Who would have thought it...

This is my dog Archie trying to escape having his harness put on prior to going for a walk. We go through this fiasco every time we take him out. I mean, he wants to go out but makes us catch him first. I have no idea why.

Whatever made us get a dog? I’d never really thought of myself as a ‘dog person’ if you know what I mean. Not too fond of dog-slobber on my clothes, dog poo in the garden and hair all over the carpets. I was fond of the dog we’d had when the children were young. William was such a good natured, obedient, friendly character with a weakness for rooting in rubbish bins and getting on the sofa when he thought nobody would catch him. He spent his last few months living with my son Tom, who needed a dog and loved him to bits. I was sad when he died, especially when I came home from work and found Tom burying him in my garden. I felt privileged to have him lying beneath my lawn, but I wasn’t quite as heartbroken as I suspect I would be were our little Archie to pass on.

So, why did I sign up for all that slobber, poo and hair again? Not sure I can explain really. But,

a)     he doesn’t slobber

b)     he rarely poos in the garden

c)     he doesn’t shed his hair

So, with my main objections to dogs taken care of, there are almost no reasons NOT to have one. Call it mid-life madness. Or empty nest syndrome.... Whatever.

Besides, I needed something to make me get more exercise – no excuses!

Every morning I see a gentleman of military aspect marching his dog down to the beach. A well behaved, obedient dog with an impressive physique and not a spare ounce of flesh on him. I can only imagine the training that guy put his dog through and the regimented life he must lead. He seems happy enough though, so maybe it suits him. Dogs are supposed to be like their owners (or is it the other way round?) That’s probably why I have a small, scruffy, stubborn little dog. But SO adorable!

The strong bonds between humans and their dogs and/or cats can’t be denied. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea perhaps, but those of us who do cherish a furry friend get a lot of happiness from them. And when they pass away, as they do far too soon, we mourn as for a lost family member. It’s common to have to have time off work when we lose a pet. Which reminds me of a staff memo which was sent round to my colleagues a few years ago. It included the line 

‘...and thanks go to Carol whose cat died and carried on working anyway’. 

After falling off my chair laughing I sobered up and felt mean because I could imagine what poor Carol was suffering.

Since the day Archie arrived, a cute bundle of puppy sweetness, he has brought something special into our lives. His face is so comical it makes you want to laugh just to look at him. 

There are times when I marvel at his intelligence, and others when I shake my head at his idiocy. He has been part of my life for two and a half years now, and I have no regrets at all.

Butter wouldn't melt...

  MOVING ON

                                        

Apparently, every year in the UK one in nine people move house. I don’t know if that’s one in nine households on the move or one in nine individuals. Either way, there’s a lot more of it going on than I realised.

I definitely have mixed feelings about the house moving experience. On one hand it’s exciting and fun looking for a new home. On the other hand it is stressful and inconvenient, particularly having strangers poking around your home.

 Ok, so I don’t mind poking around theirs, but that’s different…really it is. I imagine that other people always live in a state of readiness for the critical scrutiny of strangers at a moment’s notice. But I go through agonies of inadequacy before I leave my private space, leaving it wide open to the [probable] criticism of viewers. In my more rational moments I know that nobody really lives in a show home, but that doesn’t stop me feeling that they do. But anyway, why should I care for the opinion of strangers?

Because I want to sell my house, that’s why.

The course of true homebuying never did run smooth. When our whole recent sale and purchase collapsed like a house of cards, I knew it had been too good to be true. Things had been far too simple. So in a way we weren’t surprised or even particularly fazed. It just seemed like a nuisance to have to go through all the nosey stranger stuff again.

 But, hey! A week on and we’re sold again. Also we have found a cosy bungalow which I am trying very hard not to get emotionally involved with. Nothing is definite before the signatures are dry on the contracts, and not always then.

Meanwhile I must get on with sorting out 14 years’ worth of clutter and getting rid of excess furniture and stuff. I mean,  do I really need three sets of single bedding when we only have double beds? And fingers crossed one of those doubles will fit into our new second bedroom…

Its no wonder that moving house is listed on the stress scale*, although it only scores 20/100 where death of a spouse scores 100 and Christmas scores 12. For some reason its not so stressful as ‘revision of personal habits’, whatever THAT means. I beg to differ on that one.

Anyway, must go and get on with list writing, decluttering and nail biting…

*Holmes and Rahe 1967

BEST FOOT FORWARD!

I’d like to talk about exercise, because I’d much rather talk about it than do it. I’d also like to talk about forming good exercise habits, but all I can tell you about that is what you probably know already.

