Monday, 28 April 2025

Quelle Horreur!

 A little interlude between carrying on my as yet unfinished blog on my trip to Ireland a few weeks back and my forthcoming yet to be finished blog on my trip to Cornwall which only starts next Monday!

 So it was that this morning was head hair clipping day. I've no real idea what all the shaving terms are, I can only assume that the settings on my panasonic clipper mean something to someone. What's left of my top I cut on No.11 and the sides on No. 8/9, depending on my mood. Up to the bathroom I go as The Swan From Tuonela plays on Radio 3. Top done (takes no time), I switch combs to get to the 8/9 setting when I realise the radio's off in the bathroom, so I turn, switch it on, turn back and deftly run the clipper along the side of my head ... on setting 1!!! Words inappropriate for this blog spew out and a minute of reflection takes place, before I commit to a No 1 over my whole bonce. All I need now is a St Georges flag and some tats and I can join the lads!

As it happens, this might be quite good ... not only for wigging about when I'm in Cornwall but also for my skin (scalp psoriasis) ... but who is that in the mirror?

Friday, 7 March 2025

PHRASES I LOVE - A Running Thread

 I've decided to have a running thread for phrases which, which while having due respect for the events that triggered them, lifted my eyebrows, if not my spirits, about the wordsmiths unusual (some might say misappropriated) choice of language. Anyone reading this is welcome to add any they come across in the comments. I'll add the ones that get my eyebrows aloft!

1. Starting on 07 March 25 - the self-destruction of a Space X rocket (umanned):

 "a rapid unscheduled disassembly"

The wording is, of course, reasonably correct, although 'disassembly' does imply a stuctured process, rather than an uncontrolled parting of the ways of the various components. The BBC is less coy - it exploded. The lightshow was quite spectacular as captured by a couple of people in the Bahamas.

2. Sue alerted me to this description of POTUS she found on a British political vlog:

"About as popular as a hedgehog suppository"

I just wonder what the vlogger thinks about JDV?  

3. 10 March: "A parsitic illegal immigrant"

(Ooops, I should have cut and pasted this rather than try and spell it out  ... parsitic? Who Moi???)

Whoever could Mr 2-shirts Bannon be referring to? 

4.  26 March: I couldn't resist this bit of schadenfreude from Moxie Marlinspike (sic) the founder of the Signal app:

"There are so many great reasons to be on Signal. Now including the opportunity for the vice president of the United States of America to randomly add you to a group chat for coordination of sensitive military operations.”

 

5. 15/06 I came across this a few weeks ago. Whether it holds true in every respect, I don't know, but it does seem that for everything from trade tariffs to threats against Russia regarding Ukraine, POTUS really does deserve his nickname ... TACO 

 

6.  05/07 Not so much a phrase this, but  ...

 


 

 

(courtesy of MSN News)

 ... so spoke the Chairman of the Board of the John F Kennedy Centre for the Performing Arts  ... 

7. A very sad post today ... it's return of TACO man from Alaska. 

8. 21/09 - It's very cruel, but there's this curious fashion going the rounds of women at the moment for very exaggerated eyebrows and filled(?) pouty lips and I read it described as 'cod lips and slug eyebrows'. Yes, cruel, but when the local newspaper has seemingly endless selfies by such young women (often up before a court for minor offences) a shorthand description is inevitable.

 



 

Friday, 28 February 2025

Meeting An Old Friend

 When Barbara, my dear friend who helped me 'become' Nikki, had her health seriously compromised, a national charity, Age UK, helped her find a flat in sheltered housing where she spent her last few years. She had given up providing a dressing service and I never dressed there, but she did let one old client of hers from Folkestone ('Jim')  keep a suitcase there and dress from time to time.

Barbara had a great pal, Doris, who I have probably mentioned before. Doris lived in a flat opposite and their doors were always open to each other. Once when 'Jim' was there Doris called in. Barbara later recounted how Doris didn't turn a hair at the appearance of 'Jim' in female clothing and wig.

