(Anna Dillon - The Ridgeway series)       

 HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

I see my last post here was in April. A lot has happened in my life since then as my wife for 63 years died last May. But life goes on and Christmas is here. A verse of Joyce Grenfell's seems appropriate:

If I should go before the rest of you

Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone

Nor if I go speak in a Sunday voice

But be the usual selves that I have known.

Weep if you must, parting is hell.

But life goes on, so sing as well.

I had intended that this blog should close (running since 2006) since most of the others seem to have faded away. But it is something I have always enjoyed and interacting with your replies (which have likewise tended to fade away). So, "life goes on" and so will this blog.

HOW TO LOAD A RUSSIAN TANK

 

I sincerely hope that bastard Putin's army are all so incompetent!

I also submit an idea for local councils to change the front of their dog waste bins.

PIPPA (PIPS)

 

A "Hello" from Pippa (to be known by me as Pips). I have had 6 dogs over my adult life, but my last, Roxy, sadly had to be put down last July.

For some months I was just bereft, but after Christmas the urge came on me once more to get another companion. Never can such be called a "replacement" for a previous dog who can never be  "replaceable". After much searching of rescue centres, where suitable mature small dogs were gone before I could even apply for them, I decided to consult the private "dogs for sale" adverts. Again, most were gone before I could get to them.

At last, a week ago, an advert came up to sell a 6 year old Jack Russell, which was reluctantly for sale by a mature lady who was no longer mobile and was going into a one bedroom council flat where dogs were not allowed. I rang the number immediately and was told that she had had many enquiries (I should think so as many dogs are for sale at £2000/£3000 where this one was priced at £100) but no one had yet arranged to call to see her. I said I would be there by 4.00 pm - it was now 1.00 pm and snowing heavily at that time and accordingly I made the 70 mile round trip to Tunbridge Wells.

I was met by the lady carrying a towel-wrapped dog. "I have just bathed her to show her to you at her best" she said. The animal at once wriggled free of the towel and enthusiastically attached herself to me, tail going at 20 to the dozen. "Oh, she likes you. She has never done that to a stranger before" the surprised owner gasped.

I was sold! My daughter, a confirmed "dog person" has always said, "When the right dog wants you it will find you". Well this one obviously did and has.

She is a Jack Russell terrier in body, but her head is definitely Chihuahua, with her fine skull and pricked up ears. It is an excellent combination though and makes for a good looking dog. She settled in immediately, although would not eat for the first day. No problem, as she is overweight through overfeeding and lack of execise. "I just put a bowlfull of food down for her each morning and she eats it all day when she wants it", said the owner. That will change......

She goes to the vet tomorrow for a check over, vaccination and to get her over long claws clipped (lack of walks on road surfaces).

She is a quick learner and has become my little shadow, following me everywhere - but she can be a tart at times.

SPRING IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER

 A cold January morning, but the sun shone and a bike ride beckoned although time was at a premium.

A favourite run when only a couple of hours is available is to St. Rumwold's Church, Bonnington (a bench to rest on is usually available in churchyards). On reaching my destination I walked up the church pathway and these views convinced me that I needed to change my Blog Title from "Winter" to "Spring" (where this church is part of its scenery).

Daffodils were starting to bud and the Narcissi were in bloom on the yachtsman's grave. Note his grave "stone" is made from a single piece of oak - as is the memorial bench nearby, with this Stevenson quote engraved on it:

"Home is the sailor, home from the sea"

I always make use of it when I stop here and today a flask of whiskey laced coffee was very welcome whilst I enjoyed the utter silence of the landscape around this little Romney Marsh church.

Then home, refreshed, to get the lunch ready for my invalid wife.

CANNOT KEEP AWAY FROM THEM!

 

A few posts ago I mentioned that , after nearly 65 years of  riding "proper" motorcycles I had joined the dark side and bought a new "twist 'n go" scooter .

However all those years have so much engraved themselves on my riding that I found the scooter bored me solid. Everything worked, nothing to fettle and the ride was about as involving as a kitchen chair on wheels! So I sold it and bought this "barn find" (6 years at the back of an old garage). A 1997 "classic" with a bit of a difference. Uncommon in the UK but very popular in the USA and OZ. A Suzuki TU250x with 20,000 miles on the clock. Just surface rust on chrome, paintwork good, sounds and goes like a MOTORBIKE. And something with which to get my hands dirty again.

