Unwanted services

I woke up at six thirty to take an antibiotic, but couldn't get back into deep sleep afterwards and got up at eight to a day of sunshine and showers. So far no torrential rain or flash flooding in Wales. Dry ground is softening and absorbing rainfall. So far, so good. The death toll continues to rise following the landslide and flash floods in Nepal, and there will be more to come as rain falls, adding to the waters dammed up behind the fallen rock and rubble, adding to the danger for rescue workers.

It's Kath's birthday today. She's busy rehearsing Sonrisa's next tour of their show 'Dance in the Dark', so no time for a proper celebration, so Clare and I sang her a Happy Birthday greeting on What'sApp instead.

Clare was already in the GP telephone queue trying to arrange a blood test for herself, and also mentioned that I needed a telephone consultation too. Dr Jordan called me after breakfast, giving me an opportunity to chase up my medication review request, explaining that the combined effect of the platelet lubricant and penicillin medications on my digestive system was making it difficult for me to function and ruining my quality of life. I don't know how this will be followed through. At least I have given the medics feedback on the treatment. The crater left by the erupting boil in my buttock is slowly drying and still tender. Wound dressing after emptying my bowels is tricky, but Clare is making a good job of making it comfortable for me to sit on. 

Yesterday, I received a British Gas Home Care letter exhorting me as a new customer to book service appointments. I had been awaiting a letter confirming the cancellation of this unwanted account, and the service hotline number we called was locked in a loop making it impossible to speak to a live human being. How could I know this wasn't a scam? I wrote a carefully worded letter of complaint to the company, giving an account of what had happened and stating that I intended to cancel the direct debit order. If I owed them a cancellation fee, I wanted them to invoice me for it by email and undertook to pay.

After lunch we went into town by bus to visit Santander Bank and cancel any direct debit in favour of British Gas Home Care. We learned that the amount of the cancellation fee had already been taken out of our account, but nothing more. The first instalment due for payment is scheduled for payment on the first of the month. I cancelled the direct debit order. Hopefully that will be the end of this troublesome affair.

Before going shopping for underpants, we had a cup of tea in Marks and Spencers. I was disappointed to be served tea in a tall cardboard cup. It took ages to cool down, and tasted of waxed paper. We should have made the effort to go to John Lewis' tea room instead and have tea delivered in a pot and drink from proper china cups. Not fine china, but definitely superior to the M&S offering.

After supper, Clare went out to a concert at St John's. My head cleared sufficiently to enable me to go out for a sunset walk. I finished the day watching the rest of 'Nora Sand'. It was so slow moving that it was difficult to retain sufficient concentration to grasp the detail of the plot. Ah well!

Himalayan tragedy

Up at six thirty to take an antibiotic, and manage the buttock wound at the trickiest time of day when my bowels empty. Thankfully Clare is at hand to sanitize it and apply a dressing. I slept fairly well, but not long enough. Tiredness is inescapable as I can't relax and sleep well enough while I'm in this condition. 

I dread to think what it's like for Nepalese people and their tourist trek guests in the wake of flash floods driving mudslides and destroying villages.  It seems a glacier collapse undermined by melt water and triggered a colossal landslide damming the valley below, building up water until it burst through, spilling rock and mud downhill. Essential infrastructure, roads, bridges hydro power generation and water supplies as well as telecommunications have been hit hard. 1,300 are reported missing and 350 dead.

Clare baked bread this morning and I cooked cod and veg for lunch, struggling with the faintness and swimming head that replaces hunger pangs on an empty stomach. I ate a large slice of banana cake before the meal to fend off the feeling while I cooked and took spoonfuls of kefir yogurt in the hope it would make me feel better. Eventually it did, but the 'toxic head' sensation was inescapable. I couldn't sleep, and walked up and down Llandaff Fields for an hour which improved matters a little. I don't know if it's the infection that makes me feel unwell or the impact of the antibiotic on my digestion, already suffering from the clot busting slow release capsules.

I realised that we didn't have suitable wound dressings in the house not long before the pharmacy was due to close. I didn't have the energy to rush out and buy some, my ankle was giving me trouble. Clare spared me the agony, went out and bought some then dressed the wound when she returned. I meant I could sit in comfort during the evening. My head cleared enough for me to watch a Danish crimmie called 'Nora Sand' on Walter Presents. It features a prize winning crime journalist whose team investigates the background of characters involved in a crime. They show up the weaknesses of Police detectives in advancing the case. It's intense in its portrayal of people involved and the relationships between them, and for that reason it's very slow moving - so much so that I started to doze off at one point. My life is beset with too much drowsiness as it. Time for bed. 

Fighting infection

I woke up at six to take the antibiotic, and had to get up at eight as my bowels were threatening to empty. It was messy as I was wearing a plaster over the burst boil. At a time like this I really miss having a bidet. With Clare's help, I got cleaned up and the wound dressed. I only had a fair night's sleep, but didn't feel too tired, and went to the St Catherine's Eucharist taking my bum cushion with me. As I was leaving, a big heavy bag of fish arrived from Ashton's to fill the freezer. It's a lot of work for Clare to package and label meal portion pieces individually, as she's very thorough. It makes meal preparation a lot easier for both of us on a day to day basis. 

Fr Andrew celebrated this morning with eight of us. I didn't stop for coffee and chat afterwards, but bought a pound of church garden cherry tomatoes from Hilary and left. I didn't feel like talking about my affliction to anyone. I went to the Co-op to buy kefir yogurt and came straight home. The aroma of salmon soup with sweet potato greeted me when I arrived - today's culinary treat. I slept in my arm chair for over an hour after we'd eaten, making up for waking up so early. Then, a circuit of Llandaff Fields in bright afternoon sunshine, at 26C with no breeze, so it felt hot. My feet hurt in a way that reminded me of daily walks after bum surgery, while my body was still getting rid of toxins and medication residue in my bloodstream. Without exercise then, recovery would have taken longer. No matter how uncomfortable, it's important to keep moving without overdoing the effort.

