More Mowing and Oncology Appointment

Another really warm and sunny day. I've done a bit more of the mowing of the grass, but there's still a bit more to do. The grass is exceptionally long and somewhat wet and the mower really moaned. Who can blame it? It's designed to cut nice, neat grass, not grass you would ordinarily find in a meadow and eaten by cattle. The machine is still sitting on the grass, waiting for me to complete the job. At the moment it's really far too hot. Not a good idea if you have a heart problem as I do. I have used my G.T.N. spray to alleviate any angina attacks, which is always possible if I'm exerting myself, which is definitely the case pushing the Flymo back and forth across the garden. I shall continue the job when it's a little cooler, which makes sense.

Carol had an oncology appointment with one of the consultants at 11 this morning (Friday). As it's been so warm and sunny it seemed a good idea to walk to the hospital. After all we only live around 10 minutes away. So we set of at around 10.30 and got there, having walked along the Redway and then into the hospital campus. Carol insisted we scramble up a slope which lead into the carpark behind the cardiology department. I had to climb it first and I helped her over the hump. On arrival in the Macmillan Unit it was exceptionally busy. Nowhere for us to sit together at first. As people went in for their appointments, this left vacant chairs, so we were able move around and to sit together. All a bit like a game of musical chairs. When the music stops . . .

Overhearing people's conversations. Well, it's just impossible to not hear. One old man, he must have been in his late 80's, if not older. Sounding a bit like Jones the butcher in 'Dad's Army,' who kept going on about his time in the desert during the First World War. This old man had been 'in the desert, in North Africa.' He'd been a chemist, so he knew a lot about the various chemicals they were using for his chemotherapy. He'd also worked in a paper-mill or somewhere and they'd used his skills.  Rather like being in the midst of an Alan Bennet play. He did go on and on. Got the other waiting people smiling. He did go on, though. But then he was called in for his appointment.

One of the volunteer men came round collecting mugs. Then he asked people if they would like tea. I didn't, but Carol did. By the time Carol was called in for her appointment at 11.20, he was coming around with a tray of tea, so Carol took her's into the consultants appointment. The surgeons have yet to see the results of the last M.R.I. scan from Wednesday afternoon, but they have discussed Carol's treatment. It looks likely that she will go to Oxford for radiotherapy on part of the cancer whilst the rest will be operated on in Milton Keynes and it's likely to be within the next four weeks or so. So everything is very positive. The warm weather definitely helping and the fact that we walked and didn't have the stress of driving and having to park the car.

On the way out of the unit we bumped into the cancer nurse we had been assigned when Carol was first diagnosed, and whom we haven't seen in quite a while. She said she didn't recognise Carol, as she is looking so much better. The fact that we've been out and about, that she is walking further and further is probably one reason.

So, a really pleasant walk back home, going through the hospital campus and back along the Redway.

We had a grocery delivery during the afternoon from Sainsbury's. It was easier to order on-line and have it delivered. We'd booked it to come between 3 and 4. It was efficiently done and saves so much bother of going to the store and trudging around picking up everything ourselves. It's great to let someone else do the work for us, and you don't end up buying stuff you don't need. As the site 'saves' your list of items, it's easier next time to do your shop faster.

I did a further bit of mowing, but there's still another section to do, mostly around the edges. I refuse to describe this scrappy bit of grass a 'lawn.' It no more resembles one, it may be grass, but not a neat and tidy piece of turf. Perhaps we should tear it up and have some artificial grass as someone has obviously had a bit further down our road. Oh, gracious! It would save time and effort, but I don't think our landlord would approve.

Grass cutting and Trip To Bell Plantation

With the warm weather, the subject of grass cutting comes to the fore. Not just warm weather, but with a couple of months of rain the length of the grass has become quite long. Not my favourite occupation, as you will be aware if you read any of my earlier blog posts. It's a question of dragging the machine out of the shed, untangling the lead and then uncoiling the electric cable from the house and then setting-too with the machine. I don't think a Flymo is designed to cut grass which would easily satisfy a herd of cattle, sheep, or other unguates. The machine is intended, I would imagine, for those lawns of householders who have immaculate turfed lawns. A gentle stroll pushing the Flymo every weekend, to a length not above a few centimetres. But our patch of tusky grass is enough to loose a herd of bison on the African savannahs. I didn't intend spending too long on the grass-cutting job. I would spend the barest minimum of time and then come back later in the day to do a bit more, probably over three shifts. Because of it's length it is quite damp, which makes the job even more difficult. I have managed about a quarter of the area and will continue in the morning. It must be done as it's so dry and sunny, otherwise it will be virtually impossible to get the machine to work efficiently.

Carol is beginning to become stir-crazy. With the sun shining brightly there was an absolute must to escape from the confines of the house. I suggested somewhere which is up Watling Street and just beyond Towcester, a garden centre called Bell Plantation. There is quite a lot to see and do there together with a rather pleasant restaurant. We've enjoyed driving along Watling Street as an alternative to the M1 which it seems is permanently affected by road works, meaning vast length of motorway coned off and having to drive at 50 m.p.h. Hence our journey being rerouted along Watling Street, which has far more pleasant views of the surrounding countryside as well as being dotted with some really pleasant stopping places such as garden centres where there are plenty of restaurants to eat and drink in. A real alternative to the rather boring motorway service areas.

