Monday, 31 October 2011

Gossip while you serve

My little shopping spree today has not gone well. I've just realised that a rather splendid black top purchased in a charity shop has been left behind; I need to go back and get it this afternoon. But that's not the only item I left behind today.

On a search for cork tiles I visited a DIY outlet, one in a well-known chain and for which coincidentally our two daughters work in head office. I found the tiles and made my way to the checkout where the assistant proceeded with her conversation with another assistant standing nearby. She had the good grace to acknowledge that I wanted to pay for the item but there was no way she was going to look at me, smile or interrupt what was obviously an exceptionally important conversation all about who was unhappy about what. I duly paid and then said, not in anger, but with a kindly helpful tone: "You know you really ought to be paying attention to the customer when you're serving them." Both assistants realised their error immediately and, looking shame-faced, one apologised as I turned on my heel and left. The moment of triumph was completely ruined by the fact that I left the tiles on the counter and they had to call me back to pick them up! Dohhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Saturday, 29 October 2011


I never did tell you about last Saturday did I. The day dawned very bright so instead of cleaning the house we went to a nearby town where we sat in the sunshine for two hours or more, beside a market selling all manner of French goodies. Friends came and went, family gathered, and all in all it was a splendid morning. I felt euphoric.

It being lunch time I suggested to the assembled company that we make our way to a nearby hostelry for lunch. Our lunch party of eight people continued into the early afternoon. The evening was also spent in great company with some fantastic music being played.

I was as happy as I could possibly have been all through last Saturday; I was carried along by an unfamiliar wave of euphoria. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not a miserable person. It's just that sometimes I get moments when I'm just as happy as happy can be and the moment on that day lasted right through, right until I went to bed.

It was the Journey practitioner (you will recall I saw her for another session just six days before that Saturday) who pointed out to me that unbridled happiness is a feature of Journey therapy. She rang to follow up on my appointment and was not in the least surprised to hear of my happy day. Apparently sometimes it happens immediately; sometimes it happens days or weeks after. But it often happens.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Dental discussions

My visit to the dentist (the one that I promised to spend an inordinate amount of money with, should I be spared) was more about Reiki, the Journey and (a new one for me) geopathic stress, than teeth. Despite that a large bill for a crown is now looming.

Back to geopathic stress. Could it be that our house is not the most healthy space to be living in? Has it always been thus or could something have changed? Living on a spring line of greensand over clay fits the bill for underground streams and we also have a mast which seems to be growing by the year not far away.

Trawling the web it's difficult to find independent information or a site that isn't peddling a product or a service but for those of you who are also curious this will enlighten you. This is something I now have to investige and maybe I should be taking steps to mitigate the dangers. That could mean purchasing some gadget of undefined functionality or maybe sleeping with cork under the bed (I kid you not!) The latter would be cheaper I must say.

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

At last

I have today finally managed to extricate all the remaining large clothes from wardrobes and black plastic bags and sort them into categories: animal charity shop or Ebay. The Ebay lot went online earlier this evening and some have already sold. I've packaged up three items ready for despatch tomorrow.

The really good news is that my purple outfit ("When I am an old woman I shall wear purple) which I put on Ebay a week or so ago has just sold for about the price it cost me several years ago. I have already purchased a purple dress for about the same amount. Bingo!

And there's been more good news from the deep recesses of my bottom drawer. In it I keep strange items of clothing; things that I might want if someone insists that I dress as a hippy or a witch. I had several long black skirts which I'd made over the years and couldn't bear to part with. On Saturday I was able to wear the smallest of them again; now that's something I never ever thought possible.

Saturday, 22 October 2011


"Steam what?" I can hear you exclaim. Well I was similarly puzzled when I first came across the word earlier this week. In my trawls around ebay looking for purple tops and jackets (I've just put two of my purple very-much-loved garments up for sale as they are too big) I came across a rather lovely black crushed velvet jacket with purple frills and a bustle. Steampunk was part of the description which led me to look up the word.

Steampunk is a style based on a time where steam power is still widely used, typically Victorian Britain - but with elements of science fiction or fantasy. I think that steampunk probably sums up the way I would like to dress all the time if I dared. Floor-length skirts, tailored jackets with a peplum - that sort of thing - or tight leggings, high boots and a frock coat.

I can't quite believe I've missed this word steampunk for so long - it's been around since the late 1980s apparently. Well, you live and learn.

Thursday, 20 October 2011

The journey continues

On Monday I re-visited the Journey practitioner and had another session with her. It was really interesting going through the process again as this time I knew the ropes. We concentrated on my thyroid this time and I imagined myself inside it. I envisaged it white with a texture like tapioca - goodness knows why.

My brain has continued to work on the issues that were uncovered, after the event. Every now and then I find myself thinking about them - not in any distressed way, but calmly and rationally, which is what it's all about.

