Our own microclimate

We decided to pop over to the golf club yesterday afternoon. We were surprised to see the snow once more on the fells across the water of Morecambe Bay.

We have been along the promenade a few times this week, but it has always been hazy, misty even, so only the nearest fells, if any, were visible. Yesterday was a day of blue skies & startling clarity. There was no denying the white caps on some of the higher fells. It’s certainly been raining enough & been cold enough lately. On Tuesday we kept being pelted with hailstones. Clearly, across the way, the rain fell as snow.

It sometimes strikes us how lucky we are here. Morecambe has its own microclimate. My home help, Linda lives in Lancaster & is amazed how different the weather is despite being only a few miles away. Lancaster can have settled snow while we barely even see a scattering of flakes. We do, however, get the winds. Linda is Lancaster born & bred. Previously Morecambe has always been a place to go out for a treat on a sunny day. Now, working here, she’s discovered how much the weather changes with the tides. As for the winds! She can’t believe they can be so strong. But then there is very little to break the force as the wind hurtles up the estuary. In Arnside, further up the estuary, where we used to live, you literally walked along the prom with your plastic bag of light shopping horizontal to you as you battled the gusts.

A chilly trip

I’m just back from a rather chilly trip out on the Mean Machine, my electric scooter.

First I popped round to deliver a card to an old friend. She has Alzheimer’s these days & doesn’t get out much. We haven’t seen her for ages. Today’s her birthday, 83 I think. We didn’t want her to feel unloved just because she’s no longer seen. Admittedly by now she’s possibly not even aware that it is her birthday, or who we are, but it might give her a little bit of pleasure to see the cute kitten in the picture. It may even jog her memory a bit.

Then I went on up to the library. Last night I suddenly realised I was down to the last 10 pages or so of my novel. That will be lucky to last out the day. It certainly isn’t going to keep me going through to Tuesday as the library will be closed from tomorrow to then due to Easter.

It is lovely to have a bright sunny day, without much wind for a change. I loved looking at the daffodils & hyacinths in the gardens as I passed. I also went by a couple of magnificent magnolia trees just started to open out into flower. I wonder when ours will reach that stage. At least the daffodils under the silver birches are opening up now. The nearby camellia is covered with large white buds so that should be glorious soon. Our garden seems to be considerably behind others around, but I suppose that’s what comes of being in a frost pocket.

An anxious wait

I’m trying to tell myself there’s no need to worry. Unfortunately I’m having difficulty believing that.

Yesterday I went once more to the surgery for a blood pressure (BP) reading. When I went at the beginning of March it had been high, sufficient for them to think I should return within a few weeks. And yesterday it remained high. The nurse tried three times. The results swung up & down. The first result showed the top figure was high though the bottom figure was very good. Second time the top figure had gone down but the bottom figure had shop up. The third effort was the best but even that was still high. She was utterly perplexed & decided to refer me to the doctor.

While we were between BP takings, & in theory relaxing, I thought I might as well check the bloods that had been taken at the previous session. She looked them up. All satisfactory she said. However, I too glanced at the screen. One reading went like this:

          ! Liver function:  some figures          satisfactory

I’m now wondering if this is a sign that my pancreas is playing up again, affecting my liver & blood pressure. That red exclamation mark must be indicating something. It was the only result so highlighted.

Anyhow we went on to do the shop. When I got home, I saw the answerphone was flashing. The nurse had organised an appointment with my GP for next week. Our GP usually requires weeks of waiting to see him, so this is amazingly swift. I’m not entirely reassured by the nurse ringing again this morning, at 8.30am to make sure I’d got the message.

I’m telling myself if it was very bad news I would have been sent to the hospital or at least been sent to see the triage doctor at the surgery. I can see it’s going to be a long wait. Meanwhile I shall have to distract myself with thinking of something else – the garden perhaps, or our French holiday in just a few weeks’ time.