One year on....

I can't believe that a whole year has passed since I became bionic, but I do know that the troublesome hip is now a thing of the past. It was a similar sort of day a year ago, sunny and bright, and I was extremely nervous and very apprehensive. All the awful waiting was over and I knew that the Nuffield Orthopaedic Hospital was a centre of excellence. But I had probably read too much about possible post op complications......and spent too much time thinking about them. Signing the consent form was a definite leap of faith. How thankful I am that I took that leap!
So how best to celebrate my new hip's first birthday? A quick Rosemary Conley workout followed by a lunchtime swim at our local pool. In between lengths as I caught my breath, I chatted to a friend who asked after my new hip.
'Does it click?' she asked.
'Not at all', I replied.
'What make is your hip?' she then queried.
'Goodness, I didn't know there were different makes', I said.
'Oh yes', she continued, 'my son makes them. Some of the replacement hips click so loudly you can hear the person coming!'

I have heard of 'the Birmingham hip' but suddenly I found myself thinking of potential designer labels, such as

zip hip and yippee hippee

and possible strap lines for those marketing replacement hips.

'Clip into this hip - get back on your feet'

'Strain and pain? No more gyp with our new hip.'

I know that my high impact polyethylene and cobalt chrome stainless steel hip has transformed my life.... or should I write My trusty bounce has transformed my life?

A bientot France

Having returned from France just over a week ago, my photos are now sorted. Le Batut is 725 miles away, closed and secure for the Winter after the excitement, noise and fun of the Summer. The mighty oak will be dropping its leaves to carpet the drive whilst the geraniums sit inside, safe from the chills and frosts. The log pile, food for the woodburner, is ready and waiting for February, thanks to some good friends, WPH and my brother.

Our final night in France was spent at a logis close to Hardelot with its spectacular beach.

The following morning the pretty beach huts were empty and there were few people around. Those taking advantage of the warm October sunshine were out for fitness and exercise, as were WPH and I.

The outgoing tide had made wonderful patterns in the sand and the gulls were taking advantage of the many watery dips.

We stood and stared as a sand yacht sped along the waterline and after completing our brisk walk I took advantage of a quick sit down on a buoy.

What an amazing finish to our French summer! The new hip is now so reliable that I hardly give it a thought. Perhaps all the wine and good food of la belle France has something to do with that?

Which reminds me....I have a French quince crop to sort out. Maybe some quince jelly and quince cheese beckons.

Three months without a blog.

Where have the weeks gone? A long busy French summer and a wonderful time with the family.

What were the highlights? Seeing two of my grandchildren learn to swim.

What surprised me this summer? The glut of fruit.

What was the highest temperature? 40C whilst we were looking after our three youngest grandchildren.

What was the favourite game of the summer? Uno extreme, closely followed by Happy Families.

Did I have time to knit? Yes




Did I bake anything new? Yes, inspired by my son in law's peach tart, I made one too...yum

Who had a birthday? William and me.

How is the hip? Fantastic!

Seek and ye shall find.

During the past week WPH and I have enjoyed four eye opening walks. Massive caves, supersoft lichen and fast flowing streams have all contributed to the sensory stimuli, as well as a friendly hound, two startled stampeding deer, a friendly grass snake and a stupendous black woodpecker. Nature has a way of being noticed here.

Yesterday's walk though, turned out to be longer than expected. Our friends A and P and their dog Tessa often join us and suggested a moderately challenging petite rondonee; challenging because it involved a steep climb down a valley to a river bed by a ruined mill and it also meant leaving one car at the start of the walk and a second at the finish. We were well prepared with sticks, following our confrontation with the stampeding deer earlier in the week, and went down the valley in single file. The path was narrowed by recent deluges and in some places deep gulleys had formed where stones had been washed away but the hip coped admirably. Safely down we crossed a river via wobbly stepping stones, passed uprooted fallen trees and saw wonderful ferns normally found in garden centres. Over the next hour there were frequent mini streams to stride over and muddy boggy patches to negotiate. Finally emerging back into sunlight, with a further mile to A's waiting car, I glanced down at my wrist to check the time on my watch. It was one of those stomach churning moments as I realised my watch was no longer where it should have been. What were we to do? Even Tessa was tired so you can imagine how the humans felt! We all decided food was essential and I tried to be philosophical about my loss as we eventually went our separate ways.


