Since my unfortunate run-in with Macrodantin, my hair has been falling out quicker than ever. I can get a whole brush full in just two days. So I decided I would go 'no shampoo' to see if using fewer chemicals helped. There is also the concern about using chemicals on my body anyway, not to mention the impact on the environment of all those unnatural chemicals going into the water supply.
Yesterday was my first time. I decided to use the baking soda method, rather than buying a proprietary 'natural' shampoo. I must admit I was skeptical, especially when I saw how dilute the mixture was - 1 cup of water to 1 tablespoon bicarbonate of soda. But it did actually feel like something had been added to my hair once I had carefully poured it onto my wet hair. No lather of course, but I massaged the mixture into my scalp as recommended, then rinsed. To my surprise, the rinse water was dirty - so it did get rid of the dirt then! I also noticed that my hair was really 'squeaky' when I ran my fingers through it - much more so than when I use shampoo.
I then added 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar to a cup of water and poured that slowly over my hair too and left it on for about a minute. It smelled very vinegary; I was worried I would smell like a chip shop for the rest of the week! But I rinsed that off thoroughly, towel dreid my har gently and using a wide toothed brush, I combed it neatly. It was a lovely sunny day, so I let my hair dry naturally outside in the sunshine. By the time it was dry, the vinegary smell had disappeared.
At first, my hair felt kind of tacky, which wasnt a good sign. So I brushed it - and it was so soft and the curls were so bouncy (I have naturally curly hair). The tackiness went.
I had heard tales that using bicarb could make the hair very dry, so I was eager to see what it would be like the next day. Well, it is a little frizzy this morning, but it feels pretty clean and thicker than it has seemed for ages - that, I have been told, is because the chemical residues have been removed and my hair is no longer held down by them. It certainly feels different - it isnt dry, but it doesnt feel as smooth as it did with ordinary shampoo. Maybe that's a good thing? Anyway, for now, I am happy with it. Will I stay that way? Only time will tell.
Thursday, 24 May 2012
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Trust me, I'm a doctor, part 2
The antibiotic is called Macrodantin. This is a brand name for nitrofurantoin, which is also known as Furadantin and Macrobid. It is an entirely synthetic drug, specifically designed to attack unrinary tract infections. Some UTIs however are known to be resistant to it, and therefore it should NOT be prescribed unless there is a known UTI already in progress. One black mark against the doctor already.
The doses can be as little as 5mg or as high as 100mg. The most usual dose is 20mg; the maximum is 100mg in any 12 hours. I looked at the box - I had been prescribed 50mg tablets, but at the rate of 4 tablets a day, averaged 200mg per day, not quite as spread out as 100mg per 12 hours. But as I only managed three a day, that was less of an issue. What was an issue was I had been prescribed an antibiotic I didnt want, at a maximum dose, for an infection that had never been confirmed (and still hasnt, as it happens).
I read up about contra indications and side effects - the research was alarming! Nitrofurantoin can cause heart damage, lung damage (which could be permanent, though rarely fatal - great consolation), liver damage (and ought not to be prescribed to people who already have liver damage and could be fatal), hepatitis; it can cause a whole host of 'ordinary' symptoms too, such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, dry skin, exhaustion, excessive fatigue, rapd heart rate, difficulty breathing, chills and fevers, the list seemed endless - and I appeared to have been experiencing most of them! Some of the symptoms might not present themselves until a month (or sometimes more) after the drug is stopped. In general though, the drug has worked its way out of the body within 4-10 days. [Today is the 10th day since I stopped it]. Diarrhoea is made worse if proprietary meds are taken to alleviate it. One site I read even said that if your GP has prescribed this medicine, then they consider that the benefits outweight the risks. As far as I could tell, Dr N didnt think about it at all - she gave it as a 'blanket' prescription.
Having had such a bad experience (had the course of ABs been 7 days instead of three, the outcome might have been different), I decided to check on the painkiller the doctor had prescribed. She had told me it was to be taken with food (I had told her I wasnt eating) and that it could upset my stomach. When we got home, my husband looked at the prescription and noticed it contained not one, but two items. The first was the painkiller, which was Naproxen. The second was for a 'gastro resistant' drug 'to protect the lining of the stomach' (all of which is written on the actual prescription sheet). I had already told her the macrodantin had adversley affected my stomach, yet here she was giving me something else that could do the same or worse. So I thought a little further checking would be no bad thing.
Once again, what I found was alarming: She had prescribed a 14 day course, so not overly long, but the potential for damage in that time had been immense, especially given the state of my health when she decided to prescribe them. First of all, I had just told her I had been experiencing racing heart rate, yet Naproxen can increase the risk of life threatening heart or circulation problems, including heart attack or stroke. The risk becomes greater the longer the use.
I had also told her I had IBS. She had made it clear she didnt accept that diagnosis, but she did no tests to ascertain that it wasnt; and the one test she did do, to try to show it was something else, had come back clear. That is not even to mention that I had originally gone to see her because I had a bowel problem. Yet Naproxen can increase the risks of serious side effects on the stomach or intestines, including bleeding or perforation, which can be fatal. These effects can occur at any time and without warning while one is taking Naproxen.
Had I started taking these painkillers, in the weakened state I was in, I doubt I would be writing this - they would have finished me off! I am so glad I didnt need anything more than I was already taking and trusted my instincts not to fiull the prescription.
And by the way, I still havent received the results of the urine test, the x-ray (8 days) or the appointment for the abdominal scan (14 days). I think the 'S' in 'NHS' needs revisiting!