On arrival at Bell Plantation we noticed that the carpark had been resurfaced with tarmac. We'd visited well over a year ago. They have done some considerable improvements to the site since our last visit. We had a browse in one or two of the small shops, some selling antiques and other nick-naks. We  ventured into the restaurant, which we have  been  to on a couple of previous occasions.    We ordered hot chocolate and two pieces of rather delicious cake, Carol had Victoria sponge with raspberry jam and butter icing filling and I had chocolate fudge cake. We shared each other's cake. Well worth the journey up Watling Street for this delight. We then had a browse around the garden centre and Carol was determined to buy a wind-blown garden ornament as we'd seen a few in another garden centre, probably Frost's at Woburn Sands. We also needed milk and vegetables for our evening meal and we then left to return south on Watling Street.

Alfie had to have a return visit to the vet's at Oakgrove at 2 o'clock. We were more wary of the roadworks along Chaffron Way, so we decided to go via Standing Way and then cut across Brickhill Street and arrived in Waitrose's carpark with 15 minutes to spare, and the we took Alfie straight into be seen by he vet. The antibiotics seem to be working, but she managed to get some more of the built-up mess off his face with some damp cotton wool. We have to take him back for a further consultation on Monday afternoon, but will continue with the antibiotics until the course of tablets is complete.

Alfie seemed to prefer sitting on my knee as we drove there and back. On Monday I drove, with Carol holding onto him, but he was eager to sit on my lap as I drove which was totally impossible. He was very much more quiet and I held on to the harness he had on. 

Lawn-mowing

The sun is out. Infact it is positively a heatwave. Just don't hold your breath. It may last. The trees are busily leafing like crazy, and blossom is opening rapidly. There are primroses all along the grid roads around Milton Keynes. A veritable hive of activity. The grass in our back garden is growing to such an extent that both dogs are getting lost in the lushness. So it's about time I got out the mower. Which I did early this morning. Hunt for the power cable, plug it in and unwind said cable into garden. Open garden shed and dig out mower. Attach cable to cable and begin to mow. The grass is slightly wet, which might have been a good reason to not mow. Unfortunately the machine grinds to a halt after barely five minutes. Strange noise emanating from beneath machine. Unplug mower and turn over on grass, to discover that one of the little plastic blades has broken off. Not surprising owing to length of grass and the fact that the mower isn't really designed to cut such long grass. More capable of cutting neatly-turfed lawns and not this horrible uneven, tusky grass. Methinks perhaps a herd of sheep or goats might be the answer. I spend a half-hour or so hunting around in the kitchen and other places to see if we have any spare blades. We had a packet with the machine when we bought it but where they are now is a complete mystery. I write down the machine number, a Flymo and decide to head off to the local branch of Homebase to purchase the requisite packet of blades so that I can resume grass-cutting. On arrival at Homebase in Winterhill I find plenty of Flymo mowers but no spare blades. After asking a member of staff where I might find the blades, we still are no closer to locating the required items. It seems you can buy a Flymo mower but when you need the blades they don't appear to have them. I leave, somewhat frustrated by lack of purchase and then go over the road to The Range. The same story there: they have the machines for sale but no blades. This seems quite incredible. I then go further along the road to Wickes but it appears that they don't sell mowers so I return home empty-handed but none the wiser as to where I might be able to obtain the mower blades.

A little while later . . . I have had a good look for the spare mower blades and sure enough I found some in the kitchen drawer. So I managed to attach to the mower and got the machine working again so I have managed to cut around a quarter of the grass. I will be doing a bit each day as it's really hard work as the grass is so long and still a little damp, which isn't surprising due to it's length, even though the sun is out and shining brightly and there's a gentle breeze.

Mowing The Lawn And Other Gardening Events Of Importance

We spent this morning mowing the lawns, back and front, with our new Flymo lawn mower. Carol did some and so did I. It's surprisingly easy, considering that the lawn (for want of a better description) is so awful. It's such a rough bit of ground with more ups and downs than the Scottish Highlands, and a really tusky kit of old grass that would need a sythe to cut it if it were left much longer.) The bit of grass is easier to cut as the ground is flatter. We have tried our best to block some holes in the fence as it is in desperate need of repair. Alfie nearly got out through a hole in the gate and I managed to haul him back the other day, and have now managed to bring in the pallet from the front garden which had the IKEA catalogues delivered on it and had been parked there from when I distributed them around the estate. We broke up the old table which was in the house and used bits of that to patch up another area of the fence, and, in general, the garden is looking a good deal better. The landlord is really responsible for all this, but we're having enough problems regarding the cooker without mentioning the fence.

The landlord is now arguing about the oven. The agency rang on Friday and they have apparently got hold of the man. By the neck, would be the best thing, as far as we're concerned. Now arguing about whether the oven should be replaced or repaired, and saying it shouldn't need replacing as it was new 18 months ago. It's just not up to the job, if the truth be known. It was cheap, which is half of the problem. It has rusted badly, and then, to cap it all, it has exploded on two occasions, as I have mentioned elsewhere, without it even being switched on. The last time was a few days ago, when I was cleaning it. Not nice. Frankly, very dangerous. I will post more on this as things develop.