When Barbara died, I took 'Jim''s suitcase for safekeeping and let him know that he could call at my place whenever he wanted to dress. I had inherited Barbara's watercolours and 'Jim', being an accomplished and published artist, also showed me the rudiments of watercolour painting.

Time passed, I retired and took up painting classes, 'Jim' called around from time to time, always interested in what I had been painting. I used to visit Doris a couple of times a year until Covid and Pauline's cancer intervened. It must have been three or four years since I last saw her.  Then this last Christmas, 2025, Doris left a message on my phone and once I was past the worst of my annual SAD I went over and spent a couple of hours with her while she reminisced about her youth and the stables she used to run. I found it astonishing how she flicked through photographs she had of her horses and recounted each one's character. I hope my brain's that good at 95, if I ever get there!

Then, surprise ... she mentioned 'Jim'! It was quite clear that when he first appeared she was a bit taken aback. Apparently, he was in some filmy seethrough dress with a slip underneath but then he went and changed into a more formal dress and rejoined Barbara and Doris for some tea! Doris was clearly not disturbed by the idea of men dressing as women and mentioned things like 'Cabaret'. I was in a bit of a quandary ... should I tell her about Nikki, or not? I decided not to as she has only known me as Nick. Of course, had she asked a direct question, I would have willingly admitted it. I'll be seeing her again in a few weeks. Perhaps I'll put one or two pictures of Nikki on my phone, just in case.

I forgot, when first writing this, who 'Jim' was to Doris. She thought 'Jim' was the priest who officiated at Barbara's cremation! They did look alike and I know the Rev. used to call on Barbara in the years before she died. Doris thought there might be some tie-up with wearing priest's robes ... hmm!

 

 

Saturday, 25 January 2025

James Taylor ... a quick memory

 I want to get this down before I forget it; it might disappear forever.

Final year at Chelsea College of Technology ... a girl on my course, not wishing anything else, wondered whether I would like to hear an LP she had of James Taylor. I think she lived in a bedsit in Earls Court. (Addition 06/06/25 - I can now picture the street, Warwick Road). So it was that I first heard 'Sweet Baby James' and was immediately, and forever, taken by his music. Some time later I visited her and her boyfriend ... she was going to quit college. For the first time in my life I gave someone else advice. I said to her that she would pass the final exam units, that it was just a few months away (I think no more than three) and once she had the degree she could do what she liked but nobody could take that award away from her. I can't remember her name, I hope she lived the life she wanted despite those last few months ... she did get her degree.

This all came back tonight as BBC2 had a Carole King (with) James Taylor night and memories from so many years ago were awakened. 

February add-on: my memory has always had a mind of its own!!! As I guess with most people, memories spring themselves upon us at their own whim and now I think it important to note them down, if possible, as they provide 'nodes' in life which I can then fit other experiences to. (Curiously, just responding to Sue's piece in her blog 'Sue's news and views' mentioning wild boar sauce brought back the whole experience of a fortnight in Zivaco in '98, our second trip to Corsica - the first was to Lama). Corsican chestnut beer; ancient chestnut pollards in the woods; a helicopter ambulance recovering a woman who horse had thrown her while riding through the village; the house we stayed at, English owned by the widow of a ex-pat farmer who had emigrated in the 60's. Modern Corsican polyphony - our first hearing of I Muvrini, who we later saw twice in Lille and once in London ... more side roads of memory there! Going to a restaurant in a neighbouring village for a pizza and being told by the owner that we should have boar instead as it had just been prepared that day, but was not on the menu. He said it in a friendly but 'forcible' manner such that we knew we were in for a treat, and it was. When we wanted dessert, he wasn't letting go ... he had some cheese which he was sure we would like. We had it (all through our lives it's been very rare for us not to try new things) and it was good. The owner then came over with coffee and asked us about the cheese .We told him it was really nice. "Good" he said, "the man who made it is sitting there" ... at the next table!

