NANNY STATE

Being a nanny it’s down to me to ensure my grandson is showered with love and presents every time I visit so of course I’m going to turn up with a rocking horse and xylophone because even though he’s only 6 months old, he’ll be riding and banging out a tune or two in no time.  Kids are so advanced these days!

 

Music prodigy at only 6 months

In training for the Grand National

The adorable little munchkin loves his nanny.  He almost blew my leg off with a gigantic fart that could be heard as far as Weymouth, the little darling.  Ahh!  That’s what being a nanny is all about - being used as a dribble or fart pad for the under 5s. 

 

Baby love

And when he’s 25, he’ll no doubt be tapping me up for a new car or deposit on a flat and blaming his smelly farts on his incontinent old granny.  Dear old nanny, always good for a tenner. 

Growing up fast, I can’t believe the chubba bubba is now 6 months old.  How the time has flown!

BEAN THERE, DONE THAT

I may be 60 but I can clearly remember the first-time thrill of planting beans all those years ago when I first discovered a love of gardening.  We may have had wars, pandemics and general financial craziness since then but the excitement of growing your own veg has not diminished with time.  

I still get a shiver down my spine when I see those tiny dried beans burst forth from the soil, little leaves quivering uncertainly in the sunshine.

 

Look!  They've emerged

Every day you inspect your patch diligently, a green-fingered mother lovingly searching for signs of tiny beany offspring.  Oh, the delight in finding a flower or a green sliver of beaniness poking through the foliage!

 

Tiny beany babies

Getting bigger

You wait with eager anticipation, fighting off snails or anything else that might snatch away your veggie victory until eventually there comes a day when your efforts are finally rewarded with a batch of deliciously long, plump green beans.

 

Bean production now in full swing

Yesterday I picked our very first bunch of dwarf green beans and there’s plenty more where that came from. 

 

Beans for dinner

It’s beanz meanz summer’s here and bursting with goodness!

NHS 75th BIRTHDAY

So today is the NHS’s 75^th birthday.  Whoop-de-doo!  Forgive me for not sounding that enthused but I’m sure you’ll appreciate that I and the 7 million other buggers currently stuck on NHS waiting lists are not in a condition to jump for joy.  Many of us can barely move! 

Imagine if the NHS birthday committee had to organise a celebration along the same lines the NHS is currently run on.  Things could go something like this: 

Caller has been on hold for 40 minutes listening to Bill Withers crooning ‘Lovely Day’ when they are unexpectedly connected to a real human being …. 

NHS birthday party line, how may I help you?

You’d like to see someone about a birthday party.  I can offer you a telephone birthday party in 3 weeks’ time.  Our remote fone parties or ‘farties’ include genuine party popper sounds, singing, clapping and candle blowing all as standard. 

We’ll send through a party invitation link to your smartphone. 

You don’t have a smartphone?  Loser!  We’ve gone all high tech now to cut costs, make your luddite life difficult and generate money that we can then spend on prescribing ballet dancing or crochet classes that will do diddly squat for your health condition but make us feel good. 

Right.  Your birthday is today.  Let me see if we have any other party dates.  (tap, tap, tap) 

I can offer you a face-to-face belated birthday party tomorrow.  In Scotland.  Any good? 

Ahh, you’d rather see your own party doctor.  Well in that case ring back tomorrow, the next day, and every other day after that before 10 o’clock so that I can give you the same party runaround all over again.  

Goodbye!

 

I’ve been stuck on the NHS waiting list to see the neuro-surgery specialist for more than 14 months.  I suspect it’ll be my 75^th birthday before I finally get seen and then I’ll probably be told that my condition is all age related or so bad that it’s too late to treat. 

It took the No Help Service more than 18 months to decide to prescribe a pain killing medication called Gabapentin to alleviate the debilitating pain caused by cervical/spinal stenosis, a drug that has already made a considerable difference to my daily suffering.  Why they couldn’t have prescribed this sooner is anyone’s guess! 

I’d love to wish the NHS all the best but as their lack of action and inefficiency has left us feeling all the worst then sorry, I can't.

CORDYLINE RECOVERY

Almost 2 years ago when we began to re-vamp the back garden, we moved a beautiful dark coloured cordyline from the back of the house to the back flower bed. 

 

BEFORE - cordyline in the border behind the house

Miraculously it survived the move and appeared to have settled into its new home. 

 

AFTER - moved to the back flower bed

All was fine and dandy until this winter when long spells of rain followed by cold weather caused severe frost damage to the plant resulting in the top central core becoming brown, rotten and mushy.  Oh dear! 

 

Dry, rotting top core after slight pruning back

This is it, I thought.  Only a Lazarus moment is going to revive this bugger so I just left it as it was mushy and wilting until the worst of the weather had passed.  It’s easy to forget that some of our much-loved garden plants originate from warmer countries and are not used to the unpredictable British weather.  

Fast forward to spring time.  I carefully removed the mushy central core of the cordyline and pruned back some of the dead foliage.  Low and behold new side shoots have begun to grow so all is not lost.

 

New growth emerging from pruned dead foliage

Come winter, these new shoots will need protection with a few layers of gardening fleece or perhaps a bit of bubble wrap to keep the worst of the cold away.  Let’s hope it will grow into a lovely tall cordyline.