The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.


I fear to say it in case I upset Fate, about CBD and nettles

This is my fourth day virtually pain free. I fear to speak it out loud in case it’s a karmic glitch!

Just like my 2017 episode, I have tried every conceivable way to get rid of 1. piriformis syndrome, 2. Knee pain 3. Left foot pain that developed in me in that order over the last few months. It has crippled me.

I suspect, though I can’t prove it, that vaping CBD liquid relaxed my piriformis muscle. But it caused an emotional deadening I didn’t like. So as the knee pain developed, the old piriformis problem faded. CBD in my opinion, is useless for pain. But good as a muscle relaxant. In the UK it is the legal part of Cannabis.

So, now having tested on myself, I can confirm that urtification with nettles is a better pain killer than Ibruprophen in any form. Urtification is when you apply stinging nettles to the place that hurts by stinging yourself. The way to do it is smack the area with fresh nettles. The average human shrieks “Oh, No! I couldn’t do that!” which just shows what sissies they are.

I told the doctor about the nettles. She did not laugh or sneer, she simply said “Yes, we have lost contact with the old ways of healing”. The way nettles heal, is to trigger the body to send chemicals to the stings, which deals with your pain too. Its not miraculous. It’s science!

So now, I am not fit, have very little stamina, but pain free (I think) and I pass on this information to those who are not sissies and choose to use ‘old ways’. CBD has it’s place. Nettles have their place.

They have been used by humans for thousands of years.

1 Comment

Dem Bones

This old Furlong is having trouble with dem bones.

As the song says,

Well, your toe bone connected to your foot bone
Your foot bone connected to your heel bone
Your heel bone connected to your ankle bone
Your ankle bone connected to your leg bone
Your leg bone connected to your knee bone
Your knee bone connected to your thigh bone
Your thigh bone connected to your hip bone
Your hip bone connected to your back bone
Your back bone connected to your shoulder bone
Your shoulder bone connected to your neck bone
Your neck bone connected to your head bone
I hear the word of the Lord!

Dem Bones Dem Bones Dem Dry Bones

I’m not sure what the Lord is doing , but everyday it seems to me, some connection somewhere is conking out. I think I might be cracking up.

In 2017 I had a miserable six months struggling with Sciatica. At the time. I felt as if I had an “infection” of some kind. I do again. Autopsies on those who died with Sciatica ( not from!) found bacteria hiding in dem bone connections.

Last time, I requested to try a general antibiotic, which I did. I don’t know if it helped or not as I tried so many things.

But one day, I woke up and all the pain was gone.

Lord, if you are listening, bring on that day again.

‘Arthritis’ made by me with NightCafe AI art generator.


Which Black Lives Matter?

We are having a problem with Black Lives in the Furlong garden.

Right now, all the lives on our bird feeders are Black.

This morning at crack of dawn, a hoard, no, a hovering, no, an invasion of terrorists circled our back garden like a vast cawing unruly crowd. They are unable to feed here. They were a swashbuckling show-off mob. No wonder the collective noun for them is a ‘murder’ of crows. In the half-light they looked like huge bats against the sky. Except these bats were not silently sonic.

They shrieked their presence so the other birds kept away, hiding in the hedges.

The Black Lives we don’t like here are the loud, in-your-face kind that bully every other life into submission to their presence.

The Black Lives that we love are the little retiring ones that come out after the bullies have gone. They have the most endearing habits, humour and comradie. Though it’s mating time and the ladies must get tired of being wooed, none seem to be complaining “Me Too”. Despite being ground feeders, they are learning to feed from our crow-free restaurants. Whilst they were there, some tiny non black birds came to feed as well. Those little Black Lives, allow the existence of other birds – of any colour, who are bold enough.

I know which Black Lives Matter to me most!

I like the Black Lives that live in consideration of all other kinds of Lives too.

Leave a comment

This is why we have dogs

At the great probabability of losing lots of blog followers, us old Furlongs prefer dogs to cats.

We have had cats. We’ve had nice cats. We remember them all.


You can’t trust them.

I find this video explains exactly why we prefer dogs…..


The darkside

Here, the peace of our little garden has been recently shattered.

The darkside are active here.

They have discovered our bird cuisine set up. Mr Furlong planned it very carefully so that all the birds, large and small, and even ground feeders would have an equal chance. We don’t even mind Sunday Lunch, the very large rock pigeon hogging the place because little birds pop in behind him as he is concentrating on his favourite occupation – eating. Sunday Lunch is an amicable chap.

But now a sinister mob has discovered our place. They are active every Spring tearing apart the wiper blades and mirror rubbers on our cars parked on the front road here. The council came along and shot a few, to what end one cannot imagine.

The next generation are here, in our back garden, casting their spell of terror around. Mrs Sunday Lunch went missing last year. The Darkside are executioners and cannibals. They did her in.

Mr Furlong has had to make alterations to the bird feeders. Sunday Lunch is going to hate it. But we might be saving his life, and definitely the lives of all the little creatures that used to feed here.

The Darkside are NOT welcome in our garden!


The dog’s birthday, CBD and Piriformis Sciatica, a sort of dog’s breakfast post.

The dog, Bass, was born on 1st October 2013. He is eight today.

He has no idea it’s his birthday. He’s fast asleep still. He took one look at the weather with the rain slashing down on the window, tucked his head down, and went to sleep once more.

