The House Husband

This morning, I decided to put a load of washing on before I went shopping. I filled the basket up from the bedroom with a black load and was about to put it in the machine when I realised I’d forgotten something. I put the basket down and went back upstairs to retrieve my trackies. Upon my return, greeting me with a mischievous grin was Carmen, all curled up and snugly in the basket, soaking in the human smells.

But I like it here!

I can’t remember her ever doing this before (although, Day-z can often be found curled up in a pile of dirty washing if it’s left in a pile on the floor) and wonder if she’s somehow telling me not to wash our clothes because she prefers them smelly.

I asked her if she wanted to get out now but her only reply was to lay her head down and feign sleep. She moved pretty quickly when I picked the basket up and leapt out looking a bit upset.

I suddenly realise that I haven’t mentioned Dawn’s marmalade. She posted a blip the other day and, in her comment, mentioned she’d been making some. She’s not exactly what you’d call a country kitchen, Kirstie Allsop, WI, jam making type so it came as a bit of a surprise. My comment in reply was that I hoped I’d get to taste it.

On Thursday she handed me a jar with the warning that it was too thick. I told her it was probably in her imagination because it looked fine. I can confirm that she’s mad. Thick? It was perfect! Not too sweet, nice and orange-y, tangy in the right way, perfectly spreadable. I’m not a big marmalade (or jam for that matter) fan but it sure tasted good on my toast.

I think she should add a secret ingredient and call it Dawn-alade.

Ignoring the dire weather warnings from the BBC (we have been on an amber alert since last night; not that I know what that means after all, on the roads it means make sure there’s no pedestrians and proceed as if green) I caught the train into town to visit with the patient at the quarantine hut. It was very clear first thing this morning, looking like anything but snow but as I left home, the clouds, with big bulbous bits of grey had appeared.

The trip across town was, remarkably effortless. Generally, the Jubilee Line is not my friend on weekends but it was running a good service today and I hopped on a tube train almost immediately. Strangely, I can’t say the same for Starbucks. Very unusually, they took an age to get the coffees out. It could have been because one of the staff was a trainee.

At the flat I was very glad to see a much improved Mirinda. She claims it’s a combination of a vast collection of drugs, not leaving the flat for four days and the absence of stairs. Unlike home, if she wants to move from bedroom to lounge, it’s just through a door. At home she’d have to climb up and down the stairs.
Whatever the cause, she is a lot better and should reach her goal of returning to work on Monday. Of course, the other reason for her improvement could be the ingesting of ice cream and cup cakes, a universal cure if ever I heard one.

While I visited, we watched a wonderful film called The Chorus. Susanne recommended it to Mirinda years ago and we’ve only just got around to watching it. It’s a lovely French film that we thoroughly recommend to anyone who loves a story about ordinary people making a difference against the odds. It is beautiful. The music and singing is haunting. And the acting is superb. How they manage to get such brilliant performances out of little kids, I’ll never know. I always remember the youngsters Mirinda tried to teach in the mountains. They hid any talent for performance well away from any public scrutiny.

It was nominated for the Best Foreign Language film at the Oscars and I’m amazed it didn’t win. The one that did was a Spanish film called The Sea Inside which I’ve never heard of. It’s the true story of a guy fighting for 30 years in favour of euthanasia and his own right to die. Doesn’t sound very entertaining if you ask me. I prefer The Chorus.

Anyway, all good things must come to an end, even visiting hours, so I was all too soon on my way back home. The weather had turned even colder. Mirinda stepped out on the (steel) balcony in her bare feet and instantly regretted it. Fortunately I wore my big Russian great coat so was snugly and warm.

Coming out of the Jubilee Line at Waterloo, I walked by the big entrance and it was snowing. Very lightly and without much effort, but it could have been a portent. A big electronic sign in the main station proclaimed that all was well but if the weather was to deteriorate, things could get bad. That’s like saying, if you stand under running water, you’ll get wet! A stupid sign if ever I saw one. I texted Mirinda to let her know and missed a wonderful cultural reference she made.

