Now Both Hands Can Be Kept Warm

Yes, this evening I have finished the second mitten, so I now have a pair. And before anybody comments about them not matching colourwise, it's impossible with the wool that I used. So instead of a pair of identical mittens, I have a pair of fraternal mittens.I am about to start work on another hat and matching mittens combination. This time they are going to be in autumn shades and will appear to be in a fair isle pattern although they are actually created by using two balls of the same yarn. I know that sounds silly, but wait and see how they turn out.

Getting Ready For Winter

Autumn is definitely here now. The leaves are changing colour and falling from the trees, its getting colder at night, and the days are noticeably shorter with it being dark much later in the morning and earlier in the evening.

It's my favourite time of year, but it means that winter is on its way, and I'm not so fond of winter. I haven't been feeling very well over the last month or so, but I have still been knitting. At the moment that knitting is in preparation for the winter.

I've finished ascarf and I have knitted half of a pair of

mittens.

I'm knitting a jumper in the same colourway, but in a thicker wool, and while I won't have enough of the wool used for the scarf and mittens to be able to knit a hat, I am hoping that there will be enough of the thicker wool to be able to complete the set.

The Comfort Of The Familiar

A few days ago I wrote about adaptations of books, whether it be for film, television or the theatre. After writing the post I began to think about some of the books that I mentioned and the result has been a desire to read some of them again.

R F Delderfield's A Horseman Riding By trilogy is a story that covers the life of Paul Craddock from 1902 when he is in hospital after being shot in the leg during the Boer War until his death in 1965. It is a monumental story covering a huge part of the 20th Century and relates the impact of the major events of the period on him, his family and the tenants of the farms on the estate in Devon that he buys with part of his inheritance from his father who had died when Paul was critically ill in an English hospital following two botched operations in South Africa after he had been wounded.

As a history of a way of life that existed in this country at that time and how major events like two World Wars changed that way of life, there is probably nothing that can better it. And it doesn't detract from the history by being a fictional account of what happened during that momentous period.

So, having ordered the books from a well-known website and the arrival of two of them yesterday (fortunately one of them was the first volume) I have begun reading Paul Craddock's story again. I first read them after seeing the BBC adaptation of the first volume in the late 1970s, but they were from the library so having read them they had to be returned. Now that I am about to own all three volumes, I will be able to reread them whenever I want.

Reading has been one of the things that has comforted me over the last 11 years. It can be difficult at times, because depression can sometimes make it very difficult to concentrate. But reading something that I am already familiar with does mean that even if I don't always take in what I have been reading, I am familiar enough with the story to not lose out too much.

When you lose the most significant things in your life, the familiar can be life saving; so I shall read whenever I am able to and hope that the writer's skill as a storyteller can help to block out the things that make my life so difficult.

An Arm And A Leg

This morning I went to the opticians. I ought to go every two years but I'm afraid that time has run away with me and it is nearer three and a half years since my last visit but I had noticed a deterioration in my eyesight with my glasses on (I can't see to do anything without them) so I knew that I really shouldn't put it off for much longer.

I went to a branch of the opticians who in their advertising keep telling us that some poor fool should have gone to them, but not the branch that I had been to previously (I wasn't too happy about the staff there). Anyway, I arrived at the branch in another nearby part of London and was greeted by a very nice young lady who asked if she could help me. I explained that I had an appointment, but that I was quite a bit early (I did tell you the other day that I have this thing about getting everywhere early), so she checked the computer, printed off a few labels and then asked me to accompany her into a room for some checks.

Technology has moved on apace since the last time that I visited the optician and after sitting at two separate pieces of apparatus, the first was to get a rough reading on my eyes so as to speed up the actual time spent with the optometrist and the second was to check for glaucoma, my current glasses were taken for checking to see what my previous prescription was and then I was invited to sit in the waiting area for my actual appointment with the optometrist.

I didn't have to wait too long before he came to collect me and after carefully examining each eye and giving them a clean bill of health the real part of the appointment took place. I noticed another change here from previous visits to the optician. No longer was I fitted with a heavy lump of metal that didn't sit on my nose or my ears properly so was very uncomfortable as had been the case for so many years, this time it was a lightweight plastic (?) device which could be altered to fit properly on nose and ears and this made the whole experience so much better.

