Famfest

Lola II and Mr M occupying my tent as theirs is Not Very Well

Camping with Lola II and Mr M for five nights certainly sorted out the sleep problem. In fact, one evening I was so tired that I went to lie down at about 8.30 p.m., and despite thinking about getting up again for a brief period I actually woke up at 8.15 next morning.

Our first encampment was near Dartmoor on a very remote campsite run by an elderly couple. The journey was extended by 'holiday traffic' and an accident that totally blocked the M5 motorway. Lola II and Mr M were making their way down separately, and phoned me near Bristol to find out how I was getting along. Using roadside landmarks we determined that we were less than a mile apart. Uncanny.

We arrived in the rain, and while it wasn't pouring when we put up the tents it was generally damp. My tent performed brilliantly at its first outing, unlike Lola II and Mr M's tent which had developed a serious sagging problem. The cause was definitely one of the bendy poles but we could find no solution at this time. It was still usable, but not the tent it should have been.

Camp food varied in quality. The lateness of our arrival and the difficulty with the tent meant that the emergency Pot Noodles were deployed on the first night. Despite the rain when we arrived and on and off throughout the first day, Mr M was very keen to have a fire because he and Lola II had brought supplies for a meal that required a fire: baked Camembert, sweet potatoes, and melted chocolate in baked bananas. I was sceptical about the practicality of drying wet logs using the very limited supply of dry logs, but Mr M was not deterred and successfully overcame the problem by throwing firelighters at it. Literally.

Grimspound, July 2017

Food off-site was generally very good, including one of the best soups I've ever tasted at a little tearoom in Moretonhampstead on Dartmoor. We also visited the Warren House Inn for Sunday lunch, after which we climbed up to Grimspound - a well-preserved late Bronze Age settlement - and the Tor overlooking it. Other non-food activities included 'House of Marbles' which is a tourist attraction containing glass blowing, a pottery museum, many retail opportunities, and displays about games and the manufacture of marbles including a number of marble runs. We watched these strangely addictive 'machines' for quite some time as the marbles (or in one case, snooker balls) follow their different tracks. We also stopped off at an interesting bridge constructed from large slabs of granite balanced on piers across the river.

Clapper Bridge, Postbridge, Devon, July 2017

Monday was a rain-free sunny day, and after packing up the tents we headed off to walk around a reservoir near Okehampton, followed by a brief visit to Okehampton itself - nice town but disappointing cakes from a bakery that looked promising but failed to deliver. Then we joined the Famfest, which was the main reason for the trip to this part of the world.

A branch of the family originating with one of our grandmother's sisters has been convening an annual family gathering for several years now, and last year was the first that we attended. That one was in Hertfordshire and included more than 40 people; this one was a little further afield but there were more than 50 people in attendance. Despite being over 90, our grandmother's niece and her husband had made the trip from Cincinnatti, and they were among the most enthusiastic about attending the various scheduled activities.

We camped here too, although most of those in attendance occupied normal accommodation in the main house. With the assistance of one of the guests, Mr M managed to fix the sagging tent, which pleased Lola II a great deal.

Gin School

On Tuesday we all headed off to the seaside town of Salcombe, where one of the cousins (I use this term very generally to mean absolutely any of those in attendance) has recently established a very successful gin distilling business, including a Gin School where you can distill a bottle to your own recipe. We were treated to gin cocktails in the bar before a short tour of the distillery and school. It is a really classy operation and looks as though it will continue to be as successful as it deserves to be.

We met many, many cousins and I'm pretty sure by the end I knew about 80% of the names, even of the children. There were also some I never spoke to! The majority were there for five days, but Lola II and Mr M and I left after two nights, packing up the tents in between the drizzle and showers. Back home I checked the weather forecast and dragged the tent outside to dry off, thinking I might also prune the forsythia, and deciding to do it after finishing the cup of tea I'd just made. Before the tea was finished the heavens opened and soaked the tent. I hadn't put it up with the poles, just laid it flat on the lawn, so it became much wetter than it was before and I had to put in the poles and erect it properly to dry out.

Famfest campsite, July 2017

What I've been reading

The Seasick Whale
by Ephraim Kishon

translated by Yohanan Goldman

"The rollicking account of an Israeli traveller abroad. In London, Hollywood, Venice, Paris, wherever Mr Kishon goes troubles follow."

Despite being written sometime in the 1960's (the book I have has no publication date) the satirical take on different European and US nationals is still sharp. Brits are impossible to rouse to anger and polite to the point of annoyance; in Hollywood there is nowhere to park and you can achieve nothing without an agent. Very entertaining.