The doses can be as little as 5mg or as high as 100mg. The most usual dose is 20mg; the maximum is 100mg in any 12 hours. I looked at the box - I had been prescribed 50mg tablets, but at the rate of 4 tablets a day, averaged 200mg per day, not quite as spread out as 100mg per 12 hours. But as I only managed three a day, that was less of an issue. What was an issue was I had been prescribed an antibiotic I didnt want, at a maximum dose, for an infection that had never been confirmed (and still hasnt, as it happens).
I read up about contra indications and side effects - the research was alarming! Nitrofurantoin can cause heart damage, lung damage (which could be permanent, though rarely fatal - great consolation), liver damage (and ought not to be prescribed to people who already have liver damage and could be fatal), hepatitis; it can cause a whole host of 'ordinary' symptoms too, such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, dry skin, exhaustion, excessive fatigue, rapd heart rate, difficulty breathing, chills and fevers, the list seemed endless - and I appeared to have been experiencing most of them! Some of the symptoms might not present themselves until a month (or sometimes more) after the drug is stopped. In general though, the drug has worked its way out of the body within 4-10 days. [Today is the 10th day since I stopped it]. Diarrhoea is made worse if proprietary meds are taken to alleviate it. One site I read even said that if your GP has prescribed this medicine, then they consider that the benefits outweight the risks. As far as I could tell, Dr N didnt think about it at all - she gave it as a 'blanket' prescription.
Having had such a bad experience (had the course of ABs been 7 days instead of three, the outcome might have been different), I decided to check on the painkiller the doctor had prescribed. She had told me it was to be taken with food (I had told her I wasnt eating) and that it could upset my stomach. When we got home, my husband looked at the prescription and noticed it contained not one, but two items. The first was the painkiller, which was Naproxen. The second was for a 'gastro resistant' drug 'to protect the lining of the stomach' (all of which is written on the actual prescription sheet). I had already told her the macrodantin had adversley affected my stomach, yet here she was giving me something else that could do the same or worse. So I thought a little further checking would be no bad thing.
Once again, what I found was alarming: She had prescribed a 14 day course, so not overly long, but the potential for damage in that time had been immense, especially given the state of my health when she decided to prescribe them. First of all, I had just told her I had been experiencing racing heart rate, yet Naproxen can increase the risk of life threatening heart or circulation problems, including heart attack or stroke. The risk becomes greater the longer the use.
I had also told her I had IBS. She had made it clear she didnt accept that diagnosis, but she did no tests to ascertain that it wasnt; and the one test she did do, to try to show it was something else, had come back clear. That is not even to mention that I had originally gone to see her because I had a bowel problem. Yet Naproxen can increase the risks of serious side effects on the stomach or intestines, including bleeding or perforation, which can be fatal. These effects can occur at any time and without warning while one is taking Naproxen.
Had I started taking these painkillers, in the weakened state I was in, I doubt I would be writing this - they would have finished me off! I am so glad I didnt need anything more than I was already taking and trusted my instincts not to fiull the prescription.
And by the way, I still havent received the results of the urine test, the x-ray (8 days) or the appointment for the abdominal scan (14 days). I think the 'S' in 'NHS' needs revisiting!
Trust me, I'm a doctor
Around the middle of March, I got an abdominal pain. Nothing serious; in fact, I thought it was just an attack of IBS. None of the usual tricks got rid of it though, so on March 30th, I decided I ought to get it checked out by the doctor. It was uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable, so I walked down to the surgery (about a mile). I was eating normally, toilet habits were normal; I simply had a pain in the gut, so I wasnt worried at all.
The doctor decided to put me through a health MOT - checked blood pressure (well, actually, she relied on my own reading from a home device I have), checked my weight, asked questions about family health history (all of which should have been on my file anyway); she then checked my abdomen, before announcing that at least it wasnt appendicitis because if it was I wouldnt be so well. [With what transpired, she might as well have added 'so we will give you some tablets to make you really ill']
She had already ascertained that I was not happy taking tablets of any kind unless absolutely necessary, so I was a little taken aback when she said she wanted to prescribe some antibiotics and then asked me 'if that was all right'. I repeated that I didnt want them unless she felt they were absolutely necessary. She said it was something she prescribed as a 'blanket prescription' (her words) for all women who presented with similar symptoms. Well, I didnt think anyone prescribed antibiotics as a blanket thing at all any more, but she added that if I had a urinary tract infection (which it might be) then having the antibiotics might save time while I awaited the results of the blood tests she was going to send me for. One of those tests was for coeliac disease. I had already mentioned to her that I had IBS and her reaction was somewhat odd: 'who told you you have IBS?' Goodness, that took some thinking. It was over 30 years ago that I had been diagnosed by both a GP and a hospital. I eventually came up with the name of the GP, dredged from the recesses of time, Dr E. That was when she said 'well, I'm sending you for a blood test for coeliac disease'. Well, I already knew I didnt have coeliac disease, but what was the point in arguing? She also requested a urine test and an appointment for a scan at the hospital, 'to rule out ovarian cancer' as the cause of my bowel discomfort. Hmmmm.
I had the blood tests taken immediately by the practise nurse and got the prescription filled at the chemist next door, before walking back home. I started the tablets straight away - 1 tablet 4 times a day, with food, 'to aid absorption'. I had a three day supply. It was already lunch time, so four was going to be impossible that day, but I wasnt worried. As long as I took them constantly until they were all gone, everything should be fine.
