Monthly Archives: March 2016

Summer Time!

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Wow! There had been nothing in weather forecasts that I had seen or heard which had led me to anticipate t h a t when I came through to the kitchen at 6am this morning (Easter Monday, 28/03/16); big, heavy, ‘Christmassy’ snowflakes falling straight down. However, two hours later, after I’d taken my coffee back to bed and half slept and dreamt through the ‘Today’ programme which seemed to be being broadcast from a performance of ‘Patience’ in Penrith(?!), the snow at this level has turned to drizzle, though there’s a good covering on the Moor.

‘Summer Time’ started yesterday, of course, which was also Easter Day, a coincidence which can’t crop up all that often. I played ‘Father Easter’ to both families, popping down first to Linthwaite with choccy-thingies for the children, a little b-day pressy for Chris and a bottle of Vouvray for him and Michelle to share; then later on we went over to Sharlston with another sackful of goodies for big girls and a little one, not to mention more bottles for grown-ups, who provided a more than ample Easter Sunday lunch, or dinner as I think I’m supposed to say in Yorkshire ….

Aye, tha should – we don’t know this ‘lunch’ word round ere. Tha’ll stick out like a sore thumb if tha carries on talking funny. …

Thanks for that, Franky. Did you enjoy your wash last week?

Aye, ta very much; tha got round to it in th’end.

How about yesterday’s journeys?

They were OK; no hold-ups, but comin back ome were a bit tough, eh? Fust it chucked heavy rain at us, then we was goin straight west into bright sunlight, reflected ont wet roads.

Yes – a bit hard, that. No plans today (though as a fan of Rupert Davies as Maigret in the early sixties, I’m looking forward to seeing how Rowan Atkinson plays the part this evening), a house viewing tomorrow and a consultation with an oncologist on Thursday. That’s in Bradford, after babysitting in Sharlston on Wednesday evening.

 

Tough Drives!

Now then, Franky, lad – we’ve had a couple of difficult drives these last two days, eh?

Aye, we av an all.

Do you want to tell folk about them?

Aye, appen I could. Fust up, we ad to get from ome to Wharfedale, Bolton Abbey – it’s grand up yon! – but there’s no good way to get there, like, is there? It’s all stop, start, crawl, roundabouts, traffic lights – hardly any open road along whole o’ t’way.

You’re right – SatNav said an hour and a half to do 40 miles, so I allowed two hours, and we needed it! But we got there just on time to find Philip and family already installed in the ‘Devonshire Arms’, where we had a very tasty lunch. (No photos – again, if GPT wants to send some, I’ll add them – they should include Judi, who wasn’t there at the brunch on Monday.)

Aye, well; after that, we ad to get down to Wakefield in time for tea – but tha took us a long way round, like, eh?

I did, yes. Carol and I had done Wharfedale (Grassington) to Wakefield once before in Harry, and I’d said ‘never again!’ because the route was much the same as from Huddersfield. So we headed for Harrogate and Wetherby to get on the motorway. It was a nice scenic start, but slow through Harrogate.

Who’s Harry?

You know – my motorhome where I sleep when I’ve been babysitting in Wakefield.

Oh – im! E talks funny, dunt e?

Well, he’s French made and spent his first year in Germany. Why, anyway?

Well, tha went off in that little black car, wi thi lass an t’babby. So we had a chat, sort off.

What about?

Thee, mainly.

Oh, yes?

Aye, e says I’d best be careful, or tha’ll bash me up.

Did he, indeed. Anyway, yes – Rachel and I did go out to lunch yesterday (Thurs 17th) with Shannon. We went to the garden centre and I bought a little planted trough for my doorstep.

Aye – and tha’d best get it out from t’footwell where tha left it!

I know – I was tired.

Well, happen it needs fettlin’.

Fettlin?

Tekkin care of – looking after.

OK! What about the next drive?

Ee – that were a  bad un! Should’ve ad plenty time to get from Rachel’s to Chris’s, leaving at 4 o’clock.

(We were on taxi service to get N. to ‘Rainbows’)

BUT! Motorway signs said ’30 mins delay’, so we left motorway an followed the A62 – talk about    CRAWLIN’ !- it wor wuss than t’day before. Took till 6 o’clock, nearly! But we got little lass to  er club on time.

We did! “We got her to the church on time!” (“Wiv a little bit o luck!”)

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Hips or Cancer?

Monday 14th March 2016  Saw the orthopaedi … orthopedia …. the hippy man. Yes, both hips are knack …. er – worn out! Which is worse? was the question he kept asking and I couldn’t answer because it varies from day to day. Certainly with more walking in Manchester on Sunday than I had bargained for, I’d have said ‘the right one’. Anyway, he sent me for a further x-ray there and then and confirmed from that, and from manipulation, that the right one (which was treated in France!) was in greater need of replacement. But prostate cancer can move into the bones, apparently, so a bone scan is the next step. But after that there are still issues – hip replacement and radiotherapy do not go well together, even with a ‘decent’ interval between, and brachytherapy doesn’t suit someone on Tamsulosin ….  I’m going to have to decide what to have treated first, indeed, whether to treat the cancer at all ! My current preference goes against the general opinion of those who’ve expressed one!

Tuesday 15th March  ‘New’ bed delivered! Chris was here to help move stuff around and assemble it, but a call from N’s school led to a change of plan and we went together to pick her up and take her home – nothing serious, in the end, I think. Back at the flat, two men brought the bed up the stairs, but it wasn’t their job to put it together. I tried, but it was a bit challenging (to the hips), and anyway I found I needed an allen key which I didn’t have. So later in the day we went down to collect Chris – and a key – again and came back to do the job. Let’s hope it’s comfortable ….

