Osteoporosis

Damn - I think I've officially become an old lady now. Apparently my bones are in danger of breaking any moment. I didn't think the DXA scan was really necessary, even though I've broken three bones in the last few years, and now I'm not sure that I really wanted to know the results. Presumably I've had osteoporosis for some time, so I'm not getting out the bubble wrap just yet. It's undoubtedly years of being underweight that's done it. Of course now that I no longer have hormones and therefore hardly any migraines, I'm not underweight any more, but I have to live with bird bones as a consequence.

Ferries and Porpoises

What a fantastic sail we had yesterday! It was a bit of a no-brainer after church to pack up a picnic to have on Fidelio, since the sun was shining, there was a good breeze and the dogs were happy after their morning walk. Heading across to Gourock was the simplest option given the wind direction, although there's always a chance of getting in the way of ferries that way. I have to tell you, we got in the way of the Cally Mac, the Western and even the Waverley and they all changed course for little 28ft Fidelio. Steam gives way to sail and so do diesel engines! On the way home we were joined by a pair of porpoises that followed us, weaving in and out and under the boat and generally causing me to go off course and Rob to let the spinnaker flap. Fortunately not too many other boats around for us to get in the way of. All in all, a splendid afternoon. And the picnic was good too.

The little silver box

My computer seems to have become my best friend and that's scary. It's also not quite true, but the elements are there. I now turn to the little silver box on my table for entertainment throughout the day (especially if it's raining). It's a wonderful procrastination tool against housework and other such dull chores. I read emails and messages and facebook several times a day, enjoy an ongoing game of Scrabble with my brother, watch TV programmes on iPlayer while eating lone meals (when I used to read), buy whatever I want online and waste a lot of time looking for the best deal, look up information on just about anything that flits into my butterfly mind, know what's going on in the lives of all sorts of people, some of whom I've never met and some of whom I haven't seen for years . . . I could probably go on but I'm beginning to bore even myself. You get the picture.

My little silver box is a wonderful thing in so many ways. And yet it has its dark side. If the Internet's not working I get really agitated. Things are going on without me! I might miss something! Oh no, I can't look and see who else is sitting at their computer playing Farmville or whatever! Hmm - getting a bit obsessive here.

And that's the thing. I'm kind of obsessed.

I tend towards being a receiver rather than a giver online. Blog posts are few and far between and Facebook and Twitter updates are sporadic, mainly because I don't believe folk can be remotely interested in what I'm doing most of the time. But wait a minute - I love reading about what they're up to, I get a buzz when someone I've been thinking about communicates. I worry if they haven't blogged/twitted/facebooked for a while unless I know them to be on holiday or somesuch. I panic if someone 'unfriends' me on facebook - what have I done to upset them?

I'm letting the little silver box take over my life.

A few years ago I took a conscious step back from the little silver box (it was a pretty blue box called Bluebell then) because I recognised this obsession in myself. In those days it was Instant Messenger and I would sit of an evening or an early morning 'chatting' to several folk at a time. It began to take over. Some people seemed to live in my computer. Every time I opened it up they were there, wanting to talk. It had to stop.

But now, it seems half the world shares my obsession. If I back off, I'm actually in danger of worrying lots of people who really care about me. It's all gone much too far to back off, and anyway, I love it! If I wasn't writing this blog post, I'd be forced to go and hoover the stairs.

I think the sermon's finished. I do enjoy poking around and trying to come up with something that people might want to listen to. I even quite enjoy delivering it, presumably because even after retirement I retain that annoying teachers' trait that compels me to impart information to anyone who'll listen. It's especially exciting if I've only just found stuff out for myself, so the research is probably the most important and enjoyable part. As a lay person I can't preach as such. I can only read, research and share my ideas, and if anyone wants to argue with me, I'm cool with that so long as they don't get nasty.

But it all takes time. I can't imagine how it must be to have to come up with something every week. I suppose people ordained folk have a good theological training behind them. I can only hope that if it works, God must be in there somewhere.

So we'll see how my take on the Transfiguration goes.

In other news, I made bagels yesterday and they're pretty good. However they don't quite have the chewiness of the authentic ones we used to get in school. Maybe they need to be boiled for longer.

Masterchef

I do like getting something for nothing. On Wednesday's morning doggy excursion with my next door neighbour, we came across two huge redcurrant bushes at the side of the path, groaning with fruit shining ruby red in the sun. It didn't seem to belong to anyone, so the next day we returned with scissors and poly bags and spent a happy half hour picking while the dogs pottered round, helping themselves to the odd low-growing berries. Home we went triumphant with a couple of pounds each and plenty left on the bushes for someone else and the birds. Most satisfying.

Being a fan of redcurrant jelly, I phoned my 90 year old mother-in-law for advice. She offered to make the jelly for me and sounded really excited at the prospect. I could perfectly well have done it myself, but who am I to spoil an old lady's fun? After various telephone updates on the jelly's progress, I picked it up today - three jars of beautiful jelly for the price of a bag of sugar and one very happy MIL.

