leeds. That would get me to Leeds a bit later, but I would still be in time to get the 15:18 from Leeds to Settle. Whichever I chose, I would arrive in Settle at the same time. While I had confidently negotiated a trip from Kings Cross to Waterloo on the way to Guildford, I decided Birmingham New Street sounded the easier option.

If you look closely at the image at the top of the page, there was only a twelve minute connection time between the train arriving at Birmingham New Street and the Leeds train, but as you can also see, the information gathered by Google even went so far as to tell me what platform I needed. As I rushed across New Street station, dismissing the possibilities of toilet and coffee (queues at both) I was glad of the help that Google provided.

The first carriage I tried to get into turned out to be first class. With time passing, I went to the next entrance, which proved to already have passengers standing, while through the windows I could see all the seats were filled. Scurrying along the train, wondering whether there were seats anywhere, again and again, I came to entrances that were already blocked by people for whom there was standing room only. It was a long train and eventually, in the last carriage, there were a few seats. With relief, I jumped in and sat down. My student days of happily sharing train floors with seated strangers are long past.

It was only after the train had left the station, that I started to listen to the announcements about where it was going. There was a long list. The final stop was Aberdeen, with many stops along the way, but one name that I hadn’t heard was Leeds. I waited for the scrolling announcement on the screen to go again and it was confirmed. Sheffield and Doncaster were on the list. Leeds was not.

There had been a woman with a trolley in the entrance to the carriage. Rather than trying again online, I thought I might ask her. She was lovely, but didn’t know. “What you can do,” she said, “is walk up to first class. There are staff there who’ll be able to advise you.” I was halfway along the carriage where I had found the seat before it struck me that, not only was it a long way up to first class, but that getting past all the people in the corridors was going to make the journey difficult and that there was a possibility that I might not be able to make it at all.

I did give consideration to sitting back down and trying to work it out myself, but my faith in asking people for help surged to the fore. I’d already made a mess of online searching. Better to ask someone who actually knew how it all worked. It was a long walk and I apologised over and over as I initially pushed past people, then later actually had to aske them to stand up from where they had settled themselves in on the floors of the increasingly crushed corridors and doorways.

With all those bodies, it was hot and I was sweating by the time me and my suitcase passed through the civilised and air conditioned first class carriage to reach the galley beyond, where I did indeed find two permanent members of train staff. To my relief, my stammered explanation of being on the wrong train was met with a friendly resignation. This train, they agreed, did normally stop at Leeds, but today it was going via Doncaster instead.

They advised that I could get off at either Sheffield or Doncaster and would find easy connections to Leeds from either. It was only then that I began to think about the rest of the journey to either of those. Both were still a couple of hours away and the seat I’d found was a very long way off, past people I’d already inconvenienced once. I’d had a brief conversation with a staff member on an earlier train, who’d said it would probably only be a tenner to upgrade to first class. Not expecting to find it was the same here, I haltingly asked how much it would cost to upgrade here.

To my amazement I was told that, as the train was fully booked, I could sit in first class for now, until somebody else needed the seat. I felt slightly guilty as I sat down in the only spare seat, but as the alternative was to shuffle all the poor floor sitters in the stuffy vestibule beyond the first class door (there was no space to join them so going past would be the only option) I decided I would stay where I was and hope that nobody else would book the seat I was sitting in before we got to Sheffield.

Thankfully, I was able to travel first class to Sheffield, where I found there was about an hour to wait before the next Leeds train. There may well have been more trains that stopped there (rather than it being an end destination) but I decided that I wasn’t going to risk Dr Google again and that the time could be well spent, using the toilet and buying the coffee and sandwich there hadn’t been time for in Birmingham.