Monday, 6 January 2025

2025 ... Another New Year, But Last Year and Christmas First


 Pauline and I had fallen into an enjoyable if short-lived habit of visiting Pamela and Mary in Ireland for Christmas. Pauline's decline in health was such that Christmas 2023 had to be cancelled. Pamela insisted that this year, 2024, I visit for two weeks.

I knew when Pauline died that I needed to be able to focus on things for me. Before then, however, there were other things that had to be done.

Sorting out Pauline's Estate would take a toll, even with assistance and so it has turned out. The clearing of the hoarding in the flat is now almost complete and I was able to get a clearance company to remove full boxes and bags of papers. I also found a plumber who fixed a pipework problem and is coming back in January to refurbish the bathroom. He has also indicated that he can direct me to other local tradespeople who can get to work on the kitchen etc. I hope that by Spring the flat will be in a condition that I can then decide what to do with it. At some time I shall also have to go to Germany to resolve part of Pauline's Estate that is over there!

An early job for 'me' was to employ a tree surgeon to carry out work at the cottage - a first as I always used to do garden and tree work myself but I can't risk accidents now - old bones don't bounce. A tree  needed to come down and then there were the hedges, uncut for two years, they were about 16 foot high.

With that underway, I was able to book myself a week on the Lizard in Cornwall, primarily for walking, but also for visiting some megalithic sites. The week was good despite managing to get a double puncture one day that cost me the next day in getting new tyres (thank heavens for Green Flag). One of the best pictures was taken at the end of twilight and a very long walk.


I did manage a bit of dressing while there:

  

Apart from this old ruin (me) there were plenty of  megaliths, such as Chûn Quoit, to be visited. I have decided to return to the Lizard in 2025 and hope to meet with Deeanna when I do.




 

 

 

 The trip to the Lizard was what I needed: somewhere new, to ease me into a new life.

 I still had little inclination to dress, however, and I was having problems with my left eyelid - swelling and psoriasis.

Roll on to December and I was packing for Ireland. I did buy two new dresses as we hoped to have a couple of nights at a hotel near Athlone. Just before leaving for Ireland there was news from Holyhead - the ferry berth had been damaged by Storm Darragh. At first it seemed slight, but the news just got worse. In the end I transferred to Cairnryan-Belfast. I was able to cancel everything without cost and actually saved money, but it was a long haul up to Scotland and I arrived in Belfast for the dawn rush hour. I arrived at Pamela and Mary's in time for breakfast and to hear further ferry news: Holyhead would be shut until 15 January! I immediately worked out that Dublin-Fishguard would be best for me, so transferred my ticket for that route. Once Stena had got over the shock of losing its most popular route, it was very efficient at re-ticketing. Pamela had bad news - the cortisone injection for her knee had done nothing and she was in a great deal of pain. Despite that, the fortnight with Pamela and Mary was wonderful: I didn't really want to leave and I don't think they wanted me to. We had a chat with Gia on Christmas day. Pamela and Gia have been so supportive through this saddest of all years.

Of course we did get out while I was in Ireland, sometimes dressed, sometimes not. I even managed to use make up again, for the first time in two years, although after the first attempt the eyelid problem returned, so from then on I only used make up to my cheek bones and avoided eye make up. 

On my last day Pamela and Mary treated me to Afternoon Tea at Tankardstown House which rounded off a great Christmas and New Year.

I came home with one new dress still to be worn, but we intend going to Athlone later this year. The journey home was uneventful ... just 17 hours of it!

Back at home, the house was very cold and damp and I spent the first hours warming it up. I found I had but one message of the answerphone, but what a message ... it was from Barbara's old neighbour, Doris!!! I honestly thought she had passed away. I made phoning her the very first thing I did the following day and we've arranged that I'll see her in a couple of weeks. She is still all with it at 95!

I'm taking this as a good omen for 2025.


