The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.


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My first outing

When I was teaching in a primary school, a popular topic for writing letters was “Write to your aunt/grandma/uncle/grandpa telling them about…….”

“Dear Aunt Emily RIP,

My first outing after lockdown was pretty disappointing. I lost it.

In public.

And I was very rude to a stranger, which I regret.

What happened was this.

Mr Furlong drove me and the dog, (sorry, the dog and I) up to Asda so that I could choose a few plants for our garden which is now mostly weeds. (or should which be that?)

The dog was on a retractible lead.

I chose a trolley which (or possibly that) I spritzed well with my isopropyl alcohol 70% spray, and started off to the outdoor plant section. Somewhere deep inside the Trolley Bank, the dog found a large dried out (or dried-out) chop bone with spiky points that people call T bones. The dog was delighted, but I was horrified. It’s exactly the very bone we would never ever feed him. (Or should I have written, the very bone, rather than exactly the very bone?)

I yelled “NO”.

He dropped the bone. I kicked it out of the way. He ran after it. And I ran after it too for I’m not a good kicker at 75 (or should that be seventy five) and don’t kick that far. So I kicked the bone around for awhile, yelling all the time. Eventually the dog won the match and chomped the bone up while (or maybe whilst) I stood over him beating him over the head and yelling some more.

During this dignified performance, a man took advantage of my mental health problem, by snitching my meticulously cleaned trolley.

I’m afraid, Aunt Emily, I did not behave well.

I do not wish to tell you about it. But the man looked surprised.

Anyway, I did actually walk the dog home, and fortunately, half way home, it absolutely bucketed down with rain. (Not sure if bucketed is a word). It was fortunate, because it took my mind off things as (or should that be because) I had no raincoat or brolly with me. ( or should that be nor?)

That is all I have to say Aunt Emily RIP,

Hope to see you soon,

Your niece,

Susan

XXXX

(Or perhaps the XXXX is wrong)

With love might be better?

Hope to see you soon,

With love,

Susan.”


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Special day

Today was an extra special day. It is 2020 Palendrome day.

Here is the Math…but….

It was also Mr Furlong and our daughters birthdays. We had a good meal out. No math needed for that, except to pay the bill!

Or daughter was born in the early morning in a nursing home with all the latest equipment, during a hot Southern hemisphere summer.

Mr Furlong was born on the floor next to the bed whilst his mother was alone, waiting for help to come. Dad missing in the house high snowdrifts, trying to get the midwife, on a black dark midnight of the worst winter Britain has ever known.


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Midnight snack

I started writing this blog in 2014 because I couldnt sleep.

Not sleeping went on for some months. Must have been going through some hormonal change or something, because suddenly my insomnia corrected itself.

Occasionally I suddenly awake with clear mind, energy and a feeling that it’s sad to waste such a rare thing by trying to sleep.

Tonight I fancied a midnight snack. Dates, nuts and figs.

When I was a kid, we used to eat sardines and condensed milk under the floorboards of a rambling old wattle plantation estate house that my uncle lived in, in Africa. It was quite dangerous really, climbing down, giggling with excitement, in the black darkness of the night, illuminated only by the faint glow of erratic torchlight. There could have been snakes, spiders or scorpions there.

There are none here in my bed.

Dates, nuts and figs come from Africa. They are full of sunshine.

And sugar.

They are going to bugger up my glucose readings in the morning. But you know what?

I don’t care.


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Eating grass

Behind our home, is a field. But dogs are not allowed to run on it. The people who own it, want it kept poo-less so children can play on it.

It looks nice. But actually, it isn’t really. It has invisible furrows and bumps in it, so small dogs and small children simply disappear into holes and long grass that looked smooth from the top.

Our dog Bass, is not a small dog. He would manage running free on the field just fine. But he isn’t allowed.

But the field contains dog gold. It contains grass!

Bass eats grass. He gets DESPERATE to eat grass it seems. Not any old grass will do. Bass eats grass that he has carefully selected. It has to be special grass. Now and again he goes on a grass eating binge.

And so I take him on a long lead to the field. He takes a ages selecting the right grass, as I stand in rain, hail or shine, waiting while he munches.

Recently, I found he’d eaten all his ‘special’ grass that we have purposefully planted in our garden. It was freezing cold and teeming rain, and after ten at night. I was buggered if I was going to take him to the field.

So I put on my raincoat, and head torch. I splooshed around pulling out clumps of his special variety grass and brought it indoors, to our lounge, where Bass had a happy half hour eating his hay, while we watched TV.

Everyone was happy.

And the grass is chemical free, poop free and child free as none of those things have ever been near it.


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Bird food – someday

The Furlongs haven’t bought bird food since the birds disappeared from our garden in 2018. The great bird sucking vortex in the sky.

But its cold and the Wood mice eat it too.

And maybe there’s a hungry bird out there……somewhere.