I managed three tablets that day. But by 9pm, I was shivering uncontrollably and was freezing cold. This was the week of the hot temperatures, which were just coming to an end. I went to bed. By the morning, the shivering had stopped, but I felt anything but well. I wasnt interested in food, but knew I had to eat or I couldnt take the pills. I forced myself to have three meals, but couldnt face eating a fourth time, so again, just three pills that day. That was Saturday. Again, I had a cold shivering spell in the evening. I thought it was because I probably did have an infection and the tablets would soon sort it. By this time, I also had a bit of a thick tongue, a gruesome taste in my mouth and a furry feeling in my mouth too. I hardly slept a wink. As I drifted off to sleep, I had the most excruciating stabbing pains in my stomach (not the same place as the pains I had first gone to the GP with), which kept me awake a lot of the night. I was taking paracetamol, but it didnt seem to be affecting the pain much at all.
The next day was Sunday and I was due to go to London (Hubby was driving me down). I had a meeting on Monday and I had asked the doctor if there was any reason whay I shouldnt go. She had assured me there wasnt. By this time I could barely stand up. I managed to wash my hair and get my things into an overnight bag (returning Tuesday), but it exhausted me. I was exceedingly pale and felt like death warmed up. I was having very odd sensations in my stomach which made me begin to wonder if the medication was affecting the lining of the stomach - I can only describe it as like having my own mini bad tempered dragon sitting on the right hand side of my stomach; every now and then, he would get cross and blow a jet of hot fire and acid across the top of my stomach. I had never experienced like it before, but in my imagination, I thought it might be somewhat like an ulcer might feel like.
We were due to pick up our daughter to take her with us (she lives in London); she had been to a wedding not too far from here. Shortly after arriving at her home, I went to bed as I felt so bad. Again, I hardly slept. Very sharp stabbing pains in the abdomen, constantly hammering away. Still, Monday was going to be the last day I would need to take any tablets. I had to get my husband to accompany me to the office on the train, just to make sure I actually got there. The day was going to be spent sitting around anyway, so it wasnt too strenuous, but I really felt ill - I had a permanent headache, my tongue was still swollen, the nasty taste was still present, the furry feeling was still there, I was dizzy, felt a little nauseaous and the pain was constant. It eased with the paracetamol though, but eating was really hard work. I was also very dry - I was drinking lots, but my mouth was always dry; my skin and hair were also dry - the skin felt rough and flakey. I took the final pill that evening and was glad that was over. By now, I was pretty sure it was the medication that was causing the problem - when I had gone to the doctor, I had been well, (apart from a pain in the gut) and she said so!
Because the pills were over, I didnt need to take one at bedtime and the sharp pains from the previous two nights did not recur. Again, that made me think it was in fact the medication that had caused the problem. In fact, the only pain I was left with was the one I had taken to the doctor in the first place - clearly her 'pre-emptive strike' with antibiotics had not worked. On Tuesday, we drove home, arriving about 9pm. I went straight to bed. On Wednesday, I was no better and in fact rather worse. I received a call from the doctor's receptionist to tell me I needed one of my blood tests redoing in six weeks' time, as it had come back slightly high. I asked which test and she said it was one of the liver function tests. On Thursday, I asked my husband to call the doctor to make another appointment. A new pain had arrived - a deep pain in my hip, like someone boring into me. It was sporadic, but controlled by the paracetamol. I wasnt even having to take two tablets; just one and the relief was lasting 4-6 hours.
Because the appointment was last minute, I had to see the duty doctor. It was the same doctor - Dr N. I really did not want to see her, but I did want to tell her what her tablets had done to me. It would have been much better if I had been well enough to do battle, but I felt like death, without the warmed up bit. I explained what the symptoms had been since she had prescribed them and explained that the really sharp stabbing pains had stopped as soon as the tablet course was completed. I also explained that I had been experiencing a rapid heart rate (between 82bpm and 101bpm). She asked what pain killers I was taking, so I explained and also told her they were perfectly adequate. She wrote a prescription anyway for a stronger painkiller, that I would only have to take twice every 24 hours. She also sent me for an x-ray to check for kidney stones and asked if I had received the appointment for the scan yet (no). As I reached the door of her office, she said, 'oh and dont take the ibuprofen, but you can continue with the paracetamol and you must take these painkillers with food, or they might upset your stomach'. I went for the x-ray straight away (the hospital is across the road from the surgery); they said iw ould be a week to ten days before the results would be available - not in any hurry really, considering that kidney stones (if I had them) can cause kidney damage and possible kidney failure. I didnt bother to get the prescription filled.
That day was the last day I got dressed for eight days and the last I got out of bed for three days. Oh, not quite; I did make it downstairs on the Friday (Good Friday), but then couldnt do that any more until Monday evening. I was sleeping for Britain and barely eating anything at all - a mouthful here and there, just enough to ensure I didnt die of total starvation. I was however (thankfully) able to drink copious amounts of water. I knew I had to eat, so I thought I would start slowly. Babies thrive on milk and a nice cold glass of milk actually appealed, so I had half a glass. That was okay. So I added a rusk to the next one in a bowl. I ate about 1/3 of it.
By Tuesday 10th April, I was eating a bit better. I was also able to concentrate longer, so decided to take a look at the medication the doctor had prescribed, to see if it had been the supposed infection that had made me so ill, or the drug. What I found horrified me - but i will save that for part 2.