And so, I arrived back in Settle about an hour and a half later than I had hoped, with a new realization that I should not take shortcuts in looking up train times. There are proper apps and sites that will actually give live information on what is actually happening that day, and not on what usually happens on the line or service. I guess I’ve already started to doubt the AI summary that Google gives at the top of any search now, so I can add train times to the list of things I need to search for on reliable websites and not on accumulated information (and misinformation) that Google gathers from anywhere and everywhere.

I was also going to write a bit about the apps I use to help with managing my FND and in particular, my amusement last night about a “Sleep Wind Down” called “Arctic Lights” which… well the described scene did not resemble the Arctic I remember. I may come back to that next week, because this is already long enough.

I’ll leave you with a few images from Blackbird Lane, where autumn is already creeping in and the clear summer skies have been replaced with more typical Scottish weather. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.

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Golden Hemorrhoids and Sticky Toffee Pudding

At the start of this week, I was quite tense. I’ve explained before that I am trying to work towards a bonus payment, which requires a lot of hoop-jumping and I am attempting some of the hoops right at the last minute, given that the deadline for submitting my activities is Monday coming. On Tuesday last week, I was meant to be presenting training on Foot and Mouth Disease and an update on Bluetongue. On the morning of the presentation, I received a message to say it the meeting was cancelled. I confess, I was rather relieved, though hopefully it won’t undermine my case.

On Wednesday, I gave my Disease Risk Form training to some of the vets. It was given at our regional meeting and I fondly looked round the room at the three or four vets in attendance and thought there was nobody there that would worry me to present to.

When the time of the meeting arrived, Josephine, my veterinary mentor told me we were linking in by Teams, and slightly to my horror, I realized that there were vets at all levels, linking in from the whole of Scotland. Still, I didn’t have any time to worry, and apart from wishing I’d thought to bring a glass of water for my dry mouth, the whole thing went off pretty well.

I must say though, that Josephine herself had given some training on Bluetongue (the situation is unfolding fast – we’re trying to keep it out of Scotland) which she made much more fun than anything I have produced. As you can see below, the cow on the Lipton’s tea van is leaving England and crossing the yellow border into Scotland and we were learning about the special measures the farmer would have to undertake. Suffice to say, there won’t be a lot of English animals at Scottish shows this year and vice versa.

Not sure whose the Coke bottle is, but clearly it should really have been Irn Bru for the sake of consistency.

Wednesday night was the summer meal at my writing group in Lockerbie. The hotel we use does food and they are responsible for the sticky toffee pudding at the top of the page. As regular readers will know, I’m a bit of a foodie and the beef stroganoff, for my taste, had too much Dijon mustard, to the point where that was the principal flavour, but it was pleasant enough.

On Thursday morning I woke up feeling a bit more relaxed, with all my training done for now. I’ve mentioned before that I am reading the Bible and I have an app that gives me three readings each day, two from the Old Testament and one from the New. My first Old Testament reading was Samuel and I was bemused to read that, having stolen The Ark of the Covenant, the Philistines were blighted with “‘emerods in their secret parts”.

Of course, I had to look this up. There are sometimes words I don’t fully understand and sometimes I don’t check, but these emerods were coming up, over and over, and moreover, when the Philistines sensibly decided that the safest thing was to swiftly hand the Ark back to Israel, the priests and diviners told them they had to give it back with an offering that consisted of five golden mice and that they had to make images of their “emerods” from gold and hand over five of those as well.

So when I checked, it turns out that the word “emerods” is actually an old word for hemorrhoids. I must say, the Bible does throw up some truly bizarre things now and then! As it was my friend Valerie who encouraged me into the Bible reading, I tried to send her a message, “Golden hemorrhoids? I’ve heard it all now!” But having sent it, I realized a minute or two later that I had sent it instead to another friend. Fortunately, I managed to delete it before she saw it, but I had a laugh and shared that with Valerie too. Let’s face it, that would be quite a message to wake up to, without context or explanation!

I shall leave you with a few, wonderfully overgrown pictures from Blackbird Lane. Thank you, as ever, for reading. Hope you have a good week.

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