Northern lights over Katla

Had a peek at the Katla Webcam and was a trifle startled to see a ghostly grey spike in the darkness. Thinking I was first to see an eruption, I tried a screengrab which only returned a blank rectangle. Then I took a mental deep breath and had a second, far longer look at the dancing ghostly images.

It was the good old Aurora Borealis. The northern lights. To think I almost let the rice for this evenings supper burn for this. I feel rather foolish.

I think this calls for a song.

Hi ho.

Ah-HA!

One of the few things I miss from the UK is Mustard. Colemans English Mustard to be precise. For me, no other condiment quite hits the spot when it comes to Ham.

Over here of course you can get some wonderful Bavarian smoked ham which, if you buy from the local Meat Store (Cross between a Butchers and a Delicatessen), is complemented to within an ace of gastronomic perfection by the slightest smear of Colemans finest. The downside of my craving for Colemans of course is that it usually only available from specialist 'British' shops in tiny jars at relatively high prices, or a trip to the USA is called for, which even I think is a bit excessive for mustard.

An anxiety of mine over this current 'no-fly' business from the UK is that stocks of Mr Colemans finest tongue scourer and taste bud pick-me-up may cease to become available over here for a while. Or at the very least the prices will rocket due to scarcity. So today, much to my joy and felicity, I found that the product I am so enamoured of might just be marketed under a different name, often seen gracing the same supermarket shelf as the less potent generic 'Yellow' mustard available here in Western BC. Keens. As in 'Keen as mustard', which I am informed is the original recipe.

Blind tastings will be done to confirm (or not) my suspicions. Bugger the volcanoes and the lack of flights from the UK. There will be no Mustard rationing in Western BC. An alternative source has been found. Huzzah! We're all saved!

Excuse me. Despite the current rain and chill today, I'm having a really nice day. TTFN.

Even better....

Have been a little concerned over this past week about the state of my health. I'm not sure whether it was the stress of the immigration paperwork or family visits and all their attendant problems, or even the abrasion of my relationship with Mrs S over related issues, but I was definitely feeling below par. Because I was waking up in the middle of the night to visit the toilet and having seen all the scary adverts about possible prostate problems, I took myself off to see my Doctor.

Although it's a bit disconcerting to be poked and prodded around by someone twenty years my junior, I related my symptoms and concerns. Last week I was given tablets to take, and packed off to get blood and urine tests. This morning I sat a little nervously in a consulting room, wondering what the news would be. Worrying not about myself, but how to break any putative bad news to my family. The tablets hadn't been agreeing with me, and had made me decidedly fuzzy headed and woozy. I'd stopped taking the bloody things because the side effects were turning out worse than the original damn symptoms. I wasn't looking forward to any more medication and wanted to avoid more pills if possible.

Well, the news is that my blood tests are clear, electrolytes nicely balanced, kidney function fine, blood pressure one twenty over eighty, resting pulse just under sixty, blood enzymes well within limits, so no incipient heart problems or indication of atheroma. No infections, viruses or other lurgi. Just a short term enlargement of the prostate, which I'm told is par for the course for a gentleman of my tender years. Considering the gratuitous self abuse I've lavished on this body over the years its resilience is nothing short of bloody miraculous.

Said to Doctor that I'd come in response to media coverage of prostate problems and some relatively minor symptoms. Her response. "I wouldn't bother about the media coverage. They just want us to be scared." Then promptly tossed the rest of my untaken medication into the recycling bin with unconcealed disdain. Good on yer, Doc. With that single gesture she won my complete confidence in her abilities as my physician.

In addition I spent half an hour on the phone this morning with one of my line managers who reassured me that they like what I'm doing, and to please carry on with the good work. So the sense that I think I've been banging my head against a brick wall for the past eighteen months is nothing they haven't seen before. They obviously haven't seen my expenses claim for last month then. Arf.

Mrs S and I had a nice lunch out to celebrate and we talked about me writing my experiences of Stepfatherhood into a book, the idea of which she approves.

It's been a nice day, but there's this nasty feeling lurking in the back of my mind that someone, somewhere is going to try and louse it up. Better make sure it's not me, then.