Last week, Andy and I attended a talk………a very informative talk about looking after sick or injured hedgehogs. They reckon if things don’t change (and I think they will), hedgehogs could be extinct in England by 2025. I personally love hedgehogs, but I’ve been lucky in life that they’ve always shared a garden with me, no matter where I’ve lived. I still get that thrill in my tummy when I see or hear one.

It may seem like a no-brainer that I’d love to look after hedgehogs………….oh, the satisfaction of releasing an endangered species back to the wild and knowing (perhaps rather smugly), that without you it wouldn’t be there, och, the joy of it.

But, then there’s the other side, the ones despite your best efforts are no more, the weeping that must surely follow…..I imagine you prepare for that when it happens and I’m sure the releases make up for it. But then I have practicalities to consider with my balance issues and clumsiness, things being of sync. Would I do more harm? It’s a confidence issue really, I know that.

Caring for hedgehogs is quite involved ‘Never give milk’ was a message that was drummed into us …..hedgehogs are lactose intolerant! I knew this having watched many wildlife programs in the ‘behind’ or past but never the less this message rang loud  and clear…….as was don’t disturb a nest or mummy hedgehog, and they usually give birth to odd numbers like three, five or seven, I didn’t know that……..did you? Is it common knowledge?

So watch this space……I probably will nurse hedgehogs, with Andy of course,he loves wildlife too. In fact he has this affinity with animals, he’s very calm. I’m a panicker, But I do love hedgehogs and I definitely wouldn’t give them milk.


Is it my age?

My husband and I sometimes go for breakfast, at a quiet little garden centre at Loddiswell, Devon…….about 10 miles (20 mins) away, from our home. It’s a very country lane drive,that sometimes has lorries…..Loddiswell doesn’t have big roads. Sometimes we get held up,when traffic is busy and  lorries are involved. Not surprising I needed a wee when we got there.

I headed to the loo on arrival. Andy, my hubster waited outside.🚾

On leaving the loo I was shocked and panicked to find the door completely jammed and it wouldn’t budge.

It was a half glazed door,  so I could see Andy  and  he could see me.

He made a hand gesture (Not the one you’re thinking of) waving and flexing his fingers. I  didn’t understand!

I looked at the other side……yes, the hinge side, for a handle,…….it was at this point I thought about screwdrivers? The bar on the door didn’t move when I depressed it…….when I say depressed, I don’t mean sad,though the door probably was a bit sad! I searched high and low for a handle, it was at this point Andy just pushed open the door.

It just didn’t even occur to me to ‘pull’ .

As I’m nearing my sixties ,I do experience more and more lapses of sense… is my age isn’t it?



I turned around to see who it was,who obviously knew us and had shouted a greeting.  I  was walking….carefully……..with my trusty husband,along the street, to go to the shop’s, husband..Andy had turned around too. There was a bit of an awkward moment……balance wise,I don’t have much! It’s easily lost when my counter weight (husband) gets distracted.

Neither of us recognised the young man,then we realised he was speaking, quite loudly, to someone on his mobile phone.

We encountered a couple more youths,  ignoring the world,and speaking loudly to an unseen body, on the other end of a mobile phone.

Sadly, we see young mums pushing pushchairs with their young offspring  on board for a nice country walk , ignoring the scenary and the child, giving all their attention to the mobile phone.

One of the the most disappointing things was, whilst we were walking at Wembury Point,a local beauty spot,overlooking the Channel…English Channel,  sunshine twinkling off the water,blue,cloudless sky and kestrals treading (whatever the air equivalent is) the air, a young toddler was desperately trying to get his mother’s attention but she was too engrossed in her phone. I couldn’t help thinking she’d regret that….So soon he’ll be grown-up.

Perhaps I don’t understand, I  too have a mobile phone,but I  can’t see the importance of using it whilst I’m out and about. To be honest, I don’t think I could talk on the phone and walk,I  have to concentrate on staying upright, cos of the balance imbuggerance. I have grown up in a different time,and well,it’s not unusual to criticise the younger generation …….it’s my job! I do think modern technology stops  folk noticing life going on….shouldn’t there be some kind of balance?