So I fitted a couple of new tyres (old ones cracked with age) and while the wheels were off new chain and sprockets (adding an extra tooth to the front sprocket to drop the revs a bit) and new front brake disk and pads. 

It will chug along sweetly at my preferred 50 mph around the lanes and cruise easily at a legal maximum 60 mph on country main roads with enough in hand for brisk overtakes (it's top speed would be around 80 mph). Motorways I avoid as totally boring.

Yes, that left foot gear change gives me a challenge since my stroke left me with neuropathy in left leg and foot,  but at least it is a challenge and something to practice and smooth out. That scooter felt to me like one step away from an invalid buggy. 

It's wonderful to be back! As long as I can hold it up I'll ride it.

ROXY

Roxy came to us in 2016 as can be viewed in this link. I had been used to German Shepherds, but, following a stroke and wanting another dog, I did not feel I could manage another Shepherd. She was a perfect little bitch who quickly became my shadow, following me everywhere and sleeping outside my bedroom door.

Recently she stopped eating and lost 3 Kilograms - a lot for a little dog whose normal weight was only 14.5 Kilos.The vet checked her over and said they could do x-rays and body scans. It would cost £500 and they could do it in about 10 days time and to go away and think about it. A crafty move. For two evenings I watched her panting and refusing to take tit bits. Not bearing to see her like it any longer I decided to take her back again to be put down (the final act of love for a much loved dog).

In the past she has walked quite happily into the vets but this time she pulled back on her lead and refused to walk up the path. In the end I had to pick her up and carry her in. Somehow she knew - weird!

The same vet saw her and said he had detected swollen lymph glands on the last visit, but had given me the option of further tests. I said I thought we both knew that the trouble was probably tumours - he did not reply but gave me a "meaningful" look.

Her end was peaceful and remarkably quick. A simple injection and she "went to sleep" with me stroking her head and murmering "Good girl". Would that humans could have this option to a peaceful end to life.

I am bereft and the house seems empty. Should I get another rescue dog? I am 82, would it be fair to the animal if I died soon and left it without me? Maybe another mature dog (Roxy was about 7 years old when she came to us). We shall see....

I have done mostly what most men do,
And pushed it out of my mind;
But I can’t forget, if I wanted to,
Four-Feet trotting behind.

Day after day, the whole day through—
Wherever my road inclined—
Four-Feet said, ‘I am coming with you!’
And trotted along behind.

Now I must go by some other round,—
Which I shall never find—
Somewhere that does not carry the sound
Of Four-Feet trotting behind.

                                                               Rudyard Kipling. 

A "WORKING LUNCH"

 Spring has truly sprung this week and a morning ride on the ebike meant that I could actually leave off a couple of layers of clothing; sun pleasant and warming on my back.

I decided on a complete change of route and abandoned Romney Marsh for a wander in the Kent Weald. My route took me into the Wealden village of Smarden, a lovely spot best described by this quote:

"This enchanting village was established in around the 14th-century at the time when the forests of the Weald of Kent were being cut down to make way for permanent villages. Smarden, is little more than one street, yet it has a host of attractive properties including large half timbered houses built by prosperous wool merchants during the 17th-century.

At the time when the forests were being cleared to make way for sheep, King Edward III chose to grant Smarden a charter to hold a weekly market, his thinking was, that this would encourage the wool trade, and how right he was. Wealthy merchants came to do trade and they settled here and built magnificent homes for themselves and their families. They also donated generously to the church. The charter granted by Edward III was endorsed by Queen Elizabeth I and hangs in the church to this day."

Being in the edge of what was once the Wealden forest of Anderida the whole village is built of wood. The large merchants' houses referred to above and the village street full of weather-boarded cottages.

I entered the village and made for the church, since experience tells me that one usually finds a bench in a churchyard and sitting on the ground is OK but getting up again is difficult without something to hold onto these days.

Ensconced in the cosy corner seat to the right of the blue porch door I settled down to enjoy a pork pie and a flask of tea. The church is in an angle of the village so the paths across the yard are used as a shortcut. An upright old gent came by and stopped. "I see you are enjoying sustenance on this warm day." His exact speech and dress complimented the overall image I had formed.

