Category: family

Peace

A few weeks ago I posted about a peace lily plant I’d inherited and somehow kept alive for a few months. I don’t think it’s got long left.

The advice I was given was it was over-watered. Or under-watered. Or needed more light. Or had contracted a plant disease (despite not being close to any others for a couple of years).

So this is what I’m left with.

A sad and utterly bedraggled peace lily plant.
A sad and utterly bedraggled peace lily plant.

After cutting all the dead stems off I teased the dead half of the root structure away and threw it out, worked some compost in and around the roots, gave it a light watering and will leave it a week before its next feed.

Oh, the pot liner had drain holes in the base, and I’d simply not thought to empty the stagnant water out again – which is why I got a big mug full last time. Yes, of course I sniffed it this time!

The worst that’s going to happen is it dies and I buy a fourth. Or a cactus. But after seeing a couple of recent new leaves I’m hopeful I can assist in resurrecting itself.

Or, maybe I’ll do a search for “un-killable house or office plants”!

No, plastic is not an option.

For now.

Haircut

Pumpkin puppy had her first major haircut a few weeks ago, going from this delightfully shaggy dog:

Pumpkin puppy, a cavapoo dog in need of a haircut.
Pumpkin puppy, a cavapoo dog in need of a haircut.

To this somewhat severe poodle-styled cut:

Pumpkin looking surprised after a rather over-zealous haircut. It'd be fair to say none of us are happy with the cut - making her look more like a poodle than a poodle-Cavalier King Charles spaniel hybrid.
Pumpkin looking surprised after a rather over-zealous haircut. It’d be fair to say none of us are happy with the cut – making her look more like a poodle than a poodle-Cavalier King Charles spaniel hybrid.

Though we’ve used the grooming place for 10 years (with Ruby dog), and though Pumpkin’s first trim was fine we probably won’t be going back again. They completely ignored my wife’s instructions to give Pumpkin an overall trim, just clearing her eyes and arse of the longest hair…

To be fair, she can see now. And her hair will grow to look more like her ‘breed’ should.

Eventually.

CD

My wife bought me a CD (Compact Disc) for Valentine’s Day, for my car, to be played when she’s not in it. Though she respects the influence the band had on the music recording industry she’s not a fan of Talking Heads. She’ll listen to other people’s cover versions though, and is especially fond of Simply Red’s ‘Heaven’. Weird.

But I have a shiny new CD.

Talking Heads 'The Best Of Talking Heads' compilation album. Pumpkin puppy wonders if she can chew the case. No Pumpkin, over my dead body.
Talking Heads ‘The Best Of Talking Heads’ compilation album. Pumpkin puppy wonders if she can chew the case. No Pumpkin, over my dead body.

It took way longer than I wanted to fight my way through the plastic wrapper, the pull tab on the strip running around it was completely hidden. Fingernails scrabbling at the wrapper overlap at the top edge of the case used to be the way I got in, and today was no exception.

Extracted it, placed it in the DVD player under the TV, closed the tray and pressed ▶️.

And this is what I see.

A useless CD track listing in a TV, indicating only Track 1, Track 2, etc., though it does show track durations.
A useless CD track listing in a TV, indicating only Track 1, Track 2, etc., though it does show track durations.

What century are we living in?

Well, right now I am living in the nineteen-seventies and eighties – matching the dates of the tracks (from 1977 to 1988). And do you know, it wasn’t a bad time to grow up after all.

Anyway, for me there’s just one track missing from this 18 track album – and it’s ‘Making Flippy Floppy’.

My favourites on this disc though?

All. They made enough to leave a tremendous legacy, but not enough to get tired of. And while I like to think after all these years I’ve heard all of their stuff I know I haven’t.

Ok, ok.

‘This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)’. It’s on right now.

I wanted it to be played on the last App.net social network’s Monday Night Dance Party, but making the request spelled the DJ’s @ name incorrectly.

Still, here I am.

Cock-a-Leekie

A conversation with my wife, the evening before Valentine’s Day 2025:

Me, “How much cock do you think is in there?”

She, “12%?”

Me, “No, it’s only 2%.”

She, disappointed, “…”.

Me, “How about leekie?”

She, “3%?”

Me, “No, it’s 11%!”

She, “…” again.

She’d bought me a 400g tin of Baxters ‘Cock-A-Leekie” soup. Its blurb:

“The finest leeks, succulent chicken, tender rice and freshly grated juicy carrots – that’s what makes our Cock-a-Leekie soup the very best. No wonder this traditional Scottish recipe is loved by so many.”

– Audrey Baxter.

From the Baxters shop site, a photo of a typical tin of Baxters Cock-A-Leekie soup.
From the Baxters shop site, a photo of a typical tin of Baxters Cock-A-Leekie soup.

Stains and smells

Dr Beckmann Stain and Stain & Odour removers get bazbt3’s seal of approval.

Pumpkin puppy (7 months) has no opinion.

Rug Doctor Urine Eliminator stands by, hopeful of action.

Two Dr Beckmann brush headed fabric/upholstery/carpet cleaners. Not for use on pets, however stinky.
Two Dr Beckmann brush headed fabric/upholstery/carpet cleaners. Not for use on pets, however stinky.

Fleas

The area of Mollie cat’s back immediately ahead of her tail has always been sensitive. I recently noticed it had become ‘crusty’ under her fur – as-if she had a bad case of lumpy dandruff, and what I’d term hyper-sensitive (I am not a nurse/doctor).

We got home from the vet earlier. It’s fleas. The vet ran a fine-toothed comb through the fur, rolled the flakes/flecks, whatever they were, in a paper towel and found leftover blood. Flea poo.