After what seemed a really short period of time, and a relatively few number of alternative lenses being fitted into the contraption so that the best possible improvement to my vision could be brought about, the optometrist said that I did indeed need a new prescription. So my next port of call was to one of the optical assistants who was going to help me make a decision about what would be the best sort of frames for me bearing in mind that I needed varifocal lenses and not all of today's frames are suitable for them. He was a nice young man with whom I had a very interesting conversation about my handicrafts and my knitting in particular and he asked me if I had a website where I sold the things that I knitted.

It didn't actually take me too long to pick out a couple of pairs of frames that I liked, and that suited my face and colouring. Now was going to be the difficult part of the operation; deciding which ones I liked best. They were both the same price, so that wasn't going to be a key factor, they were neither the cheapest available nor by any means the most expensive, but I liked them both and deciding which I liked best was going to be difficult. It was at this point that the nice young man informed me that I didn't have to make a choice I could have both because the second set of glasses would be free because the frames that I had chosen were in the price range for that particular offer.

One of the problems with varifocal lenses is that they come in various qualities. When I had first required varifocals I was working and my eyes were very important to me because my eyesight was a very important factor in me being able to do my job. In addition, because I also needed to wear my glasses to be able to see to drive, the quality of the lenses was important so that not only could I see things clearly in the distance, but also when I was looking at the instruments and looking in the mirrors. To reduce the necessity to move my head to carry out these actions, I needed high-quality lenses to give the largest area possible that would give me clear vision in all circumstances. This meant that the lenses would be expensive. Having always had high-quality lenses, to ensure that I would be able to see in the same way that I was used to I needed to have lenses of the same quality that I had always had. In addition, I always had an anti-glare coating and reactive lenses so that bright sunlight would not cause me to squint and thus reduce my ability to see. Again factors that increased the price of the glasses.

I don't work anymore, so living on a pension means that buying things like glasses can make a real hole in my funds. This was the first time that I have been to the opticians and worried about how much this was going to cost me. Anyway the sums were done and I received a couple of discounts, a reduction in the price of the eye test and a £20 discount voucher, which meant that I was somewhat surprised to find that my new glasses were actually going to cost me less than I had paid for my last ones.

They still cost me an arm and a leg, but there isn't much that has gone down in price in the last three and a half years. Oh, and I pick them up in two weeks time.

Dropping A Stitch

It was a week ago today that I had the biopsy done on the strange area on my nose and that meant that today was the day for the removal of the single stitch that was put in the wound. One of the things that has constantly amazed me is how fine the suture thread was in comparison to others that I have had in the past, and I have to say that I have a truly impressive scar from an operation some years ago that is more than 6 inches in length and that was held together with blanket stitch and a very neat scar it is too.

Anyway, today I made my way to the surgery to see the practice nurse to have the stitch removed. As with last week, I kept my eyes very firmly closed because the last thing that I needed to see was a blade heading towards my eye. Last week, except for the terrible pain of the local anaesthetic, I didn't feel a thing, but I couldn't say the same about today.

The nurse tried to be as gentle as possible but because the suture was very firmly tied and was in an area where there wasn't much room for manoeuvre, it took several attempts to cut the stitch and the very sharp tip of the blade made contact with my nose several times before she managed to lift the knot with the tweezers, cut the stitch and then gently remove it.

The wound has healed very nicely although the area is still very red and sore, and it may be possible that more work will be needed at my next appointment at the hospital.

Now I just have to wait for the appointment letter to arrive, but bearing in mind that the last letter arrived after my appointment and the mail in London is completely up the creek because of the frequent strikes by the postal workers, I will ring the hospital next week to confirm when my appointment is going to be so that I make sure that I don't miss it.

Unravelling

Life, and my knitting, seem to be very difficult at the moment. Summoning up the energy to get out of bed seems to sap what little life I have left in me. It seems as though I am slowly unravelling and that is what has been happening to my knitting and crochet too.