So we bought bird food seeds and fat balls.

Since then, the weather has been frightful, atrocious, appalling.

No human or bird, nor wood mice would ever go out in that weather.

But we promise to put it all out in the garden, some day soon believing that “if you build it, they will come.”


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Fairy stories for dogs

A while back, Bass-the-dog and I met The Pie Piper.

Today, we met him again. Only this time, the man was throwing the pie packaging into the bin and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The Pie Piper is a scary looking fellow. He had a checked lumberjack shirt on and the same big boots. Bass loves him. But obviously we met at the end of his meal and there were no crumbs for Bass.

But wait!

All the way along the path home Bass was eating flakes of pastry, crusts and tidbits that had fallen on the Pie Piper’s walk to the bin.

The Pie Piper is a messy eater, obviously.

I think today he’d swapped fairy tales and was Hansel from Hansel and Gretel.


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Type two diabetes – my results from my Carnivore experiment

This is the last time I will bore my readers with my diabetes blood sugar.

I have been on a Carnivore diet for all this month. Before that, I was already on a low carb, ketogenic diet. I fast from supper to noon the next day when I have lunch. I think that makes switching easier…..The day after I started only eating meat and animal products and no carbs, my blood sugars dropped from 8 plus mmol, 9 plus mmol and sometimes more on every test, to 6.5 mmol. I was impressed.

But then after time, I got readings on my monitor in the 5 mmol region.

Side effects from switching to Carnivore, are headaches in the beginning, and physical weakness. But eventually, my mood shifted, my energy returned. I am feeling the best I have felt for a long time. My old age depression has lifted, and I’ve even started gardening again.

Yesterday, my reading on my monitor, was 4.9 mmol.

Proof


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Type two diabetes, carnivore

My last post was on the success of the carnivore diet in reducing my blood sugar, immediately, after my first day. My post had a lot of views, so I thought I should give an update to the Type two’s reading it.

But the change has side effects. I got headaches for two days. I felt weak on my walks. After a day or two, I lost all my vigour. But one afternoon, after a weak walk, I suddenly felt different – sharp in the head, optimistic, energetic. And I have been so for several days.

I shifted into proper ketosis. I feel great.

I’m wondering if I’ll lose muscle mass? I’m thinking of gradually introducing different foods. First only animal foods, and later, to see what exactly gives me high sugar readings even when I’m eating a “well balanced” diet. I cannot eat as much as the carnivores say you should. And you must drink water. I’ve always had a small appetite.

Please look up the carnivore diet on the Internet. It’s not me promoting it. I’m simply reporting what happened to my stubborn blood sugar on it. My blood sugar reading averages about 6 mmol and sometimes drops into 5+mmol

And that’s a bloody miracle!


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It’s a puzzlement – blood sugar

Mr Furlong is diabetic. He controls his blood sugar with a minuscule amount of insulin and diet. He tried “The Starch Solution” which is contrary to any advice by any mainstream dietary guidance. He eats carbohydrates!

He eats potatoes, pasta, vegetables, pitta breads and oats, rice and home cooked foods. He does not eat commercial stuff. His blood sugars are brilliant and over the last eighteen months he has lost eighteen kilos.

I used to be a peripheral diabetic that orbited in and out of diabetes. I found “The Starch Solution” and used it for a year. It is “no fats” food and my hair and nails got brittle because of a lack of B12. So I dumped it. But on it, my blood sugar was good.

In January, I was OK. Since then, I’ve gone to pot! I’ve been on Paleo and Keto since then, both of which I’ve tried before. If I don’t get on top of this blood sugar thing, I’m going to be classified a real diabetic.

For three days, I’ve dropped protein/meat/eggs/fish etc. I’ve upped the carbs. Hey presto! My sugar has dropped to January levels.

I might join Mr Furlong and munch potatoes and pasta. But this time I’m adding olive oils and coconut oil, as he does, and take some B12.

Blood sugars? They’re a puzzlement.


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Wow, I saw an endangered species..

While on my walk yesterday along the canal path, I came apon an endangered species.

Or rather, they came apon me.

I’ve seen one or two of these creatures before, but never out on the streets. Or rather, in this case, the canal path.

I got a bit jumpy. For several days now, I’ve been picking blackberries. I hate to see good food go to waste. A doggie bag is an excellent blackberry picking receptical. So I was pretty packed with berries.

Anyway, I saw these creatures bearing down on me, and I hoped that the new stop and search regulations hadn’t arrived in our town yet. I don’t know if here, in the UK, you are allowed to help yourself to blackberries. Here, there are VERY strange laws, like picking wild flowers is illegal.

However, these two policewomen, all smart and official in their snappy uniforms and hats, and reflective yellow jackets, passed me calling out ” Good morning, everything all right here?”

Can you believe that?

I almost collapsed into the blackberries in my shock, and utter amazement.

These creatures actually exist, it’s only that we never see them here.