Friday, November 27, 2020
Sunday, November 22, 2020
My sore left knee wasn't too bad today but in order to rest it, I planned a family meal that would be simple to prepare and easy to serve. Spaghetti Bolognese, followed by Pear and Ginger Crumble. This must have been a good year for pears because we have had two separate gifts of bags of delicious pears. The second lot, the ones I used on Tuesday did not look like much but they tasted great. There's a story about how they came to be. Our friend Ron bought the tree in Lidl a few years back. He carried it around in the boot of his car for the best part of a year then decided he ought to dispose of it. The pear tree, a mere stick, was propped up at the back of his flat for an entire winter, its root ball wrapped in hessian. He kept meaning to take it to the council dump. Spring came and his wife informed him that the tree was budding blossom. He decided to give it a chance and planted it out. The first year there was hardly a pear to be seen but since then it has cropped well, so much so, that he's giving them to everyone and it is even getting scrumped by well-dressed Englishwomen in silk scarfs and pashminas.
The other thing that happened on Tuesday was I decided to pop down to the village to buy some Ben and Jerrys to go with the crumble. I haven't been driving but reckoned I could manage it. And then as I was climbing into our van something went in my right knee and afterwards, I could barely walk. It's only starting to ease now. Bert and the girls did the ice cream run and I was glad that dinner was all prepared except for the pasta. Zoe sorted that.
Watched The Crown.
I spent most of the day lying on the sofa, reading and resting. Called Kerry Sister to wish her well on her upcoming major surgery.
Watched The Crown.
Bert collected Martha and Evie from school. I can walk now but would rather not drive.
Watched The Crown.
Kerry Sister's big operation. That's what Matty and her sisters would have called it. From five onwards my phone was never out of sight or hearing. The update came from my niece. It had gone well.
Watched The Crown
My knee was feeling much better. I even got a few non-essential chores completed. But it is boring not being able to go out, even if it is only to the local shop.
Finished Watching The Crown.
Long and tedious day. Clint came round and was tedious about Brexit. Still thinks it is going to be great. Doesn't like Biden. Says he is a Republican. What he means by that is that he fears 46 would support a United Ireland. Personally, I think the new President will have enough to be getting on with in his own country to be troubling himself about us.
Heard that Kerry Sister is taking little walks and hopes to be home in a few days. She has only one episode of The Crown left to watch. As I have none there is only one thing left to do and that is to update Nelly's Garden.
Monday, November 16, 2020
It must be all of two months now since Bert got the new phone and Martha showed us both all the cool things he could do with it, like the panoramic view function. The girls preferred to take crazy disjointed photographs like this one.
Wednesday, November 11, 2020
I have been tending the Garden that is Nelly's for sixteen years now and must be well past the halfway point. If this blog could be kept going another sixteen I'll be in my 84th year. Can't see it. What do old people talk about anyway?
Yesterday I was looking through old posts using the search word 'knee' and found that that I have had intermittent knee pain for at least seven and a half years and that it all began with Rusty. The following from Nelly's Archive.
It was last September when Rusty first knocked me off my feet and he has went and gone and did it again. I was carrying a gigantic bucket of goodies down to their paddock and while I was looking for a sweet, clean place to dump it out, Rusty all impatience, barrelled through my legs and lifted me off my feet. Yes folks, for a split second or so I was sitting atop his broad back and he just kept barrelling on and I knew for certain I was for landing on my arse. Wish I'd followed through on that one for all I'd have got would have been a soft if muddy landing. But I thought it best to try to stay on my feet and that was my downfall. People, when trying to extol the virtues of the smaller pig, say, "They'll only grow to knee height." That is all very well but they forget to mention that the 'small' pig will likely grow to around two foot wide. I know that when Rusty dove between my legs I ended up standing on tippy-toes with my legs well extended and it was when I tried to keep my balance that I twisted my knee.
