Today
So sorry for my great niece whose little cat was killed yesterday, I assume in an accident. She's doubly upset because the cat was left lying where she was killed and she's angry at the implication of callousness. Of course, it may be that the perpetrator wasn't even aware of what had happened; cats can move very quickly. But either way, it's very distressing for her.
In My Day
Agamemnon was perhaps the most handsome cat I've ever owned. He was very aware of his regal good looks but this didn't stop him from being very affectionate; he just loved to sit on my lap!
The time was about half-past midnight, the date 5 May 1993. I was awoken by a horrible yowling under my window. "Oh, Agamemnon!" I thought "go and make this noise somewhere else!" I was quite accustomed to his territorial noisy gestures, designed to warn other cats off. I opened the window and there he was, crouching on the front lawn. I told him to stop his noise.
As soon as he saw me he started to come toward the house. Only he couldn't. He used his front legs to pull himself forward but was clearly severely hurt. I ran downstairs and picked him up. I couldn't see any blood but his back legs had simply stopped working. How he had dragged himself all the way home I've no idea.
In the morning, I had an appointment with Daddy's memorial but Paul agreed to take the cat to the vet. Later that afternoon I called Paul who told me that the vet had said that Agamemnon had suffered damage to his spine, probably from a glancing blow from a car. He'd been given a steroid injection but the vet wasn't too hopeful.
Home I dashed to take my beloved cat on my lap. I'm not sure that he knew who I was. His lips were curled backwards and soon he was having fits. I just held him tight, unable to do anything but watch as he died in great distress. I suppose this didn't take very long but it seemed long to me. Although he was eighteen years old, he had till then been in excellent health and I felt upset at having him snatched away from me.
I can only hope that the driver of the car that eventually dispatched him had not been aware of this happening and am glad that at least Agamemnon came home to die. Natasha, I know just how much you will miss little Bella.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Caretaker
Today
I'm always a little suspicious of "friend" requests from people I don't know. But when Sabine Bartosch not only asked to be my friend but also sent me an email reminding me that she'd been a student guest in my house back in 1981 I just had to accept. "I remember you!" I replied " you were so mannerly and went to the Catholic Church each Sunday so beautifully dressed."
In My Day
Having foreign students to share your house in summer was a standard part of life in Eastbourne. It was how you managed to afford a holiday or to furnish another room. Our houses were pretty small and we'd cram the children into the box room to give the best guest room to the students.
The experience ranged from the truly dreadful to the rewarding. Our first visitor was a German called Peter. After we'd got used to the German inability to add "please" to a remark we enjoyed his company. Next was Elmach, a genial young man with huge muscles, who ate just about all his rent in food; we just couldn't fill him. He was very embarrassed by the arrival of a compatriot, aged about 50, named Mrs Blank. This woman marched into out home, demanded tea, grumbled about the existence of cats in the house and stripped the sheets to check they were clean, Hang on, I thought they were our guests, not the hotel inspector! In the end we complained to the language school and they agreed that she had really come along for a cheap holiday and relieved us of her presence. At least it ensured the perfect mannerliness of Elmach from then on!
But, mostly, we had Austrian girls. So beautifully brought up. The first, Barbara, was a lively girl who was constantly falling in love with other (usually Italian) students she met in town. I've no idea how her parents coped with her. There was the red-haired Regina, the girl who wouldn't eat and the girl, whose sister was staying just up the road, who was the only person in the world afraid of Caspian the dog. Sabine I remember as a quiet oasis in our hectic lives. She remembers us as caring and kind, so we both benefited.
At least we never had to suffer the dreadful experience of our best friends, whose Spanish student simply looked the wrong way when crossing a road and was killed.
There are so many ways to discover and remember old friends and I'm always touched and delighted. Sabine, I hope your life has been rewarding; with four children it's certainly been busy! Perhaps we can find a way to meet again.
I'm always a little suspicious of "friend" requests from people I don't know. But when Sabine Bartosch not only asked to be my friend but also sent me an email reminding me that she'd been a student guest in my house back in 1981 I just had to accept. "I remember you!" I replied " you were so mannerly and went to the Catholic Church each Sunday so beautifully dressed."
In My Day
Having foreign students to share your house in summer was a standard part of life in Eastbourne. It was how you managed to afford a holiday or to furnish another room. Our houses were pretty small and we'd cram the children into the box room to give the best guest room to the students.