This
has become this,and these
are now back to being giant balls of wool.

Adaptations - Are They Better Than The Book?

After having thoroughly enjoyed my night at the theatre watching Phantom of the Opera, I decided to watch the film version of the show this evening. I have watched it many times over the period that I have owned the DVD, although I must admit that I often indulge in some knitting or other handicraft when I watch it because, after all, it is the music that is the most important thing.

This led me to start thinking about the many books that have been turned into plays, television series, musicals, and films. Which are best? The original books or one of the other creations that have derived from it. So I started to compile a list of books that I have read that have also been presented in one or more of the other forms.

Perhaps the first thing that springs to mind is the Harry Potter books. There can be no doubt that these just cried out to be made into films, and the films are very good, but Joanne Rowling is such a good writer and she packed so much into the books, that the books definitely win here.

The next author whose work I am going to look at is R F Delderfield. I have read a number of his books including To Serve Them All My Days, Diana, and the Horseman Riding By trilogy all of which were serialised by the BBC in the 1980s. In the case of the first two books, the television adaptations were good, perhaps even excellent, in that they significantly followed the storyline rather accurately but for logistical reasons some changes were necessary. Perhaps the most significant change, which did impact on the story as it was portrayed on the screen, was in To Serve Them All My Days where the serial had both of David Powlett-Jones' twin daughters die in the car crash that also killed his wife, whilst in the book one of them, Grace, survived. The television production of A Horsemen Riding By concentrated solely on the first of the three books about Paul Craddock, and while a creditable attempt, again it was not able to convey the story to the depth and with the nuances that were present in the written word.

A few years ago I was shopping for some books to take on holiday with me and I managed to get The Phantom of the Opera as a deal with a couple of other books that I wanted to read. I have to say that I was more than a little disappointed in the book and for me the adaptation of it into the musical was the best thing that could have happened. Here we have an adaptation that is better than the original, probably because of the added dimension that is brought to the story by the addition of music.

As you know I also went to see Les Miserables recently. As a result of seeing the show many years ago I decided to get the book and read it. Again I took it on holiday with me; I used to do a lot of reading when I went on my holidays to Corfu. I'm afraid that I found the book dull and very heavy going. I read it all, but it wasn't read while I was on holiday, it had to wait until I was in hospital and needed something to help to while away the hours of the day and night. Obviously the musical does not contain everything that is in the book, but it does cover the main focus of the story and does it exceedingly well. So I would say that the adaptation of Les Miserables into a musical was a brilliant idea, and millions of people around the world seem to agree with me.

The last book that I am going to consider in this look at adaptations to another medium is Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Probably the subject of more adaptations for film, television and the stage than any other book, the BBC alone has been responsible for five adaptations over the years. The book will always been seen as a masterpiece, and rightly so, but a masterpiece adaptation has also been created. Most, if not all, books will suffer greatly when a film adaptation is made; it is impossible to tell the story properly in a couple of hours and the most recent film adaptation starring Keira Knightley is just such a case in point. But television adaptations can be different and the 1995 BBC adaptation starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle can bear very close comparison to the book and stands out as a major achievement in the art of creating adaptations.

So, in answer to my original question, I have to say that I think that it depends. Usually the book is best, sometimes the adapted medium produces something that is better than the original, but only because of flaws in the original, and sometimes an adaptation is created that is every bit as great as the original book because of a combination of brilliant scriptwriting and inspired casting.

Almost A Black Eye

This morning I had an appointment with my GP to review the ambulatory blood pressure test that I had a few weeks back. When he greeted me he commented on my hospital appointment and I related the story of only finding out about it by chance, and then the letter giving details of the appointment arriving a couple of hours after I got home after the appointment.

He asked me how long the plaster had to stay on and I said that I had been told that it could come off today so he decided that then would be a good time for its removal; I'm sure that the only reason that he said this was so that he could have a look at the wound. After a quick inspection we got on with the real reason for my appointment this morning.