1. Bad habits form themselves quite easily with no help from me.

2. Good habits, however, take time, effort and repetition to establish. That’s the hard bit.

Sadly though, the writing is on the wall…

I have a choice. If I just keep on doing the same things and eating the same things that I have always done in the past, I will be in trouble not far down the line. If I make certain changes, then I stand a good chance of staying mobile.

Already action is called for, so I’ve made a start. The first good habit I’ve managed to establish is a walk first thing every day. Actually I can’t claim iron will power, as I do it because I have a dog. He HAS to go for walks, whether I feel like it or not. And because I’ve been doing it for over two years, it’s become a habit, and one that I enjoy now. If for some reason I can’t do that early morning walk I really miss it.

But walking isn’t enough apparently.

Someone had a bright idea. It was the physiotherapist when we were discussing my back problems and fibromyalgia. Pilates, he said, would be the very thing. As he had ruled out running or jumping in any way, and I already walk every day, apparently the best thing to do is Pilates.

‘Me! Pilates! You must be joking’, I said. ‘But I’ve been doing my exercises every day.’

Well, most days…

Well, for the last three days…

But you can’t fool a physio. I’m sure they’re trained to look right through your soul and winkle out every last little excuse and half-truth. And they have a heart of stone when it comes to excuses. 

‘Can’t I do tai chi? That’s more me.’

‘No, you must go to the sports centre and book up some classes’, says he. I can tell from the flinty look in his eye that he knows I would rather eat coal than walk into a sports centre or go into an exercise class. The thought of a room full of bendy super women with straight backs and washboard stomachs was scary. I imagined they would all be like Barbie dolls and me a Cabbage Patch interloper.

As it turned out, I was right. But they were very nice to me, I have to say. This bunch of whippet-like females (and one brave guy) were a really good advert for Pilates. And they all seemed to know each other of course.

The first thing I did was to incorrectly identify the instructor and try to tell her about myself. Turned out she hadn’t arrived yet, although the efficient looking lady I spoke to was very helpful and told me where the mats were. Shortly afterwards the instructor burst through the doors, all energy and healthiness.

I managed to get her to stand still long enough to explain why I was there and she said just to do what I could manage. This wasn’t really a beginners class but that was ok.

An hour later I staggered out of the class feeling battered but virtuous. I had stuck it out! The instructor told me I hadn’t done too badly but I’d better stick to my physio exercises for a bit.

I rang my youngest daughter who is at uni training to be a physiotherapist. She was surprised but impressed that I’d actually done it (how well she knows me!).

‘How was it?’ She asked

‘It nearly killed me’ I answered

‘Good’ she said.

Something tells me that girl will make an excellent physio.

I haven’t given up though. I wouldn’t dare! I have an appointment with the flinty-eyed physio on Monday. I will be able to look into his laser eyes and honestly tell him I went to that class AND I do my exercises every day. 

Maybe I should try yoga...

Changing my diet one piece of toast and marmalade at a time…

I had a patient yesterday who desperately wanted to lose weight. As I gave her dietary and lifestyle advice along with the medicine that I had prescribed for her, I had to take stock of my own food intake and daily routine.

Would I be able to follow the advice I had just given her?

It’s so easy to tell other people what they should be doing [especially if it’s your job]. But as I said last week, I am at least 2 stones over weight and what am I doing about it?

I will tell you…

1.       I changed my breakfast routine. This has been hard but I am sticking to it. I don’t have toast and marmalade any more. I love toast and marmalade. Instead I now fry chopped onions, sliced courgettes and mushrooms in coconut oil or olive oil with sea salt and cracked black pepper, then shove in an egg. Sometimes I slice up kale or chard from the garden and add that.

OK, so I know what you are thinking. That sounds gross, is what you are thinking, and if you are slim you have the luxury of choice. But at some point, those of us who are overweight have to change what we eat and what we do or we will stay overweight. And one of the things I chose to change was the amount of bread that I used to eat – especially bread made with modern wheat [it contains amylopectin A, which raises blood sugar very high]. I am going to experiment with sourdough made with spelt flour [which doesn’t contain the amylopectin A] and introduce a slice of that every now and then. One of my sons-in-law makes excellent sourdough so it can’t be that hard to do at home…

And, by the way, don’t worry about the odd bit of coconut oil. Fat isn’t the problem with weight gain, but I am not going to argue about it now with the low-fat diet zealots – I just can’t be bothered...

2.       I have [mostly] replaced potatoes with pumpkin, squash or swede. This again is hard, but ditto to what I said above. A swede cooked well with plenty of black pepper, sea salt and some butter is OK. I allow myself roast potatoes when I visit other people if they have made them as I am not going to ruin the effort other people have gone to just because I want to lose weight. I just make sure I am more careful the next day. And if someone buys me chocolate, I don’t throw my hands up in horror and refuse it. I graciously accept and have some, then share the rest out, instead of pigging out on it all by myself as I would probably prefer to do.