As is normal in England, the train was very toasty. What’s not normal is that it was announced 20 minutes before it was due to leave so I didn’t have to stand around on the breezy concourse for very long.

During the trip home, Mirinda sent me a text to say the snow had started at Canary Wharf. By the time I reached Farnham, the snow was starting to settle. I knew I’d timed it right. Any later and I think this post may have had a different ending.

Walking across the railway crossing was a slippery affair so I decided to get a taxi home. This turned out to be a very good idea as our street was covered in snow, forcing the taxi driver to slow right down. I almost slipped over just walking across our drive. It would have been an awful walk home.

Of course the poodles were outside and covered in snow.

Our street, just before I went to bed

It was -5 in our garden this morning when I woke up. It was pretty bad in my head as well. I am feeling awful. While talking to mum and dad on the phone this morning, my voice gradually started to disappear.

Apart from going up to the park for a walk, I have done little more than snooze, drink Lemsip and take Sudafed. And I’m wrapped up.

I did manage to take a few photos in the park. Here’s a few.

I love the way the birds in the park send out a warning as I approach. This little fellow was clearly telling everyone there was a human and two small dogs very close by.

Watch out! Human about!

I’m not sure what this is (Mirinda?) but he’s clearly been feeding in our garden. He looks exceedingly well nourished.

Now, where shall I eat today?

And here’s a nice shot of Carmen in her coat. Following yesterday’s FSI, coats were mandatory today.

Boy, this walking is hard graft

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And I should have said that the blue stuff (yesterday) is for squeezing.

We’ve had a bit of rain over the last few days. A little while ago, this would have meant the dining room floor having a thick layer of mud on top of the wood. This was partly from my wellies but mostly due to the paws of the poodles.

The fur at the end of their feet acts like a mop, absorbing and then redistributing. They go outside, wander around and then bring the garden into the house.

Most of the time I manage to wipe them dry before they enter the rest of the house but the dining room always cops it. And I haven’t mentioned the muddy footprints across the kitchen tiles.

However, everything has changed with the path. Oh, glorious path. What a difference! Ok, there’s still a bit of water but nothing like the old pre-path days. Mind you, Carmen has only three feet to work with at the moment so you’d expect it to be a lot less than normal anyway.

Speaking of Carmen, she has started using her leg a bit (though not when we go for our little walks up the path), gradually putting more weight on it. I have to be quite alert because she races up and down the stairs if I’m not.

Her stitches seem to have done their job well as her wound quickly heals and she doesn’t appear to be suffering any pain although I think she’ll still gets a bit uncomfortable every now and then. She particularly doesn’t like it when Day-z bites the leg.

It hasn’t rained all day. This morning I managed to finally get some photographs of a nuthatch – Dawn’s favourite bird (apparently). They normally fly in, grab some food and then flash away again, leaving me with nothing but an image of the feed tray. This one, however, decided to stuff his face with as much food as possible.

Little beak, many seeds

He really is a lovely little chap, though I think he looks a bit like a badger, with that black stripe across his face. Or maybe an old fashioned burglar.

Hiding behind a chain

We also had another visit from the starlings. I’ve never really noticed how beautiful they are.

Starling

Speaking of visits, I had an unexpected one from Nicktor this evening. He was on his way from his new work to a Christmas ‘do’ at his old place of work and suggested ‘popping in for a cup of tea’. Which is exactly what he did. I haven’t seen him for ages so it was a great treat. Hopefully next week we’ll be able to have a Nicktor Night.

Rather than staying the house all day watching Carmen, I put her bucket on her head and went up to Farnham for a Starbucks. I’m really not made for being housebound.

The highlight of my Starbucks visit was when the barista told me about the stray King Charles spaniel that was in his house last night.

He lives at home and, last night his sister came excitedly into his room and told him there was a strange dog in the house. They’re the proud owners of a couple of shih tzus so they’re doggie people anyway but this was a great treat.

Apparently their neighbours had turned up with it, saying it had strayed into their garden and they’d been trying to contact the owner without success. They had to go out and wondered, given they had dogs anyway that one more wouldn’t be a problem.

