Tag Archives: Triar

Cancelled

Blog, Hillwalking, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Writing, , , , , , ,

I was meant to be going to York this week for a conference on TB. I suppose I’m not surprised, but my trip was cancelled yesterday afternoon as they need me to cover duty vet from Tuesday evening to Thursday morning. I knew others had already cancelled, and really it was going to be hard to fit in my TB cases (and ongoing work round the bird flu outbreak) around it, but I am disappointed. It would have been a good chance to meet with the UK APHA team who are trying to eradicate the disease from the UK and to better understand the fuller picture.

I do have a day of flexi booked for Monday and at least that is being honoured. I’m paying a flying visit to see mum and dad, so that can still go ahead. They are still in the throes of moving house, so help is needed.

On the home front, the decorator finally arrived on Monday and has been doing a sterling job on the woodwork bedrooms upstairs and the hallway. I asked him to paint the hall white. It’s an old house and rather dark, so this seemed like a good plan, but it struck me when looking at it that I’m used to Scandinavian white walls with wooden skirtings, that break the whole thing up. It’s not quite finished, but I’m now looking at what I can hang on the walls and how many plants I need to bring in to break up the blank look. I don’t really have the spare mental capacity or indeed the finances to tackle it all at once, but I’ve been living in a building site for more than a year now. I can wait a bit longer.

I was out yesterday at two farms. One has a TB outbreak, the other has been put under restrictions because some stock from the first farm are being overwintered there. When a farm has an animal that reacts to a TB test (or where TB typical lesions are found at the slaughterhouse) that farm is automatically placed under a movement restriction. This isn’t as cataclysmic as the bans for bird flu (which mean everyone and everything coming on and off the farm needs a licence) but it does mean cattle can’t be moved on or off.

Straightforward enough, you’d think, but I’ve been amazed since returning to the UK, to find out how intricate the UK farming industry is. Perhaps I just wasn’t seeing some of the detail, but mostly in Norway it seemed that cattle were born on a farm, grew up there, gave birth and milked and/or raised their young (some of which were sent to the abattoir when big enough) then died. People sometimes sold animals and of course, they were moved from winter housing to summer grazing, but mostly I wasn’t aware of too much moving around.

Here in the UK, many beef cattle are born on one farm then go to the market and are sold as “stores”. They stay on that farm for a while, then go back to the market and are sold as “finishers”, before finally being sent for slaughter. In addition to that, lots of farms send a few of their cattle to overwinter on someone else’s farm. I guess this maximises the number of animals. If you have plenty of grazing, but not quite enough housing, and someone else has sheds they’re not using, it makes sense in a way, but from a notifiable disease perspective, all these moves are a nightmare.

So then, back to my second farm that is under restrictions because there are animals there from the breakdown farm. There are animals from three farms on that premises. They are there for the winter, but there isn’t grazing space in the summer and now they are under restrictions where they can’t be moved off until we are as sure as we can be that none of them have TB.

Not talking about the specific farm, but in general, there are various possible groups. Some might be finishers, so they can still go to the slaughterhouse (under licence) when they are big enough. Others might be dairy heifers. They are overwintered on farms where there is no dairy or facilities. If they are in calf and calving is imminent, they may need to be moved to somewhere they can calve and then be milked.

As you can imagine, this all becomes very complicated. Occasionally we can move animals on welfare grounds, but all such moves have to be justified, with an assessment of how much it will increase the risk of spreading disease and how much it might cost the government if a healthy animal is moved to an infected premises and picks up the disease. I must admit, I often look at this whole web of movements and wish it didn’t happen.

Anyway, after looking at this particular situation, I now need to apply for general licences for the two sets of finishers that are present, then I need to call the third farmer, who I haven’t yet spoken to (the land owner should have informed him of the restrictions, but I can’t control what third parties do) and ask what animals he has there and whether they are fine there for the foreseeable future, or whether being there longer than expected might create a welfare problem.

So as you can probably see, finding a single animal that has reacted to a TB test can cause a cascade of work. And that’s before we start to look at testing neighbouring animals that might have said hello over a wall, or where animals might have come from and been sold to. In one of my other cases, they have finally identified the strain of the bacteria. Now I have to look at other farms where they’ve had related strains to see if I can find any links. It’s fascinating work, but there’s quite a lot of it and a finite amount of time in which to do it. So really, it’s probably just as well I’m not going to York, but it’s still a bit sad I can’t go.