It seems that I may have started to suffer from 'white coat syndrome' because being hooked up to the monitor for 24 hours showed that for much of the time my blood pressure was normal, or a little below normal, although there were some quite high spikes at times. Anyway it averaged out at 123/84 and he decided that a change in medication was not necessary. I then said that I thought that I was due for a blood test, and on checking my records it turned out that I was right so I now have an appointment for a fasting bloods test in a few days time.

One of the problems of having had the plaster removed from my nose is that my glasses are causing me some problems on the wound. I suppose that this was only to be expected considering where it was, but I need my glasses to see to do just about anything other than walking along the street so I knew that I was going to have some difficulties.

I was first taken to see an optician when I was about five years old. I have no idea why I was taken, but I do vaguely remember going and some aspects of the tests that were carried out. The optician didn't find anything to be worried about so I carried on without glasses until I was about 13. My mother decided that another trip to the optician was required when she found me trying to thread a needle with the thread and needle both being held at arm's length and my still not being able to get either object close to the other. Being somewhat older than I was on my first visit, I could answer the questions posed of me a little better and it was found that I was extremely long sighted; in fact, so long sighted that it would be more usual for someone in their 70s or 80s to have eyesight like mine. So glasses were necessary for me to perform any function near at hand such as reading, knitting and embroidery.

Like many youngsters, and particularly teenage girls, I didn't like wearing glasses and I was constantly being told off for not wearing them, but I continued to go to the optician regularly and invariably a change of prescription was necessary. About six months after my husband died, I went for an appointment and said that one of the things that I had noticed recently was that I was having difficulty reading road signs when I was driving. As a result of this examination it was found that my near sight was starting to become a problem. I was going to need to wear glasses when I was driving but if I had a separate pair for driving the lenses in them would mean that I would no longer be able to read the instruments in the car. The only solution was going to be either bifocals or varifocals. I decided to opt for varifocals and that is what I have had ever since.

One of the problems with wearing varifocals and having a wound on your nose at the exact spot where your glasses should sit is that unlike single vision glasses you cannot slip them down your nose a little. Varifocal lenses are ground so that perfect vision will only be possible when the glasses are positioned correctly in relation to your eyes and this means that at the moment I am having a few problems. I can't wear my glasses in the correct position because of the wound, but without them I am unable to do just about anything, so I have compromised a little and I'm wearing them a little further down my nose than I should and accepting that things are not quite as in focus as normal. Hopefully this state of affairs shouldn't last for too long.

So what about the black eye? Well, I rarely look at myself in the mirror (I generally don't particularly like what I see) but I wanted to have a look at the wound for myself. This proved to be a little difficult because without my glasses everything was out of focus but with them on the wound was not visible. I found a magnifying mirror (I use it when I attempt to put eye make-up on because I can't see otherwise) and tried for a view. Have you ever tried to look at something on the side of your nose with a mirror when your eyes don't actually move round far enough to allow you to see the object you want to examine? I struggled, but all I could see was a huge area of bruising on my nose and extending up towards my eye. It's taking aspirin daily that does it. Bruises are more common and are usually larger than would normally occur and the problem is that they get larger over the first few days rather than receding as would be the norm. My 'almost a black eye' could very well turn out to be the real thing tomorrow so I think that I will steer clear of mirrors for a few days until the bruising starts to dissipate.

Conkers

About this time last year I wrote a post about the abundance of conkers on the horse chestnut trees in London. I ascribed the heavy crop to the wet summer that we had in 2008 allowing the trees to maintain and nourish their fruit. As I said back then, London is a very green city, and like last year we have had to endure a pretty wet summer this year, so conditions have been very similar for the development of fruit on the trees.

Unlike last year, I now tend to have a camera in my handbag at all times so that I can take photographs as the whim arises. As autumn takes the place of summer, the leaves on the trees are starting to change colour and shrivel and die. This means that yesterday I was able to take a photograph of some of the conkers on one of the horse chestnut trees nearest my home without them being masked by the trees magnificent leaves.Each of the three fruit visible was approximately two inches in diameter, and the one that is in the process of splitting its skin to reveal the shiny conker within shows that the skin is not too thick which means that the conkers will be of a fair size.

Oh yes, autumn can be a beautiful time of year.