The doctor decided to put me through a health MOT - checked blood pressure (well, actually, she relied on my own reading from a home device I have), checked my weight, asked questions about family health history (all of which should have been on my file anyway); she then checked my abdomen, before announcing that at least it wasnt appendicitis because if it was I wouldnt be so well. [With what transpired, she might as well have added 'so we will give you some tablets to make you really ill']
She had already ascertained that I was not happy taking tablets of any kind unless absolutely necessary, so I was a little taken aback when she said she wanted to prescribe some antibiotics and then asked me 'if that was all right'. I repeated that I didnt want them unless she felt they were absolutely necessary. She said it was something she prescribed as a 'blanket prescription' (her words) for all women who presented with similar symptoms. Well, I didnt think anyone prescribed antibiotics as a blanket thing at all any more, but she added that if I had a urinary tract infection (which it might be) then having the antibiotics might save time while I awaited the results of the blood tests she was going to send me for. One of those tests was for coeliac disease. I had already mentioned to her that I had IBS and her reaction was somewhat odd: 'who told you you have IBS?' Goodness, that took some thinking. It was over 30 years ago that I had been diagnosed by both a GP and a hospital. I eventually came up with the name of the GP, dredged from the recesses of time, Dr E. That was when she said 'well, I'm sending you for a blood test for coeliac disease'. Well, I already knew I didnt have coeliac disease, but what was the point in arguing? She also requested a urine test and an appointment for a scan at the hospital, 'to rule out ovarian cancer' as the cause of my bowel discomfort. Hmmmm.
I had the blood tests taken immediately by the practise nurse and got the prescription filled at the chemist next door, before walking back home. I started the tablets straight away - 1 tablet 4 times a day, with food, 'to aid absorption'. I had a three day supply. It was already lunch time, so four was going to be impossible that day, but I wasnt worried. As long as I took them constantly until they were all gone, everything should be fine.
I managed three tablets that day. But by 9pm, I was shivering uncontrollably and was freezing cold. This was the week of the hot temperatures, which were just coming to an end. I went to bed. By the morning, the shivering had stopped, but I felt anything but well. I wasnt interested in food, but knew I had to eat or I couldnt take the pills. I forced myself to have three meals, but couldnt face eating a fourth time, so again, just three pills that day. That was Saturday. Again, I had a cold shivering spell in the evening. I thought it was because I probably did have an infection and the tablets would soon sort it. By this time, I also had a bit of a thick tongue, a gruesome taste in my mouth and a furry feeling in my mouth too. I hardly slept a wink. As I drifted off to sleep, I had the most excruciating stabbing pains in my stomach (not the same place as the pains I had first gone to the GP with), which kept me awake a lot of the night. I was taking paracetamol, but it didnt seem to be affecting the pain much at all.
The next day was Sunday and I was due to go to London (Hubby was driving me down). I had a meeting on Monday and I had asked the doctor if there was any reason whay I shouldnt go. She had assured me there wasnt. By this time I could barely stand up. I managed to wash my hair and get my things into an overnight bag (returning Tuesday), but it exhausted me. I was exceedingly pale and felt like death warmed up. I was having very odd sensations in my stomach which made me begin to wonder if the medication was affecting the lining of the stomach - I can only describe it as like having my own mini bad tempered dragon sitting on the right hand side of my stomach; every now and then, he would get cross and blow a jet of hot fire and acid across the top of my stomach. I had never experienced like it before, but in my imagination, I thought it might be somewhat like an ulcer might feel like.
We were due to pick up our daughter to take her with us (she lives in London); she had been to a wedding not too far from here. Shortly after arriving at her home, I went to bed as I felt so bad. Again, I hardly slept. Very sharp stabbing pains in the abdomen, constantly hammering away. Still, Monday was going to be the last day I would need to take any tablets. I had to get my husband to accompany me to the office on the train, just to make sure I actually got there. The day was going to be spent sitting around anyway, so it wasnt too strenuous, but I really felt ill - I had a permanent headache, my tongue was still swollen, the nasty taste was still present, the furry feeling was still there, I was dizzy, felt a little nauseaous and the pain was constant. It eased with the paracetamol though, but eating was really hard work. I was also very dry - I was drinking lots, but my mouth was always dry; my skin and hair were also dry - the skin felt rough and flakey. I took the final pill that evening and was glad that was over. By now, I was pretty sure it was the medication that was causing the problem - when I had gone to the doctor, I had been well, (apart from a pain in the gut) and she said so!
Because the pills were over, I didnt need to take one at bedtime and the sharp pains from the previous two nights did not recur. Again, that made me think it was in fact the medication that had caused the problem. In fact, the only pain I was left with was the one I had taken to the doctor in the first place - clearly her 'pre-emptive strike' with antibiotics had not worked. On Tuesday, we drove home, arriving about 9pm. I went straight to bed. On Wednesday, I was no better and in fact rather worse. I received a call from the doctor's receptionist to tell me I needed one of my blood tests redoing in six weeks' time, as it had come back slightly high. I asked which test and she said it was one of the liver function tests. On Thursday, I asked my husband to call the doctor to make another appointment. A new pain had arrived - a deep pain in my hip, like someone boring into me. It was sporadic, but controlled by the paracetamol. I wasnt even having to take two tablets; just one and the relief was lasting 4-6 hours.
Because the appointment was last minute, I had to see the duty doctor. It was the same doctor - Dr N. I really did not want to see her, but I did want to tell her what her tablets had done to me. It would have been much better if I had been well enough to do battle, but I felt like death, without the warmed up bit. I explained what the symptoms had been since she had prescribed them and explained that the really sharp stabbing pains had stopped as soon as the tablet course was completed. I also explained that I had been experiencing a rapid heart rate (between 82bpm and 101bpm). She asked what pain killers I was taking, so I explained and also told her they were perfectly adequate. She wrote a prescription anyway for a stronger painkiller, that I would only have to take twice every 24 hours. She also sent me for an x-ray to check for kidney stones and asked if I had received the appointment for the scan yet (no). As I reached the door of her office, she said, 'oh and dont take the ibuprofen, but you can continue with the paracetamol and you must take these painkillers with food, or they might upset your stomach'. I went for the x-ray straight away (the hospital is across the road from the surgery); they said iw ould be a week to ten days before the results would be available - not in any hurry really, considering that kidney stones (if I had them) can cause kidney damage and possible kidney failure. I didnt bother to get the prescription filled.