I had parked the bike on its prop stand on the other side of the path and he was obviously interested. "I have considered one of these machines to get around the village" he said, poking it with his walking stick as a farmer would poke a favourite pig.

I said that this was my fifth ebike since a stroke and it was a marvellous way of getting about and keeping active.

 "I have a car and seldom use it, but walking is beginning to get tiresome. Are they expensive?" he queried, beginning to explore the handlebars and their controls.

The upshot was that I provided him with the contact details of Ebikes Direct, my supplier at not too far away Bodiam. I think I must ask them for commission on any referrals since the amount of interest I get and conversations generated on stops is quite encouraging.

A "working lunch" indeed.

MOTHER GRIZZLY BEAR AND PLUCKY CUB

 

A parable for these times.

Keep going, folks!

COVID 21st. CENTURY v PLAGUE 17th CENTURY

 

In two successive years of the 17th century London suffered two terrible disasters. In the spring and summer of 1665 an outbreak of Bubonic Plague spread from parish to parish until thousands had died and the huge pits dug to receive the bodies were full. 

Bubonic Plague was known as the Black Death and had been known in England for centuries. It was a ghastly disease. The victim’s skin turned black in patches and inflamed glands or ‘buboes’ in the groin, combined with compulsive vomiting, swollen tongue and splitting headaches made it a horrible, agonizing killer. (Covid seems a pussy cat in comparison)

The plague started in the East, possibly China (What's new?) and quickly spread through Europe. Whole communities were wiped out and corpses littered the streets as there was no one left to bury them.

CHRISTMAS ELEVENSES

Christmas morning 2020. Very quiet. No frost but extremely cold north wind when I took the dog for her morning walk at about 8.00am.

No visitors either that day to cater for, so no traditional lunch for us to worry about. Mrs Avus was cosily ensconced in an armchair engrossed in a crossword (what's new) so I decided on a Christmas morning bike ride.

The temperature meant that I did not intend to go far and since no cafes are open I decided on a route that would bring me home in about two hours with an elevenses break halfway. That would mean somewhere to sit off the bike and that would mean looking for a churchyard on the route. They are usually equipped with a seat somewhere for weary pilgrims.

An ebike means that I am still able to continue cycling, thank God, at 82, post stroke. However I don't manage to work up any body heat since the electric genie does most of the work. However the fact that my arthritic legs revolve on the pedals helps to keep them from seizing them up! But with the temperature at 5C and the chill north wind it was going to seem like below freezing.

So layers of clothing were needed. A Damart thermolactyl long sleeve vest (top grade 5), heavy shirt, fleece sweat shirt and then a Corrine Dennis waterproof/windproof cycling jacket (in fluorescent yellow - I like to be seen). Legs were taken care of with knee length merino wool socks and full length woollen legwarmers, topped with a pair of Hebden Cord traditional cycling trousers, a make long gone. (the fact that these I have worn for 20 years and are only the third pair in my 65 years cycling shows why the firm went under. They are too well made and Lycra, which I abhor, has taken over).

I put on a silk balaclava under my cycling helmet, donned a pair of golfing mitts and was ready to go.

By golly it was cold, but the northerly was behind me and I reached Bilsington church for elevenses, a mince pie and whiskey laced coffee.

Here is the view in the opposite direction the close up blur is because with cold fingers I couldn't be bothered to go for a larger "f stop"! I think it was colder sitting there than actually riding along.

So it was a case of finishing off the flask of coffee then back on the bike to dive down the escarpment and circulate a bit of Romney Marsh before heading for home. Into that north wind,

Only about 13 miles home but even with all those layers I felt close to hypothermia when I got there! My feet were like solid blocks.

GOOD WISHES TO ALL OF YOU

A Christmas Card to wish all my fellow bloggers good health and happiness over this curious Christmas and for 2021 which I hope will be better for us all.

It is by one of my favourite artists, Anna Dillon and depicts Whitefield Hill, Wiltshire in February. I suppose she could claim copyright, but it is a good introduction to her work if you don't know of her.

