Tag Archives: Travel

Turn Right onto Albert Road

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So here I am in Wolverhampton, or rather, in a leafy suburb of the city. I’ve completed my first week at Cavan Vets in Bushbury and, on the whole, am feeling very content. I’m also sorely in need of a rest, having driven down last Sunday, then worked from nine in the morning until seven at night for the last five days.

I rejected another locum offer last week because of similarly long hours, though that one was also complicated by the fact that I was going to have to find (and fund) my own accommodation and the dates they offered were all over the place. I could only work part weeks in Glasgow because Lara very kindly let me stay in her flat. The practice where I’m currently locumming offered to pay for an apartment and, in the event, kindly found somewhere for me, which made the whole thing very straightforward.

It’s not like the PDSA. This is a private practice, where clients are paying for my time. I confess I felt a bit nervous at that the first couple of days. Imposter syndrome, if you like. But it’s amazing how things have slid back into place, some of them from more than twenty five years ago, which was the last time I worked in private general practice in the UK. And I love the animals, even the ones that are grumpy with me. Who can blame them? Vet clinics can be scary places, with needles and being poked and prodded, of falling asleep and waking up with a wound and a cone, of areas where your owner can’t come with you.

But the nurses and receptionists are lovely. Their love of animals shines through. The practice is full of waifs and strays, from Paddy the Labrador, who was taken on by the boss, to the black cat without a tail, who has a whole room to stretch out in while he waits to find a new owner. And for the two weeks we are here, Triar gets to be a practice dog as well. Monday morning, I left him in the apartment, but when I got to work, I was told he could come too. If he got on with Paddy, all well and good. If not, they’d find him a kennel. By Wednesday, he was dragging me in the door when he arrived. He and Paddy get on fine and he is spoiled rotten by almost everyone. For me, it’s just lovely to see him so well loved and looked after.

As for me, I’ve also been well looked after. The apartment is lovely and everyone has been very patient with all my questions and a few, odd areas of ignorance. When I qualified as a vet, the only flea treatment on offer that worked was Nuvan Top. You could spray a flea ridden animal and watch the fleas drop off. A few years later, the spot-ons arrived: the ones you put on the back of the neck, which killed fleas in the environment too. Now the treatments are all-singing-all-dancing, kill worms and fleas, ticks and mites. Some are still spot on, some are tablets, but there are a lot of choices and usually they are combined with worming treatments that you can’t use at the same time, due to crossover of the active ingredients. I’m still trying to get my head around all that. Still, I seems to have been keeping up so far with the appointments and am handling more complicated cases than I was at the PDSA.

It’s rather strange that I’m already half way through. The nurses will just get me trained up and then I’ll be off again. The practice is so lovely though, that I wonder what would have happened if I’d landed here years ago. Despite the long hours, I’m enjoying it immensely. For the first time, it crossed my mind that perhaps being a locum might be better than going back to APHA. That said, I’ve worked in quite a few practices over the years and the two I’ve been working in in recent weeks have been warm and welcoming places. I know not all are so harmonious.

I feel a bit sad that I’m not likely to have time to explore Wolverhampton as I did Paisley, but my body is telling me I need to rest. I’ll see how I feel tomorrow, but I suspect a quiet day in will be in order, though I shall probably go to church and maybe try to find somewhere nice to walk Triar. I don’t have many photos. The one at the top of the page is Halfway House, at the intersection between Albert Street and Tettenhall Road, near where I am staying. It’s now a dental practice and pharmacy, though it used to be a pub and, before that, a staging post, which is what, to me, it looks like. It’s after the time of Jane Austen, but still easy to imagine travellers stopping there, back when the horse was the main means of transport and it took days, rather than hours, to get anywhere.

I’ll leave you with the few pictures I’ve taken while wandering round, as well as one of Triar in his new Practice Dog role. And now, I’m going to grab a coffee, then kick back and watch Ludwig on the TV. Triar is asleep on the sofa beside me. What better way to spend a day? Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good week.

So Much for Likely Lasts

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I really should not make predictions, or indeed assume anything about what the future holds. My previous post started with a partial lament, that I might have done my last surgery, but the failure in my thinking was with the idea that the civil service might be in any kind of hurry to get me reinstated. I spoke to Dean (ex and hopefully future line manager at APHA) on Wednesday. The papers that were completed and sent off the week before, rather than being something final, were indeed only the preface to a possible eight week check of my suitability – a DBS check, if you like. Dean’s own line manager had indicated they hoped to have me back on board by the beginning of September, but it seems Dean’s “management of my expectations” (he suggested mid-October) is looking more likely.