That day was the last day I got dressed for eight days and the last I got out of bed for three days. Oh, not quite; I did make it downstairs on the Friday (Good Friday), but then couldnt do that any more until Monday evening. I was sleeping for Britain and barely eating anything at all - a mouthful here and there, just enough to ensure I didnt die of total starvation. I was however (thankfully) able to drink copious amounts of water. I knew I had to eat, so I thought I would start slowly. Babies thrive on milk and a nice cold glass of milk actually appealed, so I had half a glass. That was okay. So I added a rusk to the next one in a bowl. I ate about 1/3 of it.
By Tuesday 10th April, I was eating a bit better. I was also able to concentrate longer, so decided to take a look at the medication the doctor had prescribed, to see if it had been the supposed infection that had made me so ill, or the drug. What I found horrified me - but i will save that for part 2.
Friday, 7 October 2011
New Beginnings
As you know, if you have been reading this blog, my garden is 'a little' overgrown to say the least. What's more, it isn't going to get any better if I don't work hard at it. So in recent days, I have set about finding the best methods of clearing a veg-plot-to-be. It is surprising just how little information there is out there about how to do that! Looking for books on the subject yielded titles about how to make a beautiful garden out of a not so beautiful garden, but nothing at all about how to turn a neglected and derelict plot of land into a productive vegetable garden. Internet searches only revealed gardens that had some special aspect to them, such as the Abbey Gardens near the DLR in London, but not HOW they did it, just what they had to do to get permission to do it!
What I did find however was that Autumn is the best time to start (and finish) clearing the weeds, hence the title of this post. It isnt usual that we consider Autumn the season of new beginnings, but when it comes to the garden (and schools) it really is the start of the year.
There are three basic methods:
1. Douse the lot with weed killer - this is a nonstarter for me, because I want to grow my veggies as chemical free as possible. Having neglected the garden for years, I know for sure that there are no chemicals on the land, so it would not be the best start to reverse that and pour noxious chemicals all over it right at the beginning, not to mention the potential damage to the environment.
2. Cover with a weed suppressant, like thick dark polythene, old carpet, or cardboard and leave for a year. That would mean not growing anything till 2013, which in turn means no veggies next year.
3. A combination of weed suppressant and hard work. Now much as I tend to shy away from hard work, it looks like this is going to be the method to use.
I have already dug over some of the plot earlier in the summer and to my surprise the weeds haven't returned as much as I expected they would, which I suppose means I did a pretty thorough job of getting them and, more importantly, their roots out the first time round. The parts where I just cut back the weeds though will need cutting back again.
So the plan is looking like this:
1. Cut down the existing weeds as near to ground level as possible (again - already done this twice this year!).
2. Cover those parts that cannot be dug immediately.
3. Make the frames for the first deep bed (I have some long planks of wood that I intend to re-use for this purpose. The only thing I have had to buy is some wood for the stakes to support the frame.)
4. Put the first frame in place, dig the soil within it, mix in some compost. Remove as much of the weed roots as possible as each spadeful is dug.
5. If not planting immediately, cover with a weed suppressing material - and I have just the thing - copious quantities of cardboard from when we had some wardrobes fitted earlier in the year! Must remember to weight them down, or they will be blowing all over the neighbours' gardens instead.
6. Repeat steps 3-5 for the other beds as they are needed or whenever the winter weather allows. Simples!
Benefits:
1. I will undoubtedly get fitter as I dig away, though the aches and pains at first probably wont feel like it! I am under no illusions about how hard it is going to be!
2. Some land will be ready for use immediately and the rest can be brought into cultivation bit by bit as needed.
3. The weeds in the undug areas will have trouble growing next Spring, so there should be fewer of them to bother with.
4. I can (eventually) eat the produce without worrying about the effect of any chemicals on either the environment or me!
Right, better get to it while the sun is shining!
What I did find however was that Autumn is the best time to start (and finish) clearing the weeds, hence the title of this post. It isnt usual that we consider Autumn the season of new beginnings, but when it comes to the garden (and schools) it really is the start of the year.
There are three basic methods:
1. Douse the lot with weed killer - this is a nonstarter for me, because I want to grow my veggies as chemical free as possible. Having neglected the garden for years, I know for sure that there are no chemicals on the land, so it would not be the best start to reverse that and pour noxious chemicals all over it right at the beginning, not to mention the potential damage to the environment.
2. Cover with a weed suppressant, like thick dark polythene, old carpet, or cardboard and leave for a year. That would mean not growing anything till 2013, which in turn means no veggies next year.
3. A combination of weed suppressant and hard work. Now much as I tend to shy away from hard work, it looks like this is going to be the method to use.
I have already dug over some of the plot earlier in the summer and to my surprise the weeds haven't returned as much as I expected they would, which I suppose means I did a pretty thorough job of getting them and, more importantly, their roots out the first time round. The parts where I just cut back the weeds though will need cutting back again.
So the plan is looking like this:
1. Cut down the existing weeds as near to ground level as possible (again - already done this twice this year!).
2. Cover those parts that cannot be dug immediately.
3. Make the frames for the first deep bed (I have some long planks of wood that I intend to re-use for this purpose. The only thing I have had to buy is some wood for the stakes to support the frame.)
4. Put the first frame in place, dig the soil within it, mix in some compost. Remove as much of the weed roots as possible as each spadeful is dug.
5. If not planting immediately, cover with a weed suppressing material - and I have just the thing - copious quantities of cardboard from when we had some wardrobes fitted earlier in the year! Must remember to weight them down, or they will be blowing all over the neighbours' gardens instead.
