Thursday 31st August - every day, in every way...

I'm feeling better and better...

At the time I would have blogged yesterday I had just about nothing to say, except that Ang's August Cross-Stitch-Collaboration (or were we calling it Cross-Country-Stitching-Collaboration - I forget) arrived late afternoon, and as usual it is awe-inspiring. I shall photograph it and share it's glory this evening, when I can get the stitching, my phone camera and the laptop all in the same place at the same time.

Other exciting things happened just before we went to bed...

(don't hold your breath - it takes very little to categorize an event as 'exciting' these days)

To begin with, this was the first evening I felt up to going 'slugging' since Friday. I noticed a day ago that those marauding molluscs had been at my three surviving pak choi, chomping on the leaves. We went out and prowled around the pots, and, Eureka! A massive snail just getting started on the pak choi. He was first into the pot (NOT a cooking pot for Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's slug and snail stew, I should add). In a few minutes we  had collected a dozen or more of assorted species and sizes and dealt with them.

Secondly, I actually remembered bout the supermoon, and opened the front door on the way to the stairs, and there it was, huge and pale and creamy-yellowy-white watching over us all in what I took to be a benign fashion.

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Pak choi check this morning; there they are, the little darlings, bedded down in slug-deterrent wool and surrounded by coffee grounds. The snail in question was stretching out from the edge of the tub to reach the overhanging leave - I shall take steps to thwart that mode of attack later today!

All the other tubs contain nothing except forget-me-nots and weeds, as the slugs and snails have already munched all the little cauliflower and spring onion seedlings for their suppers. I have swiss chad and kohl rabi all ready to plant out, but am strangely reluctant to bear any more mollusc-related disappointments...

This morning I am considerably improved, as long as I don't test the boundaries of the improvement too far.

The proof is in the killer sudoku test - I completed the 'expert' level without needing any of the 3 lives.

 I have spent most of the morning NOT using oxygen, until just now when I completed the arduous task of choosing 2 long-sleeved shirts, checked, 2 short-sleeved shirts, patterned, and two pairs of jeans for my father, having had an opportunity to look a what he was wearing to the hospital last week. I'll tackle shoes and slippers and a decent jacket for him next... thank heavens for mail order.

Tuesday 29th August - two days of August left

Just as well there still are Two Days Left... Ang has posted her August ctoss stitching to me already, having only started stitching a few days ago! I did an hour this afternoon, but ran out of brain before I finished. Tomorrow,  maybe, I'll have it ready to post?

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It's been another day of taking things very quietly, but patience has been rewarded by a steady improvement! 

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I am watching 'Bake-off, the professionals'. Every week I'm astonished by the number of flavours and elements in each tiny morsel, and the fiddly twiddly decorations. I tend to stick to making an 'all-in-one' mix it all up in the bowl sponge cake, with very little decoration or topping, if any. The skill of the bakers is phenomenal. 

I wonder what happened to the uneaten food; do the production team all come equipped with boxes, and fall upon the cakes to scoop them up and take them home as soon as filming stops?. In a similar vein, the mother of one of my piano pupils used to turn up with trays of cooked ready meals or parcels of cooked chickens. The company she worked for tested cooking instructions for supermarket foods. They had to cook dozens of packets in all the different types of oven, bracketing the temperatures and timings to ensure that the instructions were correct. In the run-up to Christmas there were endless roast turkeys...

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Some nattily attired young man knocked on the door this afternoon. 'I represent blahblahblah broadband.' (That obviously wasn't the name of the company but I had stopped listening as soon as I say the lanyard and the clipboard). I'm afraid I interrupted before he could really get into his stride and told him 'we quite enough broadband and did not want to buy any more so I'll let you get on your way'. 

I must have looked and sounded like some deluded old geriatric who thought he was selling something like household brushes or vacuum cleaners. He smiled sweetly, hesitated, but I was already gently closing the door. Toodle-oo, I thought, and toddled back to the settee.