It doesn’t have to be like this!

Have you ever wondered why you suddenly feel so miserable.

I’m not talking clinical depression or other actual illness. I mean one minute it’s all perfectly, normal,happy,everyday life, then you turn on the television and within a couple  of  minutes, doom and gloom reigns.

Why does it seem so necessary for major sellers, to convince you to buy something through fear and dread? Surelyit doesn’t have to be like this?,

Personally, I’m more likely to buy something if I  feel happier.

I no longer buy newspapers, I don’t trust anything they say anyway, and I  don’t like the way they make me feel…..I so easily get upset. We don’t have the news on,  for the same reasons…..ever. but I still know what’s going on…..kind of,well I’m informed, I couldn’t have a conversation about it(not without crying anyway).

I recently heard, ‘there is more kindness than cruelty in the world’, more good things happen than bad,and there was another cheery thing too……..but I can’t remember it. What I’m trying to say is we only get a one sided view, so we all think the world is more inhospitable than it actually is.  Maybe we should all ignore the media, and I’m including all the rubbish posted on social media etc .

….and instead listen to our hearts, cos I think most of them are just fabulous!

Change of address.

My youngest son and his girlfriend, have just had their offer on a house accepted. I feel both happy and anxious for them. I  remember how stressful it all is, though actually I don’t feel stress this time, probably cos it’s not me moving….but all the same I don’t want them to have let downs or upsets. Being organised…..thats how to do it. The first time I moved I was in a right kerfuddled. Loads of boxes, all unmarked…..couldn’t find a kettle, milk cups, sheets, towels….nothing,and three hours in and getting tearful,grubby and tired -I just wanted a cup of tea, a bath and a good sleep. Both my sons were young Blake being four years old accepted everything and got on with it…….Luke was just a baby but I’d had the foresight to get organised with his stuff,with all his equipment being stuffed into a ‘Mothercaŕe’ changing bag.I was very late to bed that night. Then I learnt to  pack special survival boxes,with tea making equipment..and biscuits  got to be chocolate digestives ,bed making and bath stuff,oh and toilet rolls,lets not belittle their importance! And mark the boxes.Now it’s difficult to get a mortgage, they need a hefty deposit and repayments are practically their wages… does make me wonder why its so expensive these days? I mean we all need shelters,so why?Though we lived through a time houses got repossessed… indeed ours was. I wonder now if it was meant to happen….for the best I mean? The house I’ve ended up with,I  completely love.

Doctor online contd.

……sorry meant to save but accidentally published…..So many lovely buttons!

Anyway……I  was diagnosed with an ovarian tumor at twenty eight years,  which I didn’t even need treatment for, it was all encapsulated. In fact I recovered so fast and so well, all my Doctors were surprised. That’s marvellous but it did leave me with a lasting anxiety……I mean ANXIETY about my health.

Now any little symptom is checked, then double checked online, and I always think it’s the worst possible thing.

Of course, I’m not the only one who does this,but I would like to stop. Yet,we hear horror stories about  so anď so who suddenly  dropped dead,but we aren’t told the whole story cos it’s less sensational..not so gossip worthy.

Common sense should prevail, we have to remember _more good things happen than bad…….we don’t get told about them,of course.  But on a daily basis, it’s true!We really weren’t designed to live off bad news……and the more we hear it. and believe it_the worse our health becomes!

A Doctor once said, ‘if it sounds like a horse and looks like a horse, it’s probably a horse!


Doctor online

Dunno about you, but I  tend to check my health symptoms online. Of course it’s a stupid thing to do, it leaves me worried, depressed and helpless. When I  finally get to the Doctor  and get diagnosed with something far less dramatic than I thought,  I’m left feeling part relieved and part feeling, ‘no faith in the Doctor  ‘.

It’s so easy to  simply check your symptoms online,as much as Doctors don’t like you to diagnose yourself….quite rightly! They do actively encourage you to look online for information or even different  treatments.

So realistically,  it’s perfectly understandable people self diagnose.

