Food for life

It's difficult, and it's even more difficult when you get closer to Christmas.  Sugar abounds. It's everywhere.  There's sugar in things where you don't expect it; there's sugar in so much that is part of our culture.

Think about it.  Birthdays - there's birthday cake; at Christmas it's Christmas cake; the same for weddings.  There's working breakfasts with chocolate croissants.  There's elevensies with sugar-saturated biscuits and how about a cup of tea and a slice of cake?  In some cafes it's impossible to order anything which does not contain sugar.  If they don't have a cheese scone, then I go without.

Ah, but cheese. Well, that's one of my problems. I love it. I especially love blue cheese and having denied myself anything with a live culture during chemo, I continue to scrump cheese in amounts that I really shouldn't. In case you were wondering, that's what has taken up residence around my midrift!

However I do still try because I really do believe that without the change to my diet which I made immediately I'd been diagnosed with lung cancer, I wouldn't be here today.  And it follows that the metabolic imbalance,  that my body most certainly suffered in the run up to the diagnosis, could return and that's something I certainly don't want.

I'm reminded today of what I should be doing food-wise by Chris Woollams' email today which has pointed to me his excellent diet article.  If you've stumbled on this blog because of cancer, than do sign up to Chris's emails and take a look at the website CANCERactive. What he says makes so much sense.

My nutritionist says:  if you can't pick it or kill it, don't eat it - and ultimately that's probably the best advice when it comes to what you should be eating for the best possible health.  In this ever-pervading sea of refined sugars and compromised fats, I do try so hard to be good.

Buy with Confidence using the Trading Standards scheme - or not

Friends of mine have recently had a real problem with their curtains. They are not the sort who just pick anyone from an advert. In fact when it comes to trading standards, they demand the highest, so they are always likely to do background checks so that they can buy with confidence.

They bought some very expensive material and after checking with customers the reputation of a curtain maker, who is registered with the "Buy with Confidence" scheme, they handed it over.  The job was quite easy: a couple of curtains floor to ceiling, and three sets of much shorter ones.

The result: a bodged job, with seams not straight, hems undulating, fabric stretched, lining showing, pleats uneven.  Now I don't like making curtains; in fact I hate it.  As many of you know, I'd rather make a silk wedding dress and corded lace bolero. So I'm likely to rush a curtain job and make do here and there.  But even I wouldn't have hung those curtains because they were so obviously wrong.

Duly summoned back to see the problem, the curtain maker agreed there were faults.  She admitted to subbing out the job and not having checked it.  But instead of taking the curtains away and completely remaking them which would have been the only possible way to deal with the problem, the curtain maker did a few adjustments here and there, resulting in unseemly creases. The error was them compounded when the curtains were steamed.  The result of this was to cause shrinkage in one layer of fabric (it has two distinct layers which are intervowen) and not necessarily of the other.  Yes, you've imagined correctly.  The result? Puckering.

My friends were unable to get any satisfaction and now had ruined fabric and a mess hanging in their lounge. Eventually after giving the maker several opportunities for redemption, they resorted to the small claims court where they won hands down on all counts. But have they got the money? No. The curtain maker has now asked for a variation of the payment order and my friends must wait while the liability is discharged in small amounts over several months.

So why am I telling you all this?  Well the curtain maker advertises using the "Buy with Confidence" scheme and logo obtained through Trading Standards at our local Council.  The council representative has been entirely useless in helping my friends or having the curtain maker removed from the scheme, despite the court judgement which is a direct result of their own incompetence and failure to put right a problem. I see that the business is still listed both on the Buy with Confidence website and our own Council's.

And I've just opened the latest edition of a local publication to find the same curtain maker advertising with the "Buy with Confidence" logo.  So, if you're thinking of using a supplier and you see this logo, if I were you I would treat it with great scepticism.  All it appears to mean is that the supplier originally jumped through a few hoops to get their credentials. If they don't subsequently fit the bill there doesn't appear to be any mechanism to remove them from the scheme or if there is, it's not working.

Time to relax

It's been hectic for the past few months as many of you will know.  It's been hectic for the nicest of reasons; our youngest daughter was getting married and she wished to have a traditional wedding: church service, a procession to the reception in a marquee in a neighbour's field,  And so she did. It all went splendidly, nothing went wrong and the sun shone just when it needed to. It was only a couple of weeks ago - not even that in fact - and yet in that short time we've gone from summer to what feels like the depths of winter.

I volunteered to make The Dress which turned out to be slightly more stressful than I'd imagined.  I needn't have worried for on the day she looked wonderful, stunningly beautiful and the dress not only stood up to a whole day and evening's activities, it survived a strenuous dance routine that the couple had practised in advance.

When we went back to the house afterwards it was a complete mess - shoes everywhere, bits of people's clothing strewn all around, a half a bottle of Moet open and full of flies (now I know why she was so late getting to the church) and hair pins, make-up you name it, liberally sprinkled over every surface.  I didn't rush at it and I'm still preparing little parcels of things for various people to take away again.

Sometimes you get a horrible empty feeling after something really good, but that hasn't happened to me at all. I have a wonderful warn feeling when I think of the day and what a great time we all had and how much fun it all was, especially in the evening. All in all, a good wedding. And now, for the first time, I am a mother-in-law, which I'm finding rather nice.

Pre-planning application consultation

I'm heading my post with a really descriptive title because I'm about to have a moan and I would really like this post to reach the media monitors for the Department for Communities and Local Government and Eric Pickles.

I've spent most of today - a bank holiday - reading yet another planning application for yet another large dwelling proposed in open countryside. What's making me really cross is that I'm probably wasting my time.  I'll be wasting my time writing my comments.  I'll be wasting my time turning up to the planning meeting.  Why?