6. Repeat steps 3-5 for the other beds as they are needed or whenever the winter weather allows. Simples!
Benefits:
1. I will undoubtedly get fitter as I dig away, though the aches and pains at first probably wont feel like it! I am under no illusions about how hard it is going to be!
2. Some land will be ready for use immediately and the rest can be brought into cultivation bit by bit as needed.
3. The weeds in the undug areas will have trouble growing next Spring, so there should be fewer of them to bother with.
4. I can (eventually) eat the produce without worrying about the effect of any chemicals on either the environment or me!
Right, better get to it while the sun is shining!
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Trip to Keswick
It has been unseasonably warm of late and feels more like summer than summer did! So today, rather than doing all the jobs I had planned, we decided to down tools and visit the Lake District.
Setting off about 11am, we drove through Barnard Castle, which was a bit dull, weatherwise, and out the other side into great sunshine. The weather was lovely in Keswick, with bright sun and really warm. It was t-shirt weather, which we havent really had all summer. In fact, it was probably warmer than anywhere we have been except our first day in Athens in April!
One thing I really love about Keswick is there are several book shops, both new and second hand, including an Oxfam shop. So after a really nice (and reasonably priced) lunch of tomato and basil soup with warm bread, we headed off to find them and browse. To get there, we had to walk through the market, which was thriving and bustling with many stalls full of crafts, homemade meat products (like sausages), cheeses, and two photography stalls, selling beautiful pictures of scenery in the Lake District. I really need to try harder with my own photos and really get to grips with the techniques. I did take some photos, but I doubt they are anything like as good as those we saw at the market.
Finally we got through the bookshops and I managed to buy one which will be a Christmas present. So I'm not posting the name of it, because it might spoil the surprise!
After that, we went down to the Lake and that's where I took the photos. The water was sparkling in the sunshine and the boats were all lined up along the edge. I will post them tomorrow, when they have been downloaded onto the computer.
One ice cream later (complete with flake, of course) we set off to return home. Lovely day and lovely surprise, as we didnt expect to be going out at all. The plan had been laundry and gardening. I guess that will have to wait for another day....
Setting off about 11am, we drove through Barnard Castle, which was a bit dull, weatherwise, and out the other side into great sunshine. The weather was lovely in Keswick, with bright sun and really warm. It was t-shirt weather, which we havent really had all summer. In fact, it was probably warmer than anywhere we have been except our first day in Athens in April!
One thing I really love about Keswick is there are several book shops, both new and second hand, including an Oxfam shop. So after a really nice (and reasonably priced) lunch of tomato and basil soup with warm bread, we headed off to find them and browse. To get there, we had to walk through the market, which was thriving and bustling with many stalls full of crafts, homemade meat products (like sausages), cheeses, and two photography stalls, selling beautiful pictures of scenery in the Lake District. I really need to try harder with my own photos and really get to grips with the techniques. I did take some photos, but I doubt they are anything like as good as those we saw at the market.
Finally we got through the bookshops and I managed to buy one which will be a Christmas present. So I'm not posting the name of it, because it might spoil the surprise!
After that, we went down to the Lake and that's where I took the photos. The water was sparkling in the sunshine and the boats were all lined up along the edge. I will post them tomorrow, when they have been downloaded onto the computer.
One ice cream later (complete with flake, of course) we set off to return home. Lovely day and lovely surprise, as we didnt expect to be going out at all. The plan had been laundry and gardening. I guess that will have to wait for another day....
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Sunday 11th September
Our church has been in the papers for all the wrong reasons! A man who had been attending arrived at the church during the week, having been beaten up. After he had calmed down, he went home, fell into a coma, was taken to hospital and later died. The police, of course, are treating it as murder.
After church, it was such a lovely day OH and I decided we would go hiking for the afternoon. We drove up to Beamish Open Air Museum, parked just outside and walked round towards Causey Arch and back through the woods.
The path wasn't too clear at some points and we missed a turn, but it didnt matter as the path we eventually found ourselves on was parallel to the one we should have been on and joined the next section just a little higher up the track.
The terrain was varied for such a short walk. There were some country lanes, then woodland paths and field tracks and paths.
We sat down for lunch in an open field, surrounded by trees. There we saw two red kites. They were really close, so close in fact we could clearly see the markings and the red of their tails. I didnt get any photos sadly as it took too long to change the lens on the camera. However, after lunch and two fields further over we saw what we thought was another red kite. It came closer and was in fact a buzzard. Got photos this time and will add them to this page once I have downloaded them from the camera.
Down through the woods, the path was less than helpful, but we soon came to a wide track and followed that down by the stream. Part way along, there was a bit of a clearing and we could see the wall of a nearby stately home. Squirrels were running along the top of it. Unfortunately they were the grey ones, rather than the red. Then we noticed one hanging from a tree close to the path. Because the land fell away at the edge of the path, the squirrel was about level with us, but the ground below it was several feet further down. It was hanging by its front paws by a thin twig and appeared to be injured.
We dont know if it had fallen or perhaps escaped from the buzzard, but it wasnt behaving normally at all. It seemed as though it couldnt move its legs, but was just hanging on for dear life by its front ones. There was nothing we could do, as we couldnt possibly reach it. Eventually it fell out of the tree, landed on the bracken below and vanished into the undergrowth.
Somewhere in the woods, we came across an interesting seat:
And passed a lake where we saw a huge heron. It didn't stay around long enough for a photo, but I took a picture of the lake:
Not quite sure what the signpost in the middle of the water is meant to be doing though!
As we approached the lane back to the car, we came across two female pheasants. They didn't seem afraid of us at all, so I was able to take some closer shots than normal:
All in all we walked about 4 or 5 miles around the outskirts of the Museum. We could hear the steam train and the fairground music as we walked. We could also hear other steam trains at the Tanfield Railway which was having a special event and we could see and smell the smoke. One of the paths we walked along was the bed of a long gone railway track and the fence that separated the path from the stream (Beamish Burn) was made from old railway track.