2020 has been a poor year for Mrs Avus and me. My heart attack in June led to me being infected by Covid whilst in hospital, which I then gave to her as well. Soon after we emerged from that (fortunately mild) she turned yellow and stopped eating and was eventually diagnosed with a small tumour on her pancreas.This was successfully removed by a "Whipple Procedure" .

But I expect you all have encountered enough doom and gloom this year. So who would have thought that our best, joint Christmas present  was a phone call from our doctor inviting us two 82 year olds in for the first of the two anti-covid jabs tomorrow. Hurrah! Grey skies clear and angels sing Noël!

Try to keep safe and well, folks.

 

ODE AN DIE FREUDE

Fellow blogger RR caused me to recall a beloved  school master who taught us German and music. 

Sadly he died before his time, many years ago, but  THIS is to his memory

It brings chills to the spine and tears to the eyes. Well done Ludwig! (and Schiller, of course)

LAST OF A LONG LINE

 Over some 63 years I have owned various motorcycles (56 actually) some together, others singly. As life has gone by I have adapted. My first, a small BSA Bantam 150cc, I bought from necessity when doing my National Service to get to and from the army camp. It was the start of a lifelong involvement with and enjoyment in motorcycles of all kinds. you can see most of the story in a previous blog post.

Now I am 81 and neuropathy in my left leg/foot (result of a stroke about 5 years ago) has made it increasingly difficult and painful to operate the left foot gear change on a conventional bike. "Why not get an older machine with a right foot gearchange ?" you ask. Well, that would mean no electric starter and I cannot contemplate jumping up and down on a kick start any more!

I have had a number of "twist and go" automatic scooters (a shame that no motorcycles are made that way) that require no input from the feet at all. It has not been a good year for me (heart attack and hospital-acquired Covid whilst being treated) so I thought about a little treat. 

I already had such a "twist and go" (see a couple of posts back). But it was made in 2011 and had no prop stand so I needed to get off, balance on one foot and lift the scooter onto its centre stand - not easy with a dicky left leg. I tried fitting an after market prop, but to no avail. So I decided to get Honda's latest model SH125 with its updated engine and a prop stand which I could just kick down as I came to a halt. I specified all the bells and whistles - screen, hand guards and heated handlebar grips (I have poor hand circulation so these last will be useful in winter). I did consider the more powerful and faster 300cc model, but the sort of riding I do these days on country main roads and lanes and no motorways did not warrant the extra expense and weight as this 125cc can maintain an easy 60 mph if necessary and only weighs 135 kgs.

The lot came to a trifle under £4000, but the dealer, eager for sales after lockdown, allowed me £1000 on my old one. Being new it comes with a full Honda 2 year warranty, which will probably last me with it until I eventually have to give up motorcycling for good. Then I shall sell it for a good price as a recent model with a very low mileage.

So, my 57th "motorcycle" and last of the line. I would it was still my old BMW 1000cc, but one has to make necessary adjustments for age and health if one needs to keep the glass half full.

(And I will still have and enjoy riding my pedal ebike)

OUT CYCLING ONCE MORE

As mentioned in my previous post I had a heart attack and contracted Covid-19 in hospital whilst being treated. Consequently June 2020 is practically a lost month to me and my poor wife who was infected by me on return home. So we only really surfaced again in July.

July was a month of careful rehabilitation - Covid, even mildly as ours, takes in out of you. But August has seen me out and about on the ebike once more, although some days were far too hot for cycling.

So a cheery photo of an exceptional encounter whilst cycling alongside one of the many dykes on Romney Marsh. Mum and Dad Swan leading a flight of eight cygnets whom they have successfully preserved from the predations of Marsh foxes.

Truly a"resurgam" moment both for them and my spirits!

LIFE'S LITTLE PROBLEMS....

About three weeks ago I had a heart attack. I had been feeling a bit uncomfortable but decided, as usual that a ride out on the ebike would take me through it. It didn't. Towards the end of the ride I wondered if I would make it home, with left shoulder pain, running up into left cheek and jaw. But I got there, slung the bike in the garage and went in to flop out in a chair for the rest of the day.

Next morning I emailed my GP who told me he was writing a letter for me to take to A&E and my wife should drive me there. On arrival I was immediately tested for Covid-19 and admitted to the cardiac unit for an Angiogram next day. This was performed and a stent fitted as part of the procedure and I was discharged next day. Job done.

