This last couple of weeks has been a real mixed bag. We began with the mystery appointment in Limerick hospital. Jacqui received a number of texts reminding her she had an appointment, giving day and time. Only there had been no letter and there was no indication which department, where it was in the hospital and what for. Despite some determined phoning and leaving a number of messages on answering machines we left home none the wiser, just hoping we would arrive in time to sort it out. Jacqui’s guessing was spot on and we settled down for a wait in the eye clinic out patients.

We should have been warned something was not right when Jacqui’s report on the missing letter and lack of any replies was met with a shrug and a muttered, “Yeah, there’s a lot of that at the moment”. The eye department is generally very good – calm, efficient and informative despite occasional long waits. Not this time. The queues moved at a glacial pace, the camera operator was abrupt and monosyllabic and when we finally got to see a doctor, after almost four hours, it was unbelievably unprofessional.

We sat in the doctor’s room whilst he flipped through the file, obviously not having read it before calling us in. There were doors on both sides of the room and these were opened – and left open – after a couple of minutes. We could hear what was said next door and they could hear us. Then a string of a dozen people walked through, using it as a shortcut, chattering and ignoring us completely, though a couple did stop to offer the doctor a coffee. The final indignity was his offer to put Jacqui on the list for surgery, something we believe she joined over six months ago. We left, shaken, tired and dispirited. And worried for the dogs who had been left for much longer than we had expected.

We had a wonderful (if a bit frantic) greeting from the dogs on our return and things looked up a bit from then on. The weather for most of the fortnight has been glorious with days of warm sunshine and relatively cool nights. Andy came out and did a full service on the mower, clearing the cutting decks and sharpening the blades. Although we were both very tired from the Limerick episode we set to and did a much-needed proper mow of the wood, garden and orchard. It looks so much better now and the fruit trees are doing well, as is the honeysuckle in Betsy’s Corner.

Our builder, Philip arrived at the end of the week, as promised, and set to, mixing and laying concrete slabs for part of the lean-to and the site for a “hot bin” composter we are ordering. We were novices at composting, having only seen our fathers with their outdoor boxes. My dad would collect all the fruit peelings and vegetable scraps after every meal to add them to his compost heap. ‘Don’t throw that away,’ he’d say. ‘I need it to feed my worms!’ For much of my childhood I thought he had pet worms out in the garden and on several occasions was caught digging through the heap to find them, much to my mother’s dismay. Composting, we now know, it a bit of an art and a bit of a science. It needs the right temperature, proper circulation and a mix of “green” and “brown” to work properly. Well, the hot bin is supposed to be almost foolproof so we will give it a try.

On his second day Philip resurrected the wayward polytunnel and leveled the ground, filling the floor with some of the gravel still left over from the soakaway several years ago. He has done an excellent job and now we can put up some staging (arriving tomorrow) and start growing at last. We know what a good job Philip has done as very high wind, accompanied by thunder and vicious squalls, is swirling around now the fine weather has gone. The polytunnel hasn’t budged.

I’m probably going to take a break from my physiotherapy after the next appointment. My shoulders are much better, though still painful, and I’d like to see what progress I can make with slowly increasing my activity. I can drive a car a bit, drive the mower, do some weeding and cutting down of large weeds and even reach up to high shelves (if I’m careful). That’s a lot of progress considering how severe the injuries were and how old I am now.

I’m resigned to the fact I cannot ride the moped – it would be too risky and the roads are treacherous. Our road is narrow and twisting but a lot of vehicles drive fast along it, including large and heavy farm machinery. There has been slurry spreading up here for a week now and a few days ago I was walking back to the house when a tractor towing a slurry tank roared round the bend towards me. I pressed myself into the wall to get out of the way as the driver slowed for a moment before accelerating again. The pipes of the slurry tank whipped past just a few inches away leaving me shaking and furious. A few seconds earlier, a few inches closer, and you would not be reading this. Very much a mixed bag this week I feel.

Well, we are still here, still travelling hopefully and our little baby boy, Charlie, had his ninth birthday this week. It is amazing to think that this tiny little screaming blob has grown into such a handsome, brave and thoughtful dog. We must credit his granny Chloe and mum Cynthia who obviously have had a paw in his upbringing. We are very lucky to have him.

Thank you for reading and I hope you will join me in a couple of weeks time. I’m off to help write a quiz for next week.
Take care everyone.

Jennie.