Haven't done a proper hike for ages and discovered that I am really unfit and out of condition. Note to self: must do something about that!
After church, it was such a lovely day OH and I decided we would go hiking for the afternoon. We drove up to Beamish Open Air Museum, parked just outside and walked round towards Causey Arch and back through the woods.
The path wasn't too clear at some points and we missed a turn, but it didnt matter as the path we eventually found ourselves on was parallel to the one we should have been on and joined the next section just a little higher up the track.
The terrain was varied for such a short walk. There were some country lanes, then woodland paths and field tracks and paths.
We sat down for lunch in an open field, surrounded by trees. There we saw two red kites. They were really close, so close in fact we could clearly see the markings and the red of their tails. I didnt get any photos sadly as it took too long to change the lens on the camera. However, after lunch and two fields further over we saw what we thought was another red kite. It came closer and was in fact a buzzard. Got photos this time and will add them to this page once I have downloaded them from the camera.
Down through the woods, the path was less than helpful, but we soon came to a wide track and followed that down by the stream. Part way along, there was a bit of a clearing and we could see the wall of a nearby stately home. Squirrels were running along the top of it. Unfortunately they were the grey ones, rather than the red. Then we noticed one hanging from a tree close to the path. Because the land fell away at the edge of the path, the squirrel was about level with us, but the ground below it was several feet further down. It was hanging by its front paws by a thin twig and appeared to be injured.
We dont know if it had fallen or perhaps escaped from the buzzard, but it wasnt behaving normally at all. It seemed as though it couldnt move its legs, but was just hanging on for dear life by its front ones. There was nothing we could do, as we couldnt possibly reach it. Eventually it fell out of the tree, landed on the bracken below and vanished into the undergrowth.
Somewhere in the woods, we came across an interesting seat:
And passed a lake where we saw a huge heron. It didn't stay around long enough for a photo, but I took a picture of the lake:
Not quite sure what the signpost in the middle of the water is meant to be doing though!
As we approached the lane back to the car, we came across two female pheasants. They didn't seem afraid of us at all, so I was able to take some closer shots than normal:
All in all we walked about 4 or 5 miles around the outskirts of the Museum. We could hear the steam train and the fairground music as we walked. We could also hear other steam trains at the Tanfield Railway which was having a special event and we could see and smell the smoke. One of the paths we walked along was the bed of a long gone railway track and the fence that separated the path from the stream (Beamish Burn) was made from old railway track.
Haven't done a proper hike for ages and discovered that I am really unfit and out of condition. Note to self: must do something about that!
Monday, 5 September 2011
Birthday parties and other things
Saturday:
Next Wednesday (7th September) is my father's wife's 80th birthday. To make it easy for everyone, they had a party at the weekend, so we travelled down to Sussex to attend. My brother came from Cornwall, with his girlfriend (haven't seen him for 18 months, though we do speak on the phone from time to time, and never met her before) and my aunt came from Norfolk. It was good to see everyone. Flo spent the entire evening on her feet and as far as I saw, didnt eat anything or drink either. Her daughters organised the party, so she didn't actually have to do anything, but there are some people who cant help being up and doing all the time, whether it's necessary or not.
We camped overnight at Mitchelswood Farm. It's a new camping venture, but they have been around some time as an equestrian centre. When we arrived, there was no-one at reception, so we had to call someone on the phone and they said just to pitch the tent 'anywhere' as long as it was on the campsite. It's a C&CC registered site which usually means no facilities at all. This one was a stage better than nothing at all - they had installed a portable loo and shower.
We got back to the tent at about 11pm (party wasnt too late and had started at 6pm). The site was slightly sloping, so in the middle of the night I had to turn round 180deg as my head was lower than my feet. It wasn't by much, but I couldn't sleep and was getting heartburn! That was when I realised just how noisy everything was. First there were owls - two or three different types, screeching or hooting about the woods (not a problem - I like owls); then the horses harumphing in the field next to the tents (I quite like horses too); then there was the party at the pub, with the heavy thump thump thump of the music - just far enough away so you couldn't actually make out any tunes! After that was the nearby A272 - cars were still running up and down and they could be heard quite clearly. And after that was the wonderful sound of being under the flight path to and from Gatwick. Not the most comfortable night we have ever spent!
Sunday:
I went to see my mother's grave this morning. Still no headstone - something her husband was sorting out. Will have to contact him and see what exactly he is doing or intends to do. It is after all 18 months and her grave looks very lonely being surrounded by headstones while hers is still bare.
When we got back to the campsite, we packed up the tent and again the reception area was unmanned. So we rang the number we had. A young girl answered but didn't know what to say to me, so kept me waiting 5 minutes while she got someone else to speak to me. The second person said that I needed to speak to someone else, but she would call him on his mobile and get him to come down. 10 full minutes later he finally arrived. We had been packed up for ages by then and were just waiting to leave. Had he been any longer, we were tempted just to drive off and pay later. I mean he was friendly enough, but you expect a certain level of service and we weren't getting it.
After that, we went to see Dad and see how he was coping with the morning after the night before. We arrived about 11.30, just as they were finishing breakfast! He had taken delivery of a compost bin for me, so we collected that and then were on our way back to the frozen north. We had been warned that it was getting cold overnight, but the temperatures were higher there at night than they have been here most of the day! Well, they dont call it the frozen north for nothing!
In the evening, I joined in an online party with some internet friends, which was novel but fun.
