Big Change There Then

It used to be that, when I phoned my doctor's surgery for an appointment, there wouldn't be one available for days. With government targets to see every patient within 48 hours, the surgery changed its booking procedure. You had to phone in on the day. The lines opened (if you were lucky) at 8am, and because they were engaged constantly for the next 20 minutes, even if you eventually got through, there were no appointments available. Usually I found that I had to leave for work. If I then tried to phone later, I would almost get laughed off the line.

So neither system worked well. Without informing patients, however, the practice reverted to the old system. Recent experiences made me suspect this, however. So when I phoned on Wednesday to try to book an appointment for Friday, I asked if this was now possible. The receptionist was baffled. "We've never had the system here where you phone in on the day," she said. I assured her that they had. She replied, "Well not in the 6 months I've been here."

Six months! I've been a patient there for well over 30 years, and she thinks that the systems of the last 6 months are set in stone and have been in effect since the dawn of time.

The 48-hour appointment target is being scrapped by our wonderful, caring new government. As if I'm going to notice the difference. The first appointment I could get was for 7pm tomorrow. That's 6 days - while the 48-hour system still applied.

Don't know who I'm seeing but if it's Dr Quyen Nguyen:

(the only picture of one of the practice doctors I could find) I think he may get my opinion, whether he likes it or not.

A Word About Laundries

I don't know what brought this to my mind, but in US TV programmes, there are often laundries featured, usually as a way to track items that help the investigation. It seems that ordinary people send their shirts and linen, to name but two, to laundries for, well laundering.



Private people, by and large, don't do this in the UK. You might take things to the launderette or the dry cleaner's. You might do them yourself in your own washing machine (laundry rooms in basements of apartment blocks do not exist either). You may pay someone to come in and do them for you. You don't send them to a laundry.

Maybe restaurants use them. Perhaps some hotels or even hospitals do (though hospitals usually have their own laundries).



It's the same with concierges. Council flats used to have caretakers onsite. So did schools. Economy measures years ago phased them out.

It always strikes me as strange how two countries with a common root end up growing into such different plants.

Bobby Buys Val A Gift

"I have a list of things Val might like."


"How about one of these pictures you have for sale?"


"Most of the things on this list are just not good enough for Val."


"What on earth can I get her?"


"Do you think the pictures in this gallery would be more to her liking?"


"I bought her this necklace, but now I'm not so sure."


"It doesn't need to be that strong, I'm not planning to throttle her with it!"


"Maybe I should get these beads instead?"


"OK. I've got it. This pose will please her just fine."

New Episode

I've just published a new episode over at http://aftermajorcase.blogspot.com

Safer but still not enough

So that I could clean out the chicken coop and run, I had to let the girls out into the garden again today for the first time since the foxes tried to make a meal out of their sisters.

I moved the add-on run into the garden, something I will not be able to do very often, as with one person doing it, the corners move and will one day weaken and come apart. So I have spent today looking for a solution - a fold-up run that I can just put out when I need it.

This is the narrow space between my "woodland trees" where it will have to fit:




The girls enjoyed their slightly limited foray into the natural world. Poppy remains the boss, and Pansy (AKA Tinkerbell) follows her slavishly. She only gets the occasional peck for her trouble.



That's Poppy on the left, and Pansy on the right. Pansy is bigger, but neither of them seems to realise that!

Planning the Perfect Date

Bobby has a problem.

"Has anyone seen Val?"


"This is where I last saw her."


"I made this gizmo so I can get into her house."


"I found out where she lives by looking on the internet."


"I suppose I could climb in through the bedroom window."


"Hey, look! There she is!"


"Now I have to find the perfect gift."


"Do you think she'd like an invitation to kneel between my legs?"


"I thought I'd dress up in my best uniform for our date."

Island Life

Ah, to live on a desert island with The Man.

"I arrest you on suspicion of poor decorating taste."


"Lord, that wallpaper was so loud I had to wear earphones.I still have a headache."


Now that's what I call a Sound Body.


Bobby practises his one-handed sign language (yes, it does exist)


Bobby can't decide if he should let Connie kiss him. (How perfect is this picture?)


Checking out a nice dark corner for our tryst.


Still thinking about that kiss.


"Or we could have a dance."


Oh, woof!

New Find

I went to the West End today to do some shopping. Of course, while looking for DVDs for my student, I had to see if anything Vincent was in stock. No Staten Island, but a UK release version of The Narrows was on the shelves. I hadn't noticed it had been issued, but then I do have the US version.

Of course, I had to buy a copy, not least because this here Sony computer cannot be manipulated to play other regions' DVDs.

And then, it was there, so who am I to say no?

It was £9.99. A bargain at half the price.

In Circles

He'd easily run rings round me.

