Improvement

Lord knows how Ken and Doris's gravestone got to be the filthiest in that part of the churchyard but it was. It had become like something out of a horror film. And isn't it funny how I recently reviewed a book that was wholly concerned with fungi.

Ken and Doris have no surviving relatives apart from their niece Josephine who lives in Lower Hutt near Wellington in New Zealand. They never had any children of their own and perhaps that is why they were always delighted to see our kids when they were little.

Looking back, I am very proud of the support that I gave to Ken and Doris as they reached the ends of their lives. It was one of the best things that I ever did in my entire life. How they would have navigated those final years without me - and to some extent Shirley too -  remains a mystery I shudder to consider. We were there for them when they needed help.

That help included shopping for them, taking them for rides in the countryside that they loved with real passion, taking them to hospital, arranging their transfer to residential homes when the time was right, visiting them in hospital and in their rest homes, arranging their funerals, arranging the purchase and installation  of the gravestone, clearing their house ready for sale and keeping Josephine au fait with what was happening. 

Doris was a bright woman who was good with words and all her life she had written poetry. Not high brow, esoteric stuff - her poetry tended to be singsong verse but very well-crafted. In fact, the verse inscribed on the headstone was written by Doris herself.

And today I continued with my headstone cleaning mission. The trip to Broomhill went to plan and by one o'clock I was back in the graveyard with my canister of magic spray:

I followed the instructions which meant I had to leave the freshly sprayed tombstone for half an hour before wiping and rinsing it.  That time was spent studying other stones in that section of the churchyard. Each headstone has its own story or stories to tell. I saw the grave of a five year old child, a stillborn baby and a centenarian. Some gravestones were as elegant and simple as can be whereas others were wordy and surrounded by ornamentation - more like shrines than final resting places.

After today's work on Ken and Doris's stone, I was fairly happy with the outcome but as you can see from the picture at the top, it has hardly been returned to its original pristine condition. I am afraid that most of the staining that is left is imbued in the stone - not superficial dirt and fungal growth. I finished the job by putting sprigs of holly and ivy in the flower holder.

Probably, if I had cleaned the gravestone annually, it would now be in a much better state but hey, Doris and Ken were not blood relatives, they were just the nice old couple who lived in the corner house at the top of  our road...

Easter bonnets circa 1990

Headstone

Dear Jo,

At long last, I went up to Ecclesall churchyard this morning with the intention of sprucing up your Uncle Ken and Auntie Doris's gravestone. It was a bright, dry day and not too chilly for December 2nd.

I guess that a couple of years have passed by since I last went up to see it and I was pretty shocked with what I saw. What had once been a clear, creamy white headstone was now blackened with fungal growth. I could hardly read the inscription.

In my bag, I had brushes, cloths, kitchen cleaner and two milk containers filled with warm soapy water. I got on with the job but it soon became clear that a lot of the fungal growth would not budge.

There was certainly significant improvement but I was not satisfied.

Back home, I checked out a couple of YouTube videos about cleaning gravestones and realised that I would need some kind of special stone cleaning fluid or spray to complete the job to the best of my ability.

Research led me to the discovery that I could only buy the necessary spray off the shelf at Williamsons in Broomhill. I phoned them to confirm this and I will be heading up to Broomhill on the Number 6 bus tomorrow morning as it is so hard to park a car at Broomhill these days.

By the way, in a strange co-incidence, just as I was about to set off to the graveyard this morning, the postman brought me your Christmas card - all the way from New Zealand! Thank you so much!

I hope that you and Keith are in good health just now and no doubt looking forward to yet another Christmas - perhaps with your family. Please see the two attached "before" and "after" photos but I hope that the next picture I send you will evidence an even bigger transformation.

Ken and Doris were such a sweet old couple and I was privileged to be able to help them as they reached the ends of their lives. As I scrubbed at their headstone this morning, I swear I could hear them singing folk songs beneath the turf.

Kind regards,

Neil

Entangled

Back in September, I found this book in a broken drystone wall up near Redmires reservoirs. It had been placed there by the vlogger, Jack Roscoe whose channel is called "Northern Introvert". Fortunately, I was the first of his followers to get there.

Well, I must admit that a science-based book about fungi  is not the kind of book I would normally pick but because of the delightful circumstances by which I acquired "Entangled Life" by Merlin Sheldrake, I felt almost compelled to read it.

Merlin Sheldrake is an expert mycologist and passionate about his chosen area of study. He attended The University of Cambridge and later undertook his PhD study of underground fungal networks in Panama's tropical forests as a predoctoral research fellow at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute. 