The experience ranged from the truly dreadful to the rewarding. Our first visitor was a German called Peter. After we'd got used to the German inability to add "please" to a remark we enjoyed his company. Next was Elmach, a genial young man with huge muscles, who ate just about all his rent in food; we just couldn't fill him. He was very embarrassed by the arrival of a compatriot, aged about 50, named Mrs Blank. This woman marched into out home, demanded tea, grumbled about the existence of cats in the house and stripped the sheets to check they were clean, Hang on, I thought they were our guests, not the hotel inspector! In the end we complained to the language school and they agreed that she had really come along for a cheap holiday and relieved us of her presence. At least it ensured the perfect mannerliness of Elmach from then on!
But, mostly, we had Austrian girls. So beautifully brought up. The first, Barbara, was a lively girl who was constantly falling in love with other (usually Italian) students she met in town. I've no idea how her parents coped with her. There was the red-haired Regina, the girl who wouldn't eat and the girl, whose sister was staying just up the road, who was the only person in the world afraid of Caspian the dog. Sabine I remember as a quiet oasis in our hectic lives. She remembers us as caring and kind, so we both benefited.
At least we never had to suffer the dreadful experience of our best friends, whose Spanish student simply looked the wrong way when crossing a road and was killed.
There are so many ways to discover and remember old friends and I'm always touched and delighted. Sabine, I hope your life has been rewarding; with four children it's certainly been busy! Perhaps we can find a way to meet again.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Toothmug
Today
Paul's having some difficulty with his meals at the moment. As part of his ongoing dental work (see Feb 17th 2010 entry http://in-my-day.blogspot.com/2010/02/positive-ageing.html), all the redundant teeth have been removed so that he has to eat his dinners with, effectively, just his incisors.
His dentist gave him the choice of implants or dentures. Thankfully, he chose the former. It would be a bit strange being married to a man who puts his teeth in a glass at night.
In My Day
Removable teeth can present many hazards. When Paul first joined the ambulance service in 1976 he was taught early on to remove the dentures of unconscious elderly patients. The ambulanceman responsible for his on the road training time and time again reminded him "teeth"!
On one occasion he was attending to a semi-conscious patient. He attempted to remove the teeth but the patient put up a surprising amount of resistance."Paul tried to persuade her "Come on, love, I've got to take them out; it's for your own safety." He continued to struggle while the patient clamped her mouth down on his hand.
Suddenly Paul noticed that his colleague was doubled up with laughter. "It's not funny", said Paul "can't you help me?" "I don't think so" replied Brian "I don't think those are dentures; I think they are her real teeth!" In great embarrassment Paul took his hand out of the patient's mouth.
And then there was the case of Fiona who, one night, removed all the dentures at the old folks' home where she worked and put the whole lot into a single large washing up bowl of disinfectant....I think some residents never got their own teeth back and there were some chomping away on two lots of uppers or lowers for some weeks.
Brian drove home the point by presenting Paul with a huge set of teeth made out of Eastbourne rock.
So, once Paul can actually chew his food, at least there won't be a toothmug by the bedside.
Paul's having some difficulty with his meals at the moment. As part of his ongoing dental work (see Feb 17th 2010 entry http://in-my-day.blogspot.com/2010/02/positive-ageing.html), all the redundant teeth have been removed so that he has to eat his dinners with, effectively, just his incisors.
His dentist gave him the choice of implants or dentures. Thankfully, he chose the former. It would be a bit strange being married to a man who puts his teeth in a glass at night.
In My Day
Removable teeth can present many hazards. When Paul first joined the ambulance service in 1976 he was taught early on to remove the dentures of unconscious elderly patients. The ambulanceman responsible for his on the road training time and time again reminded him "teeth"!
On one occasion he was attending to a semi-conscious patient. He attempted to remove the teeth but the patient put up a surprising amount of resistance."Paul tried to persuade her "Come on, love, I've got to take them out; it's for your own safety." He continued to struggle while the patient clamped her mouth down on his hand.
Suddenly Paul noticed that his colleague was doubled up with laughter. "It's not funny", said Paul "can't you help me?" "I don't think so" replied Brian "I don't think those are dentures; I think they are her real teeth!" In great embarrassment Paul took his hand out of the patient's mouth.
And then there was the case of Fiona who, one night, removed all the dentures at the old folks' home where she worked and put the whole lot into a single large washing up bowl of disinfectant....I think some residents never got their own teeth back and there were some chomping away on two lots of uppers or lowers for some weeks.
Brian drove home the point by presenting Paul with a huge set of teeth made out of Eastbourne rock.