Oh! The agony. At first I couldn't even put my foot on the ground. As I stood there one-legged, crying with pain and frustration I really had no idea how I was going to make it back to the house. After a few minutes I found I could weight bear but it was no fun and I made my way slowly and uncertainly to the house. Bert was, as usual, totally unsympathetic although he did help me off with my wellies which were very filthy indeed. (May, 2013)
I spent many months limping on that twisted knee but it did get better eventually. Nelly's Archive has this to say on Christmas Eve, 2013.
It's been another busy day. Lots of friends calling round and lots of baking and cooking. I felt a bit like Nigella except her kitchen is nicer than mine and obvs she has access to better drugs. All I had was some paracetamol for my sore knee.
And regarding that sore knee - I was striding through Cully yesterday when it occurred to me that my knee hadn't troubled me for well over a week. Within moments it had started to throb. I wonder if it had been sore the whole time but I'd forgotten about it? The mind is a very curious thing. (Dec, 2013)
I don’t subscribe to conspiracy theories but when both my knees started to hurt just two days after receiving my first ever flu jab, I couldn’t help but wonder if my aching joints were caused by the jab. I’d not been doing anything unusually strenuous and had not hurt myself and now, both knees were equally sore. The aching and discomfort came and went. After a week I started taking ibuprofen during the day and paracetamol to help me sleep at night. I was careful not to overdo it. There were good days and not so good. Then it was not so good and bad. Today, after limping out to feed the chickens and put the bins out I put my left foot on the back doorstep and was unable to go any further. The pain in my leg was horrible. I managed to drag myself into the house. For hours I could not weight bear and of course I phoned my GP and had a telephone consultation. He thinks it is something called a Baker cyst which may have ruptured. I have a cream to pick up tomorrow and I'm already taking the medication he would have prescribed. (Brownie points for self-funding on that.) Appointment on Friday and I'm to rest a lot.
So, to answer my own question, this is what old people talk about. Hurtings and sorenesses. What the doctor said. And crumbling away.
I had this conversation with Matty eleven years ago when, compared to my ancient mammy, I still considered myself relatively young. The title says it all.
Sunday, November 08, 2020
What a week this has been. It was a heartbreaking one for Zoe and family that their little dog Miss Gracie had to be put to sleep. It was a wrench as she'd part of their family for fifteen years. But she got a special place in our garden. It was only fitting when we think of the numerous funerals that Martha and Evie carried out for all sorts of creatures from shrews to unborn chickens. This burial was far more real and painful.
Evie's ninth birthday was on Tuesday and everyone put their sadness for the loss of Gracie on hold so that Evie could enjoy her day, the special birthday that will be her last in single numbers. I made supper and, though I say it myself, it was a big success meaning that everyone enjoyed it and had second helpings.
We did not discuss the election taking place in the USA although Evie had previously said that she wanted America to have a new President. And speaking of presidents I am pleased to say that throughout the Trump years I never (except once, when only Bert heard me) put the President word before the Trump word. And it felt like swearing in church.
Then I spent the rest of the week paying an unhealthy amount of attention to the news coming from across the Atlantic. It was worrying at first. No landslide for President-Elect Biden. Eventually, by Saturday all came good and Biden was called. I realised that I actually know far more about the American political system than I do about Ireland's and there's me hoping to become an Irish citizen with voting rights before I die.
Today is Remembrance Sunday. Is it only me or does this day seem to come round really quickly, even oftener than Christmas? I noted that the PM had made some effort and combed his hair and that Andrew of York was banished from the ceremony. All's as it should be.
Tuesday, November 03, 2020
Another day, another birthday party.
Evie's. What age? solve the anagram in the title, or easier still, count the candles. She has a special birthday wish but we won't know for a little while if it will come true.
It was a real privilege to give you your birthday supper Miss Evie.
Sunday, November 01, 2020
Ten years ago Miss Martha and Miss Gracie attended Bark In The Park in the Ecos Centre. Here they are discussing Bonnie's chances of winning Best Rescue Dog. Bonnie's there in the background with Ben Reed
Ten years isn't that long a time for a human bean. Miss Martha is looking at her last year in primary school. Ben Reed is learning to drive. Bonnie is long gone and Miss Gracie will be leaving us soon. Dog years just don't last long enough.