The rain woke me too. I got up early. Every day has been a dreary day for me lately whether the sun shines or not. Piriformis Sciatica has crippled me since July. I have tried every cure, every exercise, every rub, urtification with nettles, hot water bottles, sitting positions and things I already forgot. I have not taken pain killers because I don’t. I did consider Amitriptaline as a last resort because you take one pill at night rather than challenge your gut with pain killers every four hours.

A pain killer for Sciatica is like farting against thunder!

Today being Bass’s birthday, I’m going to celebrate being pain free.

Its my sixth pain free day!

Piriformis Sciatica is a muscular problem where the Piriformis and surrounding muscles tighten up. They constrict the Sciatic nerve. The pain in the butt and hips is simply horrible.

About a week ago, I started vaping CBD eliquid. It took a few days, not instantaneous, but the pain is gone. I reckon it has relaxed the Piriformis muscle and my life has improved.

The eliquid is 500mg CBD in 60mls of eliquid from a UK company called REJUICED. I am vaping about 1 and 1/2 to 2mls a day.

Its a happy no pain day again for me.

This information might help someone else.

So I’m sharing it.

And Happy Birthday Bass!


Oh dang, not again!

Tomorrow is my birthday-again.

Maybe when you are old, it seems like time is speeding up so that at the end of your life your old age is easier to endure. Maybe the speeded up version of time is a kind of perverted compassion to all creatures by Mother Nature.

When I was a child, it took years to get to my birthday and now, they seem like just the other day.

I cannot see why we celebrate birthdays after the age of sixty. In fact, they should be banned.

Have you ever thought that a birthday’s opposite is a death day. And the older you get, the closer it gets. Are old aged persons celebrating that? Or are they celebrating their longevity? Either way,  I don’t like birthdays.

They remind me of loss after a certain age. Another year gone, another bit dropped off, another slow down, another wrinkle, another hair thinning, skin thinning, arthritic knuckle, bruise, blemish, entropy, atrophy, decay celebrating day.

Are we daft? I think birthdays are a day other people make you the excuse to celebrate for themselves.

Is there aught we can do?

No, there isn’t. Just bring the damn thing on Father Time, I’ll grin and bear another birthday. And remember with gratitude that I live in modern times. I have not been devoured by a sabre toothed tiger because I’m slow, nor stamped on by a woolly mammoth because I’m small and weak.

That’s a blessing I suppose.

Leave a comment

Caterpillar ID

Overnight, our roses in the front garden were denuded of leaves. But one rose bush, sitting solitary in an opposite corner was not.

One day, I spontaneously picked two red roses off the unaffected bush and took them to my sister. On my next visit, she showed me her ‘pet’. A little worm busily chomping the leaves.

I took a photo.

He and his friends are the culprits of the rose leaf denuding heist.  But I cannot identify him.

Do you know him or his friends?

Here is a video I found. It’s him and his friends having a ball! But nowhere does it say what type of caterpillar they are…

If you know, let me know!

Leave a comment

Counting friends

Occasionally I send an ecard to old friends and acquaintances that we know. It simply asks them how they are and tells them briefly how we are. I ask for an update from them.

This last year, some loving partners, unknown relatives or strangers to us, have replied with the news that whoever it was, has died. In fact, this last year was a bad year for deaths. I have had to delete old friends from my ecard address book. But I’ve left them in my email contacts, so that sometime, I can browse through it, and be reminded of their friendship again.

No one died of Covid.

But how they died was admirable. Most, simply snuffed it. They just pushed off. Quick. Easy. Efficiently, with no fuss. Sensible people.

One was found dead in his chair with the TV on by relatives. He wasn’t old.

Another noticed her hubby was dead during a conversation with him as they sat in the lounge, in the sunshine.

My fit walking friend died on the operating table during a not very serious op.

Your heart beats. And then it doesn’t. My rotund, huggy friend died as the ambulance reached the hospital. No hospital resuscitation  ordeal for her. She must have been pleased. She dreaded that.

On the whole, our friends have shown extreme wisdom. They just went.

Now we are waiting for another death. Our lovely considerate neighbour is dying. She is ninety. She has been absent from chats over the fence, jam and pickle, flowers, plants, and gossip swaps for two months now. Alone, in an end of life care ward, not being able to see her family, she needs to get on now and DO it.

“Best get on with it.” That’s what you would have said to me over the fence, Margaret.

Very sensible.


Scam confirmation

The other day we had a phone call from an unidentified male. He said “it’s time to check your smoke alarms. When would you like us to call?

I remember last year they called, but this year was more fun.

I said, “Sure, you can come today. Please bring your ID cards this time because I don’t actually know you are the fire department You might be scammers! “

There was a pause, “Would the fire engine be confirmation enough?”

And not long after this, an absolutely colossal red fire engine, polished and gleaming in the sunshine pulled up outside our house. The neighbours must have been stunned!

The most handsome young men came in and checked the smoke alarm and talked fire safety, as they did last year. We’ve no idea how us Furlongs got onto this scheme, but it’s to do with our age we think. Two frail old things, maybe with dementia who might set the block on fire maybe?

Next year, we will demand the ‘proof’ of identity again. But we will make it at a time when all the grandkids are here. They would love to see such a massive machine parked and stationary outside our house. They are stunning vehicles, awesome actually….in the real meaning of the word.