Alt.Mustardland

Time for a new Thread,,
New page on the Diary.

Sorry to read thatsomebody was upset about your Editor Management, Always a problem with "Moving on". I woder the view of other contributors, and the Newer upcoming readers!

Moggy, = Ginger George. Some doubt about his age. His first owner was a Lady who had Dementure - I don't know if she was ill when her Daughter Brought her a Ginger Kitten, But it always seems to me that His Gingerness is shy, stays in hiding if a visitor arrives, and is generally nervous, so I suspect that unpleasant things happened in his kitteness. When His first owner went into a Nursing Home, His Daughter (the one who bought moggy for her Mum) faund that she was allergic to cats, although visiring her Muma couple of times a day, and feeding George showed no symptoms. I Think that she guessed He was about ten or twelve years old, but looking through my Vet Statements, He seems to have been here for at least Four Years since then. Vet says that He is not old: They had several feline patienfs in their twenties.
When I was a Kid, Cats only lived to be three or four years old. In Later days cats lived to be ten or so. Vet reckons that catfood is "Improved?", But of course in the 1940's (and fifties) Meat was rationed, and that pale pink tinned cat food (remember Kit-e-Kat) was mostly chalk, whilst Human's had Corned Beef?

Had trouble getting into here (is the first of the monmth significant?) - will now try posting....

We now have 3 threads for October. I'll delete mine. Sorry. I don't know how. Maybe our mod can do the honours. Our gig went well. I worked out during the week that one potato two potato song can be infiltrated by Keep the Home Fires burning. I didn't do it because we didn't do a final chorus

Three threads in October - I can't find any - What am I missing? Have I bullied someone out - You Rwth? Profuse apologies - come back at once.

No, I expect Black Bull has deleted mine and your other one. Once one has been replied to, there is no need for any others. I'm back in here where I belong.

I always wondered about corned beef. They were talking about petfood on You and Yours on Thursday. Apparently cats haveto have animal protein, but dogs can function on a vegan diet, being omnivorous. One of my tutors at university, had a tenancy cheap from a colleague going abroad on condition that he looked after the cat. It became ill, although he was feeding it. He was vegan and had been giving it baked beans. I fail to be entirely sympathetic once I know it survived and was apparently taken on by someone more servile. A dear friend keeps posting cartoons of Simon's Cat, which get more vicious every time. I don't see how a cat can be more vicious than totally self interested and narcissistic. The only creature that gets the better of it is the visiting kitten. I loved cats when I was a child, until friends of mine lived in a close where all the cats visited all the houses indiscriminately, stole each others' food, and 'possessed' everything worth having. I wouldn't be cruel to one, but I don't look for any emotion from one.

It seems to have developed into a habit of having a new thread on the first of the new month. A reminder to do some washing up perhaps, though looking for a clean spoon works for me. I lent my cooking manual to an orphan bachelor friend whose food had been cooked by his father. He returned it some time later with the remark that it kept telling him to serve up on a clean plate. I always tell novices to start the adventure by learning to cook their favourite food. They are bound to get bored with it eventually and try something else they like. I've poured boiling water on the beans ready to make bean stew in the slow cooker. It's nice being veggie. One dish with everything in it can be so easy if I remember to soak the dried veg. You can buy them ready soaked in cans at ENORMOUS expense, but I'm parsimonious.

Hi folks. Yes, I deleted the "surplus" October threads, it was pretty obvious which one had been adopted.

Nothing like a good corned beef, made by the butcher (or home-made), it's far superior to the universal pressed / sliced corned beef we get in tins. But not that many butchers go to the trouble of making their own, sadly.

Nothing Like Corned Beef ....! Well, I can agree with that - Nothing Like Corned beef.

Up in Langdon hills (Hills, Barely a mole hill) there id a Museum - it is one of the 1930's "Holiday Homes" aka, Sheds. One of the better one is . The Pantry includes a Tin of Corned Beef - yup a museum corn beef - wartime issue. Must be a couple of lb's - pre metricals - The Brand is Libby's and it originated in Canada. I have no idea how someone was fed well enough in wartime, not to have eaten it. My Own belief is that something that big, must have been for a Factory Canteen (or Land Army).
On a sadder note, My Cousin was on the Station Platform looking over the forest opposite, and saw an aircraft (Flying Fortress?) crash in those hills. - Strange how these odd thoughts are trigerred by something that I had nevers seen.

Nothing Like Corned Beef ....! Well, I can agree with that - Nothing Like Corned beef.

Up in Langdon hills (Hills, Barely a mole hill) there is a Museum - it is one of the 1930's "Holiday Homes" aka, Sheds. One of the better one is now the Museum. The Pantry includes a Tin of Corned Beef - yup a museum vintage corn beef - wartime issue. Must be a couple of lb's - pre metricals - The Brand is Libby's and it originated in Canada. I have no idea how someone was fed well enough in wartime, not to own but not have eaten it. My Own belief is that something that big, must have been for a Factory Canteen (or Land Army).
On a sadder note, My Cousin was on the Station Platform looking over the forest opposite, and saw an aircraft (Flying Fortress?) crash in those hills. - Strange how these odd thoughts are trigerred by something that I had nevers seen.
OK, raise the mood again. An Essex University had an Overnight observatory in another shed to study Badgers

Oh dear - I tried to correct something and repeated it?