Iran and Oman have agreed to establish a temporary navigational corridor through the Straight of Hormuz although the waterway officially closed until the US lifts its blockade on Iranian ports. Trump persists in sanctioning any country trading with Iran. The Chinese government, a key energy trading partner has denounced American policy Meanwhile some ships are slipping through the Straight with their identifying transponder signals switched off. Trump claims 'a big victory' saying the waters are de-mined and fully functioning, but shipping data shows maritime traffic is severely restricted and well below pre-war levels. Trump's bullying rhetoric and lies will do nothing to boost his plummeting popularity. He's making a fool of himself. Iran claims to be rebuilding military capacity hit hard by American and Israeli strikes, importing weapons as well as manufacturing and rebuilding defence systems. Like China, Russia is there in the background unchallenged. Russia was already sanctioned due to the Ukraine war.

Reports are coming in of flash floods with mud slides in the Himalayas, on the border between Nepal and Tibetan China, with hundreds dead or missing and villages destroyed. Glacier ice melting as a result of global warming is the cause. Alpine villages in the lee of glaciers are increasingly at risk of being lost. It's impossible to predict when localised environmental collapses of this kind will happen, but it's inevitable more disasters of this kind will follow. Industrial world leaders, in their own interests denied there was such a serious crisis coming for too long. Now everyone pays, one way or another.

Boil

A good night's sleep. despite having to wake up and take an antibiotic on schedule at six thirty.  The infected buttock wasn't painful overnight, but I'm not sure what's happening with the small lump which seems to be a boil, and what I should do about it. All I can do is keep it clean and disinfect the area. During the morning the lump burst open. Definitely a boil. Messy but less uncomfortable, essential to keep the afflicted area clear and disinfected. Thank heavens for penicillin at work on the inside. 

I cooked lunch while Clare was out shopping. The combined effect of the antibiotics and regular medication in the hour before eating is hard to cope with, making me feel as if I'm about to collapse. I have to eat something calorific while cooking to avoid an accident.

It's cool and cloudy today, but increasingly muggy with a rare  weather warning for thunderstorms. After lunch, I went to the shops to get plasters from Boots and a mild liquid antiseptic from the Coop as Boots  sells everything apart from what I was looking for. Dettol is widely available, but too strong on sensitive areas, even diluted. Will TCP ever return to the shelves in Britain? The mile walk to the shops and back was a struggle against tiredness induced by the drugs if not infection. Penicillin is not kind to my digestion adding to the ill effect of the slow release capsules.

I went out before supper to post Kath's birthday card and walked until it was time to return for the news and 'The Archers'. Clare cooked a cheesecake recipe found on Instagram of all places, using thick Greek yoghurt  cooked with an egg and flavourings whisked into it. It had a slightly odd texture and I had trouble swallowing a mouthful as the penicillin degrades my digestive system juices ability to dissolve some foods easily and this affects swallowing certain foods. Such a shame.

Clare found a programme on iPlayer of classical music highlights recorded in 2025 and we watched it together. Star performances displaying interesting and informative subtitles to give them context. It was a consoling end to a difficult day.

Déjà vu - Infection

I slept well and was reasonably clear headed. I spent half an hour in the GP surgery telephone queue for an appointment before getting up for breakfast. Clare accompanied me to the surgery where I was fortunate  enough to be seen by Dr Dyban who looked after me when I had the nightmare of the anal abscess back in 2018. She saw the lump on my right buttock as a sign of infection in the surgical wound scar, and prescribed a strong antibiotic, penicillin. My temperature hasn't risen. I don't know if it's infection, or the clot busting medication alone that is making me feel poorly. If the inflamed muscles don't respond I'll have to go to A&E and have it lanced, something I dread. 

We collected a prescription from the pharmacy ordered on-line by Dr Dyban as I left the surgery, then went to the Coop for groceries. I carried them home while Clare went on to the library to collect a new bright red recycling bag. One of the Coop's flimsy recyclable bags burst and spilled its content on the street on my way back, making it a challenge to get the shopping home without losing anything. 

Clare cooked trout fillets for lunch. I was too agitated to rest afterward and went out for a walk to help my blood to circulate the antibiotic through infected muscles. 

Rachel sent a message asking us to send the details of the toilet seat bidet purchase which arrived without the correct plumbing adaptor for UK pipes so that she can raise the issue with the American nanufacturers. Tracking it on our on-line bank statement was as hard as finding a needle in a haystack. Eventually Clare's Amazon account came up with complete details of the order, so I took a screenshot and sent it to her

We watched the Musikverein open air Summer Concert broadcast live from the Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna. Bryn Terfel was the star solist, singing arias from Das Rheingold and Fiddler on the Roof. I was reminded of how moving and powerful it was when this concert took place during the covid pandemic. A carefully rehearsed act of defiance to the plague with all the health and safety measures implemented, to raise the spirits of people in lock-down all over Europe. A reminder to me right now to be very careful in how I cope with this infection.