Monday 28th August - slow, dull day...

 So let's start with the lid of the apple juice juice bottle I bought at the hospital on Friday;

I thought it was an unusual design with an appropriate message for a hospital snack bar!

It was delicious, and I don't know if you can make out the words 'a jubilant juice' on the label. I was very amused by the whole package. We took the glass bottles home to recycle. 

So, dull, dull day? I seem to have caught a summer cold, which has zapped my oxygen levels. So it's start on the coamoxiclav, tether myself to the oxygen concentrator and 'possess myself in patience ' until I get back to normal. Today's been the third day of inactivity and already I am feeling better.

My test is 'can I solve the expert and evil levels of sudoku?' Today the answer is 'yes' so I'm hoping to get back to the cross stitch collaboration tomorrow.  It is nearly finished but I didn't dare tackle it until my brain was firing on more cylinders.

Sunday 27th August - singing your prayers

 I always remember things better if they are set to a tune.

Recently I bought a copy of Angela Ashwin's 'Book of a 1000 Prayers' on Kindle. I'm reading through the Morning Prayers in sequence every morning and taking a phrase to remember through the day.

It's a bit late in the say now to share a morning payer, so here's one from the evening section. The tune is callIed Tallis' Canon.

Glory to thee, my God, this night 

For all the blessings of the light;

 Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, 

Beneath thine own almighty wings. 

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, 

The ill that I this day have done, 

That with the world, myself, and thee, 

I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 

Thomas Ken (1637 – 1711)

Saturday 26th August - in praise of granny squares

 They are one of the most portable handicrafts around; a ball of yarn and a crochet hook in a little bag and you are good to go. 

My mother made hundreds of the traditional multicoloured squares, each bordered in white, on long haul flights when she was living in Indonesia and later in Singapore. Later she handed over the whole bag to my godmother (her very good friend and a superb needlewoman) to sew up.

 Almost perfect for travelling.

Almost? I made the blanket above a few years ago using adriafil knitcol dk wool on our long car journeys to my godmother every week, sometimes twice a week, as we did our best to support her in her final months. Instead of doing the traditional thing of choosing different colours for each round, I just let the self-patterning yarn do its thing, and kept going until the ball was finished. The lovely colours fascinated her, and she looked forward to seeing how it was progressing and changing each visit.

And even less to carry around!

I've just finished the Tunisian crochet square. It was a little small, so I went round and round a few more times in what might be double or treble crochet, or both, or neither (I'm a bit hazy and need to refresh my memory. until I finished the yarn.

I'm not too bothered either way, as it is only destined to be another dishcloth. I'm just happy it's another 'finished object' and another bit of yarn gone from from my stash.

Friday 25th August - slugs in love, joy of hospital gardens

 We took my father to the hospital for a day of various out patient treatments.

Before we set off I discovered this unlovely sight. I've left it as as amall picture because it is pretty ugh..

It is two ENORMOUS slugs twined around a great blob of goo.

If I were a naturalist I might be fascinated, but I am trying to grow vegetables. So I fetched the slugging tongs and dumped them in the garden refuse bin with the rest of their mates. I don't think they even noticed. 

Then we got into the lovely lovely new car, collected my father and set off on an unknown adventure, knowing very little more than we needed to find somewhere in the 'orange wing' for a series of checks and treatments arranged at very short notice by the GP. The day ward turned out to be right next to a charming courtyard garden where we could wait in between tests, treatments etc. Being able to sit outside in lovely sunshine made all the difference.

We took turns staying with my father throughout the day. When it was my turn the courtyard had become quite hot so I moved to the dappled shade of the little summerhouse and admired the shadows on the decking made by the trellis.

There are a number of gardens in between the various wings of the hospital, maintained by volunteers. They are so appreciated by staff and patients all through the day.

We got home at about 6 after a very, very long day. All's well that ends well.