Saturday, 23 November 2024

THE GIRL OF MY LIFE

 It was 1965 and my brother dropped me off at the local youth club where I had agreed to meet other school friends. We all had a single purpose ... to find a girlfriend. So it was that I finally approached a girl who seemed shy (but then her mother was one of the women checking that everything that happened at the youth club was above board). When it was time to leave an older school friend who had a motorbike offered to take me home ... a rather scary memory etched on my brain forever.

The next month the girl, Pauline, and I chatted more and then we started going out together. There are lots of micro-memories from those days, but I do have something more ... a photo from 1966:

Friends and I used to meet Pauline and her school friends from time to time after school. It was a fun time, usually listening to The Beatles, rather than the Rolling Stones (which would have been my preference).

Of course, there was the angst of being teenagers 'in love' at the time, but this wasn't a real issue for Pauline and myself; we seemed fine together.

 ... Pause now for a few months ...

I started this thread in July, it's now the end of November. The pause has really been because everyday life (Estate matters and more) have dictated much of my day-to-day life.

Although I had known about my transvestite (as it was called back then) needs, they were deeply closeted. Years later, I concluded that I had taken on what we might consider to be a 'macho loner' persona, starting in my school years, to avoid people getting too close to the 'real' me. Through motorcycling, very fast car driving and way too much alcohol, I could have lost my life, I could have lost Pauline, but I survived and she was always there to provide comfort and tenderness. We even had a very slight dalliance with cross-dressing, but neither of us really understood what it actually meant.  We both also had dalliances with others, but always 'came home' to each other.

We moved in together at the end of 1976 in Germany when Pauline, a technical translator, obtained a post with a subsidiary of Siemens. I was just mooching about, not knowing very much about what I wanted to do in life. We decided to stay for a year and then go travelling in South America. As happens, it was after 8 years in Germany that we decided to return to England. Now we were both adrift, but I had 're-skilled' while in Germany and was undertaking voluntary stuff in wildlife conservation. This was Thatcher's Britain, but Pauline found work and eventually so did I. Time passed, my work was increasingly demanding which may have triggered an increase in need for TG expression while Pauline's work peaked and then declined which might have triggered old OCD problems that she had. Sadly, by 2003 the tensions were such that we began to live separately, although we maintained a good relationship (this is another story).

Pauline was diagnosed with Parkinson's in late 2017 and I retired at the beginning of 2018. Having already planned visiting my TG friend Pamela in Ireland in 2018, I was surprised that Pauline said she would like to join me, but she had already spent Christmas with me as Nikki. She was obviously rather trepidatious but Pamela and M were great hosts and I don't think Pauline had experienced me talking for so long with another human being every day for the time we were there. I think it was with meeting Pamela and M that Pauline concluded that being TG wasn't that weird. To that end, and with our squeezing in visits during Covid, at Christmas 2022 we posed for 'marriage photos' with me the blushing bride ... to presage our actual marrying in early 2023.

 Enough for now ... but finishing on a couple of photos I love of Pauline:

 



 

Kiel, 1972



In Corsica, 1998


Tuesday, 4 June 2024

7 YEARS LATER

 I guess this should be Nikki's New Life Part 2, something I never thought I'd write.

 

On 28 June, 2017, my best friend and TG supporter, Barbara, died. On 29 May, this year, my life-long love, Pauline, who married me last year and grew to understand and support TG people passed away through cancer.


I want to write, to celebrate Pauline's life. That will come in its own time.

24/06 - Feeling raw emotions as I collected Pauline's ashes today. Very strange, in the bright sunshine of the hottest day of the year, walking with a carrier bag containing 73 years of someone's life across the road amidst the everyday traffic and over to Sainsbury's where the car was parked. Then home and so, where do I put those memories? Nothing fits, nothing's right ... this shouldn't be, but that's what life is, an interruption in nothingness.

Curiously, at the end of an evening laced with brandy, I find some solace in playing Bruce Springsteen on youtube. He sings with such vibrancy about life and I remember when we saw him in Frankfurt all those years ago, back in '81. I finally have to turn off youtube when, however good he is, he isn't playing with the E Street Band and switch to BBC Radio 3, a channel P and I adopted in the last year. That brings me to Mahler, but he must wait as it's late now.