3.       I walk more. I aim to walk every day. I try to walk before I eat so I use up fat stores and not just the calories I have just taken in. I have a brisk 20-30 minute walk around the docks, then back home for breakfast [or lunch]. If the weather is foul I will exercise indoors instead of walking. This takes the shape of short bursts of interval training. 30 seconds of running up and down the stairs, 60 seconds rest, then 30 seconds more exercise – I do that for 6 cycles at that’s it – exercise done for the day.

4.       I avoid red meat usually, and go for chicken or fish. I also use a lot more pulses and legumes. In fact, I soak black-eye beans or aduki beans, then cook them up and store them [rinsed] in the fridge to keep hunger attacks at bay. You know - the hunger pangs when you come in from town ravenous and just want a piece of toast and marmalade with a cup of tea. Instead [if I can hold my nerve] I put the kettle on and heat up some coconut oil, shove in some mushrooms and the cooked pulses I have in the fridge. I season them well, as they can be bland, but they stop me being hungry…

5.       Lunch is usually warmed up dinner left over from the night before, or I sometimes have fruit and organic full fat yogurt [but I avoid bananas], or I open a tin of mackerel or spread an avocado on Finn crisp crackers. I do not advise cream crackers and cheese from the point of view of; when do you stop? I could eat a whole packet…

6.       I have managed to train myself to not eat biscuits when I have a cup of tea. This has been one of the hardest habits to break, and is easier when the children aren’t at home. My kids buy stuff like ginger nuts, which is just plain cruel.

7.       Supper used to be a couple of slices of toast and marmalade. Now it isn’t. I try not to eat at all after dinner. And sometimes I succeed. If I am really hungry I try to manage on a handful of almonds or walnuts.

So – I will spare you a ‘before’ photo. But I may take an ‘after’ photo in 6 months’ time. But, yes, it’s going well. Thanks for asking….

WHAT TO EAT?

I have just bought and eaten a whole Twirl when taking my granddaughter to school. I had to bribe her, you see, and once in the shop by the chocolate counter I sort of found myself with the Twirl in my hand [I love Twirls] and was through the checkout and in the car park before you could say Cadbury’s.

But guys! I have a clear idea of what I should be eating, and why. I understand the dangers of consistently eating processed, refined foods. I am aware of how much better/thinner/lively I would be if I ate more fresh, raw vegetables. What I am trying to say is that the Twirl is not an isolated incident.

Old habits die hard, and I was brought up on the same diet that most people had in the 60’s and 70’s. It included a lot of toast, beefburgers, sausages and Vesta Curries. [I’m not complaining Mum, I enjoyed it at the time.] Quinoa hadn’t been invented and seeds were things you sowed in the allotment during the spring, not things that the nutritionally aware sprinkled on their porridge.

But here’s the thing; nearly all of my family have diabetes now AND THE WRITING IS ON THE WALL for me. I am a good 2 stones overweight and although I am losing a steady 1lb a week, which is healthy, I sneak a Twirl and a packet of ginger nuts for a reward and I put it back on again.

I was inspired recently by a woman in Norway. She paid a GP a lot of money for a diet plan that was exactly the same as the one in my head that I think I am on. Except she was sticking to it. I think she was sticking to it because she paid so much money for it and the one in my head costs me nothing.

So, I am making an announcement. The next time it is my turn and not Moo’s to post on here is 29^th – exactly a week away. It is one day before I go to Portugal on holiday [which is another thing but hey] – and I will honest-to-goodness post here if I managed to lose any weight by getting the meal plan out of my head and onto my plate and by pretending that I have paid shed loads of money for it.

Do you think I can do it?

LETS GET ON WITH IT...

Well, summer is over and autumn is just about upon us again.

This is the grown-up version of ‘What I Did in the Holidays’, an essay I always dreaded at school because we used to do such weird things in our family, e.g. as mentioned in a previous blog, Grave-spotting and Uncle Hunting. We never went away on holiday, except rarely and only to visit family. There were a few day trips to the coast, but these were very rare indeed, as our parents weren’t too keen on the chaos at the beach. Or the journey with squabbling kids in the back, though I seem to remember they were as bad as us for bickering, maybe worse. We could hardly get a mile down the road before we were all ready to give up the trip and go home.

It may seem strange but we enjoyed our summer holidays immensely despite the lack of trips abroad or days out. People didn’t tend to do so much of that sort of thing back then. We were left much more to our own devices, and this suited us fine.
It wasn’t easy, when tackling the inevitable What I Did  essay on returning to school, to make our holidays sound interesting, or entirely believable. At least, not to normal people like teachers and other kids. 