Last week, Triar and I walked up Knockendock, which is a smaller hill attached to Criffel, which we walked up last summer. It was a bit misty on top, but Triar posed very prettily beside the cairn, as you can see in the picture at the top of the page. There was a great view from nearly the top and I survived walking through a high-level peat bog without unexpectedly sitting down or falling on my face, which was undoubtedly a result!

For me, seeing Triar trotting happily ahead of me is one of the best views possible. But that’s all for now. Thanks for reading and 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.

.

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.

Comfort

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To all those who disapprove of dogs on the bed, please avert your eyes! Triar was not only on mine this morning, but IN it, as you can see. It’s not as cold now as it was in midwinter, but he’s still much better than a hot water bottle in the depths of the night.

I am finally moving on from the horrors of the Farm of Doom. It has taken me all week to do the paperwork, but I sent the last lot in late yesterday afternoon and felt lighter for it. I will likely get it back for amendments (my new Veterinary Advisor is lovely, but the opposite of slapdash) but the hardest work is over. I have sorted out all the photos into different folders for different dates.

I think it will go to court, so I will have to prepare a statement, but I can face those images now, even if some still pain me to the point of tears. There’s always a great big Why? in my head as I contemplate these things. How did it come to that point? But I guess that’s also something I hope never to know, because I hope I would never reach the point where I could neglect a living animal without reaching out for help or ensuring someone else steps in, but surely everyone normal thinks the same?

On Wednesday, I was tired. Good sleep is still intermittent, but I went to a church meeting in the evening with the possibility of writing group afterwards. At the end of the church meeting, I decided I would drive home while it was still light. I was rewarded with a beautiful sunset as I drove back down the hill near Torthorwald and I stopped to take photos.

There was, I noticed (bottom right in the top photo) an old road sign, telling the distances to Dumfries and “Lockerby” so I took a picture of that too. It happens quite often when I stop to admire something beautiful, that I notice something else to enjoy, that I would otherwise have missed.

I was unexpectedly rewarded, last thing on Friday, with an early, negative test result (work related) which means that a large body of work I thought I was going to have to tackle next week is no longer necessary. There is still routine work booked in (another welfare follow up, but I know it won’t be harrowing) and evidence shuffling from the Farm of Doom. However, I will now (hopefully) have time to tackle a task I will enjoy much more – building towards a training module for an aspect of TB case handling.

Not sure if I’m odd, but I love writing Standard Operating Procedures or instructions that are clear to follow. It seems intuitive to me to explain things, step by step, in easy to understand language.

I had the experience in Norway of taking many courses and doing a lot of training. There are few things more frustrating than having to go back and listen to three minutes of semi-comprehensible speil attached to a PowerPoint slide, over and over to catch the last few phrases that were quickly slurred and not written on the screen. It means that training that should take twenty minutes, takes an hour. Working in a language that is not your mother tongue has many unconsidered complications.

As we have many new starting vets who have (as I did) done slaughterhouse work until their language skills improved enough to do something a bit more challenging, I think understanding that will be very useful.

Anyway, I suppose I should get up and do some painting. The new bedrooms are not going to paint themselves and work has stopped until I do them. Hopefully this weekend should see that particular job completed. I’ll leave you with a couple of shots from Blackbird Lane. Have a lovely week all.

O Come…

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So Christmas day has come and gone. The butcher in Settle created a decent enough ribbe (pork roast joint, traditional in Norway) even if he cut the crackling into cross-hatched diamonds instead of squares. There were roast potatoes and pigs in blankets and Triar barked so much at the first cracker that we gave up with only one cracked. Odd that he can withstand fireworks outside without blinking an eye, but inside the house, it’s a definite no.

His harness is also significantly tighter than it was when we came down five days ago. I know he had his usual pig in blanket Christmas dinner, but in addition, I suspect he’s been a useful receptacle for leftovers in a house where throwing away food is anathema and that was before he pinched an entire packet of Scottish tablet that he found in one of the bedrooms. That was only yesterday. By some miracle, we have made it through the night, undisturbed. I was expecting explosions at one end or the other, but it seems his digestive system is robust enough to withstand 600 calories of sugar and butter. We’re going to have to do a whole lots of walking when we get home to get it all back off again. As for him, no worries about explosions, he’s still hoping for more.