 


 

 

Sunday, 2 June 2024

SOURDOUGH AND AIRFRIERS

 It's been a long while since I posted anything here. There are reasons for this, some of which I can mention here. I did write a couple of drafts on things I have since almost forgotten about, but I want to get to point of this  ... sourdough.

I enjoy cooking and baking and have devised a very successful (IM not so HO!!!), if long-drawn-out version of ciabatta, which I covered in an earlier post January 2022. I have given up the egg wash as it seemed a waste of an egg! The main thing is getting the oven hot enough, which with current energy prices can seem wasteful, but I try and time baking with other oven uses ... usually moussaka. More of this later.

My partner has Parkinson's and has also developed a malignant cancer which has occupied a lot of time - surgery, chemotherapy, hormone therapy and now immunotherapy), but eating is something she enjoys, so I keep fiddling about to provide tasty things. A while ago I became interested in sourdough, to the extent of buying a couple of books which should have led me to Nirvana. All they did was warn of failure ... everything was so complicated - temperatures, feeding, flours ... blah, blah, blah. Anyway, I did make some ferment (this is flour+water which has become bubbly) and found I had some 3 year-old rye flour, so I tried out some rye sourdough. It worked - the bakes looked good and the one I didn't try to knead came out nice and holey (LHS in pic).

The downside is that rye flour is incredibly gooey and cleaning up is very difficult. But, what kept coming back to me was that the ferment looked rather like the results of the first stage of the ciabatta making. Mulling it over at 5am (my usual time for mulling). I decided to treat the ferment just as that first stage. So one morning I took 375gm of ferment and put it in the breadmaker pan and added the contents of stage two: 1/4 tsp of fast-acting yeast + 325 gms strong white bread flour + 1/2 tsp of sugar + 4tbsp of olive oil + 1 1/2 tsp  salt + 90 ml water. This is then put on a dough programme for 2 hrs 20min. I then made up some small and medium rolls (no pix!) and cooked them in a max. heat oven for 12 minutes. If I didn't know, they could have been the old-style ciabatta. Tasting a roll, the slight sourness of sourdough came through!

What this post is really about, 'though, is how simple it is to have the ferment ever ready for baking. 

I never got round to finishing this piece. The last date associated with it is October 2023. Now, in June 2024, I am reflecting on how the title of this blog has run its course. In the first piece on this blog I describe my relationships a little. Now, change is here again as cancer has taken Pauline. 

A fuller update to this blog will follow.



Monday, 15 August 2022

Cats, Dogs, Walruses and a Bit of Sex

I've always been a bit antisocial, preferring the company of animals, even though I've never possessed a pet, and with my ecological background I am sensitive to what might be termed an animal's safe space. So it was stories from yesterday in the papers attracted me.

Let's start with the good new for the cats of Walldorf, Germany ... they are out of lockdown for this year!

Near Walldorf, crested larks breed, or try to. Trouble is, they are ground-nesting birds and now very rare (just three breeding pairs at Walldorf). They have been extirpated from previous breeding areas in Switzerland, Luxembourg, Norway and Sweden. Cats are interested in birds, and ground-nesting ones are easy game, so the authorities in Walldorf have decreed that for the next three years, cats must be kept under close control (indoors or on a short leash) during the crested lark rearing season. This should be until the end of August, but has been brought forward by a couple of weeks, probably due to climate change!

Even better news for Maggie, a Turkish Akbash dog that had been taken for a walk up Ben Nevis by three women. Sore paws and exhaustion led to it not being able (or simply refusing, as dogs do) to get back down the mountain and although the women tried carrying her down, she is 35 kg, so the Lochaber Mountain Rescue Team were called out to stretcher Maggie down! It was that, or stay on the mountain overnight.