Unwelcome ache

 A good night's sleep, waking up to sunshine and a clear sky and a fairly clear head. There were as many people in the choir as in the congregation at the St Catherine's Eucharist. Whatever else the meds may do to prevent another stroke or coronary, they dull my brain and impair reactions. The worst thing they do is to destablise my bowels with excessive wind and diarrhea and this has proved painful and bruising recently. My right buttock feels as if I've been kicked hard. The pain and discomfort reminds me of how this area felt when I had the anal abscess. Is this scarred muscle tissue being torn by pressure from emptying my bowels - collateral damage from a so-called life saving drug that ruins my quality of life? If I go to A&E today, quite apart from the long wait, the thought of another spell in hospital and maybe surgery fills me with dread. I haven't fully recovered from the assault on the senses of my last admission. If it doesn't get any worse, I'll go to the GP surgery tomorrow and ask for an assessment.

Clare didn't go to church with me this morning as she wanted to attend the Welsh service in the afternoon, so lunch was ready soon after I returned home. I slept for an hour and a half after the meal, then went for a walk around Llandaff Fields for another hour. Walking boosts the circulation which helps clear the head and ease the bruised buttock feeling. It's worth the effort.

After supper, I transcribed more of the Ulster travel diary. The way I write has changed a great deal in the years since then. I recognise the writer I was in those days, but don't think that I like the person I was back then. While it may read like a journalist's note book of observations and anecdotes, it's opinionated, rough and ready. It wasn't written with an audience in mind. Blogging has changed that for me, although I have never written for any particular group of readers and have no idea who the couple of dozen people are whose page visits are recorded after blogs are posted. It's the sense that somebody may be paying attention which drives me to express myself and my ideas as clearly as possible. I'll never know if I succeed in this. Enough for today. Sleep beckons.

Remembering my father's passing

A refreshing night's sleep, waking to a clear sky and bright sunshine for breakfast pancakes which Clare had cooked by the time I got up. I had a dream in which I was being recruited to join a ministry team at a church in Cardiff which I didn't recognise from the image of it the dream presented. I appreciated the fact the team was interested in having me join them and dreamt I was fit and well enough, but had misgivings I couldn't identify about doing so. Does this echo the feeling that I now miss being an active contributor to the life of the church, since I had to discontinue taking services and offering weekly Morning Prayer and Reflection a month ago? 

The house needed cleaning, as Jorja wasn't able to come and clean for us this week. Having hoovered down stairs I put the batter on charge and detached the dust container for emptying. When I came to re-attach it, I couldn't work out how to do it. It's something I've done many times automatically, relying on visual and body memory. I needed Clare's help to do this. This is symptomatic of the way the medication is messing with my head, slowing down or disrupting completely habitual connections the brain makes.  It was most distressing and frustrating.

We drank our morning coffee sitting in the garden under the sunshade, watching bees and other insects visit the Potentilla bush, covered with scores of small yellow flowers - a reassuring sight. A gentle cooling breeze prevented the garden from being too hot for comfort.

At lunchtime, Clare cooked rice and ratatouille with added smoked salmon for flavour. Then we walked to the Summerhouse café in Bute Park for a cup of tea. The waters of the Taff are low due to the drought, exposing rocks in the river bed and pebble beaches seldom seen. I wonder how the river salmon will fare?

On returning home, I had enough energy and clarity to transcribe a few more pages of my 1974 Ulster travel diary. It records that my father and I talked on the phone on the 19th August, the night before he was due to go into the Heath hospital for the fitting of a pacemaker following a heart attack months earlier. He had another heart attack that night and was taken into intensive care in Llandough hospital where he died on the 25th.  The root cause, an untreated strangulated hernia, very much an industrial injury from a physically tough life for a skilled man. His expertise was working with steel haulage ropes, on which he wrote a technical book and had it published. A remarkable feat for a man who left school literate and numerate at fourteen, and illustrated the book with his own detailed drawings.

My journal detail is vague at this point but suggests we started for home a few days early due to his illness. June was there with him to the end. It wasn't easy to stay in touch with her for updates in those days, long before mobile phones. It all happened too quickly to say goodbye at such a distance, but I remember that he was apprehensive about surgery when we talked on the phone for the last time, fifty two years ago. He met his grand daughters, Kath and Rachel, but Owain, also named John after him, he never knew for he was born four years after his death.

Toxic legacy

On one of the half a dozen occasions I woke up I'd been dreaming of skiing confidently down a long slope on short Alpine skis without using poles, the way you often see young children doing. Something I was never able to do back in the day. It was an unexpected moment of delight in the middle of the night. Then I woke up early and couldn't get back to finish sleeping as much as I needed. I had to make up for it by going back to bed for an hour after breakfast. The medication has caused me to feel drowsy and unwell for most of the day. I feel as if I'm sleepwalking. It's most unpleasant. Is this something to do with the drugs doing their clot dispersal job?

We had trout for lunch filleted in such a way that initially I thought it was a piece of salmon, but it could be something to do with the effect on the medication on my perception. My ability to rely on memory is undermined, not by totally forgetting, but by my slowness of recall. The afternoon was cloudy with brief spells of drizzle, pleasantly cool. After we'd eaten I went to Tesco's to withdraw cash from their ATM and buy some mushrooms. Then I walked up and down Llandaff Fields for an hour, and again for a short while after supper, contending with ankle joint pain which occurs if my leg muscles aren't warmed up enough. 

We watched the second part of Michael Sheen's documentary 'Buried' about the scandalous dumping of toxic PCB chemicals, exposing publicly and formally the seriousness of contamination with a presentation made at a meeting in the Senedd. The appeal for urgent action has been made, but responses from public authorities have been lukewarm and evasive to say the least, so things are likely to get worse. Monsanto Chemicals whose dumped toxic products are the source of the problem, have yet to be called to account and made to pay for clearing up the environment affected by chemical leaks. I hope the airing of this most serious issue will lead to a government response and action. The entry of PCBs into the food chain and in all our bodies is a threat to the health and welfare of all inhabitants and to wildlife. 