So Mollie got a flea and worming treatment, a steroid injection for the sensitivity to touch (she licks and bites when it happens), and I signed her up to the vet’s health plan to reduce ongoing bills.

She’s 15 and I’m, er… a few multiples of that. It’s my very first experience of fleas, aside from the amateur nit nurse in primary school mistaking my dandruff for tiny organisms. My mum resented the implication and marched down to school to confront the errant lady, despite what we now know about the link between nits and good cleanliness. (Anyone, at any time, with clean or dirty hair it matters not, can get head lice and nits, and it’s not difficult to get rid of them).

Anyway, Pumpkin puppy already had her treatment on plan so I just need to get Stella cat’s done, and get her signed up to the plan.

And some flea spray for the house. And wash yet more bedding and…

…maybe get the girls to mention it to their friends, some of whom might be mature enough to not judge…

And only now, as I write this, has my skin started to…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

5 second rule

Originally posted to Reddit on January 26 2024, and prompted in 2025 by this toot by Col: https://mstdn.social/@kibcol1049/113799104744391111.

Last night was Burns Night, when Scots worldwide traditionally celebrate the life of poet Robert Burns by reciting poetry, eating haggis, tatties & neeps. Or something like that.

We couldn’t find a veggie haggis this year so my wife bought a steak for my youngest daughter and me, to go with the veggies. I cooked it medium rare and cut a small slice as it was resting. I’m nurturing a cough started the day before and unfortunately coughed, accidentally swallowing the meat, which stuck in my throat.

Uncomfortable? Hell yes! I started to retch so went to the smallest room, hoping the meat went either down or out. It eventually went down.

Returning to the kitchen hoping to just relax and feel less miserable, Stella, the cat we’ve had since October and adopted in December, jumped off the counter with my steak. It fell on the floor as I shouted and as I reached for it she re-acquired it and ran between my legs, dragging the steak under her.

I finally caught her in the living room, shouted again and grabbed the steak off her. Straight back on the plate, a dollop of tomato ketchup squeezed beside the veg, and I sat down to eat. Finally.

Sure it was cold by that point but I’d won right?

Right?

Hypo (old)

I was chatting yesterday lunchtime about plans for the weekend, plans for 2025, and just casually mentioned the events that unfolded in my ‘Hypo‘ blog post.

But it reminded me about the first time, years ago, I had to ring for the paramedics to attend to my wife.

A novice at marriage and fatherhood I was more anxious back then, understandably so given the newness of the situation. Being confronted by a sweating, shuddering, gibbering, unresponsive loved one is hard. I don’t know how my wife puts up with me!

Anyway, I’d been slowly feeding her bits of chocolate after the glucose gel pack ran out. There was no improvement after a while so I had to get the professionals in.

When they arrived I was looking after daughter1 and the cats and didn’t think about the implications of just sending the paramedics upstairs.

And then I realised I’d sent 2 strangers up, strangers who entered the room just as my wife returned to consciousness. She’s there, stark naked, spreadeagled on the bed, wondering what the hell is going on.

Time passed, the 2 pros didn’t need to do much other than observations and to advise me to get her something decent to eat.

My first request after she was out of bed, please don’t ring your mum or sister or tell anyone at work that I let 2 complete strangers into the bedroom when you were at your most vulnerable.

I was thwarted.

I probably deserved it too.

2025

I’m somewhat hesitant to wish everyone a “Happy New Year!”, leaning instead towards “All my very best wishes for a peaceful and fun 2025.”

Now 2024 wasn’t the best from personal and health perspectives.

Our beloved Ruby dog passed away at the end of June, just 3 weeks before we went on a holiday close to Hadrian’s Wall, Northumberland. We scattered her ashes at Warkworth beach, I believe her favourite place on earth – it’s certainly the place we first let her run free.

Ruby dog, a white and ginger cavachon. RIP 07/2024. ❤️
Ruby dog, a white and ginger cavachon. RIP 07/2024. ❤️

The girls are doing well, the oldest on her final year of 6th form college before university, and the youngest in the first year of GCSE studies in high school. We’re so proud of both.

Our matriarch Mollie cat is 15-ish now and showing some signs of slowing down, whereas Stella cat who joined us last year is flourishing – so much so that maybe we do need to follow the vet’s advice and reduce her food intake.

My wife is getting progressively more tired of the ineptitude and absence of care shown by her work managers, and her health isn’t great – as I mentioned in another post.

Me, I’m still getting over the covid from 2023 and the whooping cough from earlier in 2024. And the blood pressure meds mean I can’t eat grapefruit or the juice. No great loss there then.

All that remains then, all my very best wishes for a peaceful and fun 2025; life’s what you make it, right?

January credit card bill

Ouch, how the heck did that happen‽ Lots of relatively small payments added together, that’s how it happened.

And 2 lots of vets bills for Pumpkin puppy’s squitty tummy definitely contributed.

Pumpkin puppy in the kitchen, looking cute, her head on one side. She's actually looking at the doughnut my wife is holding above my head. Mollie cat is looking on from the background, wondering what the fuss is about. Mollie, our matriarch, does not like doughnuts.
Pumpkin puppy in the kitchen, looking cute, her head on one side. She’s actually looking at the doughnut my wife is holding above my head. Mollie cat is looking on from the background, wondering what the fuss is about. Mollie, our matriarch, does not like doughnuts.

Look, she’s worth every penny of course, but we really do need to be thinking seriously of pet insurance.

The great thing about the size of the bill is it gives me the ability to focus on my New Year’s resolutions for 2025, but more on that another time.