According to the barista, they had a great night with the King Charles. All good things, though, must come to an end. They finally managed to con tact the owner who picked it up this morning, obviously deliriously happy.

That’s it. Just a nice lost dog story.

Our dog is progressing far too well. It’s a constant battle to stop her jumping on the furniture, especially when Day-z has a bark out the front window. Carmen always has to add her (slightly deeper) bark to the mix. And, of course, she can’t do it from the lounge.

It’s almost comical seeing her stand on her wobbly legs, trying to balance enough to launch herself through the air. Fortunately the slight delay gives me time to stop her.

She is getting better. Her scar is very slight, with only the stitches giving any clear indication there’s anything wrong. Well, if you ignore the big shaved area.

Carmen's stitches

This morning I fed the birds then set the camera up in the kitchen, hoping for some action on the seed tubes. I wasn’t disappointed.

Now clear off!

The green finches are quite aggressive, pushing any other birds off and threatening them with GBH.

We also had visit from a local gang of house sparrows who stopped their eating for a brief dip in the bird bath. For a while, one would stand guard on the rim while the other splashed around in the water. But then it was all too enjoyable and they were soon both in the water.

Sparrows in the bird bath

We had quite a lot of sun and blue sky today. After the wind blew away the clouds, anyway. The light was great for getting shots of the birds, including this lovely great tit.

Great tit on guard duty

I have quite a cunning plan for my bird shots tomorrow so, fingers crossed for more sun and more bird species.

This morning was Carmen’s first post-op appointment with the vet. As Mirinda is staying in town this weekend, I had to think how to transport Carmen. After carrying her home last time and realising what a heavy lump she is, I decided this wasn’t for me. Mirinda suggested a taxi for the trip of two blocks but I opted for a wheelbarrow.

So, at about 8:30, I wrestled the barrow through the house (there wasn’t room to go around Sidney) and settled it by the front door. I grabbed Carmen’s blanket from her basket (realising it seriously needed a wash) and made a lovely little nest, covering the rusty bits.

Day-z stood in the doorway wondering what was going on. I patted her head quizzically as I went back into the house to get their leads. Day-z changed instantly as I reached for the leads.

Successfully attached to their leads, I picked up the patient and carefully placed her in the middle of the barrow. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes. Day-z stood to one side totally confused. This had never happened before.

That’s not exactly true. I’ve tried to wheel them around the garden before but they always jump out almost instantly. Perhaps Day-z was confused because Carmen stayed put.

I then took the handles of the barrow and slowly made my way up the street, a petrified Carmen not filling me with confidence.

It’s not the easiest thing the world to push a wheelbarrow full of Carmen, with my recovering broken wrist and a confused Day-z trying her best to wind her lead around my legs.

We had some well meant commiserations wished us by a couple of separate dog walkers as if we were the very essence of normalcy. All the way to (and from) the vet, no-one stared, laughed or yelled stupid things at us. It was vaguely disappointing.

I parked up at the vet and carried her into reception where we sat and waited. In short, the vet was very happy with Carmen’s progress and she is now booked in to have her stitches out Monday week. Until then, I am to take her for five minute walks up and down the path, getting her to start using the leg.

I told her about Carmen biting off her bandage and that she’d need a bucket for her head, which she organised for me. I think she looks quite Tudor-esque.

A real Tudor poodle

The vet was very happy we have a path, rather than a muddy track. I told her it was an amazing path; a beautiful path. Which reminds me, as Mirinda commented yesterday, the plumber asked if he could walk up and down the path while waiting for his cement to dry. He loved it. And why wouldn’t he? It’s a magical path…after all.

Speaking of yesterday’s marathon post…I woke up with aching left hand fingers today. The reason was I’d not realised but my left hand had decided to start typing, pushing my right hand away from its side of the keyboard. Obviously they’d over worked themselves.

Meanwhile, back at the wheelbarrow…The trip back was, sadly, as uneventful as the trip there and we were soon home.