Christmas highlights included Triar opening his present. This year’s annual Kong teddy is a festive red effort. I also had a lovely laugh during a Zoom Christmas Eve church service I attended. I have started going to church in Scotland and wanted to go on Christmas day, but it was complicated by the fact that I was chief cook.

I know when I was a child, we used all to go to Church on Christmas morning. Grandma must have left the turkey cooking and we likely ate late, but I didn’t think that would work, and so I began to consider remote attendance. Geoff, one of my friends from the writing group I attend – also Donna’s father-in-law – is responsible for the video link in his church up in Lockerbie and so I asked him, and very conveniently, their Christmas service was on Christmas Eve.

It was a nice enough service and the filming was excellent, but the pièce de résistance came during the final carol – Oh Come All Ye Faithful. A small child had been called up to light the Christmas candle and he remained near the microphone in the aftermath. O Come, All Ye Faithful had quite a lot of verses and I spent the first couple smiling at the man who was unable to resist singing the first Oh come, let us adore him, despite the instruction that only the women should sing, but as the verses went on, the small child began at first, humming the chorus, as if to alleviate the boredom, and as the hymn went on, he was getting more and more into it. By the last chorus, he was belting the O comes out, wonderfully tunelessly. For Geoff, it highlighted a technical problem with the microphone, but I loved the raucous singing as that little boy found some entertainment. It’s also a reminder to me of the lack of children in the church I have joined. If the church is to survive, we need to embrace its children and smile at whatever they bring.

On Boxing Day, John, Yoana and I braved the fog on the tops and drove over to Malham for a walk to Janet’s Foss at Malham. Everyone else seems to have had the same idea, but we found a parking space and had a lovely walk.

Towards the end, the sun almost broke through and for a moment, there was blue sky.

But the mist met us again as we drove back up the hill and it’s been grey and damp in Settle every day since. I worked yesterday. I had received permission to work in Yorkshire for a day, though had something urgent come in, I would have had to rush back. My emergency kit is in the car. But now I am on holiday until the 7th of January, so I can now hopefully relax and maybe get a bit of writing in.

Anyway, wherever you are, I hope you have found some joy in this Christmas time. Thank you for reading and I will see you all in the new year.

Missing Norway

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I don’t have many photos this week. Though I was out and about a couple of days, the weather has mostly been grey and uninspiring. Now we are in the midst of Storm Darragh (though where I am, in Yorkshire, it doesn’t seem to be windy) so I’m not likely to rush out and get many pictures. As you can see from the picture at the top of the page, I have made myself an advent crown and have actually bought the proper purple candles that are common in Norway.

I am enjoying the advent calendars from Jacquie Lawson I was given last year and the year before. The Sussex one is particularly lovely. One thing I didn’t notice the first year was that the snow in the pictures gets gradually deeper as the days go by. I only realized when it reset last year, because it happened gradually. I took a couple of screenshots for comparison.

I’ve also just realised that I took the pictures at different times of day as well. It actually gets dark at night in the calendars. They really are beautifully detailed and I love looking at them in the lead up to Christmas.

There are Christmas programmes starting to appear on TV as well. Last night, we watched Susan Calman take a Christmas trip on Hurtigruten (boats that travel up and down Norway taking goods and passengers as well as tourists). She stopped off at the North Cape and at Finnsnes to visit Senja and it brought back so many wonderful memories. Though winter was very long, it was stunningly beautiful. I was rarely short of photos to share with you.

I am often asked if I regret coming back and it’s a difficult thing to answer. There were things over there that I loved. I enjoyed working for Mattilsynet more than I enjoy working for APHA, though the barriers thrown up by my imperfect grasp of the Norwegian language were always an impediment. I miss the magical feeling when the aurora lit up the night sky in its slow, endless dance. I miss my friends. I contacted Trude a few days ago when I was investigating a welfare referral from the slaughterhouse and just that small act brought me joy, as do the messages and photos from Shirley.

I feel incredibly blessed in the friends department though, as since returning to Scotland, I’ve also reconnected with many wonderful people, as well as meeting new ones. I guess the answer to whether I regret coming back is, mostly no. The reasons I returned are still there and I have some incredible memories to look back on. I guess my main wish would be that I could travel more and spend time in both countries.

I entered a Christmas card competition at work. They asked for winter pictures, which I have plenty of. The one I sent in was taken on a wonderful walk on Senja with John and Triar. It was taken in 2020, our first year there and our first Polar night. An icy cold day in December, with the sun, just below the horizon, casting amazing golden light through the bare branches of the trees. I expect the competition will be stiff, but hopefully they will enjoy my entry.