And I put some of her strawberry jam to good use yesterday when Mr and Mrs Blethers and their small granddaughter visited. We made jam tarts so that she could take them home for her tea (they were too hot to eat straight away), which proved most diverting. Jonny-dog was trying to make friendly overtures to little Cat, and took the opportunity to lie on Mrs B's foot, thus pinning her to the floor, while he had the advantage. He doesn't usually get within a yard of her without fierce admonishment, but both behaved impeccably.

Masterchef Heathbank, huh?

Back again

Okay, it's been more than a year since I updated this blog. I think Facebook probably has a lot to answer for since it appeals to my laziness as a quick and easy option. It's also a great way to stay in touch with family and friends who can't be bothered ploughing their way through the convoluted pathways of my mind.

It's been a year of fantastic highs and some pretty awful lows, none of which I'm going to dwell on because they're in the past. I think a blog should be about the here and now, so this is what's going on in my life at present:

The good stuff
Out of my window I can see a couple of young blackbirds (or they might be thrushes - it's too far away to tell) trying to balance on the berberis, a flock of baby great-tits on the bird feeder, and I can hear, but not see, at least two bullfinches and a tawny owl (ours seems to have forgotten that owls are supposed to hunt at night and hoots all day!). I love the baby bird season!

I'm working on a talk about the Transfiguration for a week on Sunday.

The garden has lovely bits: the greenhouse with ripening tomatoes, the trees and shrubs, and scruffy bits: the veg garden that needs weeding, the driveway where the weeds seem totally resistant to the mimsy modern weedkillers you can buy these days and the hill behind which is my bird sanctuary. Maybe today I'll have a go at some of those weeds, but actually they all disappear in the winter so maybe I won't.

The bad stuff
I'm worried about a dear friend who's in hospital with a really nasty infection following cancer treatment and I'm carrying something in my pocket to remind me to pray for her.

So there we go - that's me. More good than bad, pretty boring, but maybe boring is good.

Home again, home again . . .

I really didn't want to leave. If I hadn't been preaching yesterday, I'd have tried to negotiate another few days at Clashview. There's lovely caravan in the grounds that I wouldn't have minded moving into. As it was though, we had a good journey home at a stately pace as befits people travelling in a monster Mercedes that can actually do 0-60mph in 7.5 secs. Thanks, dear Bill, for lending it to us!

Looking back on the holiday, and how stressed Rob and I were when we arrived, it was just what we needed. It was fun to have the family for a few days and let them cook for us and keep us entertained, but when they departed and peace and quiet reigned, it was therapeutic to have no responsibilities. Hooray for holidays!

Next Stop Canada

A visit to Cape Wrath is all a bit of an adventure. The bus-ride in the ricketiest bus imaginable along a tiny, narrow road with grass growing up the middle is definitely not for the faint-hearted! You really feel as if you're at the ends of the earth. Cape Wrath is the most north-westerly point on Scotland and the next land-mass to the west is Canada. Standing by the huge red fog-horn and looking down at the waves crashing onto the rocks and sea-birds whirling and screeching below was something I'll never forget. Wow! Jess enjoyed herself too and hopped on and off the boat like a real sea-dog.

Yet another picture of my departing backside! This time on the beautiful beach near Durness. It's just one of several wonderful beaches in the area. with stunning white sand and blue water. I had a paddle but there were people swimming and it was quite warm. I wish I'd had my cozzie! Afterwards we visited Cocoa Mountain and Smoo Cave. A great day.

On holiday

After the excitement of yesterday, we set off early to make the long journey to Kinlochbervie in time for dinner. Got the 10.00am ferry and arrived here at 7.40pm with only two short breaks. The last fifty miles were amazing - fabulous scenery on a single-track, uppy-downy, twisty-turny road which should not be attempted by those prone to car-sickness! Anyway, here we are and it's sheer heaven. The picture shows Jess and me exploring the hillside above the house. Ah bliss!

Civil Partnership

Well, my boys are hitched and it went pretty much without a hitch, save for the deluge of rain that ensured we all arrived soaking wet! The ceremony was lovely and the words well-chosen. It was just their best friends and immediate family who attended but we made a good crowd in the small marriage suite. Afterwards there was a party at The Pier where the grooms were only slightly upstaged by baby Dylan who'll make a fine spin bowler when he's older.

Thank you to everyone who sent good wishes and prayers for today. I couldn't have been prouder *huge silly grin*

Triple Whammy

They say bad things happen in threes, but good ones do too if yesterday was anything to go by. First I bought a new little car - a Hyundai i10, which is one of the new high economy, low emissions jobs. However, for a very modest price, this one comes with all kinds of toys not usually associated with basic models, and a five-year warranty to boot. My one is a black ex-demonstrator, six months old, with only 4000 on the clock.

Then the minute I got home, Michael and Charlie arrived all breathless with good news, that they've arranged to get married on July 3, just before we all go away, so that it'll be like a honeymoon! It's to be a very small civil ceremony, close family only and their two best friends as witnesses. We're hoping Charlie's granny will make it. A blessing has yet to be arranged, but will happen some time later in the summer I think and will be an excuse for a bigger party.