A Bit Of A Nose Job

Last night (actually it was the early hours of this morning) I was unable to sleep so I was sitting at the computer drafting a post for this blog (I haven't finished it yet, but will probably do so tonight or tomorrow) when I remembered that I needed to make an appointment to see my GP because the results of my ambulatory blood pressure test were in. So I logged into the website to see if there were any appointments available and while I was there I happened to look at the 'Letters' section of my medical records and saw that a fax had been scanned in relating to my referral under the 'two week rule'. Opening this item I was horrified to see that the hospital appointment was this morning and had I not yet received a letter from the hospital informing me of this fact.

So, it was a change of plans for today and a trip to the hospital to see the consultant dermatologist for him to have a look at the area on my nose that has been causing me so much trouble over the last couple of months. I arrived early (I always do, I am a bit of an early freak) and as luck would have it I was taken into the consulting room at least 20 minutes before my appointment time. I sat there for a couple of minutes and then the consultant arrived with his SHO and he took the usual history; illnesses, medication that I am taking, how long had I been troubled by this strange area on my nose. Then it was onto the examination couch for him to have a look at it under magnification and to prod it and stretch it and generally have a good feel at it.

The diagnosis? Probably a basal cell carcinoma. Then he made a small mark on my nose and told the SHO that he wanted a biopsy taken and that I should go back to see him in three weeks. After that I was escorted to the operating theatre and the biopsy was done. There was the usual briefing about what exactly was going to happen, I was made comfortable on the operating couch, and asked to sign the consent form. This was the first problem. I had taken my glasses off and put them in my handbag before getting on to the couch and now I couldn't see where I needed to sign on the form. So the very nice SHO pointed me in the right direction on the form and I scribbled something that experience tells me was probably a pretty good attempt at my signature.

Then I was covered with some towels to ensure that my clothes would not be covered in blood and told that the local anaesthetic was to be administered. The area where the biopsy was to be taken was very near my left eye and it was suggested that because of the bright lights that would be shining on the area I might like to close my eyes. I was going to do exactly that anyway because there was no way that I was going to watch a needle approaching my eye; I'm afraid that I am not very good when it comes to injections of any sort and local anaesthetics in particular. There is no doubt that this injection was the most painful part of the whole procedure, for after a few minutes the area was completely numb and tests to see whether I could feel anything sharp touching the area showed that the anaesthetic had done its job. The biopsy was taken and then it was a case of trying to stop some of the bleeding sufficiently for a stitch to be inserted. I take aspirin every day because I have an unusual form of angina and this means that it can be quite difficult to stop bleeding sometimes, and today was one of those occasions.

Eventually the flow slowed enough for the stitch to be put in place, with some difficulty because of the strange location of the offending area, some antibiotic gel was placed on the wound and I was finished. There was the offer of a plaster to put on the wound but I declined until I tried to put my glasses on and found that even with the effects of the local anaesthetic still present I could feel that this was not going to be easy. So, the decision was made that a plaster would be necessary, but again because of the position of the wound and its proximity to my eye, some surgery would be necessary on the plaster to enable it to cover the wound but at the same time make sure that it did not affect my eye. Then it was off to the reception desk to hand in the paperwork about my follow-up appointment, the letter for which will be sent to me soon (I hope).

It is now some hours since the procedure was carried out and the effects of the anaesthetic have worn off and the wound is now giving me some pain. I've taken paracetamol for the pain, as instructed, I've made an appointment with the practice nurse to have the stitch removed next Thursday, and I am hoping that I can manage to get some sleep tonight to make up for all that I missed last night.

Because I had not received the letter from the hospital telling me about my appointment, in the normal course of events I would have missed it and been marked as a 'did not attend'. The fact that I have online access to my GP medical records meant that I found out about the appointment in time to be able to attend, so the hospital's time was not wasted in me not turning up and becoming an addition to the statistics of 'no shows'. This means that I will have another example of the benefits of online record access when I give my next presentation.

About an hour and a half after I got back home from the hospital the postman delivered a letter. Yes, you've guessed. It was the letter giving me details of my appointment.