I have suggested to them that I could locum for APHA in Dumfries in the meantime. After all, bluetongue and BSE are keeping them all busy, but I haven’t heard anything back about that, so rather reluctantly, I engaged with trying to find something else to do. After all, the mortgage isn’t going to pay itself. I was really hoping for another PDSA stint, and it was looking likely midweek. There was talk of possible positions in both Leeds and Bradford, either of which would have suited, due to the proximity to mum and dad and various relatives. I also talked to the senior vet in Margate. I quite fancied a trip to the seaside, though it would have introduced a major complication to my plan to attend Kyle and Candice’s ceilidh in Scotland in the last weekend in September. Margate to Scotland for a weekend would be quite a stretch.

Anyway, yesterday morning, while out on a Wildlife Farm Walk, I was called by one of the agents I’m in touch with. She offered me a two week stint in a private practice in Wolverhampton. She’d spoken to them about me and she, and they, seemed to think I would be a good fit. So in an unexpected turnaround, tomorrow I am off to the Midlands. One thing about my life at the moment – it’s never boring!

I have made the most of my week at home. It’s been a week of sunshine with torrential rain showers. Blackbird lane has been invaded by swallows, which swoop and twirl overhead, catching the autumn insects, while butterflies flit around the flowers and blackberries ripen in the hedgerows.

I found yesterday’s wildlife walk on Facebook. It was actually an educational walk on Torr Organic Dairy Farm. It was arranged by Scottish Agricultural College and was about organic farming and diversification, so I signed up, not knowing what to expect, but hoping for a pleasant walk. In the event, it was even better than I’d hoped for. There were a number of organic farmers there and I learned a lot from discussion about treatment of animals and preserving welfare in the absence of antibiotic use. APHA and DEFRA also have interests in sustainability and one health, as it pertains to the environment, so it turned into a truly useful day. On top of that, there were cute calves. There are few animals that I find more appealing than dairy calves, bedded on lots of clean straw, with their gentleness and inquisitive faces. Who could possibly resist?

Anyway, I think that’s enough for today. Next week, I should be writing this from an AirBnB in Wolverhampton. Another new place to explore.

I’ll leave you with a couple of photographs from yesterday’s farm walk. In the meantime, thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.

A Whole Lot of Walking

Blog, Food, Hillwalking, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , , , , ,

This week started, like last week, with a breakfast from Harry’s Fuel Bar. This week, as you can see above, I had sourdough toast with smashed avocado and poached eggs. Like the pancakes, it was beautiful to look at, as well as delicious. The sourdough toast was crunchy and substantial, the eggs perfectly cooked and the swirly patterns on the plate were sweet and punchy as well as decorative. A good start to the weekend.

Round about lunchtime, I took my car out of the locked car park, where it had stood safely all week, and drove to Yorkshire. The weather was a good bit cooler than it had been, and I discovered, when I took Triar out in the evening, that I had a whole lot more energy than I’d had before. I’m not sure whether it was all down to the weather. I have been (sourdough toast aside) eating low carb to try to lose weight and it always takes time for my body to adjust. I’d also been walking from Central Station to the PDSA every day, so likely my fitness improved, but suddenly, after months of walking being a tough drag, I could walk again without every step feeling heavy. It was wonderful.

I walked up a steep Settle lane and (despite the low clouds) there were lovely views when I got higher up.

Sunday’s walk was even better. I had headed up towards Constitution Hill, thinking I would take the bridle path towards Lanhcliffe, when I saw the gate that leads up to Castleberg Crag was open. There’s a flagpole on the top of the crag that can be seen from all over Settle and I’d been hankering to go up there for a while, but for the past couple of years, every time I’ve passed the gate, it has been locked. Now there it was, inviting me in. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d been told it was a tough scramble, but instead, I found well marked paths, zigzagging up through ancient trees. There was quite a steep drop on one side, but fortunately Triar behaved himself. The views from the top were very much worth it.

After the crag, we continued along Constitution Hill onto the high road towards Langcliffe, then back through the town centre. While we were wandering, I was very impressed with the number of flowerpot critters I saw, scattered around the town. The Flowerpot Festival is in full swing and everywhere you looked, there were animals and birds and all kinds of brightly coloured potty things.