On a more cheering note, after this we watched another fascinating edition of 'Fake or Fortune' about the authentication of a couple of sketchbooks filled with drawings and water colours by the young Henri Toulouse-Lautrec. It was partly in French, which made it even more enjoyable to end the evening.

Blocked

I thought I'd have to go out and buy a new fitbit today, but when I woke up at half past seven and picked it up, I found that it had rebooted overnight. The clock time was out by fifteen minutes, but corrected itself once it synced with my phone after switching it on. Such odd behaviour. At least I had what felt like a decent night's sleep, but the benefit of that was short lived. After taking my morning meds the drowsiness and sensation of faintness returned to ruin the day yet again, no matter what I do to mitigate the impact of this drug on my digestive system and brain.

Lucy Winkett's 'Thought for the Day' was about the evil of modern slavery. She started by telling the story of 18th century abolitionist  Ottobah Cugoano, kidnapped as a child at play in Ghana, trafficked to Grenada to be a slave exploited on a sugar plantation, then bought by an English merchant who brought him to England where eventually he gained his freedom, learned to read and write, and published a book witnessing to his experience of slavery, and advocating an end to the slave trade. He joined with his friend, Olaudah Equiano, another freed slave, to campaign for abolition. He began in England by seeking baptism, having understood the Gospel truth that all people are equal in the body of Christ. It gave him confidence to make the case against slavery and people trafficking in a way that reached the hearts and minds of those whose decisions could make a difference by changing the law and setting people free. Two centuries later we're still working at genuine equality for all God's children. Society is still overshadowed by the spectre of racism in different guises.

Mid morning, Clare discovered the kitchen drain was blocked with clumps of congealed and solidified fat and heaven knows what else underground. This happened before - three years ago. Then I was able to clear the blockage after opening up the sewer cover. This time I couldn't. We no longer have suitable tools to open the hatch. There was nothing we could do, apart from calling out a drain clearance service to deal with it. I find it humiliating, being helpless in the face of problems I once took in my stride. Despite the drain crisis, Clare went ahead with cooking a veggie pasta lunch which included freshly picked runner beans from Linda's garden.

At two thirty a woman from SR Drainage arrived in a van equipped with suitable unblocking tools and a device with a video camera and light at the end of a long cable attached to a rugged laptop console. This made it possible to see inside the drain past the choke point, using florescent dyes and record the water flow. The blockage occurred in the opposite direction to the kitchen sink drain to the one I presupposed. Water from upstairs at the back side of the house flows beneath the house and out into the street. I guess the cause of this was the amount of toilet paper I used when I had my last nose bleed. If there's a next time it must go in a bin, not down the toilet.

I walked for an hour in Llandaff Fields at tea time. There was a fresh westerly breeze blowing occasional light showers, but fortunately it stayed dry while I was out.

I had a message from Rachel announcing that today is Jasmine's first day at University in Phoenix. Both grand daughters are now undergraduates! Amazing how time flies.

Trump has announced a campaign of 'economic warfare' against Iran threatening to punish any company that trades with the regime. It's a tacit recognition that America has failed to subdue Iran and take control of the Straight of Hormuz, despite all the aggressive rhetoric of the past few months. His popularity keeps declining along with Republican prospects in the mid term elections.

Trump's excuse for persisting with warmongering is the intention to deprive Iran of the ability to make nuclear weapons. It suggests US intelligence cannot be certain if strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities have been sufficiently successful in destroying the industrial capacity required. And there's the matter of the stockpile of enriched uranium still held by Iran despite the past three months of unfruitful truce negotiations. Is there any prospect of peace in the Middle East until Trump and Netanyahu are voted out of office and replaced by leaders with wisdom and respect for their adversaries not just hatred and contempt?

It rained during supper time and stopped as the sun set, so I went out and walked the streets for half an hour in cool fresh air. The sky was overcast, dusk seemed to arrive unexpectedly.  Leaves dried out by heat and lack of rain are falling early, carpeting grass with golden brown leaves. The rain of recent days has brought back some hint of green to parched turf. A hint of autumn and longer nights to come. Early bed tonight.

Acupuncture to the rescue

Rain again in the night, but the sun shone through parting clouds by the time I got up after a fair night's sleep. My head was clear and my senses sharp to start with, but the meds had their usual toxic effect which I will never get used to. At the Eucharist at St Catherine's with nine others, I found it hard to concentrate and engage. Over coffee afterwards Sue noticed and asked me if I was all right. I had to admit I was in a drugged stupor, hearing everything but finding it hard to engage and respond. 

Afterwards, I went across the road to the GP surgery for the phlebotomist to take blood for testing after last week's failed attempt to extract any from me. OK this time. I cooked rice with prawns and veg for lunch, then walked to Parkwood clinic for an acupuncture appointment. It was certainly effective. I felt as if an invisible wrapping had been removed from me, restoring my senses and sensitivity, although my head still wasn't clear. I walked home in a tired way, without a spring in my step, but feeling better nevertheless.

After supper, I walked up and down Llandaff Fields and got caught in a shower of light rain. It was quite a pleasant experience. Then we watched a documentary about the scandal of PCB pollution and high level cover up of the ever present danger of carcinogenic chemicals dumped by Monsanto Chemicals in the soil at different sites around the country, including a couple of sites in the South Wales valleys. It was presented by actor Michael Sheen, who got to know whistleblower Douglas Gowan before his death and filmed an interview with him. Very disturbing watching.

I put my fitbit on charge before getting ready for bed. When I came to check it had charged I found that it was dead after only three years in daily use.