However, I had further symptoms so got readmitted three days later - again tested for Covid. But the next day I was in isolation since I was now Covid positive! I had been nowhere since the previous hospital visit so presumably I caught "it" during that first stay. Then I was sent home again where, of course, I infected my wife.

So we were now both in self isolation (what's new - we have been religiously self isolating since a month before lockdown began),  Not a happy situation with me recovering from the heart attack and my poor wife going down with the plague too. But we have shared lives for over 60 years - and illnesses, so another step along the road together.

Fortunately the Covid was not a serious infection and did not go "respiratory" - just as well since my wife has a very poor immune system due to rheumatoid arthritis drugs.

We are slowly resurfacing, but riding a bike, even the "e" variety is out at present. I miss it - so does my skeleton which is seizing up from lack of use - even the dog is missing her short walks.

RETREAT AND INVASION

Dunkirk and the subsequent D Day invasions of WW II have been in the news just recently. But little has been mentioned of our great naval planner for both these events - the rout of the British army and then the triumphant allied invasion that led to victory.

He was Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsey KCB KCE who served in WW I and was recalled from retirement at the outbreak of war in 1939. His statue stands overlooking the cliffs at Dover Castle where he planned and executed both Operation Dynamo (the Dunkirk evacuation) and Operation Overlord (the D Day invasions) from the operation rooms deep below in the cliff tunnels.

Underneath this  verse appears

A great man, highly intelligent and self effacing. One of  our little known commanders. A separate display explains his part in it all

And is followed by this verse of Masefield's

Today's problems are put into perspective. We could use his skills now.

JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR (3)

In my wanderings around the Fifth Quarter of the World - "The World, according to the best geographers, is divided into Europe, Asia, Africa, America and Romney Marsh" (Rev. Richard Barham) I tend to avoid the coast around Dymchurch during the holiday period, from Easter until late August. This is because the little town, or large village, is the magnet for daily  and seasonal holidaymakers. The first because it is so accessible from the towns of East Kent and the second because there is a number of large residential caravan parks in the vicinity.

However, during this Easter week I decided to cycle the 15 miles down to it to see how the "lockdown" was affecting it.

The lanes I cycled on the way were absolutely deserted by the usual traffic, making my journey pleasantly quiet and brought back memories of my early cycling days in the 1950s. But, on reaching Dymchurch I found it a ghost town, with all shops closed and shuttered and very little traffic in a High Street, which at this time of year, is usually quite difficult to cross.

Of course my usual cafe was amongst all those closures, but I had allowed for this and packed a raspberry jam sandwich and banana (the ultimate in naturally self-packaged cycling snacks) along with a flask of coffee, laced, as usual, with whiskey.

I rode up onto the sea wall to sit and eat my elevenses and viewed the sands which in Easter week would normally be teeming with holidaymakers. I could just make out one man and his dog.

 The sea wall is usually a favourite promenade, but this year, no one

Quite eery, really. I felt alone in a deserted world and it is not something I would ever wish for again, in spite of being a solitary and natural avoider of noisy crowds.

Coronavirus USA..............

I see the current deaths from Coronavirus in USA at running at about 30,000...................

JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR (2) The kindness of neighbours

We live in a large close of 48 houses, subdivided into a number of smaller, five house closes.Being on the entrance corner we have a good view of all that passes in and out.

A number of inhabitants, us included, are old and retired, some are widows/widowers. 

We have tended to nucleate with neighbours immediately surrounding us and our neighbour on the opposite side of the road came up with the idea of all keeping in touch during these unusual, self isolated times. He (and others) is using the "Whatsapp" smartphone app to do this, but some of us old Luddites do not have smartphones. 

So we have all have initiated a system whereby, if OK and in good health, a green paper is displayed in a window. If needing help with anything one changes this to a red paper and a passing neighbour will get in contact.

It takes me back to the village where I was a boy. Everyone knew everybody else and if you needed anything you stood in the doorway to hail a passer by. Since there were only 10 cars in the village (mostly owned by farmers) everybody walked past to get to the one shop.

Fortunately no "red cards" have been displayed yet in our close...........

ALL FOOLS DAY 2020