But at least when you are a child, you get some time off. Once you are an adult and have your own family, ‘holidays’ are never the same again. They are just everyday life on steroids. When the kids have all (just about) left home you’d think things would be a lot quieter. And so they are I guess, but YOU are also a lot older. So it still feels like chaos. 
I guess this is why pensioners spend their time cruising round the world and the rest of us spend our time dreaming of enough pension to do the same one day.

So, what did I do all summer?

Well, I’ve had some lovely moments... Visits from grandchildren, evenings eating ice creams on the beach and watching the sun go down, spending some time with my parents, starting an online photography course… The best thing all summer was the birth of another granddaughter. 

Oh, and we sold the house and are about to buy another. Anyone who has been through house sale and purchase will understand what’s involved in THAT.

While Saggy has been gadding about Norway and sorting out her Herbal School stuff back home, I’ve been working hard at my photography these last few months. To be honest, you can’t call it work. I really love it and I’m out most days with my camera and the dog. It’s not so easy getting my head round the technical stuff though. 

How I will miss those beautiful swans at the bottom of my garden when we move!

So it’s been very busy this summer.

I seem to have spent all my adult life waiting for a time when Things Get Back to Normal, but have to wonder if such a state of what I imagine to be Normal really exists! And just think – countdown to Christmas will begin before we know it…

So, as I embark on the chaos that is Moving House, I’m taking a deep breath and bracing myself for an even busier autumn. A few weeks ago I heard somebody say of me that I am someone who, when faced with problems ‘just gets on with it’. This chirked me up no end. I have always thought I was someone who makes heavy weather of things. Now I have a reputation to live up to.

It’s been a good summer, taking one thing with another. I’ve laid down some great memories. Now I’m ready to ‘get on with it’ this autumn.

I’m on holiday, OK?

Climbing the old lighthouse at Torungen

Somebody, [Moo], said it would be a good idea to write a post saying we were going to be on holiday so don’t go looking for a post over the summer because there wouldn’t be one.

This is fine in theory, and I agreed. And here it is. The only problem as far as I can see is that nobody reads our posts anyway, so they don’t know that there won’t be one for them to miss.

But because I’m the youngest and I always, usually, sometimes when it suits me follow the advice of my elder sister, I am writing this post. I am in Norway atm, on the Oslo Fjord. I don’t know where Moo is exactly but she will be chilling [1]. We have learnt to chill. It wasn’t invented when we were young but we are making up for lost time now.

I’m not going to start a rant about what life used to be like in the 60’s and 70’s, though frankly I could and I might make it interesting. But now we are nearing our dotage it’s about time we had a bit of chill, I mean we have been busy girls all our lives so, you know...

‘Chilling’ is a bit of a funny expression to be honest, particularly now when the weather is so hot. The other reason I find it odd is that I constitutionally do not like to get cold, so no, I don’t want to chill – I want a nice stable temperature.  I presume it means to take the heat off the situation in an emotional rather than a literal physical sense, but even here I prefer emotional warmth to chilly cold. Suffice it to say I will accept the word in the sense of slow down and stop working, relax and drink tea, especially if it comes with toast and marmite or at a pinch chocolate digestives.

Somebody said to me yesterday that they thought I was a very busy person. This cheered me up no end as I have always secretly worried that I am lazy. I think I am a lazy person actually, but one with a lot to do. But, I’m thinking that if I have been labelled a ‘busy person’ then by rights I deserve a chill time.

Fishing near Arundel. I caught a cod....

So, back to the Oslo Fjord: that’s where we are based but I drove three hours down to the south of Norway this morning. and I am sitting in a cabin in the shade. My husband is sitting outside in the hot midday sun reading a book [he will regret this later, trust me], while our Norwegian friend is getting the boat ready for an outing [2], while our friend’s wife is cooking us lunch. She is frying chicken fillets and tossing a crisp green salad. I spied a couple of bottles of red in the kitchen earlier, so although they DON’T HAVE ANY TEA [let alone completely no digestives and even less Marmite] I might just survive.

How’s that for chilling?

Notes:

1 Moo would like it to be known that she is not actually chilling. No. She is working out how to use her new camera so she can be a super duper photographer [my expression not hers] and fill ours and other pages with exquisite, cool images. So good luck with that, sis.

2 Our trip was to the Arundel region, and we climbed the old lighthouse, manned by the uncle of Morten Morland who is a cartoonist in London for the Times etc [by the way] and we went on a fishing trip and I caught a cod. Which the Norsk friend can clean and gut [thank you very much] and we will eat...