Over lunch WPH and I discussed the options. We could try to forget the watch.... after all the odds of finding it were incredibly slim, or we could retrace our steps, without A and P and the use of their car and do the walk twice more. Parking our car at the finish we would walk to the start and then from the start to the finish again! Mmm, a difficult choice, on a warm sunny afternoon. But never ones to shirk a challenge you can guess which option we chose!

At 4.30pm our second walk began. We had to walk quite slowly with eyes down to stand the best chance of finding the watch. Our optimism waxed and waned as stones glinted in front of us. We recalled conversations of the morning as we passed various landmarks and of course the further we walked we reminded each other how the odds were lengthening. Never mind we thought, at least we had tried. Having finally reached the ruined mill we paused before the steep climb to the top of the valley. Imagine our surprise as an untidy looking black bird with a red crown to its head rose up in front of us, before flying to a nearby tree landing in the characteristic woodpecker pose. How I wished I hadn't left my camera behind. This is the best I can offer

Perhaps this was an omen? No, probably not we thought . Up the steep and gulley ridden path we climbed. Hot and tired we reached the start but still with no watch found. It was now 6.20pm. We had to brace ourselves for the descent, summoning up all our energy reserves. Halfway down WPH called out behind me 'hey, look at that!' I turned expectantly, to see him pointing to a motionless grass snake. We stood and watched as it gracefully slid quietly away. The ruined mill was approaching and the path, now seeming more familiar, was particularly tricky as we balanced on a grassy mound to avoid a deep rut. I glanced down to my left and there it was, glinting slightly.... MY WATCH. We were almost at the black woodpecker tree and after a congratulatory hug we decided that yes, the black woodpecker had undoubtedly been a lucky omen. We almost scampered home from that moment. With the watch safely in my pocket we knew the light in the wooded area was fading quickly. Reaching home at 8pm we relived the adventures of the lost and found watch and the highs and lows of our amazing day. The celebrations were pretty good too!

A celebration for WPH!

Strictly speaking Father's Day is still three days away but we decided to celebrate today. WPH has been extremely busy here over the past few weeks.... tree felling, grass cutting, painting and repairing have all featured on his 'to do' lists. Time then to take a much needed break.

Le Carre des Gourmets, newly opened in St Antonin, was our choice for a special lunch. Choosing a new restaurant may sound a bit risky but not when you already know the reputation of the owners and their chef.

Frederic and Veronique Raffi moved their business to this vacated riverside hotel during the winter. Builders and decorators have transformed the old 'pink hotel' into a stylish and attractive restaurant. Once the scaffolding disappeared it was placed on our must visit list. Today was not really warm enough for eating on the terrace but the views from it were still amazing.

WPH and I chose the menu decouverte, a set menu offered at weekday lunchtimes. For any foodie readers the actual menu can be seen on their website http://www.carredesgourmets.fr/mets.fr/

I had of course taken my camera but forgot to take a photo of the mise en bouche until I had nearly finished it....my apologies. However the crevette ile flottant was as tasty as its name suggests.

Other courses followed and believe me they were all delicious.

as were the liquid additions.

Happy Father's Day WPH!

Oh my goodness!

Yes, I really ran for my camera when I saw this amazing sight yesterday.

These are two western whip snakes (non venomous!) in an amorous clinch.

'Let's go for a walk'

Over the years WPH and I have enjoyed discovering many of the 'petites randonnees', (round walks), which abound in this area of France. Needless to say I am thrilled to be back in my walking shoes this summer and able to tackle some of the longer promenades. Last Sunday was perfect walking weather, not too hot, dry and with a gentle breeze. We chose a local walk we had done before, taking in two substantial hills which offer wonderful views.

Wild flowers, including orchids, were everywhere and my camera was soon clicking away.

We heard golden orioles, summer visitors from Africa, with their tropical throaty birdsong and WPH was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the golden flash as one flew past. Two and a half hours later and we made it home. I was very gratified when I glanced down at my pedometer.

6.8 miles is my longest walk for quite some time!

The things I do in France....