Daniel Deronda
by George Eliot

narrated by Juliet Stevenson

"Crushed by a loveless marriage to the cruel and arrogant Grandcourt, Gwendolen Harleth seeks salvation in the deeply spiritual and altruistic Daniel Deronda. But Deronda, profoundly affected by the discovery of his Jewish ancestry, is ultimately too committed to his own cultural awakening to save Gwendolen from despair."

George Eliot's last and very long book, 36 hours of audio narrated beautifully and nicely edited - the long passages in various languages at the head of chapters were faded out in favour of the English translation. Lots of Jewish colour from the period - Jews in high positions as well as lowly pawnbrokers and thieves - alongside tales of the Christian aristocracy and how marriage was used to create and measure social status. I'm glad I read it, but I won't be reading it again!

Last Seen Wearing
by Colin Dexter

"Valerie Taylor has been missing since she was seventeen, more than two years ago. Inspector Morse is sure she's dead. But if she is, who forged the letter to her parents saying 'I am alright so don't worry'?"

I haven't read a 'Morse' book before, and I was surprised that the quality of writing wasn't as good as I had expected. I thought that the books were the source of the TV series, but now it wouldn't surprise me if the TV came first. It was no better than OK.

Cranford
by Elizabeth Gaskell

narrated by Prunella Scales

"Through a series of vignettes, Elizabeth Gaskell portrays a community governed by old-fashioned habits and dominated by friendships between women."

Listening to this was a very pleasant experience. All the characters had distinct personalities and went through the ups and downs of nineteenth century village life with attitudes of optimism and contentment as well as a little envy and resentment. Just like most of us, but without the conspicuous consumption.

Death to the French
by C. S. Forester

"In 1810, with Wellington's army penned behind the Tigus, Rifleman Dodd becomes separated from his regiment. When he stumbles upon a band of Portuguese guerrillas, he transforms this ramshackle group into an organized fighting force that continually harries the infuriated enemy."

Not a Hornblower novel, this covers the brutal exploits of an English soldier and his single-minded, if not simple-minded approach to the life of a fighting man who has known nothing else. The book title has since been changed to 'Rifleman Dodd' but the original is more in line with the contents of the book. It portrays the English forces as the best, most efficient and well-led force of the time in a fairly jingoistic style, and the Portuguese and French as both sadistic and incompetent.

Out of sorts

Krakow Botanical Gardens, July 2016

I can't sleep - or at least, I'm waking up at all hours thrashing about in bed unable to get comfortable. 2am, 4am, 6am and all hours in between, no pattern to it. In the morning if I realise that I haven't been awake for a couple of hours since going to bed it's a rare treat.

Sometimes I know why - The LTRP is making me a bit tense, and I've had a few difficult patients at work and that always makes me mull over what I could have done differently or how I might approach the situation when I see them next. To try and improve matters I've stopped using phone or tablet screens close to bedtime, I've been going to bed at reasonable times, I've opened the window, but nothing seems to be working. So I'm tired - one morning I thought I might as well go to work early, but when I got there I had to have a nap in the car before going in.

Then last Tuesday on my day off I had toothache and didn't really want to do anything at all except sit on the sofa or go back to bed. The weekend before that was super busy - Lola II and Mr M visited and came to our concert, which is very brave and noble of them. I was much more nervous than usual because of all the exposed baritone saxophone solos, and the other regular bari player wasn't able to play at the concert, but our glorious leader found a stand-in so I wasn't entirely on my own. It went very well in the end.

So today mum commented that there hadn't been anything new on the blog for ages and I realised how long it is since anything of note actually happened, and how much else is occupying me. Before the concert I was doing quite a lot of saxophone practice and a bit of clarinet practice. That DVD series I mentioned before (The Newsroom) really is very good and as well as watching episodes in free evenings I watched two episodes back to back when I was feeling poorly on Tuesday.

The LTRP has now reached a stage where it really isn't fun at all any longer. The decisions to be made are no more difficult than before, but as much as I try to understand and stay on top of everything, the issues pile up and I feel out of control most of the time.

The meeting with the kitchen company highlighted the fact that I still don't quite know which appliances to choose and the tap catalogue they gave me has a terrifying 150 pages of options. Before ordering the kitchen items he wants to measure the space (which isn't built yet) and delivery may not be for three weeks after that. And my preferred acrylic worktop needs to be installed by a specialist who may need three months notice but the work is due to start in just a month, and the builder's on holiday now for two weeks.

The architect has emailed to tell me that my plans have been passed by building control except for a requirement for a smoke detector which I thought I'd already agreed to, and I still haven't gone for alternative quotes for the paving and veranda and stairs. None of this is critical but it is making me rather uncomfortable. No wonder my sleep is a bit disturbed.