So, once Paul can actually chew his food, at least there won't be a toothmug by the bedside.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Decor
Today
Although the flat in Brighton is Regency in origin, Paul & I (more especially Paul) have rather a hankering for the Art Deco. We do have Art Deco style uplighters in t
he hall but that's about it. Or was until yesterday. Paul has been longing for an Art Deco "Lady Lamp" for ages, but all that we looked at were naff or the wrong colour or shape. Yesterday we wandered into the Snoopers' Paradise in Kensington Gardens, ostensibly so that I could try to find some nice handbag clasps and there she was: 7ft tall, white porcelain, holding aloft the torch! At half-price, bargainaceous as well. "Shall we go and have a cup of tea and think about it?" I asked Paul. "There's nothing to think about", he said.
he hall but that's about it. Or was until yesterday. Paul has been longing for an Art Deco "Lady Lamp" for ages, but all that we looked at were naff or the wrong colour or shape. Yesterday we wandered into the Snoopers' Paradise in Kensington Gardens, ostensibly so that I could try to find some nice handbag clasps and there she was: 7ft tall, white porcelain, holding aloft the torch! At half-price, bargainaceous as well. "Shall we go and have a cup of tea and think about it?" I asked Paul. "There's nothing to think about", he said.And so Aphrodite came into our lives, a "lady lamp" with a difference.
In My Day
Fashions in home decor come and go much like everything else and when I was a child anything from the '20s or '30s would just have been seen as hopelessly dowdy and old-fashioned, although I believe we had a steel-framed couch inspired by the Bauhaus. In fact, none of our furniture was at all stylish and had mostly been acquired with economy and child-resistance in mind.
In the early days of our marriage, Paul introduced me to his Auntie Norah. She had recently inherited a house, fully furnished, from an elderly relative. The house was perched on Telscome Tye and was absolutely crammed with art deco. There was any number of lady-lamps, little wall-planters shaped like picture hats and completely meaningless plaster wall plaques of ladies with attenuated necks gazing into the distance,
There were mirrors whose perimeters were gently stepped in traditional Art Deco fashion and coloured a light salmon pink and cupboards with equally sloping shoulders and little fan-like decorations on their fronts. Paul and I thought it was all hideous and were surprised that Norah gave it house room.
Of course it would all be worth a fortune today and I can't track the moment when our tastes changed.
But Aphrodite looks absolutely wonderful and I'm totally in love. I hope that those who come after us will take good care of her.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Rough Justice
Today
A big fuss today because of the news that John Venables, one of the killers of James Bulger, may have to stand trial for another crime. The hounds of vengeance are baying for blood. Given that he was ten years old at the time and has served the sentence laid down for him, I agree totally with the judge that his anonymity is crucial because there are those out there who would take the law into their own hands.
In My Day
This is really Becky's story but it sheds a light on cases such as these. When Becky lived in Wimbledon she was in the shopping centre one day. She heard a child's voice saying "Mummy?" Looking around she saw a child of about two, clearly lost. Other shoppers were ignoring the child and there was no sign of the mother or a responsible adult.
Becky approached the child and asked if he was lost. She then took him into a shop and asked if they could contact security and put out a page to locate the mother.
This was duly done and the mother turned up. Without a word of thanks to Becky the mother went off with her child.
A few minutes later, Becky saw the mother, deep in conversation with a friend, paying no attention as the child wandered off again. This time she didn't intervene.
When she told me the story I gasped "But that's James Bulger all over again!" It's my belief that if just one person had paid attention to this unattended two year old, he might still be alive and his killers may be living normal lives.
I am so sorry for his death, but every adult in that shopping centre that day, and his mother must take some responsibility for the fact that he was able to wander alone to meet his killers.
A big fuss today because of the news that John Venables, one of the killers of James Bulger, may have to stand trial for another crime. The hounds of vengeance are baying for blood. Given that he was ten years old at the time and has served the sentence laid down for him, I agree totally with the judge that his anonymity is crucial because there are those out there who would take the law into their own hands.
In My Day
This is really Becky's story but it sheds a light on cases such as these. When Becky lived in Wimbledon she was in the shopping centre one day. She heard a child's voice saying "Mummy?" Looking around she saw a child of about two, clearly lost. Other shoppers were ignoring the child and there was no sign of the mother or a responsible adult.
Becky approached the child and asked if he was lost. She then took him into a shop and asked if they could contact security and put out a page to locate the mother.
This was duly done and the mother turned up. Without a word of thanks to Becky the mother went off with her child.
A few minutes later, Becky saw the mother, deep in conversation with a friend, paying no attention as the child wandered off again. This time she didn't intervene.
When she told me the story I gasped "But that's James Bulger all over again!" It's my belief that if just one person had paid attention to this unattended two year old, he might still be alive and his killers may be living normal lives.
I am so sorry for his death, but every adult in that shopping centre that day, and his mother must take some responsibility for the fact that he was able to wander alone to meet his killers.
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