He is not some sort of New Age charlatan promoting magic mushrooms. He is fundamentally a respected scientist who has discovered that the more he studies mycylial networks and fruiting fungi, the more he has yet to learn. Mycology is a branch of scientific enquiry that has not been greatly encouraged nor well-funded in our universities. Compared with say botany it is very much a poor cousin.

Honey fungus I spotted in a Lincolnshire churchyard ten years ago.

Just the briefly fruiting tip of an underground mycylial network.

Part of the problem with it is simply that so much of what you need to look at is below ground.

For me as a non-scientist there were sections of "Entangled Life" that I found hard to follow but I stuck with it to gain the reward of insights that I would never have predicted. I felt some of Sheldrake's enthusiasm and awe as well as his intellectual agility.

One of the things that I shall remember about this book is how our planet's plant life is invariably connected with mycylial networking. From grasses to mighty trees there is a powerful interdependent symbiosis happening just below our feet but is little known and by no means fully understood.

"The Guardian" said this when the book first came out:

A “door-opener” book is one with a specialist subject in which it finds pathways leading everywhere. This is a genre devoted to connectedness in all directions, 

and is one well suited to our times. Sheldrake’s book is a very fine example.

While travelling on a train recently, the ticket collector noticed what I was reading and remarked, "That's a bloody brilliant book!" and upon finishing it I  agree with him - even though I admit that I found the reading process hard going. Of the 358 pages in "Entangled Life", no less than a hundred are given over to acknowledgements, notes, an extensive bibliography and a comprehensive index.

Merlin Sheldrake

Unstone

General view of Unstone

A day of sunshine today. I was up and away just after nine, ready for the ten mile drive over into North East Derbyshire which borders the southern suburbs of Sheffield. Past Meadowhead and Low Edges then on through Dronfield on the B6057 till I reached Unstone. Left turn then up the lane to the main village where I parked Butch - my Nissan Juke.

Boots on and I was off in the sunshine - a six mile circle to complete. Heeding advice from a few well-meaning blog visitors, this morning I ate a bowl of porridge with a mashed banana in it and half a spoonful of honey too. There was proper fuel in the Pudding tank.

I walked through two tiny villages that are served by unclassified roads - quite off the beaten track. They were Hundall and West Handley. If I had then walked a further mile eastward I would have reached West Handley's sister villages - Middle Handley and Nether Handley.

In West Handley, I saw this sad plaque on the side of a house:-

I undertook a little research about this awful event and discovered that Eliza and Benjamin were not only husband and wife but also first cousins. A contemporary newspaper described Ben Hudson as "an idle, ignorant, selfish and cruel-hearted man". The fatal beating he gave Eliza with a hedge stake was as horrendous as it was unjustifiable. Ben Hudson was tried and found guilty of murder at Derby Assizes Court and later hanged in Derby Gaol.

Path across a field of  young rapeseed plants

Given recent rains, some of the paths I was following were quite treacherous so I walked with caution to avoid slipping down. As Monica (Beyond the Lone Islands), Jason (Arctic Fox) and Elsie (Drifting Through Life) have recently reminded us all, having a fall can have very regrettable outcomes for senior citizens. I did not wish to join that list.

It was a lovely, varied walk. I saw some things and made good use of a sunny morning at the very end of November.

Thatched farmhouse in West Handley

Food

Lunch today: Tinned mackerel in a spicy tomato sauce with

 baby broad beans and a mug of instant chicken soup

The last month has been quite weird for me in terms of the food I have consumed. In the previous seventy two years. I ate and drank what the hell I wanted and there were no significant constraints placed upon me either by my inner voice or any health professionals I encountered. Nobody ever said to me, "You need to lose some weight!"

And so I carried on with breakfast cereals, rounds of toast, bacon sandwiches, potato crisps, curries with rice, generous Sunday dinners, fish and chips, stir fries with noodles, stews, pies, plenty of vegetables,  salads, puddings, fruit and biscuits. My appetite was often ravenous. Onlookers might have whispered, "My - he likes his food!"

And through the decades there were pints of beer and bottles and cans of beer at home.  Pubs and clubs and holidays. Guzzling beer like a champion. Of course, beer is also a foodstuff.

High blood pressure and the daily consumption of anti-hypertension pills led me to the obvious conclusion that I needed to lose weight. If successful, this would surely make the pills less necessary and help me to stave off the possibility of slipping into Type 2 diabetes. Less weight could therefore mean a longer life.

