A lovely walk at Gilfach Nature Reserve

 

Gilfach Bridge, on the long-defunct Mid-Wales Railway.  There are signs saying not to go near or it will fall on your head! You're instructed not to walk across it either.  In their defence, a chunk of masonry and brick HAS fallen from the edge of the archway.

Does this look like a skull to you?  It did to us!!

The NOISE of the water flinging itself down over the waterfall onto the rocks.

Oak moss all over this Hawthorn tree.

Parasol Mushroom.

There were lots of these slabs which had been hauled into rows to serve as fencing.  In this area too were the footings of old Medieval houses.  I thought that these were a row of them to start with but no, fencing they were.  Hence I was looking in the wrong spot for the Medieval footings.

We stood and watched a really huge Red Kite flying around this area - at first he was so big we thought he was an Eagle!  Then we saw the forked tail.

More stone fencing.

Beautiful views, everywhere.

I think it's a Fox Moth caterpillar, but I could be wrong!  The wind was blowing him across the road, so we rescued him with a frond of bracken and put him in the long grass, hopefully heading away from the tarmac.

One of the Russulas.  (Russula aurea?)  Not seen this variation of red, orange and yellow before.  Quite prolific on the reserve.

Fly Agaric - an easy one!

We'll be back.  More words in the morning - I started this too late in the day.

We take our health for granted

 

When I visit churches, I am constantly reminded of the frailty of human life.  Mind you, in the days when this poor little chap died, medicine was somewhat basic - even if a diagnosis could be accurately arrived at, the treatment was often not up to effecting a cure. Having money purchased better health care but was no certainty to sustaining life.

Of course, there is no cure for war, nor for the grievous wounds and subsequent blood-loss, infections etc which would follow them, especially in hot climes and basic canvas hospitals.  Once again, having money didn't help you.

These Baskerville memorials are ones I found in Holy Trinity Church at Bosbury on Sunday, on our way back from Malvern.  I will do a separate post on it in due course.

Some were fortunate to make it to their three score years and ten, and gravestones and memorials to folk in their late 80s and even 90s are common enough.  I guess it was luck of the draw. We all know that sometimes the treatment was worse than the cure (think of poor Charles II, who had a stroke, yet was "treated" by the drawing of blood, some 16 ounces, given draughts containing ground up human skulls (!), not to mention enema after enema to purge him, and then he was tortured with the application of scalding hot cups and irons.  Such was the ignorance of medical science at the time, which hadn't really moved on since Hippocrates.   I imagine he was very relieved to die several days later.

Mind you, in my ma-in-law's time (she was born in 1909 I think) there were 4 of them an their mum had been widowed in the war and they were very poor) and they HAD to call the Dr in - you paid in those days of course - as the children had Scarlet Fever and she remembers her mum putting up a sheet over the bedroom doorway which was sprayed with disinfectant to stop the germs spreading any further.  Hardly surprising that they were "took bad" when nourishing food (e.g. meat) might only be in a meal once a week and when things were really bad, towards payday (g.granny worked in a laundry) the only meal to be had might be "kettle broth" - chunks of stale bread sprinkled with salt and (white) pepper, and covered in boiling water.  When money was even tighter, you could forget the bread . . .

        Even when I was growing up, the only things in the "medicine cupboard" - think a shelf in the larder - were Andrews' Liver Salts (which I used to make "pop"), Beechams Powders, and a box of Plasters.  Mum seemed to use a lot of those, always cutting herself!  Oh and TCP if you cut had a scratch or scraze, and these were generally not covered in plasters  but left open for the air to heal . . .  We had Calomine Lotion for bites and rashes, and Vick for colds which mum used to rub above my top lip and I HATED that.  Mum used Camphorated Oil rubbed on her chest for a cold too.  When you were getting well you had Lucozade to build you up, or for adults, Sanatogen.  When mum was "going through the change" she took Yeastvite tablets which I think were basically just Vitamin B.  One of my favourite things when I had a sore throat were Blackcurrant Pastilles, which came in a little tin, and I would eat like sweeties!

        All this has come about because Keith had his Covid booster jab yesterday and we both had our Flu jabs last week.  I was extremely ill with Flu back in 1972 or so, in bed for 3 weeks and my lungs permanently affected so to have a degree of protection against getting it badly again is a relief for me.  It can be a killer.  As can Covid still, of course, when you have underlying health problems, which we both do.    I think we take our health for granted until problems arise but thank heavens we have moved on from how medicine was practiced - even when I was a child in the 50s. 

Landed gentry weren't exempt either - on reading these details, Keith said he almost certainly died from Malaria, as so many did along the Malabar coast.  Whether he was in the employ of the British Army, or worked for the East India Company, I haven't been able to discover.  34 is young though . . .  This memorial is in St Mary's Church in Fownhope, another one to write up about.

Then even if you survived War (the Zulu wars in this case), PTSD might overwhelm you and scarcely surprising in this case as Private Robert Jones was awarded his V.C. for his bravery at Rorke's Drift, but subsequently took his own life. 

        Hoping you are all healthy today.  Grab each morning by the throat and do something special, notice something beautiful, tell your family how special they are. Take pleasure in the minutiae of life.  Tomorrow a meteorite might fall on your head!