Never mind.

People would stock up for a special occasion, then not have an occasion special enough to use all the stuff they were saving for. Sometimes they would share, but only if it was suitable. TA friends would laugh about ration packs dated 1916. A colleague at work, in the RAF during the War told about tins with no labels, but crayonned descriptions creatively inaccurate. One marked Strawberry Jam turned out to contain peas. Another passing acquaintance on a walk told me that aircrew due to fly that night would get the very best the station could provide. Any eggs available would go to aircrew on raid nights.

Yup, My Dad was in..... Well actually In Belgium and Germany (He was on our side, but in the post "Operation Market Garden" period), He was distributing RAF stores to the families of the Locals that they employed to restore the airfields that the RAF had recently destroyed? (He had a German Lorry driver) and yes, He did say that He was handing down unlabeled cans believed to be butter ... They were Steak and Kidney pies.
Dad reckons that He had the most important job in the Service - He drove the Tea-urn Lorry.

and ... As a babe-in-arms I was in an evacuating abode in Exmouth. The Home of a Widow who's Son was in the Navy. Mum tells me that when home "on leave" he told them not to waste food on him. The Navy had plenty and needed space, so disposed of the over victuling, and He was one of the party chucking a load of Cheddar Cheeses overboard into the Solent soon after they'd set sail.

That's scandalous, but believable. There were just as many fat cats then as now. But somehow when you get the distribution of large amounts of food skimming around the country, there were a lot of incompetents engaged in that rather than risking everyone's lives in letting them distribute armaments. Then the idiotic situation of having good intelligence but not wanting the other side to know so pretending ignorance for a while, and doing cynical dangerous things.

My gardener has been this afternoon, and we've been planting bulbs in the rain.

My dog is gradually getting better, but spurning the very expensive drugs for her recovery from her stroke. My brain hurts.

Yup, but the ... well, I suppose we would now call "Logistics", in the preparation. There were vehicles all over the place in UK, ready for the assault, with incredible (pre-computing) of getting supplies - incl food, to wherever the individ bods who were not necessarily in their allocated squadron - someone found him to deliver and instruct the waterproofing (Petrol, not Deisel) to get his vehicle through a possible beach Landing to suit his particular brand of Lorry, with instructions of how to remove it (and making sure the engine still worked) to drive on terra-firma. My Mum (evacuated to a Maternity Home way up North) in the pre-D-Day told me told me, was that Every Road and Roadside (A6) was filled with (Hidden??) Vehicles - especially Tanks, and even on the airfield - now called The East Midland Airport - that had been reserved for battle-damaged returning Bombers, so that they didn't crashl and ruin on more important airfields.

How did I get on to that?

Far more important is your Dog. Its a couple of days since I looked in here (been arm-wrestling with "Authority" - or more likely, trying to work out what I'm doing wrong on this 'pooter - is there computering advice on this board?) - there, I'm going off-topic again; Back to your Dog: How is she now?

After several blood tests and a second examination, the vet remarked on her strength, said her temperature was normal, and her kidneys were fine, liver OK for her age. Her weight was still the same as Monday, He tried to get her to eat, but she kept waving her head away. He thinks it's in her mind. She knows where her bowl is, so maybe I'll have to try another ham quiche from the bakery. She's thin but there is still flesh on her ribs. I've tried custard and porridge and grated cheese. She can't jump into the back of the car, so I have to lift her in, but she jumps out even if the balancing act is required to get all 4 legs working in harmony. She's a bit hesitant on the 2 steps up to the bungalow, but so am I, and we reach the door together.

I suppose a crash landing on a runway could wreck it, so ground staff would be alive to that possibility. takeoff from one and land on another would be a wise precaution. One chap I met at a funeral wake fascinated me and my daughter by telling us how they would install some equipment in hospitals while they were being built by helicopter. He was surprised to find someone who wasn't bored by logistics.

I'm sure that Black Bull could advise, with the right material facts, but there's nothing like hands on wisdom. Maybe a local teenager could help. Local community centre? Someone's grandchild. Is there a 'Next Door' network near you? Google Next door and see if you can find it.

Good to see that Your Dog is a little more sure footed (Did you say her Name was Cassie?). I can understand her being Cautious though.
Is dairy foods good for Canines?

Pootering. Don't think theres any hope in Stirring Neighbours and Schoolkids (I think I mensioned once before about my colleague. His wife had dies, and when returning to work he couldn't set the time switch on his cooker to have his dinner ready when he go home ... He had to borrow a schoolkid!