After lifting Carmen out and settling her on the lounge, I put her blanket in the ashing machine. The washing machine was so disgusted it threw the blanket back out. It took a lot of coaxing to get it to take it but take it, it did.

The rest of the day was basically giving Carmen five minute walks up and down the path in between moments of medication…hers, not mine.

I did turn a corner tonight with regards to my broken wrist. I actually prepared a meal. My salmon with avocado crust. It turned out perfectly. I feel a great surge of accomplishment.

Of course, there was a point during the day that the three of us sat at the back door waiting for birds. There were many blue tits and gold finches, flashing in and out, grabbing seeds, dropping seeds but this one was my favourite.

He came in on too low a trajectory and almost came a-cropper, his claws just managing to grab the perch. I managed to catch him just before he stood upright.

Nearly missed

I should confess to my wife that I used the RSPCA bird identification site to work out what Mrs Chaffinch was. I went through quite a few birds before I reached the correct one. I was tempted to say it was a dunnock…

Carmen has now started to walk around. Actually that’s not entirely true. ‘Walk’ is an exaggeration. She sort of wobbles while making little, jiggly hops. She looks very sad but hopeful.

Carmen gives me the sad eye

Of course, this means I have to be on guard for her sudden appearance just to make sure she’s not trying to jump or run. Jumping is pretty impossible but it wouldn’t stop her. She keeps staring at the dining chair she normally sits on, her one back leg twitching, preparing for the leap but can’t quite manage to get any further.

The trouble is, she spends most of the time lying on the lounge (or upstairs on the bed) and, to appear next to me in the kitchen means she’s jumped (or fallen) off wherever I plonked her. Jumping up or down needs to be avoided.

A new development today has been her managing to get the bandage off. I found her on the bed licking her wound with the bits of dressing littering the waffle blanket. I told her off and, of course, she gave me the sad look.

I found an unmatched sock, cut the toe off and managed to slip it over her leg. I couldn’t find any gaffer tape to secure it so it had to be electrical tape. Electrical tape is not very good. I have to keep my eye on her all the time. I’ve promised her a bucket for her head when we return to the vet tomorrow.

Being housebound isn’t exactly much fun but today it was broken by the arrival of the plumber. He’d returned to finish off the boiler (a small job) and pick up his pipe cutting tool. This was an interesting object that I couldn’t work out either what it was used for or how it was operated.

He picked it up and, with a small flick, had it open. He opened it wider and closed it down by clicking a hidden lever. He was very pleased to get it back. It is used to cut white ‘plastic’ pipes used in boiler installations…and anything else that needs white plastic pipes.

We chatted while he worked and he told me about a somewhat freaky customer he had last week. It made me glad I hadn’t chosen to be a plumber.

The problem was a faulty combi boiler and Mark (the plumber) turned up three minutes early for the appointment and knocked on the door. A tall, ramrod straight, six foot tall chap wearing a grey tracksuit that was two sizes too small and with an elaborate greasy, comb over, opened the door.

Mark told him who he was. The guy asked why Mark was late. Mark looked at his watch and, politely, said he was actually early.

The guy stood motionless, just staring. Eventually Mark asked him if he wanted him to fix his boiler because he’d have to come in to do so. The guy then asked him in.

Mark said this was only just the beginning. While he was working, the guy kept walking back and forth behind him, strangely kicking his feet out at the end of each length of the room, making odd clicky noises with his slippers.

After about ten minutes of this Mark turned around and went off at him, telling him to sit down or just stand in the corner.

The guy became all indignant, telling Mark that it was his house and he couldn’t tell him what to do. Mark conceded he had a point and apologised, asking him if he could just sit and watch.

At one stage there was a knock at the door and a milkman, going door to door, trying to drum up business, asked the guy if he’d like to order milk. The guy proudly stated he didn’t need to because he bought it at the shop. The milkman started telling him it would be more convenient but didn’t quite finish as the guy had slammed the door in his face.