Escalation resumes

I woke up in the night and heard the sound of rainwater dripping from the gutter outside my window. Even so, I had a good night's sleep - not quite refreshing as it took me a while to chase away sleepiness when I got up. As part of breakfast I had a slice of bread covered in olive oil, mixed with cayenne pepper to stimulate my digestion, faced with the assault on my stomach of the medication. If this reduced the impairment of my senses and slowness of reactions, I might be able to concentrate better and be more confident in getting on with everyday life.

The morning sky was full of clouds on the move, so more rain is likely. The official drought has lasted three weeks after a longer dry spell, before summer heatwaves dried vegetation to the point that it easily catches fire. Hopefully there won't be monsoon like cloudbursts that dry ground cannot absorb, causing flash floods. 

Yesterday the sixty day period of negotiation between America and Iran expired without agreement being reached. Trump is demanding surrender. Iran has closed the Straight of Hormuz until the US lifts its naval blockade of Iranian ports, releases Iranian frozen assets and stops military threats. Trump has threatened to bomb US ally Oman if it gets in the way of American efforts to dominate the Straight of Hormuz. Oman recently helped to facilitate a safe passage for shipping through the Straight. What does Trump hope to achieve by his unpredictable coercive behaviour, especially as American polls show his approval rating is low? The conflict is escalating again. The price of oil has gone up again and America will suffer economically. American stocks of armaments are running low, and Iran still hasn't relinquished control of its geographically strategic waterway. What will happen in the mid-term congressional elections if the Republicans lose control in both Houses?

The US backed Gaza peace plan depends on the disarmament of Hamas, the withdrawal of Israeli troops and the rebuilding of Gaza under a new Palestinian civil administration, but Netanyahu obstructs progress, distrusting Hamas to honour any peace deal. Israel is now attacking Syrian targets as well. Is Netanyahu advertising his independent and belligerent stance with forthcoming elections in mind? 

I started thinking about the time I spent in Jerusalem back in 2000, wondering what happened to any writing I did when I was there. I can't remember what sort of record I made or in what format. In a digital archive of the year 2000 I found a copy of an email written as I was about to return from Jerusalem which sums up and reflects on the experience. If there's more, I have yet to locate it.

After lunch and a rest, I went to Tesco's and bought a packet of cayenne pepper, as I used up the remainder of a small spice jar at breakfast this morning. The piano tuner was in session when I got home, so I went out again and walked up and down Llandaff Fields until supper time to complete my daily distance.

We watched another intriguing episode of 'Fake or Fortune' again after supper. It was about identifying a sixteenth century Venetian depiction of the pieta which had been hanging in Tunstall Parish church in  rural Lancashire for two centuries. Cleaning and restoration of the painting revealed its history and led to its attribution in another amazing piece of historical detective work to Francesco Montemezzano of the school of Tintoretto. It's now valued at £100,000. I imagine this must add considerably to the cost of church security and insurance. Glad I don't have to worry about things like that any more.

Cayenne

After a good night's sleep, I woke up to an overcast sky. A cooling breeze from the north and west brings with it the prospect of much needed rain. It's been a very demanding weekend for firefighters bringing wildfires under control across the heights of the South Wales coalfield plateau through which the Valleys were carved by the Ice Age. Seeing fires rage on hilltops above towns and villages must be a terrifying experience. A change of wind direction has driven the stench from fires north of Cardiff in an easterly direction. Even if rain is plentiful when it arrives, it will take time to extinguish upland peat fires kindled by vegetation burning above ground. The emergency services teamwork response to this widespread major incident has been brilliant, admirable.

Rachel sent me a link to a short YouTube video recommending the medicinal use of cayenne pepper in small doses to stimulate blood circulation and promote wound healing. It sounded quirky, but it made me wonder if it would help me, given that some of the side effects of the medication I'm taking is to upset my stomach and give me a mild headache. The medication was already having its negative effect, making me drowsy and faint if not dizzy. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I thought, and took a pinch of cayenne. It must work on the stomach, as it dispersed the drowsiness and left me feeling to some extent, less worse.

We shared the cooking of lunch. I went to bed and slept for an hour afterwards, then we walked up to the Padel courts and had a cup of tea in the Square and Fair cafe next door. 

An email arrived from Alan Stott to say they'd been spared the wildfire in Stourbridge, although it broke out in a coppice not far from where he lives. He thought it was a bonfire when it started, he said.

I went out again after supper and walked up and down Llandaff Fields to complete my daily distance. I drizzled olive oil on a slice of Clare's bread and mixed some cayenne pepper into it, for an experiment. It tasted quite pleasant. Maybe I haven't been so drowsy today, but the mild background headache hasn't gone away. 

Gracelands album celebrated

A warm sunny day, following quite a good refreshing night's sleep, not that the feeling lasted long. Once I took the medication I felt the usual sensation of faintness and drowsiness combined, making everything an effort. Thankfully it doesn't affect my breathing or my heart, I just feel unwell. We went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's after breakfast with about three dozen others. Sadly attendance is low in school holidays. 

As well as selling produce from the church garden after the service, Hilary has been busy making chutney and grape jelly - the grapes are from a vine in the garden of the Robin Hood pub which backs on to the church garden. Clare bought a jar of the grape jelly. Now we have to decide which cheese meat or fish goes best with it.

We had cold cooked trout for lunch. Afterwards, I slept for an hour afterwards, then walked in Llandaff Fields until tea time. The sky was clouding over and the air cooler, but it will be several days more before there's any prospect of the drought ending. Soldiers are supporting firefighters in bringing wildfires under control in 14 places across Wales. There was a huge wildfire in Stourbridge yesterday destroying several homes. Our friends Alan and Marin live there. I sent them a message of concern and had no reply. The phone line was busy when I called. I hope they're safe.