Monday:
This morning I was expecting an estate agent to visit at 11am. We have decided that we want to sell part of our garden as a building plot, but we also want to discuss whether it is worth renovating the house, or selling that as part of the building plot too. Basically we want to maximise the income from the property as we really want to move, for several reasons, not least being Hubby now works 70 miles from home which, while it is a pleasant journey which he doesn't mind, is very costly and time consuming.
By 12, the estate agent still hadn't turned up. So I rang the office. The receptionist told me it was in the diary for 2pm. Funny, she told me 11 when we discussed it the other day! I was not impressed. I was less impressed when she said the diary can sometimes automatically change times and dates all by itself - it shouldnt, but it does, she explained. Hmmm! She asked if I was still available at 2pm, which I am, but that's hardly the point is it!? When I repeated the conversation from the other day, she accepted that the appointment had been booked at 11am but the agent who is coming apparently always had it down as 2pm.
This is their second error and we haven't even asked them to market the place yet! I wonder what service their actual clients get? The first mistake was when I rang up to ask a question, which the receptionist couldn't answer. She told me someone would ring me the next day (the Friday) or the following Tuesday (after the Bank Holiday Monday). When neither happened, I rang them again and she was very apologetic. Apparently the estate agent had given her a message in response to my question, but she hadn't called me to pass it on. Retraining perhaps? Or just sacking?
When we do sell then, it is unlikely that we will be selling through this particular agent.
Meanwhile, I await 2pm with bated breath!
Next Wednesday (7th September) is my father's wife's 80th birthday. To make it easy for everyone, they had a party at the weekend, so we travelled down to Sussex to attend. My brother came from Cornwall, with his girlfriend (haven't seen him for 18 months, though we do speak on the phone from time to time, and never met her before) and my aunt came from Norfolk. It was good to see everyone. Flo spent the entire evening on her feet and as far as I saw, didnt eat anything or drink either. Her daughters organised the party, so she didn't actually have to do anything, but there are some people who cant help being up and doing all the time, whether it's necessary or not.
We camped overnight at Mitchelswood Farm. It's a new camping venture, but they have been around some time as an equestrian centre. When we arrived, there was no-one at reception, so we had to call someone on the phone and they said just to pitch the tent 'anywhere' as long as it was on the campsite. It's a C&CC registered site which usually means no facilities at all. This one was a stage better than nothing at all - they had installed a portable loo and shower.
We got back to the tent at about 11pm (party wasnt too late and had started at 6pm). The site was slightly sloping, so in the middle of the night I had to turn round 180deg as my head was lower than my feet. It wasn't by much, but I couldn't sleep and was getting heartburn! That was when I realised just how noisy everything was. First there were owls - two or three different types, screeching or hooting about the woods (not a problem - I like owls); then the horses harumphing in the field next to the tents (I quite like horses too); then there was the party at the pub, with the heavy thump thump thump of the music - just far enough away so you couldn't actually make out any tunes! After that was the nearby A272 - cars were still running up and down and they could be heard quite clearly. And after that was the wonderful sound of being under the flight path to and from Gatwick. Not the most comfortable night we have ever spent!
Sunday:
I went to see my mother's grave this morning. Still no headstone - something her husband was sorting out. Will have to contact him and see what exactly he is doing or intends to do. It is after all 18 months and her grave looks very lonely being surrounded by headstones while hers is still bare.
When we got back to the campsite, we packed up the tent and again the reception area was unmanned. So we rang the number we had. A young girl answered but didn't know what to say to me, so kept me waiting 5 minutes while she got someone else to speak to me. The second person said that I needed to speak to someone else, but she would call him on his mobile and get him to come down. 10 full minutes later he finally arrived. We had been packed up for ages by then and were just waiting to leave. Had he been any longer, we were tempted just to drive off and pay later. I mean he was friendly enough, but you expect a certain level of service and we weren't getting it.
After that, we went to see Dad and see how he was coping with the morning after the night before. We arrived about 11.30, just as they were finishing breakfast! He had taken delivery of a compost bin for me, so we collected that and then were on our way back to the frozen north. We had been warned that it was getting cold overnight, but the temperatures were higher there at night than they have been here most of the day! Well, they dont call it the frozen north for nothing!
In the evening, I joined in an online party with some internet friends, which was novel but fun.
Monday:
This morning I was expecting an estate agent to visit at 11am. We have decided that we want to sell part of our garden as a building plot, but we also want to discuss whether it is worth renovating the house, or selling that as part of the building plot too. Basically we want to maximise the income from the property as we really want to move, for several reasons, not least being Hubby now works 70 miles from home which, while it is a pleasant journey which he doesn't mind, is very costly and time consuming.
By 12, the estate agent still hadn't turned up. So I rang the office. The receptionist told me it was in the diary for 2pm. Funny, she told me 11 when we discussed it the other day! I was not impressed. I was less impressed when she said the diary can sometimes automatically change times and dates all by itself - it shouldnt, but it does, she explained. Hmmm! She asked if I was still available at 2pm, which I am, but that's hardly the point is it!? When I repeated the conversation from the other day, she accepted that the appointment had been booked at 11am but the agent who is coming apparently always had it down as 2pm.
This is their second error and we haven't even asked them to market the place yet! I wonder what service their actual clients get? The first mistake was when I rang up to ask a question, which the receptionist couldn't answer. She told me someone would ring me the next day (the Friday) or the following Tuesday (after the Bank Holiday Monday). When neither happened, I rang them again and she was very apologetic. Apparently the estate agent had given her a message in response to my question, but she hadn't called me to pass it on. Retraining perhaps? Or just sacking?
When we do sell then, it is unlikely that we will be selling through this particular agent.
Meanwhile, I await 2pm with bated breath!
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