Monthly Archives: November 2021

Blood, blood, blood . . .

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This morning I went to have my blood extracted, not all of it, but a substantial amount. I went for two tests, but it’s just occurred to me that they took three tubes of blood. No doubt it will all become clear in a few weeks when I get another helping of unwanted medical advice.

They did my blood pressure too. It’s high. They know it’s always high when they take it in the surgery – it’s known a the “white coat effect”. It’s also a result of being messed about by the NHS with more inaccurate record keeping and unwanted tests and attempts to make more appointments I don’t want. To be fair, it’s more complicated than that and just as deadly as ordinary blood pressure, which is, as we all know, more dangerous than a charging rhino. Or so my doctor would have me believe. On the other hand they also told me that losing weight would lower my blood pressure, which turns out to be inaccurate. I’m beginning to think that the medical profession may not have all the answers.

To add to my annoyance my weight has crept up. It’s not a disaster but it’s disappointing. It has become more difficult to cut back after my appetite returned, and I’m still eating  less than I used to, so I thought I should at least be steady, rather than putting weight on. It’s a puzzle, but one that is easily solved by use of the ELF method – Eat Less, Fatso.

Not sure what to do for the rest of the day. I was planning on going out with Julia but as she is now booked in for flu vaccination at 2pm (after having been involuntarily rescheduled twice – ran out of vaccine the first time and and staff illness the second) the day is less convenient than it was. She won’t be able to settle if we go out before the appointment and it will be dark not long after the appointment, so it’s not really practical. That was one of the reasons my blood pressure was up this morning.

The header picture is a reminder of what we did in November 2019. And a reminder that I am hungry.

Feeling more like my old self

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Since writing the word “covid” in the blog I seem to have attracted a number of people who want to make comments on the evils of vaccination. Covid made me tired, but it didn’t make me tolerant. I’m happy for you to have the freedom to express your views but I’d like you to express them where I don’t have to see them. I have found out where the Spam button is and have, to be honest, enjoyed using it.

My unscientific observations seem to show that people who have had two vaccinations (and this sample includes two 80 year olds and a man with a serious heart problem) tend to describe covid as like having a bad cold, and being very tired. They don’t, as unvaccinated people still do, tend to clog up hospital beds and die.

If I eventually find that covid was a government plot or a way to vaccinate me with mind control nanobots I will just have to accept that I was wrong. Considering that our government couldn’t organise a party in a brewery I find it unlikely that they have managed to orchestrate a massive vaccine-based attack on society.

I’m now searching for a witty and upbeat ending. I’ve tried a couple but they are all rather bleak. That’s what happens when you write about governments and death.

Instead, I will merely point you in the direction of this link. Encourage bio-diversity by helping a Hen Harrier.  I normally get annoyed when people give to animal charities when there are so many humans needing help, but I like birds and don’t mind giving a few quid to help, particularly as the wife of a well known blogger is involved in the project.

I searched for a picture of a harrier (though I only have pictures of Marsh Harriers) but kept seeing food pictures. I am still hungry . . .

It’s Afternoon Tea at Botham’s of Whitby in September 2019.

Shopping and The Saint

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We’ve just been to pick up the shopping order from TESCO. There were a couple of things that weren’t available and one substitution.

This was bagged rocket (or arugula if you speak American). Yes, I shouldn’t be buying it, for a number of reasons, including expense and ecology, but I try to eat a variety of things and at least you can taste rocket. Well, not this week, because they substituted it fro lamb’s lettuce. They could have substituted organic rocket (though it may have made their price guarantee squeak a little), or watercress (another salad you can taste) or even the “peppery” salad, but no, they substituted it with the lamb’s lettuce. It will do, but it doesn’t look like the obvious substitution to me.

They don’t leave it to the discretion of the packers to do the substitution, they use an algorithm. Heaven help us if the robots ever take over – I cannot even begin to imagine what life will look like once we fall int6om the hands of the algorithm-wielding little metal menaces. That’s another good argument for not living to be a thousand.

The strange thing is that when I check rocket on the website, it is available, and lamb’s lettuce isn’t. Probably because they’ve been fobbing all the rocket customers off with lamb’s lettuce.

Easy answer is to give salad a miss until we can start growing our own again.

I watched The Saint at lunchtime. At the age of 8 I thought this was the best TV show ever made. Today, 55 years later, the tale of a mad scientists breeding giant ants in a Welsh cave system, though dated and not great literature, didn’t impress me quite so much. However, to be fair, it was far from the worst thing I’ve seen on TV recently.

The clock picture is to mark the occasion of me getting round to altering the clock in the car, after the clocks went back at the weekend. I kept meaning to do it but never got round to it. The story of my life.

 

Thinking of Food

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I’m still not working with all my brain cells. Doing the online shopping tonight I actually ordered reduced fat cheese. Fortunately I realised my error before pressing the button. Reduced fat cheese – you might as well go the whole way and just make a lettuce sandwich.

Apart from that, nothing much happened. I started some research which will hopefully bear fruit in a post next week, packed ten parcels, loaded several lots on eBay and went home.

Julia had bought sausage rolls on the way home and despite my diet I was, I admit, happy to see them.

The diet is up and down at the moment. I have been eating a bit too much recently but am currently trying to cut back. It is just after eleven pm as I write this and I am hungry. This is probably a good sign.

I had a large bowl of vegetable stew for tea, with three dumplings balanced on top. Julia has not, if I’m honest, taken the concept of portion control on board. No dessert. I only had one biscuit with my evening drink. Only one sandwich for lunch. An apple. An orange thing of indeterminate parentage. Breakfast was two own brand wheat biscuits with half a banana and some blueberries.

Yes, I admit that it’s hardly a starvation diet, but it lacks the two slices of toast and marmalade, a sandwich, and pudding, as well as the cake, biscuits and chocolate that always seemed to crop up.

That’s where you score with online shopping – no impulse buys, no sudden urge to eat a pork pie just because they look nice in the chiller . . .