What Do I Know, Anyway?

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    I am an American living in Britain, a beautiful island in the North Atlantic. (more)
  • What To Eat?
    An index of my vegan recipes. See? Not deprived.
  • Where To Go?
    A list of my travel articles.
  • Wednesday Food Blogging
    My new food blog, where I post all the food news and recipes I used to publish here. (Not just on Wednesday, either.)
  • Best of WDIK
    If my blog were burning, these are the posts I'd save.

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July 05, 2009

When Americans Attack: Fourth of July in England

Last night we had a party for Independence Day, and someone (a highly educated pyromaniac) brought armaments fireworks. Anyone traveling down the M25 surely saw them rise over the pasture behind our house, and must have wondered if the Americans were launching an invasion of southern England.

These were no puny Roman candles. With Diwali and Guy Fawkes providing a market, the Brits really know their stuff when it comes to selling fireworks.

We didn't get good photos of the amazing sky display, as rockets shot through the trees, but from the ground the setup was pretty awesome.

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Fortunately, my dog is not afraid of fireworks. We actually had to stop her from going up to them to see what was making that interesting sulphur smell.

4thcupcakes

Daughter Number Two made cupcakes, and decorated them in the shape of a flag. I arranged the red, white and blue flowers, which is pretty much the extent of my flower arranging abilities.

Croquetdog

We played croquet, and decided the one who ends up with the ball wins.

Fireworks

Ground zero: So this is what was making all those interesting smells!

July 03, 2009

Friday Goose Blogging

Geese

These striking geese were at one of the ponds on the Bulstrode grounds. We almost didn't see them, they were so quiet. Not until we were almost upon this family of four did the parents stand up and make their presence known.

You can read more about Bulstrode here. I see not only is it a retreat for weary missionaries, but it's also a retreat for weary Canada geese, tired of our too hot summer.

July 01, 2009

A Stroll Through Bulstrode

Bulstrode

Bulstrode house and ground, a side view

Some friends were visiting from New Mexico yesterday and despite the heat wave we're having, they thought the weather was fine. I took them to Bulstrode, a spot nearby I've only recently discovered. While the flowers that were so abundant in April were no longer blooming, the walk around the grounds is still impressive.

Bulstrode is owned now by WEC International, a Christian organization that sponsors missionaries all over the world. It's a peaceful place, and I can see why people would want to work there.

Bulstrodelilypond

The lily pond

Bulstrode was once the home of the Duke of Portland and his famous Portland Vase. It was bought in 1810 by Edward Seymour, the Duke of Somerset (the same family of Jane Seymour and Edward Seymour, the Lord Protector of England during the reign of Edward VI). This explains the "S" on the tower here:

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Seymour left his mark on the tower.

The building was rebuilt in 1865 in the Victorian style. The grounds have been cultivated even longer, since the time of the Norman Conquest, when the property included all the area in the nearby town of Gerrards Cross. Most of the present gardens were the work of a descendent of the 12th Duke of Somerset, Sir John Ramsden, an authority on rhododendrons. The house was used during WWII as a training base for the RAF.

In 1966, the WEC bought the house, full of dry rot and deathwatch beetle, for £70,000. From the looks of it now, it was a bargain.

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The front entrance to Bulstrode.

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Along the garden walk.

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And this was the view in April, along the garden walk.

June 29, 2009

The Woods Are Full of Chlorophyll

Dogwoods

We're having a heat wave this week. Temperatures are expected to get up to 32C (89F). We're not used to that sort of heat. The dog hates it, in fact, I have to coax her out of the house when the temperatures are above around 70F. I'd call her a wuss, but I'm one too. (We prefer the term "delicate".)

Even the wooded paths where we walk every day are hot. Instead of racing through, we take our time, the dog eating the green green grass while I wait for her, patiently. She's not interested in exercise the way I am. She just wants a chlorophyll-filled snack.

Now that summer's arrived full-on, the ground is covered in bracken, those ferns you see in the photo.

Bracken

A sea of green so deep you could dive in. But don't.

June 27, 2009

Emulating Farrah

When I was a teenager, my favorite television show was Charlie's Angels. My favorite was Jaclyn Smith, but of course like every other girl my age I wanted Farrah Fawcett's hair. Never mind that my hair was red, and not nearly thick enough to form a barely tamed mane, I still spent hours with hot rollers, a curling iron, whatever torturous implement I could find.

Click below for the result—it's not pretty, and the 70s decor is pretty awful too. (Yes, that was a fake plant. Real fire though.)

I was sad to hear of her death. She was an icon, and in the end, a pretty admirable one. I could have done worse.

Continue reading "Emulating Farrah" »

June 26, 2009

Friday Swiss Cow Blogging

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Driving the cows up the mountain.