Another short walk after supper to clear my head. The setting sun turned small fluffy clouds a salmon pink colour. Then I joined Clare watching the BBC Proms concert tribute to Paul Simon's 'Graceland' album, forty years after it was released, starring the Ladysmith Black Mamabaza choir and a couple of singers I hadn't heard of before. I had the impression the tempo at which upbeat songs were taken was faster than my musical memory recalled. Is it a reflection of an ageing 'stroke brain' I wonder? A wonderful concert.

Tragedy on the Assumption

Overcast and muggy this morning. I slept fairly well and woke up in time for an interesting reflection on the Feast of the Assumption on 'Thought for the Day'. In passing, Catherine Pepinster spoke about Pope Pius XI issuing an encyclical in German in 1937 publicly criticising nazism and condemning the  Kristallnacht pogrom in 1938. His successor Pius XII chose not to be outspoken but reticent, perhaps to avoid full scale persecution of the church. He used Vatican diplomatic networks to facilitate the rescue of Jews from the nazis, and he passed intelligence to the Allies on German military plans, and plots to depose Hitler. Both men in different ways expressed abhorrence for anti-semitism, acknowledging that Jesus was born of a Jewish mother, honoured after her death as 'Queen of Heaven' among all the saints.

Today's news reported the death by suicide of Jason Arday a young black autistic Cambridge professor of Sociology whose story of emerging from a childhood with severe learning difficulties into a brilliant scholar made him a celebrity. He was then criticised for plagiarism by other scholars and investigated, leading him to resign his post and take his own life. He had been in contact with colleague and friend Sir Simon Baron-Cohen, director of the Autism Research Centre at Cambridge, who knew and understood his situation and offered him support, exchanging messages on WhatsApp just before he died. In an interview on the BBC 'Today' programme Sir Simon spoke of Jason's vulnerability and asked what measures were in effect for safeguarding a vulnerable autistic man. Hostile criticism on social media from fellow academics, amplified by an avalanche of press reports helped create an intolerable situation for him, ending in tragedy. 

Yet again, another high status trusted public institution has questions to answer about its safeguarding policies. It's not just the church that gets  it wrong and struggles to deal with issues of concern in a society where competitive success and status is valued more than collaboration, mutual support and compassion.

The sky cleared and the sun shone as we walked to the Secret Garden Cafe in Bute Park for lunch. I had a disappointing ham and salad sandwich in a large seeded bun whose dough was so rubbery I needed a knife and fork to cut it open, let alone bite into. Impossible to do without ejecting the salad content. And it was garnished with salad cream rather than mayonnaise!

Clare called at Jason's greengrocer's on our way home, I stopped outside to wait for her by the Hot Pantry Bakery. One of the shop workers was putting unsold fresh bread and custard slices on a table outside for passers-by to take for free, as the shop was closing. She noticed me standing waiting nearby and to my surprise offered me a loaf and a couple of custard slices in a box. An unexpected tea time treat!

I needed the exercise, but the medication made my head swim, and this made walking an effort. It felt like an out-of-body experience. I went to bed exhausted and slept for an hour when we got home. I watched some of the Mass of the Assumption live streamed from St David's Metropolitan Cathedral, having been unable to find the site and logging in late. The stream was jerky and slow, buffering a lot, perhaps due to high demand. After supper I walked around the block to get some fresh air in a vain effort to clear my head. Is it just the drugs, or did my last stressful experience of A&E impede my stroke recovery in some unconsidered way?

Appreciation

A thin layer of high cloud to start the day with, warm and muggy, but not as hot as yesterday. A good night's sleep, nearly eight hours, though I still felt sleepy after breakfast due to the meds taking effect. When I woke up this morning I found myself remembering and appreciating people in times past. After breakfast I wrote an email to my friend Valdo in Aigle Switzerland. We met in Geneva thirty three years ago when he was pastor of the Parish of Bossey and Chaplain to the WCC's Ecumenical Institute. We visited Taize together skied in the Jura together, and shared an enthusiasm for tech' innovation. I felt that I wanted to thank him for being a good friend, interpreting Swiss protestant society and culture for me as we made our home in a world so different and yet so similar to mine. Although our church communities were so different pastoral life and being a pastor give us far more in common than I realised.

A thick envelope arrived from British Gas Home Care this morning with information about the services it alleges we signed up for when our fridge went through a temperature crisis last month. Clare had a talk with a tele-salesman enquiring about the service and wasn't aware of engaging in a contract as a result of the call, but it was a morning of confusion and misunderstandings with no opportunity to review the process. We unintentionally committed to a monthly direct debit of £30.35 to pay for household equipment maintenance which we don't need and are reluctant to afford. I don't know how this could happen without authorization and am very bothered about it, however well intentioned it aims to be for older people. It presumes to add this amount to our monthly gas bill, which debits our account for a similar sum for energy. Clare called British Gas Home Care and cancelled the contract, and was charged a cancellation fee of over thirty quid.

I cooked savoury chick peas and rice for our lunch. Whan I was rsting afterwards I had a phone reminder to collect my next batch of medication from the pharmacy. Then we went into town to visit Santander Bank to cancel the direct debit, but were told that the first direct debit has to go through before the cancellation can take effect, so we have to return to the bank later and check with the bank at the end of the month that the direct debit has been cancelled. I failed to grasp the nature of what is in effect an extra household 'insurance'. Drug induced slow down of my mental faculties makes it much more difficult to retain complex detail and stay in control of my affairs. Fortunately this hasn't happened to Clare, apart from memory loss. It's distressing in any case.