Life, but not Vincent

Not yet. I'm not in the right place yet.

Yesterday his nurse and I took my student with ALD to the theatre to see The Tempest. They were pretty true to the text, even though most of the audience was under 11. Alex was the only older student there. He had audio description headphones, as he cannot see the stage even from a couple of feet away. I'd like to say he enjoyed it, but it really wasn't possible to tell. He was sick a couple of times before we set out, then again in the car.

Today I had to take my cat Amber for her six-weekly kidney jab, so I decided to ask the vet to arrange a chicken cremation. Unfortunately I cannot have the ashes back as chickens are classed as livestock, and it is not permitted. Amber was uncharacteristically angelic. I wonder what she's up to?

At 6.30 there was a street meeting with the safer neighbourhood police team. As usual it was pretty poorly attended (I suppose that could be classed as good, meaning people don't have many concerns) but I thought I ought to go, as a local assembly co-ordinator. There were a few people asking for information or advice. I'm not a great lover of the police - almost have the scars to prove my demonstrating past - but these are a pretty OK bunch.

There were quite a lot of drivers who looked at the gathering as if wondering what crime had been committed by whom. One lowered his mobile phone so as not to be caught using it while driving (which is illegal over here) but didn't even wait to be past before lifting it back to his ear.

Coincidentally, the newspaper today had a query in its question-and-answer section about what you should do if you see someone texting while driving. One tongue-in-cheek answer said, Take a photo of them on your mobile phone camera as you overtake them.

Mmm, must try that one...

Sorry

I'm still feeling pretty depressed, can't imagine writing witty captions or even choosing Vincent pictures to post. I don't know if I'll feel like visitng all your blogs, but if I do, I don't think I have the heart to comment.

Love you all, and thank you for your condolences. It doesn't take away the horror of what happened to those poor little girls. And it was my fault. I gave the fox the opportunity and she took it. And she is still looking for another chance to finish off what she started.

I'm so sorry, my darlings

I just didn't believe. How could a fox snatch you in a few minutes? It was 3.30 in the afternoon. I let you out then left you alone to do a couple of things indoors. I was on the toilet when I heard your distress. I couldn't get outside quickly enough.

Daisy, you were missing. Rosie, I found you dying. A fox had done its worst.

Only Poppy was left. I phoned the rescue people for advice. They said Poppy would not be happy alone.

I went to the garden centre to buy you a friend, but you just seem to want to bully her.

It's all my fault. Now I believe. But for you it's too late.

Goodbye my sweet little darlings. You thought you'd found heaven. Maybe now you really have. (If only I believed that.)

Physician Heal Thyself

Twenty-something years ago, I was at a party at the new house of some friends. They had just moved into this palatial residence:


I didn't know they had a pool, so I had not brought a swimming costume.



While standing around discussing with another guest whether we ought to skinny dip, a voice behind us joined in. When I turned around, I saw this guy:

Glenn Wilson

Well, he was 20+ years younger, and so was I , but he was short, dumpy and bearded. I was gorgeous, if I do say so myself.

He questioned me about various personal matters, including the proposed skinny dip, and whether I would have a bath with a partner.

I blew him off with a comment about my then boyfriend who, at 6'4", was far too tall to fit in my bath all by himself, let alone with me as well.

I was a bit gobsmacked. Later, I mentioned the conversation to someone else. "You know what he does, don't you?" No, I didn't. "He's a sex psychologist." !!!

Over the years, I have seen him proffer his expertise on TV several times, and always cringed.

The party-giver later told me the story of how, at their previous house, which had woodland behind it, he (a married man) had taken a likely lady into their woods, and his car got stuck in the mud. He had to call them out after midnight to help him release the vehicle.

What a creep.

You can read more about him here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glenn_Wilson_(psychologist)

I bet he wrote it himself.

Making Us Crazy

"No, really, look it up: Bobby - sexiest; most handsome,"

"What am I hiding in my hand? You're hoping it's a condom?"


"Why are you so upset that Katya would have preferred me to your ugly old mug?"


"I love to show off my nice, smooth neck. It drives the Vixens wild."


"Is this my best side?"


Det. Goren casually lets his jacket fall open.

And so we are all driven to the edge of insanity. But nicely.

The story continues

The next chapter has just been posted. Today, the "adult" content warning is needed.

http://aftermajorcase.blogspot.com/

Post 2600

My, how these things zip by.

Latex-clad. Ahhh!


Talking of zips.


Unfair.


"This should be Val in my arms."


Oh, WOOOOOF!!


I've completely forgotten the caption I was going to give this picture. Anyone care?


Look at this picture again after I've published the next episode of Good Works!


"I told you it should be Val. She would love this wall-slamming stuff!"

Amen to that, Bobby.