Out Like a Light

 

It was the last Malvern Fleamarket for 2022 yesterday.  Keith was champing at the bit to go, now that we had the Mob. Scooter.  My good friend Pam came along for moral support - first scooter outing in all that.  

What a wonderful time to arrive - look at the ethereal mists.

No filters used - just natural light.  Breathtaking.

We had a very long day - arriving around 10 to 8, and not leaving until 1.30 and Keith was still protesting we hadn't been up some of the outside rows.  Indeed we hadn't but by that time I was tired from pulling the trolley round and he as being SO thorough - it had been over a year since his last Fair, so it was understandable that he didn't want to miss anything.  I loved this little pair of horses but at £120, they were way over what I would want to pay.

A little single pony on wheels, with some sort of skin crudely sewn on.  £80.  Too expensive for moi.

Continuing on the horsey theme . . .

I will own up to purchasing one of these Ukrainian/Hungarian saddles - about 150 years old.

The same stand had some lovely pieces (above and below).

    So all in all, a lovely day out, but very very tiring.  Matters weren't helped by sleeping so badly the night before - e.g. scarcely at all.  You know what it's like - the moment you set an alarm, your brain seems to go on Major Alert and stops you going to sleep in case you sleep through the alarm!  "Tea" last night was a bacon roll apiece!

    Keith coped well but was very stiff from all the sitting - travelling there and back and hours on the scooter.  We know what we are doing with it now though and it fits the bill perfectly.  A shame we didn't go through the funding hoops for nothing and just got one earlier as we were trying to do.  

An outing to Brecon

 

Decisions faced Ghengis.  Should he roll in the just-weeded much-depleted Catnip or just EAT IT?!  He decided to do both . . .  The Head Gardener has realized that she was not saving the Catnip by putting it in a planter, on a step, on the bank but actually giving the cats a walk-on cat nip bed! Ghengis and Alfie LOVE cat nip, Theo was a bit ambivalent and Little Whale Doesn't Do Drugs!!

Pam was going shopping for walking boots recently, and as she didn't know Brecon at all (home to 3 outdoor equipment/walking/hiking shops) I offered to show her around.

The canal basin in Brecon (which is in front of the Theatre). 

Pretty cottages edge the canal, all with lovely summer plantings.

More scenes from the canal basin.  You can take a trip along the canal on this lovely narrow boat.  I think the prices were £25/hr, £35/2 hrs and £45/3hrs.

The Lock Keeper's cottage?

This narrow boat just came in, turned and left again.

One of the little antiquesy shops in the town.  Pam wanted to go in and have a nose round, so we did.  Some nice things there, though this cast iron table and chairs were the only thing I'd have liked (or indeed needed).

Successful shopping trip as Pam got new boots, more socks, boot proofing and had an initial in-house proofing of her boots so she's ready to go now!  It was nice showing her round the town, and we then went to B&M Bargains, ostensibly "just" for a big box of suet balls for the birds, but of course, other things were bought.  Pam had never been to this chain of stores before and was delighted at the household items you could buy at sensible prices.

Now, my day is unfolding, so I will drag myself away from the computer and do some work.

St Lawrence Chuch, Bishopstone and a MOAN

 For anyone who watched the programme about Jeremy Paxman having Parkinson's, my PD nurse said today to take it with a pinch of salt as not entirely accurate . . .

On my way to Brinsop, I noticed a sign to Bishopstone church, so stopped off to see what it was like.

I'm sorry I didn't take very good photos of these, but you can get a good idea of what God's Little Acre supports at this church.

I am amazed that this carving survive (there was an identical one on the other side of the church too).  Male and female somethings!  Love them.

I think these are of the Berington family, John and Joyce, dated about 1613, but the plaque above is barely legible now.

Beautiful floor tiles.

The Jacobean pulpit survived.

Fragments of smashed Medieval glass have been made up into this absolutely beautiful window.

I cannot believe that these religious pieces were considered examples of "ritualistic worship" and needed to be destroyed.  See Sue in Suffolk's post today.  Iconoclasm at its worst.

As for the moan:  Yet again the Surgery didn't put a request for repeat prescription on automatic repeat, thus when I went to collect it from Boots, they didn't know about it.  So on Monday I had to put in a request for a repeat prescription, which takes 3 days.  Keith had two pills left.  I collected it yesterday, and noticed that the prescription was for the non-brand name medication.  It wasn't a controlled release one - my fault for not putting CR after the name of the medicine when I requested it as I didn't realize the significance.  Boots didn't have either in stock, and pointed out I needed to get a prescription for CR capsules.  I returned to the GP and saw a Dr who made me out what she thought was a script for the correct medication, upon reading the letter from the Parkinsons' nurse.  She gave me a copy of the letter.  Boots had told me that their shop in Llandod could supply the meds.  But no - got there and they refused to fill the prescription because it didn't correspond with the original named drug. I was unable to speak to the Parkinsons' nurse yesterday afternoon - she didn't return my call, so must have been out of her office.  

Result - Keith had no medication for last night and spent half of it shaking and in a bad way.   I have been up since 5.30 when I noticed Keith gone from our bed (he was downstairs as wide awake) and I daren't go back to bed/sleep as I need to be on the phone to the PD nurse at 9 a.m.  A prime example of the Butterfly Effect in Chaos Theory . . .  UPDATE: Have seen PD nurse, and have it all sorted.  Brain still whirling from all that though - should have read Medicine instead of Archaeology!