I returned to work on Tuesday and worked Thursday and Friday as well. By the time I finish my PDSA stint, there will be a whole lot more neutered animals running around Glasgow. I’m still enjoying it and am now approaching form on that as well. Next week, I will be doing some consultations, so I’m hoping I can find my way back there as well, without too many problems. The nurses and animal care auxiliaries are all fabulous and taking very good care of me, which is always a massive help.

And so today is likely to start with another breakfast at Harry’s Fuel Bar. There’s a lot of good stuff on the menu, but I’m not sure I’ll get past the protein pancakes to try anything new. While low carb, is by far, the easiest way for me to lose weight, it does get a bit samey and fresh flavour can be lacking. While the protein pancakes undoubtedly contained more carbs than is ideal, they did keep me feeling full all day.

Later on, I may go to Barshaw Park, as Martin recommended in last week’s comments. There is still a miniature train there, apparently, so Triar and I will likely make our way over there this afternoon. Tomorrow, I may take him on the train to Gourock, as that’s one of the places the trains that I catch from Central back to Paisley end up. It’s at the sea side, so maybe well see the sea!

I will leave you with a few more photos from my wanders around Paisley. It really is a fascinating place, with lots of cobbled streets and wynds as well as churches. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good week.

Triar and the Bull

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This morning, I’m listening to the sobbing of gulls outside the window, but I’m not at the seaside. I’m in the heart of Paisley, which is a few miles west of Glasgow, though there’s no longer really any gap between the two. My friend Lara has kindly lent me a bedroom in her flat there while I’m working in Glasgow.

City life is certainly very different. To get to work in the morning, I take the train into Glasgow Central, then walk twenty minutes or so to Shamrock Street. The work is also very different from what I’ve been doing. It’s odd because I had occasionally (and rather regretfully) thought I would probably never do surgery again as I was unlikely to return to practice, but here I am, doing surgery all day from nine in the morning until five in the evening. It’s very intense. On Thursday, I did four cat castrations, three dog castrations, two cat spays (one midline) and a bitch spay. I’d have done the same yesterday, but two of the cats didn’t turn up, so my day was marginally easier.

There are benefits however. I only worked three days this week: Monday, Thursday and Friday. So Tuesday and Wednesday were all my own. I started both days with a walk with Triar to It’s Noe Coffee, where I bought a latte and drank it on a bench. The second day, the bench was near Paisley Abbey, which is when I took the photo at the top of the page. There are lots of fascinating old buildings scattered around the town centre. It’s obviously been a very rich place in the not too distant past. This enormous building is the town hall, though (criminally) I managed to miss the top of the clock tower out of the picture.

There are oases of green, even in the centre of the town. This little patch of parkland, with its carefully laid out flowerbeds and palm trees is where I take Triar in the early morning before I go out to work.

Triar seems to be universally loved wherever we go, which gives me huge pleasure. Lots of people stop to say hello to him. He has also adjusted incredibly fast to city life, though sometimes he’s so distracted by all the smells and stains that he almost forgets to pee and poo. The little patch of parkland in the photo is covered in pigeons in the early morning (Merlin tells me they’re Rock Doves) and Triar loves to send them flapping into the air with a lunge and bark combo. I think the locals have been trying to protect Queen Victoria from them (or maybe were just getting into the spirit of the World Cup) because she is wearing a traffic cone, though not one of the traditional orange and white design.

There’s another little passageway called Meeting House Lane that intrigues me. It’s quite steep, hemmed in by buildings on one side and a wall and trees on the other, and cobbled all the way down. It’s nice and shady, which is good right now as it’s been very hot.

Anyway, I’m going to be staying here, on and off, for the best part of a month and a half and it feels like the beginning of an adventure. There’s so much mor to explore. I want to go into the cathedral and look round. It’s Noe has some amazing looking feta pastries (as well as spinach, potato, leek and tomato and onion filled versions) so one day, I’ll have to try those.

White Cart Water (a major tributary of the Clyde) runs through the centre of town and there are some bridges and banks to explore, though this photo, on the surface, makes it look more upmarket than it really is nowadays. On closer inspection, the buildings on the left are boarded up and one of the beautiful old houses has trees growing from its windows and graffiti downstairs.