Before returning home, we had a drink in the John Lewis top floor cafe, where I reminisced about the days when the city centre was redeveloped and I attended the topping out and opening ceremonies for the building in which sipped our drinks. What a privilege it was to be a pastor in the city centre and witness the transformation of the heart of the city between 2006 and 2009!

We had a call from Rachel telling us about the new apartment in Cornville she's about to move into, sending us photos and a little video of her home to be. The landscape is greener, not arid, and it's cooler. While we chatted, a fire alert sounded on our phones, intervening in the call. The message was first issued in Welsh and rendered into digital speech pronounced in the most horrible anglicised Welsh. An utter disgrace. I hope there's a torrent of complaints from the public. It was as bad as satnav Welsh. No excuse for this. Or is it revealing the limits of what AI can do in the real world?

After supper, as the sun was setting, I walked up and down Llandaff Fields, appreciating the cooling breeze. Then we watched an interesting episode of 'Fake or Fortune' about authenticating two paintings by Gainsborough before getting ready for bed.

Staying out of the heat

I must have been tired last night as I forgot to switch my phone off at bed time. At three in the morning a call came in from Rachel who accidentally 'pocket dialled' me, into a conference call while talking to a third party. I got up after listening to Lucy Winkett on 'Thought for the Day' mediating on the solar eclipse and went to the pharmacy after breakfast to renew my prescription, which I should have done yesterday, but was distracted from doing so by my GP appointment. The amount of time it takes to process a request put me at risk of running out of meds the doctor insists are obligatory and life saving, despite the awful effect they have on me. Fortunately the pharmacist, knowing the vital one is in stock fast tracked the order, so I'll get them tomorrow afternoon.

It's another hot day today under a clear sky. It was about 27C when I walked to the pharmacy, 30C by the time I got home even higher later. The drought continues and with it the prospect of more wildfires. 

Fran and Marc came around for a wide ranging discussion about a presentation she's preparing about the meaning of the symbolism in the icon of the Holy Trinity. Marc will accompany her reflections with meditative violin music. It's something they've done before successfully with other icons. It is perhaps the most challenging one so far. It starts by focusing on the symbolism of the icon of 'the Hospitality of Abraham' and its mystical significance. How this works out will be interesting to see. After an hour and a half of talking I was pretty tired and slept for nearly two hours after a quick pasta lunch prepared by Clare.

As I've stopped preparing Morning Prayer videos, I've not used either of my Windows laptops for sound or video editing for several weeks, and thought I should run them to let Windows update itself. I started the Honor laptop when I sat down to listen to the Five O'clock news, and was astonished to find the updating process took an hour and a half. Perhaps it's more noticeable if updating occurs in the background while you're working. I'll have to time the updating of the Dell laptop when I next get around to switching it on.

I walked a circuit of Llandaff Fields for an hour after supper when the sun was going down and a cooling breeze was blowing. I had little energy to do anything more, it was time for early bed

Eclipse missed - just

A poor night's sleep awakened at first light by my irritated gut. I called the surgery at eight and got a face to face appointment at eleven forty. It meant I could go to church beforehand. Another hot day without rain, pushing back against drowsiness to get to St Catherine's for the Eucharist with a dozen others. In the absence of Fr Sion it was celebrated by Mthr Alison Dummer, Cathedral Curate and former URC minister, like her husband Mark, who was with her in the congregation. We chatted after the service, mainly about medication. Mark has heart problems and had to retire early some years ago on that account. Inevitably ailments are one of the main topics of conversation among older people.

My GP appointment was with Dr Jordan to whom I explained my medication woes. It would have been a lot more precise if I'd remembered to take with me the notes I prepared. Anyway, she's initiating a medication review, to see whether a lower dosage or a different version would have less of an impairing impact on my quality of life.  I called in the Coop after coffee and chat, to buy kefir but there was none in stock. After a podiatry appointment, Clare was already back home cooking lunch when I arrived. She went to town afterwards, and I slept in my armchair for nearly an hour. I could have done with more.

I had a phone call from fellow stroke sufferer Kath, a school friend of our Kath. She had a disabling stroke in her forties limiting her mobility, but lives independently and adventurously, with humour and great positivity. It was good to hear from her and chat about the challenges confronting us. as we attempt to live as normal a life as possible regardless of disability. I escaped the worst effects of a stroke and made what the medics regard as 'an excellent recovery' the one concern I have is the impact of medication side effects that really impair my quality of life. I've adjusted to a slower pace of life, the limitations of travel and to some extent the amount of stimulus I can tolerate without being overwhelmed. I need to regain confidence in handling my financial affairs. This is related to my ability to concentrate and pay attention to detail. This is where I need patience and reduction of anxiety. I need to overcome my fear of making mistakes. It could simply be a matter of getting used to a familiar set of routines again to re-establish confidence. I'm not under pressure. I hope time will heal.

The solar eclipse arrived at tea time. I got glimpses of it using the black end of strip of film negative, but didn't have the means to take photos. I watched the moon move into the sun's disc, then went indoors to eat some cold chicken for supper. When I went out to look again the sun was already at the rooftops and the moon was exiting the sun's disc, so we missed the eclipse climax entirely. And all my photos were over exposed, hardly worth keeping. How disappointing. Owain sent me a good photo he took with his phone using his eclipse glasses to filter out the sun's glare.

I've done a lot of intense talking today, so early bed is a necessity.

St Clare's day shooting stars

Another bright sunny day with a clear sky. It's Clare's name day today - St Clare of Assisi.

