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It's not the sort of weather to sit and write the most wonderful blog ever, only to press a key in error and have the whole lot disappear into Lost Blogland. That's what I just did. B****r.
Eldest daughter invited me round for lunch today, how lovely. We sat in her garden and discussed all the important things in life, Big Brother, cats, sun-tan oils, central heating and how useless men are. I decided to delight her and took with me my latest purchase, a carrier bag full of shells. Some Mothers would take a bottle of wine, me, I take shells, and some coral. I consider I had a good buy. In one charity shop they were selling a sandwich bag of very ordinary shells for £2.99, I bought mine from the Red Cross shop for £3 and it's almost a carrier bag full of really unusual, pretty shells. I have no idea what I am going to do with them, I will find a use though. Strange co-incidence that two charity shops both had donations of shells. Lucky for me though, what would I have done without them?
Some of my shells
Tomorrow we shall be living the dream. Friends of ours have a boat they keep on the Thames, not near the sewage, and we are spending the day with them on their boat, fingers-crossed weather-wise. Last year we had the most glorious day, a taste of a life we can only fantasize about. I suppose if we won the lottery........ No I don't think that I would buy a boat. It would be cars x 5, a new roof, decorators both inside and out, a personal trainer, a new patio, a wendy-house, money to assorted relatives and good causes, and the rest in the bank. Hubby would give up work and buy a place abroad, near to the golf courses. I would carry on working, or open an independant midwives service. No strike that one, the people who can afford an independant midwive are not always the people I enjoy caring for. Okay then, I would provide the funds to turn our maternity unit into the best sort of environment for having babies in. I could have a room named after me - Pie in the Sky. Oh well, there's no harm in dreaming, especially since I don't do the lottery, Hubby does, he has to give me half though, doesn't he?
Messing around on the river
Such a good day yesterday. Meandered up the river to Henley whilst imbibing Bacardi Breezers. Had lunch at a pleasant inn, meandered back down the river to another inn. Beseiged by wasps, I trapped 9 of the rotters under assorted glasses but not before one had stung Hubby. Hubby became infuriated by the striped attackers and flicked one away, only to catch the edge of a nearly full beer mug with his hand and knock the contents all over our captain. Luckily we were all very mellow by this stage and the fact that our friend was soaked from the waist down caused us all to disolve into uncontrolled hysteria. Unluckily the spilt beer attracted more wasps, so we had to re-board the boat and head back upstream to the mooring. A quick change of clothes, into another pub, and then our final port of call, the Indian. Wonderful. No good for Atkins, but worth every carbohydrate.
Total privacy
This one really annoys me. People who have a house name and don't use their number as well and people who don't have their number and/or house name easily visible.
Yesterday, pouring down with rain, go to visit a patient in a quaint little village. Drive down a lane, see the house with the number prior to hers, so pull over. Get out of car, reluctantly, it was fine when I left for work so had skirt, T-shirt and sandals on. Feet straight into muddy puddle. Went to where I thought her house should of been. No, that was the following number. Went in the other direction up an alleyway, nothing, solid 6ft wooden fence and gate. Went back to car, which misted up instantly. Sitting in car on incontinence pad, not because of concerns regarding my pelvic floor, but because my clothes were literally dripping. Tried phoning the patient, engaged. Continued trying for 10 minutes, always engaged. Gave up and drove the 8 miles to my next patient. When I had finished there phoned up Mrs Lost-House again and got through. " Where is your house?" I asked plaintively. "Up the alleyway by the chapel" she says. "I went up there" says me. "Oh, its behind the wooden fence" she responds in a tone of voice indicating that she had doubts about my intelligence. " There isn't a number, or anything to show it's a house behind there" says mournful midwife "Yes, it looks like next doors garden doesn't it?" was the cheery response. So I drove back the 8 miles to see her. I did make the suggestion to her that her house was difficult to find, pointing out that the emergency services may also have problems "Oh, that would be OK because one of us would go into the road and direct them." I gave up.
This is a problem I encounter virtually daily. Half a street with no house numbers displayed so you have to go to the houses that have numbers up and then count from there. House names placed halfway up drives so you can't read them from the road. Sometimes just a house name and the name of the village given to you, so you spend ages driving around some deserted hamlet, invariably with no signal on your mobile, until you eventually find the right house. The best one though, is visits to travellers sites. Caravans dotted everywhere. No indications of numbers or plots, but the biggest, fiercest, looking dogs in the world. My tactic in this situation is to sit in the car and sound the horn, a group of children will usually surround the car and they will always know who needs the midwife and then escort you, safely, to the right van. A time and motion expert would have a field day with my job. A great deal of time spent looking for the right address. Frustrating in good weather, really annoying the rest of the time.
A Bargain
Out of boredom I clicked on the link heading my blog, medical instruments. What joy, for less than ten dollars I can buy a pair of umbilical scissors AND a pair of episiotomy scissors. I was confused though when I discovered that from this E-Bay store, specialising in surgical instruments, I could buy a pair of embroidery scissors for $2.50. I know I always tell my ladies, when I'm about to stitch them, that I am brilliant at cross-stitch, but I hadn't realised that I could incorporate my hobby into my work. I wonder what designs I could do? Perhaps their initials, or the date, or the name of the baby, all tastefully done in a colour representing the sex of their baby. Partners might request football team colours or logo's. The possibilities really are endless. I could compile a brochure of designs. Must put some thought into this one.
School Holidays
I just love it when the school run disappears. Suddenly the traffic on the road is reduced by over 50%. My journey to work becomes a driving pleasure. No more am I thinking evil, destructive thoughts about other motorists. My inventiveness, as to how I could kit out my car to cause cosmetic damage to other vehicles, no longer has to comfort me as I struggle to negotiate the plethora of 4 by 4, all-terrain monsters that clog-up our roads. I know I live in a fairly rural area, but apart from the odd pothole our roads are easily navigated. I know that the owners of these vehicles have not had to travel from isolated homesteads on rutted tracks, I see their mini-tanks parked, outside their houses, on well made gravel or block-paved drives. For some reason though, they have decided to purchase a beasty which guzzles fuel and takes up half the road, all to transport their pint-sized tot around. Not content with protruding in every direction over the lines in car parks due to their generous dimensions they also believe that when they 'drop off' outside a school they can obstruct roads and drives, whilst they have an impromptu Mothers meeting by the car, generally whilst they stand on the pavement watching the resulting traffic jam. Sometimes they feel that to really have maximun effect they should stand, in the road, with their door open. The other favoured manoever by these 4 by 4 guerillas is to pull-out infront of you, preferably crossing both lanes. Whilst there is little I can do about their inconsiderate parking, except dream of owning a Mad Max type vehicle with which to rip tyres and remove wing-mirrors, I now throw caution to the wind when one of these 'tanks' attempts the 'pull out in front of me' move. I don't stop. Too often I have been stop-start driving on my way home from a night-shift when the cheeky-chappies at the local private school have nosed their vehicle across from the opposite side of the road. I used to let them in, but that was never enough, oh no, they would tail-gate each other so that I would sit there whilst anything up to four 'executive' motors would pull in front of me. Now I just drive on. I do not acknowledge that I have seen them, it's my right of way. Okay, so my Clio would definitely come off worse, but it would be their fault, and they could pay.
Should we ban these over-sized playthings? No. Everyone has, or should have, choice. My solution is bring back the school-bus, and all schools to provide an area where that bus can pull-over without clogging up the road. Until this happens, (dream on), I shall just revel in those 12 sacred weeks when I get to work in a relaxed, non-aggressive frame of mind.