Well the planning officer dealing with it has already said in a really chatty email to the architect addressing him by his forename: "In conclusion then, I feel more up to date information ................ and  and further investigation  .............  In all other respects I consider that the proposal is acceptable."  Yes, approval,  given in this case some six months before the public even gets a look at the proposal. He's suggesting the application provides a bit more information and then he's home and dry.

The principle of a local authority providing and charging for advice has been long established, but in the past planning officers have been somewhat careful not to prejudice a decision. For although they might give advice, it's not their decision.  That must be made by elected members of the local authority at a meeting in a quasi judicial process.

Now it seems with the possibility to charge for the service, planning officers are raking in the cash for their local authorities by spending large amounts of time actually assisting developers.  Working with them on the detail in order to facilitate approval.

Now if you ask the average architect they'll admit it's quite common to distort reality when it comes to information in a planning application.  For instance the one I'm currently looking at claims that the site isn't very visible.  Actually it's completely surrounded by public rights of way: one byway, one road and two footpaths from most of which it is highly visible.  But you'll only know that if you have walked all the way round these rights of way and looked at the site from all directions - both in summer and winter.  Has the planning officer done that? - has he heck!

It's only when local residents get involved, when the application is submitted that the detail in the application gets tested and any bending of the truth will be uncovered.  But of course, by this time the planning officer has already made up his mind that the application is acceptable.

This isn't localism; I cannot imagine why the Conservative party thinks it is; it isn't democratic and it's a sure recipe for an unpleasant corruption which has crept into the planning process.  When you add to that the National Planning Policy Framework, a document so woolly and imprecise that you could drive a double decker bus through it, which favours developers above the indigenous population, we have a recipe for terrible and irreversible damage to this green and pleasant land.

Yawl-right

Have you noticed it?  It occurs mainly at checkouts when the person seeking to take you money says:

"Yawl-right?"


Not, "are you satisifed with your selection madam; would you like to pay?" or "that will be £4.50 please."

No - it's "Yawl-right?"

I have resolved that next time I will answer the question.


"Indeed I am, I'm feeling quite chipper today, thank you."

And let's see where we will go from there.

Wind instruments and their players

The case of Mr Snowden is a conundrum. He is described as a whistleblower and he has undoubtedly blown the whistle on practices which have shocked the naive. I should say that it hasn't shocked me in the least since I've always believed that long-winded program updates have hidden automatic reporting tools.

The whole definition is a problem, I cite just one such definition: "One who reveals wrongdoing within an organization to the public or to those in positions of authority."

It's the wrongdoing that presents the challenge. What is wrongdoing? Who decides? Is it something that's generally accepted as wrong by society in general, or is it a specific wrong which is contrary to the organisation's mission, its reason to be or its code of conduct? And when is it wrong? At what point is it right to move from loyalty to an organisation, where you might report the shortcomings and seek to change the outcomes from within, into blowing the whistle?

I offer no answers only the opportunity for the reader to ponder the matter and come to their own decision.

Dear Doctor

My six monthly blood test came round a couple of weeks ago and I duly attended the GP's surgery where a very nice young phlebotomist, looking at my notes, said: "We haven't done the standard tests for you for quite a long time, so shall I do them too?

It was most a statement of intent rather than a question and as she said it a fleeting thought passed my consciousness. A blood test first thing the morning after a five course meal, with a rather fine wine, wasn't a very good idea. But I didn't object. I merely told her that she could test my cholestrol if she wanted, but as I would never submit to poison by statins, there was no point.

That morning of the blood test I have to admit I hadn't felt awfully well. It was difficult to put my finger on it but I described it to someone at the time as a "food hangover". I could tell that my digestive tract and indeed my entire body was not well pleased with what I had injested the evening before. I should say in mitigation that much of it - the artichokes, the bread, some of the potatoes, the mangetout - were either home grown or home cooked, so organic and entirely wholesome. No, it's wasn't the food itself that was the problem, but rather the quantity of the injestion. I awoke with a fuzzy feeling in my head, a lethargy and a definite resolve not to overdo it again.

Remember, since my-body-is-a-temple diet which I assumed during chemo, I've drunk little alcohol, and I resort to puddings, cakes or biscuits only on special occasions. I try to avoid suger altogether. So the desert course which I'd prepared, consisting predominantly of sugar and cream - and of which I'd sampled a goodly portion - must have been an incredible shock to my pancreas and my poor old liver quite rightly was reeling from unaccustomed processing of alcohol and other excess substances. The results of the blood test were therefore predictable.

I always ring for results because I like to chart the readings on my own records so that I can see if things are as they always are or departing from the norm. I figure that my norm is not necessarily other people's. I scored well for T4 and TSH - very reassuring - and also for haemoglobin which delighted me because I'd wondered if, after chemo, I'd ever get it up to a decent score again. But liver function and glucose? The receptionist said they were going to write me a letter because I was "borderline". "Borderline" is a very interesting word. It conjures up all sorts of thoughts. I like to take borderline to be a warning. "Don't step over this mark", "Mind the gap" - that sort of warning. And of course I'm not surprised that I'm borderline because I felt distinctly right over the border and on enemy territory that morning after the night before.

I duly booked a telephone call with my GP, who tried to ring but I missed his call. He then went on holiday, leaving me with wondering how to get this black mark removed from my records; well not removed, but neutralised. Having to explain the whole thing to another GP seems a bit daft, so instead I have written a nice letter explaining the five course meal, documenting the very good wine and the quality of the food and thereby explaining the over-indulgence. I've asked that - if he thinks my explanation adequately explains the "borderline" - he lets me off on the promise of good behaviour which is extremely likely because I've got to get into my mother-of-the-bride outfit in a mere six weeks.