And finally, my dear friend Doo phoned up to tell me I'm a great-godmother to a little girl, Charlotte. The boys have chosen to get married on what will be Doo's sixtieth birthday, so it all ties up rather nicely, doesn't it?

Bambi

Look what Jonny found as we came down the hill through the bluebells and bracken this morning. He can only be days old. How fortunate that spaniels are gentle with other animals (except pheasants) and apart from giving a curious sniff, left him be so that I could photograph him.

Puppy dog tales

Alas! Jonny's epic is no more and is but a medium length tail with a plastic syringe cylinder and a blue bandage on the end.

The vet removed about six inches of tail yesterday because the blackened end of it was necrotic tissue that was beyond saving. He also has a bandage on his paw where a split and infected claw has been removed. Poor old boy - he's had a bad week!

He seems none the worse for the loss. In fact he's definitely much happier.

Jess has been flaunting her own perfect little tail. She gets her come-uppance on Monday when she goes to the furdresser for a number two all over.

Ouch!

My swim yesterday made my muscles sore - yowee! I think it must be to do with not warming up or cooling down because I was pushed for time - a hapless exam candidate awaited me at nine o' clock. I usually swim eight lengths slowly to warm up, then sixteen at full throttle (which for me is still slowly but with more oomph) followed by eight slower ones again. That way, I don't feel a thing the next day. Yesterday I just swam twenty lengths going all out because I wanted to have time for my breakfast before school. The feeling of still being slightly damp in my clothes reminded me of the old days when the wee wifie who handed out the towels would make you a mug of Bovril for a penny so you didn't catch a chill going home.

And talking of ouch - poor Jonny has a very sore tail which is probably the result of an unwise wag. It's going to need a trip to the vet's I think.

Healing

I feel as if I've been in a Susan Howatch novel these last few weeks. Difficult times cause strong emotions and strong emotions can wreak havoc if you're not careful. Well, havoc has been wreaked but healing is well on the way, thanks to a lot of arduous and difficult work. It's still not there because there are a couple of final bridges to be crossed but I'm still hopeful.

I just had to write a sermon about the Holy Spirit for Pentecost. It seemed rather apt really.

The 'S' Word

'I'm sorry' is such a simple little phrase - two wee words. Well, two and a half if you're going to be pedantic, and yes, you need all of them - 'sorry' by itself doesn't quite do it. And yet they're incredibly powerful. They have the power to change the direction of mood - turn anger towards reconciliation, hurt towards healing, coldness towards warmth. They can express strong emotion or else be merely polite, but I believe they're vital. I'm not much good at linguistics, but the word 'vital' was chosen carefully to express something I believe strongly. Those two little words have life. They can restore life and make it worth living again.

Walking Theatre the Cowal Way

After what has been a pretty grim couple of weeks for Rob and me, we had a real treat at the weekend with the arrival of Jetta who was coming for the launch of her latest book, The Cowal Way, in Glendaruel. The entertainment was provided by the Walking Theatre Company and took place in the woods on a nearby hill. The play was about Rabbie Burns' time as an exciseman and his relationship with Highland Mary and took place during a guided walk in gorgeous dappled sunlight through a wood carpeted with wood-sorrel and bluebells. Characters jumped out at us periodically throughout the walk, including one chap who appeared to be one of the punters and was deep in conversation with Jetta when he suddenly leapt into action. It was pretty enjoyable after the initial nonsense about health and safety and signing declaimers which held up the beginning interminably and seemed pointless since we'd already signed at the village hall. Actually, the small terrier that accompanied us was the most entertaining of all.

The book-launch itself was sweetly old-fashioned in Glendaruel village hall with tea and cakes and a speech by a local politician. I feel as though my life is at last back on track.

Fidelio's had her bottom anti-fouled and is ready for the water. She goes in on Tuesday - yay!

Lizzies and bluebells

Tomorrow is Liz's funeral. It's fitting that she died in May when the bluebells are out. Mum - also Liz of course - died in May too and the bluebells always remind me of her. Now I'll be remembering both Lizzies in the prettiest month of the year. Both suffered a long illness that they made light of and both were 'different'. They were both rebels and rejected their parents' way of life, living life to the full on their chosen paths. Both suffered feelings of guilt for this rejection. Both lit up the room when they entered and shone like stars. Both held themselves in low esteem. Both died too early.

So come tomorrow when we say goodbye to Liz, I'll be remembering her namesake as well. Rest in peace brave souls!

Decisions, decisions

Today is sunny and the garden calls me - mostly for damage limitation - serious weeding will ensue! The swimming pool also calls me as I've not been for my regular swim for nearly three weeks and I miss it. However, I made the decision to use the energy I'd have used up swimming to clean my dirty house since visitors are imminent, and now it's all shiny and sparkling and it's still only 9.30. Good decision, Di!

Decisions can change everything, can't they? I've begun to lose faith in my decision-making recently after some disastrous ones which have resulted in people being hurt. But now I've made another one, and that's to stop stewing about it (I can stew for Scotland) and get on with doing the best I can under the circumstances.

Now, weeding or dog-walking first?