Midwinter wobbles and the last leg

I am sitting here with shoes on both feet.  In the greater scheme of things, this means nothing, but tonight is three months and one week since I broke my ankle, and since then I have been wearing a cast - first plaster, then plastic - on my left foot.  I have what should be my last hospital appointment in three weeks, after which I should officially be back on my own two feet again.

In the mean time, I have been advised to gradually get used to walking around "normally" indoors at home.  To begin with, it was a real struggle, as I didn't realise how much strength I had lost in my left leg.  I have been forcing myself to lead with my left leg going up and down stairs.  I still need both hands to steady myself, but I'm starting to notice an improvement.  At work, I can hobble about the office and immediate vicinity with reasonable confidence now, but still need a stick for walking to other wings of the hospital, and most certainly outside.  As for public transport, the stick is essential, especially for buses that race off before I can sit down or attempt handbrake turns mid route.  Travelling by other public transport is restricted to stations that I don't need to use a staircase to get to the platform.  Hence my only commuting option at present being Southgate to King's Cross, though even that got snarled up on Friday when the down escalator was taken out of action.  This meant that station staff had to find a wheelchair for me, and push me to the alternative entrance, several minutes away, then take me in a lift down one level, then another marathon push to another lift to get me to the platform I would normally descend to in under 2 minutes.  Any "step free" access the transport system has is aimed at tourists, NOT to aid the disabled.  Little thought has gone into the positioning of the lifts in the newly built part of King's Cross.  If they genuinely had disable access in mind, they would have hidden the lifts and forced you to walk five minutes to get a further level down.  And in terms of emergency evacuation - don't get me started.

In spite of the snow on the ground, I have managed to get too and from work fairly easily.  Mostly thanks to the good sense of people in ours and the next street in keeping paths clear of snow and ice.  It appears we weren't the only households who stocked up on rock salt in case of bad weather.  Once the local children, dogs and more than a few parents had fun romping in the snow on Sunday morning, people got down to shovelling and scraping a safe way clear for every one.

Another thing we made sure we had good stocks of before any bad weather was bird food.  Not just for the chickens, but for wild birds too.  The usual feeder fare of fatballs and mealworms was expanded to include sunflower seeds, barley flakes, suet nuggets and dried native berries.  I found a spot to put out a tray of food that would attract thrushes, but be too tight a squeeze for magpies and woodpigeons (who could continue to benefit from anything the chickens kicked out of there runs) and was very soon rewarded with the sight of redwings and blackbirds.  But best of all was the sight of a goldcrest and male and female blackcaps feeding on the berries of the honeysuckle that cloaks the fence above the pond.  Normally I cut that back to stop too many leaves falling in the pond, but I've not been able to do any of my usual pruning this autumn and winter,  Sometimes it pays to be a little less tidy.

The view from my other window

Got good news on Wednesday.  The doctors are now happy with the way the bone is healing, and over the next six weeks I am to gradually get used to walking without the cast - indoors at home for an hour or so a night to start with, until by the end of February I just need it when out doors.  After that I should finally be back on both feet - wearing matching shoes at last!

So that's the second week back at work done.  Due to demands for space, I'm back at my own desk on the top floor from Monday.  Will mean I'm back doing all my duties bar carrying stuff and running around between offices.  Still working shorter hours to avoid rush hour though.

I've been arriving home as it just starts to get dark, and the first couple of nights I spotted a bright star in the south west and wondered what it was.  A quick bit of research and I realised it was Jupiter, and on Saturday night we dug out the binoculars and had a good look.  Even with an old pair of army field glasses I was able to play about with the magnification to get a good view of the planet, and a fleeting glimpse of one of the moons.  As the night wore on, it swung round until it was in the western sky, and we could look at it out the bedroom window.

I don't know how many of you were watching Stargazing Live this week, but it was also mentioned that Saturn follows through slightly lower in the sky in the early hours, and should be visible in the west just before dawn.  Now I set my first alarm for 5.30am, and get up about 6, but since they gave out that info it's been cloudy every morning.  The binoculars or at the bedside ready for the first clear morning.

The View From My Window

Just having a quick afternoon tea at the desk while Howard does the cleaning and replenishing the chickens’ bedding.  It is the most glorious weather.  Not a cloud in the cornflower blue sky, and the air is drenched with bird song.  The gulls are doing their snowdome impression over the lake, and starlings are gathering and chattering in the trees before finding something less organic to roost in overnight.