I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I’ve already booked another holiday in Shetland for next year. That’s in May, so something to look forward to. I’ve booked a pet friendly cabin, so Triar will be able to explore Shetland with me this time. I mentioned it last night and Mum asked me last night when I would be going to Norway, which is a difficult question. Not because I’m not intending to go, but because I’m finding it hard to know what time of year I should visit. I’m very tempted to go up North during Polar night, but that won’t be this winter. I feel like a holiday hoarder, saving up the days and calculating how many I can spare for all the places I want to go!

Anyway, the rain is hammering against the window and it feels like time to go and make a nice hot coffee. Today is probably going to be a day for huddling inside. I hope that, wherever you are, that you stay safe. Have a good week all!

Autumn Sunrises

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The storm came last Sunday, as forecast. It wailed around the thick walls of my snug little house and wuthered in the chimney. Despite having no doors on the rooms upstairs, my living room stayed warm and cosy. I grew up in houses where the central heating was in minimal use and one room was kept warm with a fire, so it was nothing new. With Triar snuggling on his sheepskin rug beside me, we weathered the storm in comfort.

Triar seems to have recovered well, for which I am enormously thankful. I was out with a colleague from the local authority on Wednesday. He also lives alone with his dog and we discussed how much a dog becomes part of your life when it’s just you and them. My morning walks down Blackbird Lane are shared with Triar and without him, I might never have walked there. More than anything else, those walks help me stay centred and because Triar enjoys exploring all the scents under the hedgerows, we take our time. As he sniffs around, I enjoy the birdsong.

Wednesday was a particularly beautiful morning, calm at sunrise, with mist rising over the fields and the birds were in full song. It’s a while since I used my Merlin App, but the Dawn chorus was so beautiful that I pulled the phone out of my pocket and switched it on. As well as the inevitable blackbirds, sparrows and robin (his sweet little song always lifts my heart) I picked up the song thrush that breaks snails on my patio, a long tailed tit and a goldcrest, among other things.

I took some photos too… of course I did!

Despite knowing I had a potentially difficult day ahead, there was a true moment of peace, there in Blackbird Lane.

I’m not sure whether it’s the time of year, or whether it’s the fact that the other vet that works with me has been seconded to another department, but the welfare referrals have gone crazy in the last two weeks. My lovely line manager has been away, so these were passed on by other managers from another region and I think there were seven of them altogether. Wednesday’s sounded most urgent and there’s at least one that (in my opinion) isn’t an indicator of poor welfare at all, but it is overwhelming.

When I say it might be the time of year, several of them came from slaughterhouses. As winter approaches, the farmers send off their old stock that will struggle through the cold weather, so inevitably those include animals with problems. Part of my job involves reminding farmers that welfare doesn’t end on the farm, but needs to continue until the end of the animal’s life. If it isn’t fit to travel, or perhaps it is, but shouldn’t go far, then they need to work out whether it should be taken to a local abattoir, or culled on the farm without going anywhere.

Too many farmers rely on someone coming to collect their cull cows and “organize all that,” when they should be making the arrangements themselves. Difficult to change the mindset, when that’s what they’ve always done but it’s a discussion I’ll be having a lot. Getting the best price for the meat or taking the most convenient path shouldn’t be the standard. Given the animal has given them the best part of its life, its welfare in death should be given decent consideration. If taking that cow with overgrown hooves to the local abattoir saves them from me and the local authority turning up to inspect all their animals and paperwork, that’s surely a good thing? Even if that’s their only incentive, I try to make it count.

Anyway, it’s almost breakfast time, so I shall wind this up. Triar and I came down to Yorkshire yesterday evening on the train. It’s not too expensive and as winter comes in, it might be more relaxing than driving, so we gave it a try. Luckily, Triar is an old hand on trains now. Here he is, under the table.

Have a good week all. Thanks for reading.

Before the Storm

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There were two beautiful mornings in Blackbird Lane the week before last that I want to share with you. I took the photo at the top of the page and the one below on Monday the 7th.

Mist hung above the fields, but the light was beautiful, catching the wonderful clarity of the raindrops, left there by a shower.

Four days later, it was frosty and again, I couldn’t resist taking photographs in the sparkling morning light.

