The Piper voices many tunes

Time races by; as one gets older the weeks pass like days, months pass as quickly as weeks and, years breast the finishing tape just as one’s getting used to the present year’s number. Thinking back to childhood days, each passing term-time seemed trudgingly ponderous, as I yearned for the next holiday break from school; one annual visit from Santa Claus meant an eternities wait until the next festive excitement.

Anyway, the haste with which the weeks pass by is presented as my excuse for the paucity of blog postings from yours truly. Each day I promise myself that tomorrow may be the day I settle down to composing a post but, these promises are usually of the same order as those made by Owen Smith during the present unnecessary contest for the Labour Party leadership!

Now, “follow that”, I say to myself, concerned that by the time I settle down any reportage will already be out of date. Sleepless, discomforted, nights abed have once again become a norm, or at least, the briefest of snoozes is swiftly curtailed by nauseating discomfort on far too many occasions of late. Somehow, eleven hours of bed rest leaves me totally unrefreshed, my deepest sleep usually being attained from around the time I should be breaking my (nocturnal) fast!

Piper, our ‘schnuffelhund’* (actually mixed breed with a predominance of beagle) is therapeutically filling a lot of my waking hours, working miracles when I’m feeling at my lowest ebb of physical and emotional stamina. I can no longer imagine a family home without him. At times he becomes a Jesus dog, (literally) washing his disciples (Helen & myself) feet, as he rests alongside our respective reclining forms on the sofa. He has already familiarized himself with many local pathways and bridleways and, he’s determined to direct his walking attendant towards his preferred course of progress.

Although he runs and ambles freely in the garden, we’re reluctant to release him from lead and harness on our outings; his desire to follow any interesting scent, regardless of where it may lead, could lead to frustrations and alone-ness for considerable periods of time for his attendant / handler. It’s always difficult to know how he will greet any other canine in the vicinity, lots of friendly mutual sniffing can so easily switch to a bold growling, or even snarling, disposition if memories of earlier beastly attackers occur. (We not infrequently are witness to his bad dreams and, he still bears scars, on head and body, from the severe maulings he received in his Spanish pound years).

What amazes me most about our therapeutic miracle is the range of voicings he uses to express his emotional needs and fulfilments; a soft, low, purring growl denotes contentment as he snuggles up to his human companion/s, a more sustained rolling growl denotes the approach of visitors o the house whilst a more positive bark is reserved for feline or human intrusions on what he considers his territory.

A whistling nasal whine is Piper’s lament when his mistress leaves the house without him but, this swiftly settles when a.n.other proffers him due attention. An anticipated walk brings forth a yelping bark, accompanied by a hip wiggling tail wagging dance. A gentle whine as he wanders through the dining area may symbolise his desire to run out into the garden but, when he suspect his meal is being prepared an excited bark (less baritone than that of territorial declamation) accompanied by full-body wiggle expresses his preparedness.

His sheer range of expressiveness is sufficient to boggle one’s human mind!

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* ‘schnuffelhund’ my own personal nomenclature for Piper’s breed

'Tis better to arrive ... than having journeyed

After all the apprehension regarding a forthcoming journey, the whole experience is now behind me but, not without having once more vowed that I’ll never embark on such a venture again. Truth be told, the outward journey went reasonably smoothly as we journeyed via A1, M1, M42, M40, M25 & A24 from our abode to that of my brother on the South coast. The only little panic attack I suffered was during a break at Oxford Services; it was just so bustling with other travellers that it caused a bit of sensory overload on my part. Breathing exercises duly performed, I was soon ready to move on.

Shortly after we arrived, at our hosts, a delicious lasagne was appreciatively devoured by hosts and visitors alike. Food and wine throughout the visit was much appreciated. Both Helen and I were ready to retire au lit, during our stay, at an earlier hour than is our norm; the sea air seemed to be laced with knockout drops.