Now I’m back at work, I need to savour these moments.  I’m heading off just after sunrise, and arriving home as dusk fades to dark.  I’m so grateful that today the weather is so good and I can take it all in, even though I wish I was fit enough to enjoy it even more.

The last two nights have been clear, and we’ve woken to a proper frost.  My walk from the bus stop to my perilous front path has been guided by the dazzling bright evening star in the south western sky – Jupiter I think, and in the morning, just before the alarm goes off, the moon swings round to shine through our bedroom window, amplified by the sparkling frost on the garage roof.  It almost seems like winter has arrived.  Notwithstanding my injury, it was a long, slow Autumn.  And since the Solstice, the weather has been so mild it barely counted as Winter - until today.

Our clumps of Snowdrops were a little sluggish this year, but started flowering last week.  My hellebores are bursting forth.  Most are laden with buds, but my precious yellow one is already in full bloom.  I counted seven flowers fully open, and many more buds.  But there are flowers out elsewhere that really shouldn’t be.  One house I pass by on my revised walk to the bus stop (avoiding steep paths and slippery slopes) has a Thrift and a French Lavender in flower!  Granted, it is sheltered and south facing, but even so, it seems wrong, and something that should be saved for the summer. 

What little Summer we had came to a close earlier than has been usual of late, but a couple of sudden hot spells meant the start of Autumn proper took even longer.  When I broke my ankle on the 1^st November, many trees were still in full leaf – late even by recent standards.  By mid December, most trees had shed their leaves, although a few, in particular Oaks, and the Hazel in next door’s garden stubbornly hold on to their foliage.  Now even those have gone.  Next door’s Hazel is now dripping with golden catkins, which sway as the assorted Blue Tits, Great Tits, Wrens, Dunnocks and Robins launch themselves off its branches towards our birdfeeders.

As over the past couple of months I’ve only been able to sit and watch a limited area, I’ve been able to really observe Autumn, even if only from a distance.  When I first became incapacitated, most trees were only just starting to turn gold.  The one tree ahead of the game was the Field Maple on the road to the lake.  It had gone from deep blue green to crimson, then a burnt coral orange.  By the time most other trees had started to turn colour, the Maple had shed its leaves.

My last trip out of London before my injury was to North Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire.  Although a relatively short distance north, there was a distinct difference in the advance of the seasons.  The trees were a mass of reds, corals and gold.

The trees are only part of what I have been able to observe from the window.  The Canada Geese from the lake herald Spring and Autumn by flying in flocks rather than pairs.  The flocks started forming in August – worryingly early.  The Swifts had already disappeared, but this year the Swallows and House Martins stayed longer.  I even saw a bat flying near the houses in late October.  The redwings and fieldfares have arrived, though as yet not in the usual numbers.  I can’t get down to the lake to see if there have been any unusual migrant arrivals to add to the little Call drake who tries to mingle with the much larger Mallard males.  We’ll have to see if he has any affect on the population next year, like the white farmyard ganders who this year mated with some of the Canada females and produced hybrid offspring – Canada goose marked heads, but chunkier bodies and yellow legs.

I often see the Herons flying between the local lake and the ponds in parks further afield, and I see the flocks of gulls taking off from the lake and looking like a giant snow dome.  The Ring Necked Parakeets around here usually fly round in twos and threes – they are yet to be the nuisance they are in other areas, but last week I saw a flock well into double figures.  I’ve noticed more Blackbirds recently than I have for some time.  Howard has put more bird feeders out in the garden, which has brought in Robins, Blue and Great Tits in particular.  Yet to see anything unusual, but I didn’t get to see any Waxwings until the very end of last Winter.

And then, when it gets dark, I can hear the Tawny Owls, calling to each other as they fly between the trees.

Once I am fit and able to get outside under my own steam again, I will relish being able to get close to nature properly.  I look forward to watching Winter take hold, and then melt into Spring again.

Normal life is starting to be resumed

Started back at work last Tuesday after two months at home with my broken ankle.  Doctors aren't totally happy with the healing of the bone, but are giving me two weeks up and about, then if the bone is still slow to close up, I'm back in a plaster cast and on bed rest again.  Hopefully if I take care and rest when I can, I'll retain my freedom.