Now, for upsetting news. Freya, the young Walrus who had been enjoying lounging on boats in Oslo fjord was euthanased killed because of a perceived public danger caused by the public. There could have been, there should have been, a better solution ...

Now for a bit of sex ... from the MIT Techology Review:The quest to show that biological sex matters in the immune system.

Research immunologists at John Hopkins are looking at the role sex (chromosomes, sex hormones, reproductive tissues) has in immune responses and Sandeep Ravindran has written a lengthy and interesting piece on this.

One of the aspects in the piece that relates to my previous blog entry is a hypothesis that takes on board  certain higher immune responses in females compared to males and suggests that "a stronger immune response in female mammals could help transfer more antibodies to their babies in utero and through their milk, thus protecting offspring from infections. The same heightened immune responses that help keep babies alive also increase the risk of autoimmune diseases when females are older, but the trade-off may be worth it from an evolutionary standpoint."

There's a lot to digest in the MIT piece. The above demonstrates how interactive everyday life and evolution may be. It's a long way from Mendel and his beans.


Friday, 12 August 2022

Stay Forever Jung!

I mentioned in Sue’s blog a while ago that I tended to subscribe to Jungian psychology as it had equivalences in ecology (my profession). I wrote I may write something on that in my blog … so here goes! I apologise in advance if some of it seems unwieldy ... but that's the way psychology is!

First things first, ‘though: I have no training in psychology and while counting daisies has been part of my ecological background, the ecology that informs my thinking is behavioural and evolutionary ecology.

I use the following terms solely for this piece of writing:

transvestite, a term used by Freud; and and , to avoid the use of ‘male and female,’ terms that may carry social baggage.

Dumping Freud

I was raised at a time when Freudian psychology was mainstream (if any stream of psychology could be called that). As it affected me, his work seemed to suggest that anything that was not boringly dull was some sort of psychopathological state and for me, a ‘transvestite’ in his terms, he could provide a lifetime of analysis! I found that if I subscribed to the basis of his thinking, there was some contorted logic to his approach, but as with Blanchard et al. much later, that basis made no sense to me – it was anthropocentric with overtones of moral certitude.

What I’m Not Writing About Here

To explore (even superficially) how the basics of Jungian psychology relate to ecology is an enormous task. Rather than to try and write about everything, I’m going to take topics individually. For the sake of space I've avoided some good examples of behaviours, but am willing to add some in, if it helps interpretation. Depending on whether I get any feedback and, more generally, how much time I have, I’ll explore more. For now, it’s time for the collective unconscious.

THE COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS

So, what is the collective unconscious and how does it relate to us via ecology (in its broadest sense). And how could that help an understanding of transgendering as a behaviour?

Initially, it is wise to demystify the term ‘behaviour.’ Anthropocentric concepts such as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ behaviour are irrelevant here. A quick look at dictionary definitions supports that, in that ‘behaviour’ relates to how an organism responds to something in its environment. The following extract from Journal Psyche expounds on that:

‘The theory of the collective unconscious is one of Jung’s more unique theories; Jung believed, unlike many of his contemporaries, that all the elements of an individual’s nature are present from birth, and that the environment of the person brings them out (rather than the environment creating them). Jung felt that people are born with a “blueprint” already in them that will determine the course of their lives, something which, while controversial at the time, is fairly widely supported to today owing to the amount of evidence there is in the animal kingdom for various species being born with a repertoire of behaviours uniquely adapted to their environments. It has been observed that these behaviours in animals are activated by environmental stimuli in the same manner that Jung felt human behaviours are brought to the fore.’

(Increasingly, ‘behaviour’ is nowadays also being applied to non-animal organisms, e.g., the turning of sunflowers to follow the course of the sun.)

The last sentence in the Journal Psyche piece is significant – an environmental stimulus triggers a behaviour for which the organism has an innate ability to express. With knowledge about how genetics act (both directly and indirectly), the “blueprint” mentioned above could be replaced by “framework within which they can behave.”