Yesterday evening, after a long day and 13,000 steps, I decided to go and enjoy a beer in one of the local hostelries. The Bull got a good write up for being dog friendly, so we stopped in there on our evening walk. Triar enjoyed greeting the locals and was given a bowl of water and two treats. He repaid the poor barman by spilling his water all over the floor. I think he quite enjoyed the whole experience though.

Anyway, back on Tuesday, mindful of home, I went to IKEA and bought a chest of drawers. Much as Paisley is drawing me in, today I’m going back to Dumfries to restart the clearing of my bedroom and hopefully put the new drawers together, so I suppose I’d better get organized. I’m not working again until Thursday, so I have a few days of much needed rest. I will leave you with a photo of one of the painted Scottie Dog statues that I walked past on the way to work. Like Queen Victoria, he was wearing a cone, though his was at a very jaunty angle.

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good week.

Food and Flowerpots

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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.

In Between

Blog, Food, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , ,

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!

The Last Fat Friday

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Just like that, the Inchcolm adventure is over. It started with promise, but turned out to be my shortest ever stint in a practice. Remarkably, we parted amicably. Though it was uncomfortable, I was able to explain my reasons and be heard. Despite having flowers and cake, as well as a Fat portion of loaded fries, yesterday was mostly sad. As I drove away, It Must Have Been Love played on the radio, offering an appropriate level of melancholy.

I’m now back in Dumfries, returning too late to really do very much, other than go to bed. The future is wide open and I haven’t had confirmation of any if the possible jobs that might be lined up, but I have a week in Yorkshire to look forward to and I have faith that all will be resolved soon.

The house is a mess and the garden overgrown. Looking at it, the idea of going away yet again, and spending six weeks or more in another practice is rather frustrating. Before I left, it was finally starting to take shape. Still, the mortgage has to be paid, so I will do what I need to do and sort out the rest later.

Anyway, I have some lovely memories, both of the last two and a half months, and of the last week. Highlights of the last months include the daily commute from Airth to Dunfermline. Crossing the Forth every morning, driving through green and rolling fields, with Scotland as a backdrop was magical. I’m going to miss all the central Scotland radio stations. As I rolled down the hill around Abington, Smooth Radio died. Dumfries is an absolute dead space when it comes to FM stations and my 15 year old car can’t do anything more up to date.

I met some lovely people and I hope we’ll stay in touch. I promised to pop in if I was passing, which isn’t that unlikely, especially if I return to APHA.

It’s also been incredible living with Valerie and Charles. They’ve been wonderful company and I haven’t once felt that I was in the way or that they wanted their spare room back. Through them, I was baptised as a Christadelphian. I’ll be inviting myself back for next year’s Eurovision party. Kyle and Candice’s ceilidh is in September. I need to get into shape for dancing, so that’s my next project, whatever else comes along.

Val and I enjoyed the warm weather this week, heading out on Monday night to the Pineapple and on Wednesday to Fallin Bing.

As usual, the gardens at the Pineapple were beautiful. Everything is in full bloom at the moment.

Wednesday evening’s walk on Fallin Bing was a surprise. For those who don’t know, a bing is a slag heap, leftover waste from mining. I was half aware that Fallin had been a mining village, where Airth was a fishing village in past times. The mine closed in 1987, along with so many others in Scotland, which closed around the same time. I grew up near Bilston Glen Colliery and remember the miner’s strikes. Now both are long gone.

But the bing is beautiful. Once it would have been a black desert. Now it’s an oasis of Oxeye Daisies and silver birch trees.

I had better finish off. Before I went away, Donna invited me to a Mumma Mia Party, with dancing and singing, and bring your own bottle fun. I won’t say I’m properly introverted, but I am feeling some trepidation at the prospect. It’s generally worth pushing outside your comfort zone though. You never know what you’ll find out there. So I need to walk Triar and buy a bottle of something or other, before heading round to Donna’s just before twelve.

Thanks for reading. I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Miscalculation and an Aberrant Foxglove

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I shall begin with the aberrant foxglove. There are lots of gorgeous foxgloves in Valerie’s garden and I was reminded of something odd I’d seen in my own garden, last time I was home. I talked to her about it. Basically, my one, lonely foxglove has all the normal bell-shaped flowers on the lower part of its stem. At the top though, where there should be tapering buds, instead mine has a veritable flamenco dancer of a bloom. She wondered whether it was a different flower altogether, but I had taken a photo and when I showed her, she agreed that it almost certainly was a foxglove. “It’s very beautiful,” she commented. So here it is. My aberrant (but beautiful) probable foxglove. Feel free to comment if you can shed light on it!