Wales and regions of England are declaring a state of drought, there's been so little rain for so long. There have been record high temperatures in addition, and the rate at which the climate is heating up is increasing. The human race is reaping the reward of its own foolishness and greed now. Egotistical warmongers continue to push people and nations into fighting each other with no regard for the immense battle for survival of the very environment which we rely on for our existence.

 I slept fairly well and unusually the morning medications didn't make me feel very drowsy or slow, just clear headed. I had a GP surgery appointment for a blood test which I thought was at ten but turned out to be at eleven. I thought the blood test was followed by an appointment with a doctor, but something went wrong. It was alleged that I had missed the appointment, but that's not what my diary said. I was offered a telephone consultation at an unspecified time later in the day. I went home and had a coffee, then returned for the blood test. The nurse couldn't draw blood from either arm, probably as a result of the heat, even though I'd taken the trouble to drink plenty of water beforehand. 

She found however, that my blood pressure was normal, despite a brisk walk to get there punctually a second time. I don't know why surgery admin doesn't send an SMS message to confirm an appointment booking, as it would reduce the possibility of communication errors. The day passed with no call from the doctor. Did the receptionist say that I should call for a telephone appointment? Did I miss that? When someone is behind a screen speaking fast and indistinctly with a high pitched voice I may miss words. The drugs don't help, still slowing down my thought processes when I start to get tired.

Rachel posted her collection of pictures from our anniversary dinner on WhatsApp. I shared the text of my anniversary eulogy with the family. Clare cooked swordfish steaks for lunch, with blackberry crumble left over from the weekend for pudding. No wonder I slept in my armchair afterwards. Then I went to Tesco's and bought chicken pieces to cook. I haven't had any meat in my diet for a while, and thought the change would do me good.

After supper, I watched an episode of 'Gavin and Stacey, with Clare, then a short walk for some fresh air. Before going up to bed, I sat outside in the garden looking up at the sky, hoping for a chance encounter with one of the thousands of Perseid meteorites that are due to reveal themselves this evening. A high level layer of thin cloud or maybe mist robbed the sky of clarity with only a handful of bright stars visible. It was cool and quiet, but I saw nothing more than the few fixed lights of far off heavenly bodies. My memory of lying on my back watching under a dark sky in a field in Picardy fifty years ago is still vivid. It will have to do.

Parting of the ways

Another terrible night's sleep for me. I took a bed blocker in the small hours to dim the adrenaline effect on my heartbeat. Not that it made much difference to the way I feel after medication. Rachel left us for the coach station at five to eight. Clare went with her. I wasn't in a fit state so early after a bad night. 

Talyann and Rhiannon were next to leave for Manchester. Then Kath encouraged me to set up a Lasting Power of Attorney mandate, which I paid for, downloaded and printed. Two of them, Twenty two pages each. Our next door neighbour Gwydion came in and witnessed the signatures, a complex routine masterminded by Kath who possesses advanced bureaucratic skills gained from her Arts admin experience. Then Kath and Anto started their journey to Kenilworth, giving Owain a lift as far as Central station. 

Then suddenly, the house was quiet, with just Clare and I remaining to ponder on our memories of a lovely family weekend, full of laughter, good food and story telling. Lack of sleep and the toxic effect of the medication impaired the whole experience for me, slowing my reactions, isolating me, pushing me into myself when I struggled to be outgoing and responsive to this unique occasion in our long life together. After lunch I downloaded the rest of the photos I took, and shared the album with the others. By the time I went to the Co-op for bananas and yoghurt mid afternoon, my head began to clear, which was a relief. I went out again after supper and walked for half an hour as the sun was setting. I don't know what I ate that gave me the most terrible wind and mild nausea, but it discouraged me from walking further. I had difficulty swallowing a slow release capsule after eating. I wonder if it broke open early in my stomach and its content reacted with food yet to be digested. It was most unpleasant. I hate these capsules, which give me hiccups, wind, reflux and diharrea. They kill off gut flora too and I need to eat live yoghurt a couple of times a day to prevent palpitations and headache. The medication is aggressive and too strong, or is the dosage too high. I'm seeing the GP tomorrow and will report all this. I'm hoping for a better night's sleep tonight - gut permitting.

Anniversary lunch

Clare and I shared the double bed last night to make room for guests. I went to bed tired and lost nearly three hour's sleep. This made the impact of the medications even worse than usual. Before going to church I had to walk to Tesco's to withdraw cash to have money to put on the collection plate. It was an effort given how tired I was feeling, and it took a long time for my pulse to settle down once I stopped moving. I went straight home after the service, and attempted to catch up on sleep in my armchair. It didn't help much, and the rest of the day was a struggle against drowsiness.

Rhiannon and Talyann arrived from Manchester at one, then we took a taxi to Church Street in the city centre to a restaurant called 'The Botanist' where Kath and Anto were waiting for us in a rooftop bar. A private dining area was booked for the eight of us in one corner of the top floor restaurant where we had an excellent long lunch, long partly because the service was slow.  It was a struggle to concentrate with the noise of several exuberant conversations going on. It was lovely to be with the family, but I was a passive rather than active participant in table talk.

Rachel reminded us that she returns to America tomorrow. The thought of this really upset me and I had to walk out rather than disrupt the meal ending for others. Rachel and I walked home together, and we were reunited with the rest of the family for celebratory chocolate cake with dark cherries and soya cream with a cup of tea sitting in the garden. I recited a Wedding Anniversary eulogy I'd written for the occasion. It was too noisy in the restaurant, but the intimate space of Clare's garden seemed just right in the end. We sat outside until it was uncomfortably cool, then moved indoors for a snack supper and a little music making before turning in for the night after a very special family day, for which I'll be eternally grateful.