Good Fences

make good neighbours. That's an old saying here. I don't know where it comes from, but it's true. None of your see-through chain link in this country, oh no. A good fence is about protection, and privacy. We like our panels here, whether they be waney-lap or shiplap. Six foot high, preferably.

This was our fence between us and the property next door. It was pretty bad when we moved in, and then we had some little munchkins who liked to chuck stuff over, on a regular basis. Rocks, toys, metal bars, didn't matter. Hence the additional height added on, with whatever we could lay our hands on. Note the homemade screens on the right, which were on each window, although we have taken most of them them off now as those children are long gone.

Anything, really, to create a barrier between us and them. The property next door, you see, is kind of a revolving door property. The owner, who actually lives a few doors up the street, rents it out to the council. We've had words with him, occasionally. He doesn't really care.

However, although this would, should be his fence, his responsibility, we took it upon ourselves to erect something shiny and new.

Ahhhhhhhh. We didn't do it ourselves, mind, as it would have been quite a project. No, finally, we got someone in, who turned out to be a wonderful local handyman type of chap, to get it done, and get it done right.

The garden really is, finally, enclosed properly. Any eyesores have been eliminated.

I love our new fence.

Once Upon A Time

In fact exactly, to the day, six years ago, this little chickie had a problem. Her legs went funny, very funny, she was having trouble walking, so she went to the local NHS walk-in centre. They sent her to the A&E (ER). To the finest hopsital for neurological problems that exists in Europe, to say the least, King's College Hospital (interesting that, I thought, as I got my PhD from King's College London).

So I rocked up in a taxi, from the NHS centre in New Cross to Camberwell, since I was having some serious problems making my legs work, and they said, "Oh. Looks like Guillain Barre Syndrome. We'd better check you in."

Really? Really?? I don't do sick. I certainly don't do hospitals. "Are you kidding me? I have things to do!!"??

Two days after that, I couldn't walk at all. The next day after that I couldn't move, arms or legs. Oh, it's a bugger, that GBS. But the very worst part was telling those I love "um, sorry, I seem to be in hospital ..."

It's especially difficut when you have to call your husband, who just flew to LA the day before, that you're in A&E with something weird and inexplicable. It gets worse, when you realise after a few days, you have to finally tell your beloved family, "ummmmmmmm ... actually I'm now in the HDU (high dependency unit) and I have no idea WTF is wrong with me", because you realise you're not coming out any time soon, and you might just possibly be suffering intense pain, too. And then you go into Intensive Care and lose three days out on a resiprator. Which for me was a relief because I thought, "sleep!" but which really sucks for those loved ones having to watch by your bedside.

However! Of course I came out the other side two months later, to the day. After learning to walk again, I left hospital with a cane, and ditched that soon after.

But it weighs on my mind at this time of year, and in this year, on this particular day. I was wondering why I was having dreams about it. Because it was a Monday, and I guess with six years gone by, and a leap year in between, this day would be a milestone. Tonight I just made, ate and shared a lovely meal. Six years ago I had just eaten some hospital *ack* food and was waiting in the hallway, waiting to be given a bed. I had a good friend by my side for part of it for which I will always, always be grateful. Thanks, Caroline.

Wishing everyone who has had it, who is having it now, who has lost a loved one to it (can happen, sadly), the very best of all my love.

We're a rare breed. Wish we could get rid of it completely, so no one would have to suffer it again.

Down with GBS.

Behind The Scenes Of The Affordable Art Fair « CBS Los Angeles

Behind The Scenes Of The International Art Fair « CBS Los Angeles

Out of general interest, I thought I'd share this link to an interview with the founder of the Affordable Art Fair, Will Ramsay, the day before the opening of the newest AAF in Los Angeles.

Happy reading/viewing!

So I said

yes absolutely, I agree, the jasmine is getting out of control and must be cut back. I mean, it's growing over and through the neighbour's fence. That plant needs some serious trimming.

Beautiful of course though it is, with that delicious scent that is just heaven in the summertime. No, it needed a trim.

Um ....

I guess there was some misunderstanding between my "cut it back" and his "cut it down and completely decimate it".

Oh, and why not trample over the entire herb bed and kill those too, at the same time.

Still, I can now clearly see that the rosemary is in bad shape, and I might as well rip that out too.

In fact, I might as well just completely start over.

Did I mention how the scent was delect ............

Oh, nevermind.

Cat Songs

Yes, well. This song came on the radio tonight (WXRT, Chicago's Finest Rock) and as Ginger was in my arms anyway, we ended up dancing around the kitchen. Me singing to him. I don't think he appreciated it much, but hey, I saw the Stray Cats at the Aragon Ballroom so it was perhaps more of a special moment for me, than for him.

He seemed to be hacked off by it actually, and went out the cat flap shortly after.

Cats. No pleasing them sometimes.