Mark’s blood ran cold as he heard the guy lock the front door and slide home the three huge bolts, effectively locking him inside with this lunatic. Through a nearby window, he could see the milkman disappearing down the road. He desperately wanted to bang on the window and cry for help.

Now Mark isn’t a small guy but he said this guy freaked him out. At one point, Mark had the boiler cover off and bent over to grab a screwdriver and suddenly, out of nowhere, this guy appeared, trying to reach into the open box. Mark just grabbed him in time, saving him from a fatal electric shock.

The guy explained he was trying to help. Mark explained he’d have been dead if he’d touched any of the cables. Mark told me this would have probably been a good thing and saved him a lot of trouble.

Anyway, Mark couldn’t finish the job because he needed a small part so he told the guy he’d be back in the morning. He put the boiler back together and tidied up, telling the guy it might not be him returning. He finished by putting the boiler cover back on, securely.

The next morning he turned up to finish, what should have been a five minute job, to find the kitchen floor completely covered by the contents of this madman”s toolbox. Mark said it looked like the guy had been collecting bits and pieces in a giant toolbox for about 300 years and had just upended it. He had to use a broom to give him access to the boiler.

The guy had also removed the boiler cover for reasons known only to…well, no-one really.

Mark fixed the boiler with the new part, put the cover back on and almost ran out of the door. He vowed never to return – to me and Jenny in the office, I should add and not to the freak of a guy.

He also told me some rather nice things about Prague after I told him we were going for Christmas which lightened the conversation somewhat.

Other than that, I had to stand patiently in the middle of the garden for a while but I managed to get a few lovely shots of this chaffinch.

Mrs Chaffinch

Last night, Carmen was so morose that I decided we’d all sleep in the lounge. In order to protect the cushions, I opened up a few garbage bags to put under the dog blanket. I needn’t have bothered.

While she didn’t empty her bladder, she did shuffle around all night, in her discomfort, making crackly noises with ever movement. Which kept waking me up. It felt like I was back to the aching wrist insomnia of a few weeks ago.

Eventually (at 5:30am), I gave up trying and made a coffee. Apart from meaning I was exhausted, it meant I was awake when mum sent me her great news.

I’ve managed to clear most things this week so I can spend it with Carmen (stopping her running, jumping, gnawing at stitches) but was unable to find someone to swap my Talking Newspaper slot today.

Whenever someone rostered on is unable to make a particular date, it is up to that person to find someone to swap dates. I tried almost everyone but couldn’t find anyone. Short notice didn’t help.

So, exhausted and worried, I locked the dogs into the dining room/kitchen (after putting plenty of newspaper down on the floor and giving Day-z my well thumbed copy of the Emergency Nursing Bible) and set off. I then spent the rest of the morning worried about Carmen.

That’s probably why I made so many mistakes during the recording even though Paul, the engineer, very kindly said it was a good session.

I hurried home afterwards to find a bouncy Day-z and a confused and wobbly three legged Carmen. Again, I needn’t have bothered with the newspaper as it was simply used for play. Or shredding ready for recycling.

When I opened the back door, Carmen went straight out to the toilet. The first time since leaving the vet! She has a seriously amazing bladder. But the best news is she ate all her dinner tonight! She had nothing last night.

I wasn’t here to take many bird photos today but I did get this one while there was still some light left.

Birds playing peek-a-boo

First thing this morning I took Day-z for a walk up to the closest ATM in order to retrieve some funds, as I was running a bit low. I knew I’d be basically housebound once Carmen was home, so I figured this would be my only opportunity. Day-z didn’t complain.

Back at home I bribed her with a Dentastick and popped up to the ex-Londis for some necessary supplies. At this, Day-z did complain. She stood outside, behind the gate, and barked for the entire five minutes. I could hear her most of the way up and down the road. And Mirinda thought I’d be able to leave her on her own!

At 11am we went up to the vet to pick up Carmen. According to the vet, she’d been the perfect patient. This morning she’d woken up being quite “…chipper.” It must have taken it out of her because she’s been about as chipper as a sock for the rest of the day.

