Life goes on . . .

I haven’t written a lot in here lately because in all truth, there isn’t a lot to write about. Day follows day in endless regularity, but little happens during those days to distinguish one from another. If and when we do go put it is usually to the health centre, the dentist or, our most frequent call, the KBT Pharmacy in St Mary’s Street.

KBT Pharmacy with green and white striped awning. Their white ‘Dacia’ used for deliveries, is parked outside Cavers the Estate Agents.

The Pharmacy do a good job in keeping us supplied with our prescribed medicines, but it is also evident that they have to scratch around a lot in order to do so. Quite why thus should be I do not now as few of the drugs are made abroad, so “Brexit” cannot be blamed. Whether, perhaps, some of the substances pharmaceutical firms require come from overseas I also do not know, but that might explain their apparent difficulties. The Pharmacist, Mrs. Soenaid Anderson, lives quite near us, but we seldom see her, nor do we make that awful mistake of going and banging on her door if something doesn’t seem to be right. She has a daughter with Type 1 Diabetes and between them they raise money (they are both runners) for the diabetic charity JDRF.

My OH continues to suffer from post-Herpetic neuralgia, but for much of the time she carries on and gives little sign of distress, but particularly when she first gets up, and during the day when she sits down she lets out that “Ooooph” sound which tells you all your need to know. I try to help her as much as I can in the sense of trying to limit her need to move around, but in reality there is little I can do.

I too plod on. My walker is in use almost all the time, except for those occasions when it gets in the way a bit, and then I recourse to a walking stick. Two sticks are better for getting about, but with a stick in each hand you cannot carry things. I bought a second walker, which I admit I have not used nearly so much, but which comes onto its own if we need to go out and I need to get out of the car and go somewhere.

I hasten to add that this is not a photo of me – I am not that handsome !

It is only a walker, but has a seat – which is why I got his model – and it does have pockets at the front for a few small packages.

Gardening wise we are very lucky in that our next door neighbour is a gardener and he comes in and keeps us tidy – he weeds, but he also prunes and keeps the bigger bushes like Buddleia in check. Getting rid of the garden rubbish is a bit of a problem as we no longer compost and it all has to go into the wheelie bin and be collected fortnightly, but by dint of good management he never gets too much at any one time and so far he has managed very well. His recent pruning of the Buddleia has however rather dented that reputation and he has a collection of stems which will have to go in the bin a bit at a time.

We are well served when it comes to tradesmen. Our window cleaner, Robert McConnell, does more than just clean windows. He and his son cleaned all our white plastic soffits etc last week, and he advertises that he will take away and dispose of rubbish. We have an electrician, Stuart Ross and his very tall, fireman son, Mitchell, just around the corner, and a very good plumber and heating engineer in the town,J Kerr. Local shops provide tradesmen also, so for instance we recently needed a minor carpet repair and Gowans of Castle Douglas came and did the job with very little delay. Builders and such we find more problematical. We have a job outstanding for which a local builder has given us a price which we have accepted – but no sign of any action. Similarly there is a joiner and builder in the town who has undertaken to do some work for us – but not appeared as yet. The local Council turned up trumps when we applied for them to come to the house and take our wheelie bins away – we are a short distance from the actual street along which they go. I was just in the act of towing a wheelie bin to the end of our road, when the inspector turned up and found me in the act. He was a very nice chap, and was instantly horrified at what I was doing and pointed out that he didn’t want me falling over, and would feel partly responsible if I did. So he instantly made the decision that our bins would be collected, and with one minor exception on the very first day, collected they have been.

About Ian

Retired Clergyman, and former RAF person. Lives in Kirkcudbright, SW Scotland. One wife. Two children, three grandchildren and two great grandchildren scattered across UK, Europe and the USA. Long time member of the European Movement, and latterly of the Scottish National Party. ""Here's to us; who is as good as us? Damn few, and they're all dead"
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