They used VERY Longreach cranes when they installed what was then "new" Head to foot Scanners in the Hospital I worked in. so I missed that spectacle, But ... Whilst I was at The Middlesex Hospital, A Helicoptor was installed on the roof of my next Hospital : Whitechapel. I had to go to a meeting in its usage. Apart from Comic Effect. The Boss (an ex-RAF airtraffic controller) Kept his Military Rank to Liase with London Airport, and London City airport. - Thus He was "Captain Kirk" - same name as a film icon.

She's eating again. only little bits at a time, but it's a start.

Love the Capain Kirk story.

Eating ... Obviously a Good thing. Animals are such a worry.

Captain Kirk - Thats only part of the Farce.... In those early days of Ambulance Helicoptor use, they needed Mobile Docs, not just Ambulace "Make stable", so they had one RN and one Army Doc. The Control of infection Nurse (actually a Higher position than the nane "Nurse" implies) had never met what (To her) was exceeding dubious brain-surgery in a muddy churchyard for example - "Well, if we had picked him up, he would be dead anyway!". or (if they found it useful) grab any passer-by to Help (i.e., they got an AA bloke to assist with Fluid drips, Policemen to run Lighting cables from a Police car that they'd stopped etc. and Scrounge tools and equipment fro any ambulance if they had used their (then) limited capacity). I didnt understand I didn't understand the tech argo of the time - "Barclaycard him?" means stealing his credit card to radio the number in, to get his name, address, and trace his hospital record - changed since then - there is a alternate Blood substitute that didn't need blood group matching. On at least one occasson they had made such a mess in the HEMS Theatre when there were a second Emergency at the same time, that they called in a Second Team. Police was sent for a High Speed Escort for another Theatre Superintendant. .... They couldn't keep up with her..... I was minding my own business elsewhere, when a copper asked me if I'd seen a woman on a motorbike speeding down The Mile End Road... I hadn't seen her, but I did find an arrogant phsician whinging that a Motorbike wass parked in "His" space.

Makes MASH look like a Sunday school outing.

Whingeing consultants abound. I remarked about a tiny but tempestuous Orthopaedic surgeon I was working for that I knew his age. In response to questions from office colleagues, I said "The same age as Peter Pan". They looked surprisingly impressed.

Makes MASH look like a Sunday school outing.

Whingeing consultants abound. I remarked about a tiny but tempestuous Orthopaedic surgeon I was working for that I knew his age. In response to questions from office colleagues, I said "The same age as Peter Pan". They looked surprisingly impressed.

I have been in hospital, and worked for several. The most Junior take all the Flack. One Morning (I was an inmate) two "Juniors" were visiting their various patients - of course, they had thousands of patients on ther list, but each day they will part from some patients, and be listed to new ones that they had never met? One of them came and asked how I was, whilst He looked for newcomers in his record book. The other Doctor announced somewhat formally "Doctor, That is My Patient". May have been a bit "Curt", but the point was made quickly and definately.
However... I was also involved with a Professors staff - including his Secretaries (Plural). His work was unquestionally Important, and He Himself was important, so would not distracted by Social interactions. - on Friday Night, He parked His Car (A big capacity with folded down seats to extend the load capacity). His Secretaries Guarded it from "Authority" on the double yellows lines, and supervised the porters loading of Boxes of notes/files/and batteries for his tape machines. The reverse on Monday when he returned audio tapes of several hundreds of case notes, and plans for his testing of an university-full of apprentices. I was incvolved of How many staff He needed and who was to be costed to the NHS, and/or Acedemic and/or His import into Multi-specialists Books. I have never seen anybody do so much - I had to read a Daysworth of typescript (How many Inches of Typescript, not reading it all), but I had to read a few - Almost makes you cry - and Very Delicately put (Instructions to a patients Local Specialist started, "I think we must now concentrate on his comfort so don't hold bac ....etc" and ended "I very much doubt if he will be well enough for the next appoint"). The man himself wasn't in sght - He was working with his ... well animals. (this time in overalls) He came back in time to meet Madame something-or0other A French Teacher who was Tech interpreter with a (rare in those days) movie TV phone to talk through a Japanese Surgeon. Then a few minutes later (Back in his £3000 guinea suit, and Bicycle clips?) to go to another hospital - A very Kind blke, but He never had time for niceties, nor to get away to meet Sundry royalnesses, and "Lunch" was a discussion re visiting top notch surgeons - Oh, yes, I saw his Payroll - Big by my standards, but certainly not the biggest.

I really miss not working.

Yes for every self important jobsworth of a consultant, you'd get colossi like this. My surgeon was tiny, not much taller than I was, and kind but could adjust his approach for the terrified, or the quirky but curious. He was really highly qualified, and was examiner for Fellowship level surgeons' finals at Edinburgh Medical school. They were going to televise my op because it was one of the first major keyhole surgery ops for this, but the TV people weren't ready in time. I arrived at the hospital the evening before my op to meet him in the doorway, panicking because he'd been looking for me, they hadn't been able to find a bed until then. I found later on that he was an inveterate jaywalker, and he stepped out in front of me when I was driving round the hospital grounds. I was going very slowly and was easily able to stop in time. He was a hero in my view.