I've always been keen on the great outdoors and here in France there's always something outside demanding our attention. Today, having looked at the weather forecast, WPH decided he needed to cut the grass in the field before 'les orages' (thunderstorms) rendered the long grass saturated. The sit on mower, WPH's boys' toy, has had a dodgy battery for at least two years now. This hasn't been too much of a problem with jump leads and some assistance from yours truly, transferring revs from car to mower. Normally I sit in the car on the very steep hill adjacent to our garden, while WPH does the clever bit with the jump leads through a fence. Today however was different. Maybe I am becoming protective towards my new hip but I found myself suggesting we push the mower up the very steep hill and into the drive, so that I didn't feel so precarious sitting in the car, totally blocking the lane, but vulnerable to speeding Frenchmen, whilst revving the car. There is no photographic evidence of us pushing the mower but believe me it is a steep hill and the mower is very heavy but we finally made it!

Some expert revving and soon the mowing was underway.

Yet again I find myself thinking how lucky I am to be able to do crazy things like pushing a heavy mower up a very steep hill with la nouvelle hanche. I know of two people who are having major hip operations today and I hope their outcomes are as positive as mine. One is Beth, aged 8, and the other is J's friend. I wish them both well and hope they are also doing crazy things before too long...

She who dares ......

I realise that almost a month has passed since my last blog. No reason really but it may reflect the way life has settled down as a hipster. However significant improvements continue to take me by surprise and therefore others, facing a hip replacement, may be encouraged by my recent log of achievements.

• The other day I ran indoors spontaneously as it began to rain. I contemplated running a marathon too...not for long BUT the thought was there!


• When I rose from a chair yesterday I no longer needed to stand for a few seconds to collect my muscular strength before walking.


• Getting in and out of the car is a doddle and I managed the long drive down to our French home with minimal stiffness.


• I can now lift quite heavy items and carry them without pain.

But best of all is what I managed to do this morning. I was feeling a bit daring do... WPH says he is glad to see this aspect of my personality re-emerging. I decided to throw caution to the wind and handed him the camera....

And here is the evidence. I can SQUAT! Yippee.

Some intensive hip physiotherapy

Last week we returned from a wonderful six days in Venice where we had been celebrating our Ruby Wedding. This perfect romantic venue was planned last November, when I was newly bionic; the medieval part of the city, without cars, would provide plenty of walking opportunities.

After surviving a full body scan (fellow hipsters beware!) at Heathrow....despite my protestations about having a hip replacement and producing a card from the hospital to confirm it, I decided I was up for anything. Just as well. Standing, let alone balancing in the high speed water taxi, which transported us from the airport to Venice proper, tested all of my leg muscles.

But the first sight of St Mark's Basilica from the water was unforgettable.

And my first cappucino confirmed we had chosen the perfect destination.

The canals are never far away when walking around this special place and getting anywhere involves crossing the water several times. With more than two hundred bridges to go at there is plenty of choice for pedestrians! The Rialto bridge bustles with tourists, shops and vendors and once negotiated, leads to the vibrant fish market.

'Step ups' and 'step downs' were literally the order of the day as each bridge was traversed. Wasted muscles gathered strength daily as the intensive bridge therapy began to take effect.

And climbing fifty steep steps up to the balustrading on San Marco provided views of the Doge's Palace and a real sense of achievement, as well as terror for those more vertically challenged.


Full marks to the hip then....and what memories we have.

Back on the bike

I have really forgotten when I last cycled, but it was probably about a year ago. To coin a phrase, it became too difficult to get my leg over and too dangerous to stop and put my right foot to the ground, as the old hip steadily declined. The bike languished in the shed throughout the winter, gathering dust and cobwebs but with Spring beginning to appear and my improved hip confidence I decided to give it an airing last weekend. Cycling is an approved activity for hipsters like me as it is non impact and uses the wasted muscles in the hip and thigh very effectively. Time then to put myself to the test....

WPH kindly pumped up the tyres, the frame was wiped down and I managed the leg over bit without a twinge. Fantastic! Imagine my surprise though, when I glanced down into the bike's wicker basket....

.......there was a beautiful nest, literally nestling at the bottom of the basket, composed of leaves, moss and hair, but now forgotten. Cobwebs suggest it had been there since last summer, a wonderful hideaway for one of our garden visitors. Out came the bird books and the following description seems to fit.

'the nest, usually with a frontage of dead leaves, is made of moss and lined with hair, and is placed in some sort of hollow: in a bank, wall, tree-stump, old tin, and in many curious places, even in occupied houses.'

I feel very honoured that our friendly robin made such good use of my inactivity in such a curious place!