Of necessity, for me, life and the events / activities therein has always to be taken at a leisurely pace; I am far too well aware of the deleterious effects of overdoing it. Although I managed to do more during our weeks stay than would normally be my monthly quota, I found it impossible not to feel guilty when I couldn’t readily jump at the opportunity for further outings or activities. At times like that a sense of helplessness / hopelessness becomes overwhelming, until my beloved reminds me that a couple of years ago I wouldn’t have even been able to contemplate taking a trip anywhere; even routine visits to the hospital proved daunting at that time!

Visits to Littlehampton, the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust at Arundel, and the Istanbul restaurant in Worthing were all experiences to be savoured but, the real highlight of our stay was a visit, on the Saturday, from my (nearly) four year old great-niece, with her Mum and Dad in tow. Apart from the delightful antics of Ruby herself, it was a real pleasure to see Dave and Jan in action as the doting grandparents.

The first panic attack of the return journey home occurred before I’d even got into the car and then, three loo stops were required before we’d even arrived at the M25. To my surprise, the journey went smoothly as soon as the major motorway part of our route was underway. No matter how much one may have enjoyed their stay away, there’s nothing quite matches that feeling of exhilaration at arriving home. I appreciate home at any time but, each return there (from whatever locale) is just the greatest feeling imaginable. For me, familiarity breeds content!

QUITE AN EFFORT!

(my) Big Brother was watching us for this customary promenade picture

In spite of my customary post-journeying fatigue, the little holiday jaunt now seems far away. Valiantly struggling against my post-exertional malaise, I seem to have accomplished much since returning to my cherished hearth and home on Thursday afternoon.

Cathy had carefully nurtured the fish, in both pond and aquarium, as well as the tomato plants, in our absence and, only one of the chilli plants was gasping for water. ‘Tis incredible the restorative power of H2O, although I must admit to a preference for rather more vinous liquids.

Friday found me rinsing the pond filters, dismantling and cleaning the pump from the same piscine habitat, and nervously manning the skillet (the first time for over a week) to produce a spicy salmon pasta dish. I’m sure the sight of my halo must dazzle any beholder. What else have I achieved, you may well wonder; I shamefacedly admit to destroying and having to replace three of the four rotor blades on my new and more sophisticated / powerful model helicopter (acquired whilst visiting my brother).

Meantime, I’ve managed to restore my oldest PC, following a major system collapse and, have also struggled since last evening to overcome a major problem with Helen’s new laptop. For this latter instance I had to resort to backing up all the documents, and Outlook Express files, to an external disk. In fact, the problems were such that I could only back up the documents over the network as the laptop refused to co-operate with the external drive! Having backed up these files, I set to wiping the C drive and re-install the machine to its factory settings. Much re-installing of programmes and configuring of the network was subsequently required.

Come to think of it, a minute amount of my holiday time was also spent fixing a computer for my brother, primarily sorting out its sluggishness by cleaning and defragging the registry before adding some more RAM. The machine certainly seemed to hurtle through its tasks with three times the memory installed.

But what of the holiday; if you really must know a very enjoyable time was had by all. Just for the pleasure of visiting my brother and sister-in law, I incidentally put myself through a kind of hell that only fellow sufferers from panic attacks and a dislike of travel could understand.

It made a really great change to visit the seafront each day in such affable company. The journey there was the furthest I’d travelled in a single day for longer than I can remember, in itself that makes it a major milestone. It was also a bonus that the Sussex Model Centre was in such close proximity but, my first two attempts to cross the threshold of this emporium were thwarted by an absence of sufficient physical or emotional stamina!

Having travelled down on the Friday, we were treated to a wonderful Indian meal in Worthing, courtesy of Linda (Jan’s sister) and her better half Russell. (That’s not to say that our hosts Dave and Jan had not previously pandered to our need for victuals; these were in plentiful supply!) Yet another first for me, to dine out in a busy restaurant for a couple of hours, a feat I had been unable to contemplate during most of the past four years.

The morning that we were due to set off on our excursion South, a severe panic attack almost led to me calling the whole thing off and, as history always has a knack of repeating itself, I spent an horrendous half-hour in the stygian gloom of panic, nausea and stomach cramps on the first leg of our journey home but, I (almost) willingly admit that the effort was worth it!

This post also appears on 'Mal's Murmurings' and 'Hirsute Antiquity'