The miscalculation related to where my call was on Monday. The farm was near Kelso, which is in the Scottish Borders, south of Edinburgh. I was in North Yorkshire and mentally calculated that (as I said last week) there was no point driving north to Airth, only to go south again. Equally to go to Dumfries would be an hour’s unnecessary driving as it’s also not on the route between where I was and where I needed to be. I’m now driving the practice van, so I’m very much aware of the mileages and not using it for personal use.

Anyway, in my mind, Kelso was in the Scottish Borders and Dumfries is near the border with England, so I was imagining that traveling to Kelso, then on to Airth (or Dunfermline) would be a similar journey to traveling to Dumfries, then on to Airth (or Dunfermline). The first leg of the journey (I thought) would be shorter than the second. What I had not taken into consideration was that Scotland’s border with England isn’t a nice, level line from West to East. It’s actually more at a 45 degree angle – much further north in the east than in the west. In addition, I think Eleanor said the farm was in Jedburgh, which is actually south of Kelso. I’ve made a map image to show where Kelso is (the red marker) in comparison with Dumfries and Airth, which is near Stirling.

The bright yellow road running up the west side of the country should also have been included in that calculation. It’s the M6/M74 which connects with all the motorways in the central belt of Scotland. It’s also nearly a straight line from Dumfries to Stirling. Driving up through the Borders takes way longer and is a massive detour.

Anyway, having got up and set off early, in order to get to Kelso by the allotted time of 11am, I found that, in the van, on these windy roads, the journey took even longer than expected. I couldn’t find the farm when I got there either. The postcode I’d been given took me to a small housing estate on the edge of a village. Sometimes when that happens, you discover there are chicken sheds hidden by some trees, but not this time. By the time I finally found the farm, it had taken me four hours to get there and I was also thirsty, as I hadn’t had time to stop for coffee along the way.

The visit itself went well. Some lovely, free range hens, very healthy and well looked after. It was only when I got back in the van and put Airth as my destination into the app, that I found I was only an hour and forty five minutes away. Worse still, I had to skirt round Edinburgh, which meant that Dunfermline was marginally closer.

So by now I was thinking that the boss would be wondering how I had taken quite so long on a call that was less than two hours from home. It was also around two in the afternoon. It’s a half hour drive from Dunfermline to Airth so (for me anyway) it made more sense to go to Airth and work from home for a couple of hours. I had enough to write up, after all. Technically, from the practice’s point of view, I had actually done the least amount of miles and the lowest number of hours worked. My conscience remains clear, but I am finding the expectations of private practice quite tough. At APHA, I had a lot of freedom. My boss trusted that I would plan my days effectively. He and I would have laughed together at my miscalculation. Nor would he have expected me to travel the three hours back to Airth (I was in Yorkshire for work) in my own time, knowing I would still have to put in a full day’s work on Monday.

From all of this navel gazing, you might have worked out that all is not entirely well in my new job. I chose to go back to Airth anyway, knowing it might not be popular, but unwilling to enter into a lengthy discussion over what had happened. Where there is no trust, I find it hard to function and (frankly) I’m too old for mind games.

For what it’s worth, I had a lovely weekend in Yorkshire, staying with mum and dad. I had a lovely walk on Saturday, in between rain showers, so I will end on a positive note, with some photos. Thank you for reading. Hopefully next week’s post will be more cheery. Have a good week all.

From Baptism to Chicken Pens

Blog, Food, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , , , ,

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!

Not Too Flat

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , , , ,

I was bursting with excitement when I wrote my last post. So much so that this week’s might seem flat in comparison. It’s also lacking in food photos, though we did have KFC last night, which was delicious, but not very photogenic.

I was planning to go to Dumfries today. It feels rather odd to have deserted my little witchy house for so long. I’ve bought flowers in pots and a couple of shrubs for my recalcitrant ground elder flowerbed and the lawn must be getting overgrown, but I’ve chosen to stay at Valerie’s in Airth, partly because it’s more restful and partly because it’s a long drive, fuel is expensive and I’m whacking miles on my car like never before with a thirty minute daily commute. There’s a reason I bought a house four minutes from my previous office.