On the positive side, I have sold some of my surplus kitchen appliances and I hope to sell a bit more in the next month, and I have emptied about half of the contents of the kitchen which is a very good start. A colleague has offered an electric steamer for when I am without a working kitchen, and I'll have the microwave - the main problems will be laundry and washing up, although I'll probably use mostly plastic cutlery and paper plates. Or eat out, or have ready meals, or sandwiches. Or have big lunches at work and no evening meal. Whatever. It will be worth it. I will choose oven options, and taps. It will be fine.

Bad luck, carelessness and stupidity

Lansdowne Crescent, June 2017

I have grown some lovely new skin over the back of my hand, which is now almost as good as new, just a bit pink to show where the damage was done. Then, like a child who doesn't know any better, I went for a long walk in some boots that didn't fit very well and managed to create more blister than toe on one foot. This is also much better now, but I need to pay more attention to looking after my extremities. And get rid of the boots. And try not to pour hot water over myself.

In other health news I have been a regular visitor to the dentist, because the appliance that used to stop me from grinding my teeth at night no longer works, seemingly because either my teeth or my jaw has exerted its independent right to travel. A new appliance is in order, but the first impression wasn't good enough and then there was some mixup at the lab so I've made three visits to the dentist so far. He's a pleasant man who knows the couple who used to live at Lola Towers before me, and we had a nostalgic conversation about the 70's children's TV programme 'Fingerbobs' while the dental assistant rolled her eyes at us.

The LTRP never quite goes away, and I had a long meeting with the builder to talk about exactly how the kitchen work will be done in what order by whom. It raised a few more questions, but I am fairly confident. No alternative builder has come back to me and the airing cupboard carpenter is not responding to my messages inviting him to quote for the stairs. I asked the builder to extend the work to deal with some damp in a wall, re-lay the paving in the garden and replace the veranda structure, and he has quoted quite reasonably for the damp and given me two incredibly high figures for the other two jobs. So more work for me to do in that direction.

Now I need to turn my attention back to the detail of kitchen fittings and will be seeing my chosen kitchen supplier next week. I did follow through and get an alternative quote, but it was much higher with poor attention to detail, she tended to blame me for not telling her things that were on the plans, and she talked too loudly. This last factor wouldn't have been the deciding one but it was definitely in the mix.

My appliance research has also presented me with interesting decisions to be made - double oven, two single ovens, integrated or separate microwave? It has also spurred me on to divest myself of superfluous white goods - anyone want an under-counter freezer, a dishwasher (which is now working, hooray!) and an integrated fridge? Nobody seems to be interested in the 30-bottle terracotta wine rack, so next I will split it into six 5-bottle units and see if they will attract more interest. There's also a pendant light and a wall light, a roll of wallpaper, all the kitchen cupboard doors and eventually the gas hob, which may need to be given away or donated to a good cause if I can find one that will take them.

Enough of the LTRP. There's also work news. Our newest nurse is in a fairly senior role, and is bringing her influence to bear by trying to introduce new ways of working and ideas that she's used before. I am really trying hard to be open-minded, but most of what she has suggested so far seems to bring little benefit to staff or patients. The latest thing is that she has covered the walls of the building with home-made motivational posters, which I always find irritating. I have had to secretly remove the one that offered the message "Every human being is the author of his own health or disease," supposedly quoted by the Buddha. At least the one about having a mind like a parachute that only works when it's open isn't actually offensive to people who have been diagnosed with a lifelong condition whose cause is unknown.

She has also arranged to have an enormous poster about risk factors in diabetes printed, with a grid containing pictures at the heading of columns and rows, and 'thumbs up' symbols within the squares of the grid. It really is enormous - about four feet high. The lack of actual words is to cater for non-English readers, but I looked at the poster for some time trying to decipher its meaning. Eventually I had to ask her what a couple of the pictures meant - the brain at the top is to represent a stroke, and the sad face on the left is depression - at which point I asked why depression is good for the heart? I don't think she's going to fix it, but then I don't think any patients are really going to look at the poster, and if they did I doubt that it would give them any information that they might go on to use.

We have been told that a rheumatology service is going to move into our building, displacing our gastroenterology doctor and his secretary. I have no idea why either gastroenterology or rheumatology should be located in a Diabetes centre, but there is no arguing with the Management. It's bad enough having a renal clinic on a Wednesday morning - renal patients seem to be much more tetchy than people with diabetes, perhaps because kidney disease makes you feel more ill.

Latest news - someone tried to further knock down the already knockdown price of the freezer, but I stood my ground and he paid up and took it away yesterday. Progress!