I was taken out for a driver training course on the Thursday. The instructor asked why I was there. I must have triggered something when I answered some questions at work about my driving, but the only one I can think of was that I said I drive when I’m tired. If anyone working in field services (as I do) said they never drive when tired, they are not being entirely truthful. After a long day on a physical job on a farm, we all have to get home. That’s just how it is. Anyway I drove the instructor to Tebay service station and had a coffee and a pie, then drove her back. She says I’m a good driver, so no complaints about that one!

Last Sunday, I met an old friend from university and had a meal with him in Lockerbie. We then decided to go and look at a section of the west side of Hadrian’s wall, as it wasn’t too far away. It’s an impressive sight, even now: well constructed and taller than I am, so I couldn’t see over it. It was originally four metres high when it was built almost 2000 years ago. It must have been very commanding and Hadrian must have been very alarmed by all the evil Scots!

This week has been a real mixed bag. I was meant to be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today, to do some bluetongue surveillance, but on Tuesday, I was told that there was tracing work to be done here in Scotland and I couldn’t be spared. I was a bit frustrated as I was looking forward to getting away and doing some outbreak work.

The high point of my week was on Tuesday, when I visited a vet practice for a routine inspection over Wigtown way. It went well and I decided to spend lunchtime in a cafe in Wigtown called ReadingLasses. They had run out of soup and were only serving coffee and cake, so I chose a coffee and martini cake, which really was as delicious as it looks. Wigtown is also Scotland’s book town, as I’ve mentioned before, and as you can see in the photo below, and maybe guessed from its name, ReadingLasses was filled with books by and about women. I read the first two chapters of a book about crofting life with my cake and will definitely return for the following two next time I’m over that way.

Thursday wasn’t so good. I woke up and found that Triar’s breathing was not right. He was obviously struggling a bit, needing more effort to breathe out than was normal. I had woken at six and the vet didn’t open until 8:30 – he wasn’t bad enough to warrant an out of hours call – so I had a frightening couple of hours, during which my lovely friend Lara called me and calmed me down, talking through what to do.

By some miracle, the vet Triar knows had an appointment at 8:45, so I rushed Triar there. I think he has some kind of inflammation in his lungs, or pneumonia, but don’t know what’s causing it. He’s had a steroid injection and is doing a bit better, but for now, I’m waiting and monitoring and hoping he goes in the right direction. Lung problems in dogs can be difficult to diagnose and treat. This is the one time I wish I was working in practice, as I would do way more tests, though of course that can also cause more problems. Patience is very hard though and the realization of how precious he is to me was brought home by the wave of emotion. I was no use for work on Thursday morning and fortunately, my manager was very understanding.

So after all, I am very grateful to not be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today. Triar and I will have a quiet weekend together. The weather warnings say there’s a storm on the way, so we will shelter together here and hope for better things next week.

Druid Dog

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Last weekend, I made it to Torhouse Stone circle. I read somewhere, maybe at the site itself, that it consisted of a circle of “dumpy stones” but I see that Wikipedia calls them granite boulders, which sounds much better, so I’ll stick with that! There are nineteen stones in the circumference of the circle and three in the centre, and here, for the avoidance of doubt, is the Druid dog himself, who decided he would look very dashing, with his lovely silky ears getting all windswept and interesting.

As you can see, there were cows and a beautiful view, so I shall post a picture of that, without a dog in the way.

The age of the circle is not completely clear. They have yet to be excavated, but Historic Environment Scotland estimates that it is 4,000 years old which, if correct, would make it a bit younger than Cairn Holy (I posted about that here) and Stonehenge. On my online searches, I also discovered there is a particularly stunning looking stone circle in the Lake District, but I think that one will have to wait for the winter months, when all the tourists have departed.

From Torhouse, I drove on to Wigtown, hoping for coffee in ReadingLasses, but the centre of town was so busy with parked cars that I decided that too, could wait for another day. I drove on, down towards the harbour and saw a sign pointing to “Martyrs’ Stake”. The path looked enticing, so putting Triar on his lead, I decided to follow it.

A multitude of dragonflies flitted across the path at the beginning and later, there were brambles, filled with fruit. This little guy caught my ear with its drowsy summer buzz, so I took its photo, then carried on.