I was given all the instructions for her rehabilitation, paid a lot of money, booked her in for a post-op appointment on Saturday and then started for home. It took us a while.

Lifting and carrying a big lump weighing 10.4 kilos under one arm meant I had to have a rest a few times on the way back. I was very concious of causing her any discomfort as well.

For the rest of the day she didn’t moved from the lounge where I put her. Every now and then she lifted her head and looked at me with sadness.

Poor Carmey

Day-z hasn’t a clue what’s going on but has been very good at leaving Carmen alone. Mind you, she’s spent most of the day being asleep as well.

And here’s a great tit about to be attacked by a fake tit.

He's behind you!

There wasn’t a lot of action around the feeder today. Actually, there probably was but the fog made it difficult to see any action. I did manage a couple of shots though. To start with, here’s a cheeky blue tit.

Blue tit on feeder

So, first thing this morning (after Mirinda had left for work) we had a slow waddle down to the vet so Carmen could have her operation. She gave me a long, sad, backward glance as the nurse took her down the long corridor. Nothing like the wanton abandon she exhibits at the kennels.

Day-z, on the other hand, wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered and happily trotted back home with me where we discovered that someone had forgotten to take her indispensable little friend. (Most people call them iPhones.) I was about to text her when she texted me first. I told her to miss a train and I’d bring it up to the station.

Once more hitching Day-z up, I walked to the station. She was perfectly happy going for her second walk of the day until we reached the A31. The traffic started freaking her out so I had to pick her up for the last bit up the hill. She was also a bit freaked by all the people on the platform. It’s tough being so small. We waved goodbye to a now relieved Mirinda and walked home.

We passed a few people who asked where Carmen was. It appears that while I’m invisible, my poodles are not. Probably something to do with being cute.

In the afternoon we went for yet another walk. This time we took a long stroll around the park, stopping off at the totem pole for a short rest.

Getting a kiss

And then, finally, home.

Later in the afternoon we heard from the vet who operated on Carmen. All went well and she was just coming out of the anaesthetic. He told me the procedure he’d performed on her back leg and, quite frankly, it sounded horrendous but he assured me she would be fine. She has to be kept off it for a bit but should be right as rain in a relatively short time.

Normally when I sit at my desk, Day-z curls up behind me on the office chair – there’s just enough room for us both – but today, for some reason, she decided to hop up onto the desk and then lie on the window sill. She has never done this before. Maybe she was hoping to spot Carmen.

She was quite happy to lie there for a while until we had a sudden, very sharp shower of rain (which washed away a lot of the brick dust). The rain against the window made her jump up with fright.

It's raining!

Poor Day-z. It’s going to be a lonely old night for her so I’m going to let her sleep with me. Fingers crossed she doesn’t have any little ‘accidents’ in the night.

And, just to finish, here’s Mr Grumpy Gold-Finch giving me the eye.

Do you mind?

I managed to (accidentally) get a shot of a coal tit this morning. These tiny fellows dart in and out so quick, you don’t usually see them at all. He almost looks like he’s smiling.

Coal tit

When we went to Hankley on Saturday, Carmen hurt her leg. It wasn’t until the end of the walk. She was hobbling around looking completely bemused. I couldn’t find anything in her paw (stone, twig, thorn, etc) so we assumed she’d just strained something.

All day Sunday she was looking a bit sad and sorry and couldn’t walk on it. We figured if it wasn’t fixed by Monday, she’d be going to the vet. And so, today, she went to the vet.

The vet gave her an examination and it seems she has torn the cruciate ligament in one of her back legs. This is what her ‘knee’ looks like and what/where the cruciate ligament is.

Not Carmen's knee

Of course, the vet wasn’t 100% certain but she was pretty adamant that Carmen needed surgery ASAP. Part of the procedure is an x-ray first, just to make sure. If this shows that the ligament isn’t torn then she can probably just come home otherwise she’ll be in for yet another operation. She will be spending the day and night at the vet.

The pain has not stopped her leaping about on the furniture. Although, I should say, she misses more often with only three legs.
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How’s this for a cheeky face?

Gold finch