Do I really believe that I can heal myself just with the power of thought? I'm still a sceptic but after the escape I've had from cancer, I'd be a fool if I didn't think that maybe, just maybe there's something in it. Google Journey therapy if you want to know more.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Something else to make your mind boggle

Someone's just posted on Facebook a link to this incredible piece of animation and I just have to share it with you. I quite like the music too.

Monday, 17 October 2011

You can't necessarily believe all of it but ...

Someone I know has just posted this link on Facebook. It's worth a read.

So much of what I've gone through in the past year ties in with this. For instance, it makes sense of Journey Therapy and the concept that we can store bad thoughts, resentments, grief and negativity in specific cells. It also makes sense of prayer or positive thoughts having an effect and more than anything it gives credence to the power of positivity when life is threatened.

Friday, 14 October 2011

Season of mists (I wonder if I used that title last year too?)

It was the first day of condensation on the inside of the window of my office - or condescension as I often like to call it. It's similarly unpleasant and unwelcome. This means that autumn is really here and soon I shall be double glazing one or two windows with cling film again no doubt.*

We've had the harvest festival and now after the auction at the start of the week we're eating our way through abundant apples, bags of beetroot and copious cabbages.

I've been terribly busy the last few days and have lists of uncompleted tasks spread around the house. When I went out to work there was at least some distinction between personal jobs and work jobs. Now I find I'm in a bit of a muddle; I must learn to distinguish.

My earnings have been absolutely miniscule and my pile of expense receipts grows larger every day so I'm obviously doing something right. What's more I heard from the accountant that Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs Office will be repaying me a sizeable sum any day now. What joy eh!

But back to the season. I am poised to place all my recently acquired summer garments in a plastic bag for storage until next year. But given the temperature today and the fact that the cat and I almost got sunburnt when we took our tea break, I'm not so sure that's a good idea. The other thing I can't decide upon yet is whether or not to cut my toe nails right down to their winter length, so that they don't chafe in Wellingtons. Or will I need to display them again in sandals? These quandries are what concern me these days. That's the blessing of semi-retirement.

*Yes, clingfilm does the job. It's best if you can get a more or less airtight seal but I don't like to risk taking the paint off the windows, so I use little bits of Selotape (you can't see them) and it just provides another layer of air for insulation. No, seriously, it really works a treat.

Monday, 10 October 2011

Glowing in the dark?

I've just been looking through my blog from the beginning back in November last year (which is actually listed under January, because that's when I transferred the content to Blogger) to try and calculate just how many X-rays I've had.

What I particularly noticed was what I wrote back at the start when I was keeping a private diary and the chest consultant told me the worst: "Adenocarcinoma of the lung - that is the verdict - but possibly also of the thyroid. It could have started in the thyroid and moved to the lung - or just be in the lung and not in the thyroid at all." Then when I saw the oncologist: "He explained that he thought the lung was primary – if it’s not then it’s curtains much sooner because the only thing they can do is take out the thyroid and hope the secondaries in the lung shrink – well I think that’s what he meant. So he’s going to treat the lung as primary."

You'd assume from that sort of diagnosis that as the thyroid was part of their consideration it would be taken into account all through the process. No, because the NHS specialists appear to work in unconnected silos, they sorted out the lung and then I've had to go right back down the chain to the GP and start all over again. This means a 60 day wait to see the ENT guy. I'm not particularly bothered because I take the view that even if I did have cancer in my thyroid, the chemo - if it hasn't completely knocked it on the head already - will have rendered the cancer activity minimal and sufficient that a wait will do absolutely no harm.

But that's not the point. We're back to the whole topic of holistic treatment and what's wrong with the NHS. This aspect certainly is.

Hence my search for radiation exposure details; I'm just wondering if anyone keeps tabs on patients' X-rays because I've had them in three different NHS locations so far. By my calculations that adds up to at least 5 (and maybe 7 but I can't remember exactly) ordinary chest X-rays, 5 CT scans and 2 PET scans within the past year. I'm just about to start consultation with another specialist working in another silo. That could well mean more X-rays. Should I be concerned? I'm not sure.

Thursday, 6 October 2011

Never forgotten

"We lay you down" we all responded as our little grandson was lowered into the earth. The moment I had so much dreaded was indeed heartbreaking but somehow sharing that heartbreak with so many lovely people went just a little way towards its mitigation.

My son-in-not-yet-but-one-day-soon-I-expect-law had written a charming poem about his son; about his aspirations for the future, about the loss of losing him and about the sadness and the disappointment. It was beautiful, poignant and a wonderful tribute and delivered without falter by the author. How he managed that I don't know, but he did.

We had organised a willow coffin made from the finest Somerset willow and finely crafted by a local basket maker. Upon it rested a tiny posy of white and blue flowers and the sun shone upon us in our village graveyard as we lay the little lad down.

We'll never forget.