The stake itself was modern, which I confess disappointed me. I had been hoping for another standing stone, which technically this is, but it’s a newly placed monument, not an ancient artifact. Two women, Margaret Maclauchlan and Margaret Wilson were executed here on 11 May, 1685 for refusing to swear an oath declaring James VII of Scotland as head of the church. They were tied to stakes on the town’s mudflats, apparently, and allowed to drown with the rising tide. I’m not going to attempt to explain the Covenanters, or Scottish history in this post, but it was certainly a particularly cruel fate for those two poor women.

We stopped on the way home at Carsluith Castle. Like several other Historic Environment Scotland sites, it is closed to assess whether it’s safe, but there was a pleasant cafe in what would once have been its yard, where I had a very civilized cup of tea. There was also a delicatessen shop, which I will have to explore another day. It was too hot to leave Triar in the car, so he joined me outside, once I had ordered my drink.

It was good to get home to my nice, cool house. The walls are so thick that, even on warm summer days, it stays cool inside, and Donna assures me that it will stay easily warm in winter. Hopefully once I get the insulation put in the roof, that will be even more true.

A little later, I received a text from Donna, which said “If you’re home and at a loose end there’s a bottle of wine open and the chiminea is on. Making the most of the only day of summer 😂”. Well who could resist an offer like that? I decided on tea, instead of wine, but sat in Donna’s garden until the sun had gone down and it was properly dusk.

And now, a week later, I’m back at Valerie’s. I am attending a church meeting with her and her husband Charles, with a shared meal, for which Valerie prepared some delicious looking, traditional South African milk tarts last night. Tomorrow I’m going to a mini writing retreat with a group of writers I belong to. We meet in Lockerbie twice a month, and the mini-retreat is a little extra treat, which I am very much looking forward to.

It’s been a good week in various ways, but Triar has been telling me for the past few minutes that it’s time to get up, so I’d better go. I’ll leave you with a little gift the spiders in Blackbird Lane wove for me. Isn’t it beautiful?

Thanks for reading!

Wading Through

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

No trip down Watery Lane this week, but after a colourful sunrise on Saturday morning, Dad, Triar and I took a walk along the bank of the river Ribble. It was another frosty afternoon and Triar enjoyed frisking among the trees and then chomping down on a few flavoursome, frozen cow pats!

I worked from home (in Yorkshire) on Monday, then headed up the road to stay with Donna. She has made me feel very welcome all week. She told me on the first evening that she would be starting a Pilates class on Tuesday. As I was still feeling quite couch potatoish after all those long spells lounging around on trains and boats, I asked if I could join her. I’m admittedly more chewed apple core than core of steel, but we’ve booked again for next week and will probably book up a few new years classes so as to get in there before the amateurs, who will only realise on New Year’s Day that it’s time to tone up.

A few weeks back, Donna put up a winter menu for Carlo’s Italian restaurant in Castle Douglas, which sounded both delicious and very reasonable at £15 for two courses. She was meeting a friend, but added me into that as well. This was the mushroom crostini, which was rich with garlic and cream and easily as delicious as it looked.

I won’t add an image of my main course as it also involved mushrooms and looked quite similar, but we were all full enough to decide not to order dessert. I did have a liquor coffee though, which came with a mince pie and a chocolate mint. Being back in Scotland definitely suits me!

The wading through of the title doesn’t refer to water or mud. Rather it is in honour of my first full week at work, which was bogged down in IT issues and induction. I was introduced to many other members of the team in various online meetings and in a short blurb I wrote about myself, which boss K sent round in an e-mail.

Wanting to seem keen and enthusiastic, I carefully avoided using any hint of implication that the work I was doing felt like slogging through a treacle infested swamp, but on Thursday K herself used the phrase when she asked me how I was getting on. Still, I’m quite good at wading so I’ve already got through courses on Equality and Diversity, Health and Safety, Civil Service Expectations, Counter Fraud Bribery and Corruption and Security and Data Protection.

Having done the last of those courses, I was reminded that I should ask K whether it was okay to continue with this blog. After all, the course had told me, as a newly minted member of the civil service I was ripe for criminals to attempt an attack. Presumably if the farmers pay me enough, they will get through their TB tests with flying colours and I will turn a blind eye to their incipient blue tongue or bird flu outbreaks. The rules did seem quite strict though, and I was concerned that K would ban me from mentioning anything about my new role online, but having read last week’s entry, she thought it would be fine to continue so it looks like you’re all stuck with me for a bit longer!