Family Brunch – and I buy a bed!

Friday 11 March 2016 , Philip, my brother, Christine and elder daughter, Carol, were travelling from Ashton Under Lyne to York and suggested they should stop somewhere near here for a late breakfast, or brunch.  I proposed Bolsher Moor Farm Shop & Cafe, close to the motorway. Rachel came over with Shannon and I picked Chris up on the way through Linthwaite –

Eh-up! What dost tha mean – tha picked im up? I picked im up!

That’s all we need! An interrupting, pedantic, Yorkshire car! OK … Franky and I picked Chris up in Linthwaite on the way, so we had a good family gathering:

DSCN3350aDSCN3351 A variety of breakfasts were enjoyed, then the party transferred to the Golgar Lily to enjoy a drink in quieter surroundings. Mind you, with a group of 7, six of whom could be called ‘Thompson by nature’ , ‘quiet’ is a relative concept – but at the ‘Lily’ there was no-one competing!

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[Others may have better, or different, photos – send them and I’ll add or substitute.]

Once those heading for York had moved on, we took Chris home, and then Rachel (and Shannon!) came with me to the BHF shop in Huddersfield to help me choose a bed – I’ve been sleeping on a guest bed on loan from Rachel, but it’s not really long enough, even for me! We also called at the Oxfam shop, where Rachel bought some clothes for Shannon and I bought a vegetable or casserole dish, and a room scenter.

Rachel decided to come back to the flat for tea; Shannon was sound asleep in the car when we got here – so we left her there, keeping an eye on her through the window till she moved!

What about my wash, then, Boss? – You promised me a wash!

No, I didn’t! – It was a ‘maybe’.

I’ll believe in that wash when I get it ….

Hospital and Haircut

Tuesday 8th March 2016: Yesterday was a fine, bright day, blue skies making the most of the snow on the moor …. but I didn’t make very good use of it; just a bit of shopping.

Today has been my first ‘Facebook-free’ day! I don’t know whether the two are really linked, but I like to think that whereas  I might have spent time this morning, wondering whether to react to someting or other, and if so how, and trying not to get angry about something, but just hide it, I actually spent time sorting out some long-overdue paperwork, filled in a couple of forms, arranged to have my pre-payment gas and electricity meters changed to pay monthly, and so on.

Then this afternoon I had the latest consultation with the urologist at the hospital. I have a choice where the cancer is concerned: zap it or leave it. Treatment (I said ‘zap it’, but he went along with that!) would be radio therapy. A friend has recommended brachytherapy, and Mr. Harney was not averse to the suggestion,  but said he thought it was unsuitabale for someone who has been taking tamsulosin for some years as treatment for a twitchy bladder; but he would mention that I had raised it in his letter to the oncologist, who would decide. The ‘leave it’ option would mean leave it alone for several years, but then treatment would be to control, not cure.

So that left the question of the hips – not Mr. Harney’s department – and I’m seeing the ‘Hippy Man’ next week. Mr. H. was sympathetic to the notion that the cancer isn’t actually affecting me, but the hips are, however he recommends cancer treatment first, if I choose to have it at all, as complications could be worse if I had hip replacement first. Of course, I’m assuming hip replacement is ‘on the cards’, which is yet to be confirmed.

Anyway, I left the hospital reasonably cheerfully, having spent very little time there, so passing a barber’s with a parking space outside and only one customer in the chair and none waiting (I could see that from the road, ‘helped’ by slow moving traffic) I stopped and treated myself to a haircut.

This is the chair I bought recently at Oxfam: (it swivels and reclines, and is a great improvement on the camping chair I came with!)

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and this is a selfie with me in it, showing haircut – the least expensive haircut I’ve had for years – so it wasn’t really a treat!:

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Next time out, I might ‘treat’ Franky to a wash –

Eee – that’ll be grand!

What? Franky? You’ve found a voice, then?

Aye.

Tha’s a reet Yorkshire lad, then?

Aye, I am that, Pal.

Don’t call me ‘Pal’.

Why’s that, then?

I’m not a Yorkshireman, and I don’t like it much.

Right-o, Boss.

That’s better. ……..

Different time, different place …

 

It’s been a long time since the last entry to this photo-journal. For obvious reasons, I think. But having ‘escaped’ from Facebook, I thought maybe I would try again. Today, Sunday, 6th March 2016, I came back from a weekend in York to my flat in Meltham, between Huddersfield and Holmfirth, in Yorkshire. The York weekend included a visit to Cousins Chris and Beverley Jaques, to whom thanks for the hospitality, and an Esperanto Group meeting in York itself. Also two nights in Harry – new readers please remain puzzled for a moment or two!

Harry had to be returned to his (temporary?) home on Sean and Rachel’s drive in Sharlston Common, Wakefield, so I was treated to Sunday lunch (“evermore thanks”) before carrying on to Meltham in Franky. (Franky, or Frankie, if you think he’s a ‘she’, is my car!)

But before lunch (I believe as a Yorkshireman, I’m supposed to say ‘dinner’, but I’m not, am I? Someone asked me that yesterday, in Esperanto, – ‘do you feel like a real Yorkshireman now?’ I replied that I thought that took at least 10 years, so in the meantime I remain a Lancashire-born Cumbrian!) where was I? Before lunch, when I arrived at Oakleigh Close, Shannon came to see me in Harry; we did some drawing and played hide-and-seek: