15.Our Technician Lyle

Lyle is very knowledgeable and vastly experienced. He also has a lot of common sense. I'm interested in such mechanical and electrical tasks, and he is alway ready to explain and to teach. We get on very well.

Today he came to help with the [downstairs] shower thermostat. For some time, the water there does not get more than luke-warm, whereas it gets hot in the wash basin and the kitchen tap.

I had followed the instructions in the Bristan leaflet, but without obtaining any benefit. Lyle checked and confirmed, that adjusting the control was ineffective. The thermostatic control cartridge had become faulty - we shall have to buy a new one, which Lyle will fit.
P.S. I phoned Bristan the following day - carefully finding a non-087 land-line - and my request was handled very efficiently. To my astonishment, they promised to post it within a week, and all totally free!

I also discussed with Lyle the question of thermal wall insulation. The local authority are offering it free to people of our age. But the man from Coldbusters, the firm they recommend - from around Croydon, found a problem. Building the extension over the garage, with a sloping roof, has created an inaccessible space at the side of the house. The man thought that a hatch to reach this space from inside the garage might solve the difficulty.

Lyle said that he could construct such a hatch. He estimated his labour at £150. But he was not sure that the insulation workers would be able to operate there: he suspected that they liked comfort. Also, unlike the insulation of horizontal surfaces [and we do have loft insulation], insulating vertical cavity walls does not contribute much to preserving heat. Much of our external surfaces actually consists of double glazing. The cavity is designed to prevent damp from reaching the inner skin: some insulation materials cancel this protection.

I had the impression that the man from Coldbusters had not been very keen on this job. Possibly he honestly did not consider it worth while. Certainly the job was not straight forward. I do not know how much he would have charged the Council. It sounded like a government propaganda gimmick in their scare-mongering about global warming. We agreed to abandon the project.

Lyle's exciting news was about his van. Some months ago, he was parked in his driveway at home, loading and unloading items. He had unwisely left his keys in the ignition. As he next emerged from the house, the van had been driven away - stolen. His insurance did not cover, as he had not taken 'reasonable precautions'. Luckily his employers loaned him a smaller van.
We told everybody. Since that event, I remove the keys from the ignition while paying at the filling station, and even while posting letters, in a deserted street.

Lyle's greatest loss was his vast collection of bits and pieces, obsolete components that could help in repairs. And also all his tools, of course, not to mention the value of the van. He assumed that the van would be cannibalized for car spares.

But last week the police phoned. His van had been abandoned and taken to the police pound - the 'decent' crooks had even left the keys in the ignition. Lyle had to pay £120 and the van was released.

The clutch was worn through and the windscreen was cracked. And it was totally emptied inside. It had new number plates, of course. In case of further hidden damage, the police were reluctantly willing to reveal to Lyle the purpose, to which his van had been put: to drag cash points and rip them out of walls - hence the burnt-out clutch.

It gives quite a new meaning to Judy's occasional trips to get money 'from a hole in the wall'.

14.correct diagnosis

It has taken me 20 years of retirement to observe an acute medical case from its onset to its conclusion.

Yesterday afternoon I had just finished my slide talk [on the story of Noah and its ramifications] when one of the students remained asleep. That is not unusual: after lunch, the lights are down... I often notice some of my mature audience nodding off. Harry does so - when he comes. And Mildred claims that shutting her eyes helps her to concentrate - except that thereby she misses the slides...

But her friend was not able to rouse my student properly. She brought her some water, but the lady could not stand up. As I was both 'the tutor', and 'a doctor', I was obviously responsible.

She was very drowsy, barely rousable. But no facial or limb weakness were apparent. Then her friend remarked that she was very sweaty, and the penny dropped immediately. 'Are you diabetic?' I shouted. - She said yes. 'Are you on Insulin?' - She said yes. So I ran to the kitchen to fetch sugar [in sachets] and a teaspoon.
She was able to 'eat' it and within a minutes or two she began to wake up.

'Have you had anything like this before?' - She said no. That was a bit worrying.
But by then she was able to tell us, that she had glucose tablets in her handbag - so we gave her two more.

She was still very weak, and it took Paula and Cliff on either side all their strength to help her descend the stairs to the foyer. We all agreed that she should be assessed in Hospital, and certainly could not drive herself home. The office called an ambulance - which came within some 10 or 15 minutes.

They were excellent, cheerful and professional. Nowadays they put on rubber gloves, and all the information that she gave them - date of birth, postcode, phone number etc. - by now she was fully coherent - was duly written on one of their gloves. Ball pens write particularly well on latex. Presumably it is copied later, or else they just file the gloves.

She has had diabetes - on Insulin - for many years. She lived alone, and had no relatives, but she did not want to be taken to the hospital. She knew that she would be kept waiting there for hours, and they would only repeat the same tests. And most important, she had two cats in the house... I hate cats - cunning beast who only pretend affection in the expectation of food and care: animal harlots.

By then her blood sugar was found to be normal, and after they also checked her blood pressure, they agreed to let her friend drive her home.

I phoned her this morning - she was OK. She described, that during the second half of my talk, the slides were getting blurred. And she told me that recently her blood sugar had frequently been low. But it had never happened mid-day: that is why she had replied to my question saying 'never before'.

I stressed the importance of getting her GP, and the diabetes nurse, to sort it out urgently.

Hopefully I'll see her at my next talk in a fortnight. Does this qualify for a U3A 'accident report'? Elsa offered to file one anyway. But not on a latex glove.

13.A successful day

This morning we drove to Heather for my slide talk on medical aspects of art to her friends in the music group, etc.

Heather's new laminate wooden floor is superb. And Lyle accomplished several other improvements to her satisfaction.

I had arranged the slide sequence only the previous evening. I had discovered quite a number or unreported medical conditions portrayed in paintings, and Patrick Horne had kindly fed me with others that I had not been aware of. Even after pruning, there were still 108 slides left. Plus one Rubens painting that I had discovered only 48 hours earlier: no time to make a slide - I prepared an A-4 printout.

The maximum length of my talk had to be one hour. It was worrying. So I kept my text and its print-out to the bare essentials and planned to speed up the delivery. In the end it lasted just 45 minutes. Needless to mention, the odd humorous comment was still preserved. Judith, who is a very useful and strict critic, did praise it more explicitly than many previous talks. 'The best thing about it', she said, 'was its brevity'.
The 20 or so people there included Daphne, Jeff and also Jane, who behaved very well indeed. I am told that the people enjoyed it - one or two actually inquired about a further talk.

Heather had decided on hot soup [mushroom, or Thai chicken] with slices of Challah. It was an inspired decision and a great success. Mum made a cheesecake [but forgot to put in the sultanas that I love..] and Helen made a superb ginger cake.

After everybody left, I relaxed on the settee and I woke up two hours later. In the style of our primary school essays, 'we returned home tired but satisfied'.

Tomorrow we are visiting Hugh and Bernadette in Manchester.

12.Joseph

The Biblical story of Joseph is a superbly crafted literary masterpiece. And its embellished copy in the Koran is also quite good - as is Jami's work Yussuf and Zuleika. In Genesis, the randy woman is never given a name: she is 'the wife of Potiphar'. Jami adds a happy ending. Read it, Ruth, but skip the philosophical ruminations.

The very numerous Illustrations of the story concentrate especially on one episode, of course. It gave men the opportunity to display in their home a pornographic image that was Biblical and 'sacred', and could not be condemned.
Needless to say I have collected a good many images of the seduction scene - of which the above is a fairly modest examples.

Joseph is invariably shown youthful, without a trace of a beard. I agree with those who say, that he was sexually [as well as emotionally] immature. Perhaps it was genuine delayed puberty. Later he matured to the point, that his brothers failed to recognize him. And he did father children.

Joseph gives the wife of Potiphar a lengthy explanation, why he will not, nay he can not, lie with her. [Can you hear Lurkio in 'Up Pompeii?']
That is why in Jewish tradition he is called 'Joseph the righteous'. Never mind his cunning maneuvres, to convert the entire wealth of Egypt, including all future national production, to the ownership of Pharaoh. It leaves the tax rises of the Labour government well in the shade!

Had I been there, I would have answered the wife of Potiphar in 3 words only:

"All right, then".

11-b.Visual Aids cont.

Ahh, Ruth did say that I have to download the image first...

On the previous blog, I did actually delete the text that I had started, and then tried to download the image.

But it still didn't work. Sometimes you cannot out-smart the machine... So I have to plan ahead.

Judah [the son of Jacob] lost his son, before they had children, and according to custom the widow Tamar should have been married to the remaining son. But Judah delayed, in case Tamar caused the death of her next husband.

Judah then lost his wife. After a while his sexual appetite returned. He travelled to shear his sheep - possibly a euphemism. His widowed daughter-in-law heard of it, disguised herself and sat at the roadside. Judah duly approached her, thinking she was a prostitute.
On finding the painting, the caption became quite obvious to me:
"American Express? -That will do nicely".

This would have changed the continuation of the Biblical narrative. To prove that her father-in-law was the cause of her pregnancy, she would have had to produce the VISA receipt, instead of Judah's staff and seal.

Next blog - Joseph.

11-a.Visual Aids

Ruth had told me how to include pictures in my blog. I managed 'the anatomy lesson' [see previous blog] and I also added a cut-down picture for my profile. It is an excellent photo - a sliver of Judith remains.
But when I tried to add images from another folder in 'my pictures', it did not work. The window message asked me to notify the blog-masters, but I ignore such requests. Next time Ruth comes she will help me: the intended funny comments related to the image that I found of Judah and Tamar will keep.
On the web, sites are getting more generous with images of paintings. Which means that I can make many more slides related to my talks.

10.Addendum to 'Private'

This is the image of the anatomy lesson whose source was so difficult to ascertain. The painting belongs to Glasgow university but can be found on the web.

Today's begging letter was from 'Womankind Worldwide'. It was addressed to me personally. Naturally I assumed that they wanted to enrol me as a sperm donor. I was going to ask them: in vivo, or in vitro?
However, when I opened the envelope, I found that although they were asking for a standing order, they had something quite different in mind... Ah well.

I wonder whether I should invite readers to comment on my blogs. My email is accessible.
But from the small sample of comments to Ruth's blogs that I have read recently, I'm not hopeful. A bit like the comments about 'Israel pics' which they publish on Arutz Sheva: Inane, boring, or plain ignorant. My favourite examples are the 'poems' from a regular orthodox 'bard' from the US, identified as 'MED,USA'. He confidently identified mandrake flowers as 'African violets'. And on a recent photo of a hilltop crusader type building complex, he asked whether it was Herodion. Google images could have spared his ignorance.

He knows about meteorology and cloud formation. So I pretended to comment on a quite mediocre photo of a stream cascading over rocks - in his name and in his orthodox style :
'Wonderful. The cumulonimbus has shed its load and the L--d has made it flow downstream'.
So he wrote: 'comment #1 is not mine. It sure looks wonderful'

In my student days I worked night shifts performing meteorological observation and phoning them through to the weather centre. I still remember the names of all 27 cloud types. But that's another story.

09.personal

I have an obvious problem with making critical comments on living people and commenting on the dealings that I have had with them. There are the risks of libel and defamation.
So I shall not give any historical background or explanations. Suffice it to say, that I detest Della Carr and Maurice Michaels.
And when commenting about relatives, I have similar problems to identify someone who has insulted me, and to explain the background. It might upset other family members, whom I like. So my comments about relatives will have to be confined to occasional oral conversations. With one relative, I have severed communications; and this is not likely to change.

Judith's policy of watering pot plants is digital. No, not the computer, but her finger, poked into the soil to judge the moisture. I did not fancy this custom, so I tended to over-water. As a result, if the opposite of 'green fingers' is 'red fingers', then that is what I have. Plants just perished in my care. But there is one exception - a cyclamen in a pot in our porch.
We got it as a present from a neighbour, whom Judith has helped while she was temporarily disabled after a fall. It had very healthy variegated leaves [the cyclamen, not the neighbour], and abundant large flowers. For some obscure reason, I offered to become responsible for its hydrological needs. So every evening, as I lock up the porch door, I lift the pot and judge its weight. If it is light, I add water to its saucer. Cyclamen must not be watered from above - so it is said - although in the wild, the rain does not know this.
For some months now, the flowers have continued. As one flower wilts, a new one rises and unfolds to replace it. Unlike Prince Charles, I have never spoken to it. So its mauve blush is entirely due to natural causes.

My next 'activity' is my slide talk, on medical aspects of art, to Heather's music group and sundry other privileged people next weekend. One portrait that I have found seems to have a Dupuytren's deformity of one hand. There is no information about the subject. But Google tells me that le docteur Dupuytren performed operations on ladies under a peculiar method of anaesthesia. He whispered such lewd things to them, that they fainted and he could operate.

An exciting story relates to another of my slides. A paper in the BMJ careers section featured a painting of a 16. - 17.c. anatomy lesson - right suitable for my lecture. But, unusually for the BMJ, the painting was not identified. I emailed the author, Dr Claire Hilton, to ask. Alas, she did not know - the editors had inserted it. Several inquiries to the BMA over 3 weeks bore no fruit. They are not organized for this sort of inquiry - even by a BMA member... The web site pictures.com, whence the image was taken by the BMJ, did not reply at all. So finally I decided to trouble my friend Patrick Horne in Toronto. Over the weekend, he had the full and complete answer. The painting shows the 16.c. anatomist John Bannister and it is in Scotland.

In her initial reply, Claire Hilton asks, whether I was perhaps Daphne's father. It turns out that both attended Woodford County High school. They have now established contact again - and Daphne and her family have visited them. It's serendipity.