Yesterday, I met R, my veterinary counterpart from Stranraer and LM, my Veterinary Advisor, who will be guiding me through my first cases. I asked whether I might be able to go to Stranraer to shadow R in some cases and LM suggested I might be able to go for a few days, which would be lovely, both in terms of getting to know other parts of the team better, and seeing a bit more of Stranraer. The most criminal behaviour I came across over there was a farmer, who told me on a date that he didn’t think I could calve a cow if he couldn’t manage it. Perhaps he was more skilled than the average farmer* but as I was only ever called out when they couldn’t manage and had experienced few problems, I wasn’t impressed with his first date contemplations. Funnily enough, we didn’t make it to a second date. Still, you know I’m now old, free and single. There’s always the chance of a second crack of the whip. Bring it on, I say!

*He wasn’t.

After the Rain

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

On Saturday afternoon last week, Anna, Triar and I were due to board the ferry that would take us from Amsterdam to Newcastle. Having quit the AirBnB at ten, it felt like a long day as we waited in Amsterdam central station. Originally we had planned to return to Cafe Luxembourg to try more croquettes, but we were back to carrying our cross-Europe luggage in the rain and the idea of getting somewhere under cover, close to where we had to catch the bus that would take us to the ferry was quite appealing. We spent a good while sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts, stretching out cups of coffee before we moved to a gourmet burger place, which had the added advantage of having its own toilet. Given how many shops there are, as well as trains and buses, the general toilet provision in Amsterdam Centraal is entirely inadequate. Fortunately the burger was also delicious!

The view outside was also worth looking at, especially as an incoming rain shower spread a rainbow across the skyline.

At three thirty, we boarded the bus and by four thirty, we were in our dog friendly cabin on the boat. On the Stavanger – Hirtshals ferry, I think we might have been the only passengers with a dog, but now we definitely had company. The dog next door was crying and there was periodic barking along the corridor, probably in response to the racket of car alarms wailing away on the nearby car deck, but Triar was an old hand at boat travel by now and within a few minutes, he was curled up on a bunk bed, peacefully sleeping.

I had been concerned about coming through customs with a dog to declare when we arrived the following morning, but in the event, after a quick passport check, we were waved on through. A short bus ride into Newcastle took us to the station and before long, we were on the last leg of our journey. We had a rather chilly stop on Carlisle station, but I got to use the lovely sitting mat I received from my friends and colleagues at the abattoir for the first time. I can confirm that it works well!

It didn’t take Triar long to settle in at Mum and Dad’s. Though I had assured Mum that she didn’t need to buy him any food, he was soon chomping down on a packet of bacon treats and his usual dry rations have been partially replaced with some tasty looking Pedigree sachets with jelly. I guess any visit to Grandma and Grandad’s will always result in being spoiled, at least a bit.

Having been incredibly fortunate with the weather for both our ferry crossings, a storm hit on the Tuesday that blew down a tree on the railway line, delaying Anna’s homeward travel, and shut off the electricity for a few hours. I arrived back from dropping Anna off in Skipton to find the house in near darkness. Much as I love candlelight, I prefer to have other options, so I was very glad when the lights came back on, just after ten.

As for the start of my new life in Scotland, things are gradually falling into place. I have rented a house, which I haven’t seen yet, but which will give me a bit more time to find somewhere to buy. I’ve looked at cars, but because new taxation is being brought in that punishes those with older cars if they need to drive into cities, I am going to have to save up to get a newer car than a direct replacement for my beloved, ten year old BMW. In the meantime, Dad will let me use his car. We’ll see how that goes. My intention is to come down most weekends for now, but if Mum and Dad need it back, I may have to come up with a different solution.

I’ve got a UK phone now, though as yet, I haven’t used it at all. And I’ve ordered a refurbished laptop from a shop in Skipton. Writing this block or e-mails is possible on my iPad, but everything else has to be done on paper right now.

Anyway, after days of rain, yesterday morning I woke up to one of those beautiful golden mornings, when the sunrise is softened by low lying mist and the tops of the black winter trees stand graceful in the morning light.

Today the rain is hurling itself against the window again, but it’s cosy inside. Mum and I started making the Christmas pudding on Thursday. The mixture is in the fridge and should be maturing nicely. We’ll cook it tomorrow. I’ve also sent off for some candles for an advent crown and they’re winging towards me as I write. Next week, I’ll be back in Dumfries and I’ll see the house that will be my home for the next few months. I’m feeling optimistic about what’s coming next. See you next week.