I'm working part-time (avoiding rush hours) whilst still in the plastic cast, and using a ground floor office for the same reason in case of fire evacuation.  Some of my usual duties involve running between offices with files and paperwork.  As this is not practical for me to do at the moment, my colleagues are doing this for me, and I'm covering  them in some of their tasks.

One of the best things about my return was knowing how much I was missed - not just by my immediate colleagues, but also by everyone from the canteen staff through to senior managers, who stopped to ask how I was and wished me well.

Because I'm still not mobile enough to rush around in the lunch hour, I have to make sure I take lunch in with me.  And due to the logistics of getting to and from a room with a microwave, for the foreseeable future it will have to be salad, sandwiches or soup in a flask.  This will hopefully save me some money over the next couple of months, which can be channeled into "productive" home based projects, such as more fruit trees and maybe later on this year adding more hens to the flock.

It's back to normal with the hens too.  After spending the late Autumn moulting, they are now all feathered up again and laying regularly.  We're starting to almost have a surplus of eggs, so this Saturday morning we had a six egg scramble for breakfast, and midweek Spanish omlettes are back on the menu, maybe even taking some in with salad for lunch.

Once I'm mobile I may lapse if I have errands to run, but it's a habit I want to keep.

I also want to set more time aside for writing.  I would normally take an overground train to work.  Quicker but I have to stand most days.  At the moment I'm taking the bus to the tube station, which is slower, but as it's near the start of the line I can get a seat in the morning.  I'm going to make sure I have a notebook with me and make good use of the travelling time.

I must admit I do find walking on my own quite tiring still, and I have to be very careful as the pavements are nowhere near level enough to walk without looking at the floor most of the way.

But as long as I'm careful and take my time, I'll be back on two feet by the Spring.

I would start how I mean to go on, but.....

At least I'm starting to get more active.  Howard picked up the hire van on Wednesday, and we've got out and about every day since.  Nothing spectacular, just a little light shopping, but it's more than I've been able to manage for the past 2 months.  I get tired very quickly, so I'm viewing my return to work on Tuesday with a great deal of trepidation.  Not sure how I'll cope with the journey, and especially the crowds.

Still, much of the shopping has been garden related.  I now have a full complement of my chosen seed potato varieties, and will be rigging up the trays to start chitting them in due course.  This is the earliest I have ever seen seed potatoes in the shops.  I'm sure that most years they don't go on sale until late January, but I'm not complaining.

We're going with the usual varieties for the bulk crop at the allotment - Red Duke of York for the First Early, Yukon Gold for Second Early, Desiree for early Maincrop "big" potatoes and Pink Fir Apple for late Maincrop "fancy salad" potato.  We'll also be growing a few more in containers in the back garden in smaller quantities - Home Guard (first early), and Charlotte and Shetland Black (second early).  If we make it to any of the upcoming Potato Day events, we may well get a few more exotic varieties to try in small amounts.

We went to Ayletts Nursery Garden Centre near St. Albans for most of the potatoes as they sell the seed potatoes loose, with varying size bags at a set price for you to fill with as many or as few as you need.  Every year I fill the bags with a nice round number of tubers, only to find Howard has sneaked a few more in before we get to the checkout.  Anything over an amount that can be divided by 5 (the ideal number per row in the allotment beds) gets planted in a container, so nothing is wasted.

Also managed to get some more shallot sets.  I often find I have more success with shallots than with onions.  Maybe because the manner of growing lends itself better to being rolled on than a traditional onion.

Also managed to get some useful items of "kit" - a new minimum/maximum thermometer, as I intend to be more diligent in tracking the weather this year, some rather fetching lime green knee pads, in case I fall over and land on my back, and one of those shepherd's crook shaped metal stakes, for hanging a lantern outside the shed.

Did some more girly indulgent shopping too in the sales.  Before I broke my ankle, I treated myself to a couple of lovely metal pens from Paperchase.  It's this year's little step towards sustainability.  I decided it would be better to use one or two distinct pens I loved than just go through a mass of anonymous plastic pens.  OK, the refills are still made of plastic, but far less than a normal pen.  Makes writing stuff more of a "me time" thing too.  I got Howard one of their pens too, with an owl motif, which he now uses when a pencil isn't permanent enough.