Last weekend, Mum and I finally got her old house into shape for selling. The garden still needed a tidy and some cleaners were going in, but all the boxes were cleared and it all looked neat and in good order. As we stood in the kitchen at the end, I apologised to her and said I hoped I hadn’t made her feel too hen-pecked. She told me that conversations among her generation frequently included comparative discussions on how much their offspring heckle them. Apparently I was relatively moderate! Who knew?

I did find the energy on Sunday morning to take Triar out from the centre of Settle and up through the steep lanes and picturesque cottages to the edge of the fells. The photo at the top of the page is from that walk. It was a beautiful morning.

Work has been all about paperwork this week, with no new flights of fancy. I have courses to do so I can be an “Official Veterinarian” – ironically some of it is the kind of work I was doing at APHA where I began doing that work before I had any qualifications. Yesterday morning, realising my Avian Influenza (AI) course had expired quite some time ago, I pinged off an email to the OV team, then received a phone call to say I couldn’t retake the course because I would have to sit the Essential Skills course.

I was confused by this news. I completed Essential Skills in November 24, a year into my two and a half year APHA career. Before that, I had what were called, “grandfather rights”, which meant that, in essence, APHA accepted I had enough experience to do the work without having completed the course. The qualification has to be repeated every four years and therefore runs out in November 28. I have already signed up for three export courses, in my new job, that I can’t use without it because I don’t have an OV stamp. I had the APHA equivalent, but handed it back on leaving.

I queried it. Of course I did, because it’s insane! I’ve actually been doing AI work at intense APHA, report case levels. I was told that a Vet Lead would have to be consulted. I asked if it would be one of the Scotland Vet Leads, thinking I could simply call one of them and ask them to confirm, but apparently it’s a special, OV Vet Lead, so I couldn’t. Maybe it’s some crazy idea, so a private practice can’t benefit from employing an ex APHA vet to do their OV work, but really? It’s not saving the public purse anything. I very much doubt APHA are about to be reimbursed for the unused two and a half years and for me, it will mean wading through around 8 hours worth of turgid information to sit an exam, which is often unrelated to said turgid information. At least it’s in English and not Norwegian, which is about the only good thing I can say about it.

I also spend some time editing the Broiler Vet Policy. Every one of our farms has to have a Vet Policy each year (to do with legislation – I must read that part again – good to know why I’m doing things). Having completed it, it transpires there is more than one broiler policy. That was the version for farmers in the Red Tractor scheme. There’s another for those without, and that’s before we get onto the pullets and layers and whatever other kinds of flocks we cover. It’s a useful exercise for me, and for the practice. I found at least one reference to 2013 RSPCA welfare standard revisions. The last revision was last year and I don’t know how many there have been in between, but it looks as if my editing and page-numbering skills, honed through writing Hope Meadows (and other unpublished work) will be almost as useful as my client and veterinary skills!

Monday is a bank holiday (hooray!) so next week is a four day week. I have to be in Dumfries on Thursday because someone is coming to fit carpets. I also have to pick up a painting I took for reframing, tidy the garden, move the remaining boxes upstairs and generally pick up the strands of my Dumfries life again, even if only temporarily. Life is rushing in unexpected directions at the moment.

I’m loving it here in Airth and Dunfermline. I currently can’t return properly to Dumfries for work as I still don’t have access to the practice database on my laptop. Nor am I completely sure which clients will be “mine” or how I will structure my visits. All clients need at least one visit per year, to coincide with the issuing of the Vet Policy, so once I have a list, I can start to work through that. Those visits will be done alongside any diagnostic visits, requested by farmers when there is a problem.

I did get some nice work news this week. The aggressive birds I visited last week have stopped pecking each other so much. Thanks go to Naomi for that one, with her excellent information on the destressing of high performance laying hens. I thought I knew quite a lot about bird welfare, but nowhere near what she knows. I love learning though, so by the time I take on a few more cases, I will have soaked up that information and will hand it out as if I’ve known it for years. Really, that is the core of successful veterinary work, at least in the farming sector.

Anyway, I will leave you with a picture of wild garlic, growing near my parents’ house. It appears to have outcompeted the bluebells and it’s almost as lovely, though the aroma is quite different! Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely week.