In the simplest of models of binary sex (i.e., and ) reproduction is the goal, but with increasing sophistication, especially amongst social animals, sex, its display, and act, may have many different meanings, depending on the species. Whilst animals cannot change clothes, some do portray attributes of the sex they are not (and, of course, some do even change sex). These abilities, whether expressed in life, or not, are innate. Since transgender and transsexual behaviour occurs across races in human species, it is reasonable to assume that the ability to express these phenomena is also innate – part of that “framework” of the collective unconscious.

Jung No More! Introducing Archetypes

Jung suggests that within us we possess archetypes. ‘These are described as a kind of innate unspecific knowledge, derived from the sum total of human history, which prefigures and directs conscious behaviour.’ (Wikipedia).

This is an aspect of Jung’s work that can be troublesome, as he moves into the realm of spirituality and beyond. An example of how Jung thought of archetypes is to imagine a snowflake. The archetype is not the snowflake, and it is not the water that forms the snowflake. The archetype has no form of its own, but it directs how the snowflake and all snowflakes form. Of course, such an analogy has limitations, although in later work Jung considered archetypes to include psycho-physical patterns existing in the universe.

These archetypes can be simply considered as sub-sets of the collective unconscious that act together to create a pattern of behaviour within the framework, providing part of the route to the conscious mind. Of particular interest are the contra-sexual archetypes – the anima in a male, and the animus in a female.

But that’s for later.

 

Wednesday, 15 June 2022

Psoriasis ... Agh, and more

 I've had psoriasis on my scalp for years now. It's not mattered as I have always worn a wig when presenting as Nikki. Last year I developed problems around my eyes and the GP practice (I saw several docs) treated me for seborrheic dermatitis as I'd been diagnosed with that some years earlier, and blepharitis. For the latest problem, nothing prescribed helped. Twice I had antibiotics as the docs thought there might be infection - but the only effect they had was on my digestive movements ... Using Dr Google, I did find that antihistamines could ease the discomfort (gee, thanks NHS docs for not addressing that). I do have a referral to opthalmology ... I've waited four weeks for just an acknowledgment.

Then a couple of weeks ago, things started happening in more earnest ... the psoriasis is spreading and the likelihood is that it is causing the eye problems.  For anyone who relies on make up, this is not good news. Basically, psoriasis is a bugger to treat|!

Added to that, I had a basal cell carcinoma (BCC) removed from the side of my nose a couple of years ago. It has changed the pseudo-symmetry of my face slightly; I am ok with that, but ... and it was a big but ... I was aware that I might be developing another BCC near the tip of my nose.  They are slow growing and benign, but they can damage bone and other subdermal tissue. At my age, it was a balancing act whether to hasten more surgery or let 'sleeping dogs' lie.

Today was decision day ... I shall be seeking another GP appointment seeking diagnosis of both psoriasis and BCC. The BCC should render a consultation with Dermatology in two weeks ... the thing I have to do is for that referral to include the psoriasis.

Sensibly, I can see that this will curtail my Tgirl appearances for some time to come, which at my age may bring about permanent change for me. 

But, on the bright side, the ECHR is acting against the self-serving liars etc. who seem to run England for their pals. One day, Boris, your day will also come ...

Short Update: I had an emergency appointment with the paramedic practitioner who was more 'engaged' than the docs (I think their workload gets to them). The doc previously was of the opinion that the problem around the eyes is seb derm, so the paramedic thought I should continue with treatment for such, but reduce the steroid cream to just below the eyes. I am following his instructions to the letter in terms of antihistamine, eye drops and steroid cream until Monday when I get to go back to the surgery for an appointment with a new doc, who will also look at the potential BCC. Some minor good news is that the progression of the problem seems halted, although psoriasis elsewhere continues.

Tuesday, 24 May 2022

Holidays, A Disturbing Find and A Trip to Brighton

 It's been a while since I last posted anything.