I also now have a veritable muted rainbow of pairs of skinny legged trousers, as these are the style that fits under the plastic cast contraption (when they start looking shabby, they'll be perfect for gardening as there's no spare fabric to trip over)  more long socks for the same reason, and a couple more polo necked jumpers in case we have a cold snap.  Also found something close to a perfect bag for me - tan coloured, reasonably large with several useful pockets.  It also has decent size handles to go over my shoulder whilst wear a coat, AND a strap to go across the body, the most practical way for me to carry a bag right now.  OK - I have loads of bags.  But I have had some of those for several years and they do get a fair amount of use without being wigged completely.  I have another favourite bag, but it's impractical whilst I need both hands to balance.  And a copper coloured nail enamel.  Sitting around doing not much has meant my nails have stayed presentable.

We'll see how long that last once I'm up on my feet properly and gardening again.

Routines, rituals and ceremonies

Sitting here waiting for the kettle to boil for another cup of tea.

Most years around this time I'd be brewing a tea, but nearly always over the allotment.  No chance of that this year, or of the other thing I always do on Christmas day - walk down to the lake, round to the woods and then back.  Out of the question - too many steep slopes and uneven paths to risk me shuffling down there.

Managed my first walk out of the house yesterday, with Howard escorting / propping me up.  Took the bus into Enfield, but walked along the street and caught the bus from the next stop along rather than walk up the steep hill (and slippery path) to the nearest stop.  With the exception of M&S food, things were far more quiet than either of us expected - mind you, the local Rotary Club playing "jolly" festive songs from Des O'Connor may has caused the mass exodus.  No sign of the usual panic and hysteria in Waitrose either - not even a queue at the cheese counter.

So I got through my first outing wearing the cast and using one crutch unscathed.  Next stage is to tackle a Tube journey ahead of returning to work in the New Year.

In all honesty, when there's just the two of you, going through the whole routine of Christmas seems pointless.  We exchanged cards and presents as always.  This year I've had more reason to be grateful for the things Howard has done than ever, and with little chance to find things for him outside of the house, have found everything online.  Wrapping paper was a struggle, so I relied on my old favourite - brown paper and brightly coloured Nutscene twine.  Trust me - it looks good in a "crafty" way.

Our take on the dinner is one step away from the traditional - duck, roast parsnips, cavali nero kale and mashed and baked sweet potato.  I usually do a steamed chocolate sponge pudding, but will leave that until another time, as I'm not yet active enough to justify that many calories.

Christmas itself lies midway between things that really matter to me.  Tomorrow there'll be horse racing to watch - the King George chase from Kempton.  That's a race chock full of memories, of the legendary horses who've won it, and of memories closer to home - sitting down with my Welsh grandfather to watch it and shutting out the domestic hubbub, or the times in the early 90's when I watched the race and hurtled down the street, across the Great North Road and made it to Underhill in time for the Barnet FC game.  Those matches had an atmosphere that seems to have been lost.  One year the Barnet fans behind the goal kept singing the theme from Rainbow, another year they brought squeaky toys along.

Above all, just before Christmas, there is the time that is most important to me - the Winter Solstice.  This house more or less faces west, and every year I light a candle in sight of the last rays of the setting (old) sun on Solstice Eve.  I then place this candle in a lantern and put it on an east facing windowsill overnight, to act as a beacon to guide the rising (new) sun the following morning.  A very simple act, but one that serves to focus my mind on the fact that days will soon start to lengthen, and it is time to seriously focus on preparing for growing next year's crops.

So why do I even begin to "do" Christmas?  Well I recently discovered that prior to the change in calendars, the Winter Solstice fell on 25th December, so it could be said the day is earth sacred anyway.  I like the day as it is a day when you have to take a step away from normal - no transport, no shops, TV schedules out of the window - you can't just go about your normal routine (OK - except for dealing with the chickens.  They were up & yelling at the same time as ever).  It's also a day for recalling your best memories of previous years.  The time I was jogged while adding brandy to my home made stuffing, and almost created an internal combustion goose, or when the roasting tin I cooked the turkey in expended in the heat of the oven and wedged itself in there so tight we had to wait until the bird was cold to release it.  Or back to childhood when my great uncle arrived in a bubble car - the model where the passenger sat in the front, and took me and my cousins in turn for a ride round Ladbroke Grove.  Best of all was the time we stayed at my mum's parents and my granddad (the one I watched the racing with) persuaded my dad to go into the loft with him and stomp about, pretending to be Santa and his reindeer.  We had snow on Christmas morning too that year.