For the last month I have been on the weight loss reduction medication "Mounjaro" which I have to self-inject once a week. Since the start I have had no bread whatsoever apart from two mini-nan breads with chicken curries I made.

Breakfast has mostly been a mug of unsweetened tea, a banana  and a handful of dried fruit or grapes. Occasionally, I have had two boiled eggs without toast.

My lunch menu has been more varied. Sometimes soup without bread or toast, sometimes tinned mackerel or sardines with vegetable  accompaniment. There have been no snacks between meals and at night no supper apart from an occasional rice cake. However my evening meals have been as per normal with reduced carbohydrate content.

"Mounjaro" has certainly affected my appetite. The old cravings for food have been driven back into their kennel. The medication is helping me to look at food differently and to be much more wary about what I eat and my portion sizes too.

This past week I have deliberately not drunk any beer since Sunday night at the pub quiz though I have drunk five glasses of red wine and some Baileys cream liqueur.

Summing up - I am happy with way it has gone so far. Change is happening. It is as if I have grabbed myself by the scruff of the neck and said, "Wake up Mr Pudding! Your old relationship with food cannot carry on as before!" But these are early days with "Mounjaro". We will see where we are beyond Christmas.

Quiztime

Unfortunately. the result of the "Quiztime" referendum that appeared here on November 18th was inconclusive. Consequently, the production team here at Pudding Tower will simply carry on in their own merry way creating random quizzes for your amusement. For example, today's quiz happens to be all about Canada. As usual, answers will be given in the comments that succeed this blogpost.

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1. Pictured here as a young man, who was this very famous Canadian songsmith?

2. In which Canadian city will you see this tall structure?

3. Approximately, how many lakes are there in Canada?

(a) over 25.000 (b) over 450,000   (c) over 2 million (d) over 1 billion

4. Shown here with his Yorkshire wife, who is this Canadian blogger? You can supply his name or the title of his blog. (Clue: his blog is listed in my sidebar)

5.  The largest and most northerly territory in Canada is called Nunavut but currently how many people live there according to the census of  April 2025?

(a) 4,150 (b) 41,500 (c) 415,000 (d) 1,415,000

6) Everybody knows that July 4th is American Independence Day but when is Canada Day? 

(a) July 1st (b) Also July 4th (c) July 7th (d) July 31st

7) Who is this famous Canadian writer?

(a) Alice Munro (b) L.M. Montgomery 

(c) Margaret Moore (d) Margaret Attwood

8. What is the name of the Major League Soccer team located in Vancouver?

(a) The Pioneers  (b) The Beavers

(c) The Whitecaps  (d) The Maple Leaf Warriors

9.  Who said,  "The only thing that makes sense is for Canada to become our cherished Fifty First State"?

(a) Big Bird from "Sesame Street  (b) Animal from "The Muppets" 

(c) Bart Simpson  (d) Trump

10. Poutine is considered to be the Canadian national dish. It is mainly french fries but topped with what?

(a) crispy onions and Brie cheese (b) maple syrup and salmon roe (eggs)

(c) bacon lardons and French mayonnaise (d) cheese curds and brown gravy.

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That's all folks! How did you do?

Lodger

 

For several days I had been noticing a small creature in our upstairs bathroom. Every time I had a shower it seemed to be sitting somewhere different. I thought it was just an unusual fly. In its resting position its wings are always extended left and right forming a "T" shape.

With its wings extended, the insect only measures  one centimetre across. I tried to take my own picture of our tiny lodger but my effort was not worthy of posting so I found a picture on the internet instead. It is an exact magnified version of how our little fellow looks.

It took me a while to find it via Google but in the end I was able to declare with confidence that it is a plume moth. Yes - a moth! Apparently, it unfurls its wings when flying but when stationary it rolls them up - as shown in the picture. Quite remarkable!

And here's another amazing fact about plume moths. There are over 1580 species of plume moth - all a little different from each other in terms of appearance and feeding habits. It is very likely that not all species of plume moth (Pterophoridae) have yet been discovered by entomologists. 

I guess that the same could be said of other small creatures on our planet. We do not know everything there is to know about them and probably never will. Some will certainly become extinct before we even discover them.

Did you know there are over 150,000 different known species of fly on this planet and over 160,000 different species of moth with many sub-species just like the plume moth. 

I hope that I see our plume moth when I am standing in the shower tomorrow morning but I further hope that he or she is not holding a tiny camera aimed in my direction! This temple is for members only.