Sand Crocus, Dawlish Warren
We finally got away on holiday to Devon and Cornwall, to National Trust cottages booked for the previous Spring and held over because of Covid. The day before leaving I read up about a small flower I'd seen in Galicia and in Crete - a sand crocus - and realised it would be the perfect time to see it at Dawlish, one of two places it grows in in the UK, so our first day was not spent on Dartmoor but on the south coast. Then the heat wave hit and the moor was full of people embracing a beautiful Spring weekend away from the pandemic. We only got onto the moor ourselves later in the week when the weather had changed. We had a couple of walks but my partner tires easily now, being under chemotherapy. A skirt and top came out for one afternoon in the garden, but there wasn't the impetus to dress more. We then went onto Cornwall. I was meant to be walking part of the West Coast Path but, instead, we had a couple of shorter walks, and an afternoon's dressing. Then back home to continue the therapy and the regular round of hospital appointments.

We had arranged to start sorting through my partner's apartment - for years I had not been 'allowed' to visit as she is a hoarder and was embarrassed at the state of her living conditions. So it was that a 8-yd skip was procured and the clearing, with the aid of her sisters, began. Her flat was, and remains, a nightmare. One example: she would assiduously clean milk bottles and the like for recycling and then let them pile up around the furniture; another: she had a subscription to a weekly magazine and there were years of it, piled up, unopened. The skip was filled in one weekend and we expect to need at least one more. About this time my facial dermatitis worsened, so much so that we had to cancel a trip to see a concert that I had been really keen on. We don't know if there is a connection with the state of the apartment.

 

But, there was great news from the oncologist - following a scan, P was showing no signs of cancer and, despite the earlier problems with the bowel which had caused the treatment to start with chemo-, the scan showed that she could have radiotherapy in September.

 

Walmer Castle
Sheffield Park

A French flickr friend, Nadia, planned to visit England and, notwithstanding everything which was making life rather difficult, I agreed to show her places, including a trip to Brighton. On the first afternoon we went to Walmer Castle.


We had hoped to meet another friend, Jane, at Sheffield Park, but she was ill. We did, however, meet Sue in Brighton and had a fine couple of hours with her, wandering the lanes. It was a fine couple of days and the weather was superb. 

Brighton, North Laine Bazaar

Monday, 7 March 2022

UKRAINE ... TWO NAMES ... AND CALAIS, AGAIN

 Not much to write about at this time, but two names to conjour with - one, a person who was pivotal in saving the world from nuclear war in 1962, and one who through sheer charisma may be saving us in 2022.

The first, a Russian  ... Vasily Arkhipov, who arguably prevented the commander of the Soviet submarine, B-59, from firing a nuclear torpedo on October 27, 1962.

The second, a Ukrainian ... we know his name - Volodymyr Zelensky.

As for the UK PM ... everyone's going soft on him at the moment, despite the fact that he is not leading the West's response to Putin, notwithstanding his propaganda, ... the oligarchs are escaping with their billions while Ukrainian refugees are being turned back from Calais, as they need visas and our consular officials are based in Paris or Brussels. As I write, 1.5 million Ukrainians are refugees from Putin's invasion; 50 have been accepted into the UK.

I was brought up with the concept of sanctuary embedded in me. Later in life, I found out that my dentist was one of the Windermere children. 

 

Update from 13/03, six days after writing the above. From the Guardian newspaper:

"Even judged against the Home Office’s recent standards, the mix of incompetence, hard-heartedness and sheer dishonesty in response to the invasion of Ukraine has, for many observers, set a new precedent. Last week started with the admission that 50 UK visas had been granted since Russia invaded Ukraine – or one for every 28,000 people given sanctuary by the EU at the same time.

Home secretary Priti Patel then claimed she was considering a new route for refugees, but it did not materialise. Later, she announced a visa application centre had been established in Calais, but this was also untrue. By Wednesday, the Home Office said it was actually in Lille, but would not reveal where. A day later it became clear why: there wasn’t one.

Those helping Ukrainian arrivals in northern France confirm that the Home Office is more focused on media management than assisting vulnerable refugees."