The real problem is self medication.  With a  Doctors diagnoses or not. I wouldn’t have the guts to take anything I hadn’t bought in a chemists, I’m a little bit dubious about supermarket medicine……no offence….it’s just me.

So where is our health system heading, now you can even consult a Doctor online. I am confused by how things are going.

I’m beginning to wish I’d worked harder at school, so I could have had the qualifications to be a Doctor.

Though I do realise I wouldn’t like the hours, or responsibility,  or the training……Well, everything actually…….forget I even mentioned it!


Does anyone else have trouble with the word ‘perfect’? Well, not the word itself, but the definition…..the bit that says ‘flawless’ or ‘faultless’? I like the word ‘perfect’, I use it a lot, it’s a good word! When I look at nature, it’s completely perfect….flaws and all. So that being said must mean that some flaws are perfect too!

What often happens, I think, is that the ‘flawless’, ‘faultless’ state that people chase…….thinking it’s perfection, doesn’t exist-nor does the word that describes this state.

I use ‘perfect’ to mean, ideal, as good as it’s possible to be. It’s a lovely word. In fact the more I use it, the happier and more content I am, I don’t feel the stress I used to feel, just to try and be good enough!

Without realising I’ve found perfect, and it was right in front of me the whole time……of course there are things I want to change, but things are as good as they possibly can be at this moment in time.

I’d like to be able to say I’m happy, smiley and content all the time…………but I’m human ( or so I’ve been told). There’s still much that upsets me, or I wish weren’t happening or happened…’s a working progress or is it work in progress. But when I get a grip and freely use the ‘P’ word it does elevate my mood.

What makes me feel sad, is people feeling bad about themselves, striving to be ‘perfect’ without realising they already are!




Lately i’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad. We didn’t have a close relationship, or much of a relationship,  at all, if I’m honest.

My Dad, Albany Louis……..good name eh? why he was named after a place in America, is beyond me  , born and grew up on Dartmoor….in a house ,of course. He was rather chuffed to have been born in the same year as the actor James Stewart, and in later years assured his mortality was secured because James Stewart was still alive.

He was a great believer in fresh air and exercise, as a child he’d walk several miles across the moor in all weathers, to go to school. It made him ‘hale and hearty’,and he didn’t suffer ill health, obviously he did because he died but not until he was almost ninety.

I didn’t appreciate his knowledge of the natural world at the time, I wanted modern technology and the bustle of the city, but now, I think, it’s unbelievably priceless. He could recognise birds from their song, he knew what the weather was going to do, by sniffing the air, and detecting the direction of the wind. He could fix anything or certainly have a go. He taught himself many skills, including how to drive.  There was a time – in his eighties he drove round a roundabout the wrong way , luckily the roundabout was empty, though I was fair shook up, and no mistake! Actually one of his many jobs was as a bus driver, he drove the hospital bus, where I nursed and where he met my mother. Although, he did charm a couple of owls…..he could imitate owl hoots by blowing into his cupped hands. He showed me but as usual, I wasn’t paying attention.

He believed in simple health remedies, he once boiled up a pan of stinging nettles so he could drink the juice, which is disgusting apparently! I don’t quite know what to say……..but I saw  him walk passed my bedroom window (we lived in a bungalow, that Dad built….. he wasn’t a giant!) with a dandelion flower he was munching on……. he’d heard it was good for you. Mostly he used a chinese remedy, I think it was called ‘Flowers’ maybe? It stunk the house out!

During the war -WWII, he was an engine mechanic,  in the Royal Air Force ,mostly worked on spitfires. He loved planes and like birdsong, he could identify the plane by the sound of the engine. He saw unexplainable things in the night sky, as have I, so he kept an open mind…..and read some books, maybe strange books but who am I to say?

He was definitely a character, known by the villagers as Bert ….(the builder), he did a lot of building work and was always ‘tinkering’ and busy, I really quite admire him now and although genetically I’ve only inherited the uncontrollable giggles…..and an interest in the night sky, I’m quite proud to have the snippets of information he passed to me………that now make sense.