Have fun, and take time to be happy.

Time to Think – Time to Plan

Well I’m still at home, though there has been some progress.  Went to the hospital to have the cast removed and a check to see how far the bone had healed.  

There’s something unnerving about having someone wield a miniature angle grinder perilously close to your flesh.  I could feel the disc tickling my skin.  I don’t care what the nurse said – that was more than just vibration.

The bone is mending, but not so much for me to get the all clear.  Having now seen the X-Ray, it's a much bigger break than I originally imagined.  But then when it first happened I didn't realise that the terms broken bone and fracture were interchangeable.  I honestly thought that the latter was a less serious injury.

I have now been put in a weight-bearing cast.  It’s a plastic contraption, somewhere between a ski boot and Darth Vader’s helmet. It is lined with a spongey material that acts almost like a sling for the foot, so I can stand in comfort, and with a couple of weeks’ more practice, will be able to walk without doing damage to anything.  They are made in different shoe sizes, though they don’t seem to make allowances for the stubbier of leg – it goes right up to my knee, though from the illustration on the package it was taken out of, it looks like it is meant to be calf length.

So it looks like I’m at home, gradually expanding my territory beyond the bedroom and bathroom, until the New Year.  At least I now have become accustomed to spending my days resting and recovering.  After such a shock, I wasn't prepared for the the restrictions my injury put on me.  I couldn't just pop to the garden, wander to the kitchen and put the kettle on, check in the larder or look through the bookcase.  Everything I did, ate or drank had to be planned and laid out for me by Howard before he left for work.  After a few days he bought an electric kettle and put it on the landing so I could at least make my own tea.  But with 95% of my day spent sitting in bed with my leg propped up, my only entertainment was the TV and my choice of books for the day.  With help, and eventually by dragging myself propped up by the wall, I could make it to the desk, but the weight of the cast made sitting painful after a short while.  After a few days moping, frustrated and bored and railing against my imprisonment, I resolved to spend my time reading and making plans for the next year.

We all have to accept that hard times are here for the foreseeable future, made harder by a government hell bent on punishing anyone who is not already rich.  So careful use of resources will be essential.  Living as if rationing was in place may be on the extreme side, but the less excess spending at the moment, the better.

So I’ve taken the opportunity to write down assorted plans.  Initially plans for the allotment and the garden, but also for other aspects of our life.  I’m putting together lists of things we need in the house, from medications, through groceries and household goods, right through to office stationery, the magazines and newspapers we read, the shades of paint on the walls and various other places.

While I’ve been laid up, Howard has been forced to take on all domestic tasks.  He has no issue with that, having lived on his own.  But he lacks confidence in one aspect of cooking – the evening meal.  He will happily bake, make breakfast lunch and pudding, but as I normally arrive home ahead of him, I take charge of this.  So I have been writing down step by step instructions, shopping lists and follow up meal plans (using the leftovers).  As these may be useful in the future, I have kept them neatly in a file.

Going back to the lists, I know many view magazines as a luxury, but being stuck in bed most of the day for several weeks now, light but instructive reading has proved essential.  I’m not much of a fiction reader, so even “worthy” literature is of little interest to me.  With the exception of the Barry Pilton Abernant books (which could easily be Welsh roman a clefs), the only fiction I will gladly read contains illustrations by E.H. Shepherd.  So to save money on magazines, we’ve been taking advantage of Smiths money off vouchers, and lately I’ve been taking out subscriptions whenever I see a really good offer.  Getting them sent to the house rather than going out and buying them saves impulse buying through boredom.

The past few weeks I haven’t had to worry about what I’m wearing either, with the exception of trips to the hospital and a couple of days out.  I’ve spent my time in warm sweatshirt tops and fleeces, with baggy tracksuit trousers instead of smart office wear.  It has given me the time to take stock of what clothes I have, what needs replacing, what can be relegated to gardening wear, what can be donated to charity and what has reached the end of the road.  I know for certain I don’t need to buy another dark brown jumper for a couple of years, but my sock drawer needs a drastic sort out.  Especially as up until today I’ve only been wearing one at a time.