Every morning during our stay in Switzerland we'd wake to the clanging of cowbells, as the cows were driven down the road (there was only one road winding through the Lauterbrunnen Valley). And in the evening we'd hear the clanging again, as the cows made their way back up the road and into the mountain.

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A couple of hikers follow the cows.

My husband happened to get caught in the traffic jam caused by the cows, and he figured out how the whole thing worked. Before the cows passed, someone went by and roped off all the driveways. The grass was already roped off, so the cows couldn't wander from the road. After the cows passed, someone would unlatch the ropes so cars could exit the drives. Someone also shoveled any poop the cows left, leaving the road very clean. This is, after all, Switzerland, where messes aren't allowed.

Here's a photo showing the ropes:

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And here they are heading into the mountain:

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June 25, 2009

The Hills Are Alive

My daughters took most of these photos, since I was mostly in bed, and my camera had little battery juice. But I thought you'd enjoy them.

I'm saving the ones of cows, for tomorrow's Friday Cow Blogging.

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The Lauterbrunnen Valley, south of Interlaken in the Swiss Alps.

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There were several avalanche shelters along the road.

Continue reading "The Hills Are Alive" »

Misplaced Loyalties

Recent polls have shown that the American public supports the so-called "public plan" whereby the government provides health insurance along with private insurers. But when polled on whether they support a public plan if it means it would drive many private health insurers out of business, support drops to 37%.

What I can't figure out is why Americans are so loyal to the very same insurance companies who'd drop them like a hot potato if they ended up very sick.

Silly Americans. Blue Cross just isn't that into you.

June 22, 2009

Lose 10 Lbs While Enjoying Great Views!

View

View from the chalet in Switzerland, before the battery died and disaster struck.

Climb every mountain!
Ford every stream!
Follow every rainbow!

(Insert sound of record scratching...)

I was planning to do all those things on my vacation to Switzerland and Salzburg, Austria, including the famous Sound of Music tour. But things didn't go quite according to schedule...

Saturday morning I ran to the train station, in a hurry to catch my Eurostar train to Paris, where I was meeting my family (they'd been there three days, with the car). When I finally got to my seat, I laughed, remembering the nightmare I'd had, where I'd been trying to run through an airport to catch my plane (after hanging out with Alec Baldwin in the lounge) and my feet wouldn't seem to move. At least that portion of the dream hadn't come true!

I met the family in Paris, we loaded the car, and headed out of town. That's when the first disaster struck: the air conditioning broke, and we were stuck in hot, sticky Paris traffic. The drive to Switzerland was longer than Google maps estimated—and wouldn't you know central Europe was having a heat wave?

We didn't pull into our destination until after 11 p.m. It's no wonder the local police stopped us as we drove down the road through the Lauterbrunnen valley—no one but drunks are awake in rural Switzerland at that hour, even on a Saturday. It's the cows. They have to be driven up and down the roads early every morning, and again in the evening, as we found out every morning when we heard the clanging of cow bells.

Uncharacteristically, I slept late the next morning, not coming fully awake until I saw the amazing views. The chalet we'd rented was located at the very end of the road that snaked through the Lauterbrunnen valley south from Interlaken. You literally couldn't drive any further, unless you were driving cows. That meant we were surrounded by mountain peaks, with waterfalls (Lauterbrunnen valley has 72 of them) cascading down from mountain crevices.

I rushed to get my camera, and discovered my battery was almost dead. And I'd forgotten my charger. I went into a funk, sure my vacation was ruined—if you can't photograph it, you weren't really there, right? But at that point I didn't yet know the meaning of ruined.

I was planning a trip into Bern to look for a camera charger, probably a fruitless task, when I started experiencing stomach pains. I soon realized I wasn't going anywhere further than the toilet the next day. Traveler's diarrhea, they call it. A stomach bug. These things usually last 24 hours with me, but this bug was persistent, offering fever and chills and body aches as bonuses. Forty-eight hours later, it showed no signs of abating.

Despite this, we drove to Austria on Tuesday, to continue our vacation as scheduled. We even stopped in Liechtenstein, but all I could do was wait in the car while the rest of the family trooped up to view the castle of the last remaining heir to the Holy Roman Empire. Despite my interest in European history, I was content to gaze at a postcard.

I was determined the rest of the family would have a good time. This may be, I told myself, our last family vacation. And it was to be a dream vacation, culminating in the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg. But I was unable to do anything except walk from bedroom to bathroom to sofa and back again. On Wednesday I sent the family into the city to take the tour, happy to see them go—it meant I didn't have to share the sofa. I slept fitfully, gazing at the mountain I could see from the window, wondering if that was the one Maria twirled about on. I convinced myself it was, just to say I'd seen it. (It's actually located 10k from the Salzburg Abbey, which makes her a true miracle worker to make it back in time for dinner!)

Meals—which I'd envisioned as lovingly prepared in our kitchen, with locally-sourced produce and the French wines we'd picked up at Auchan— consisted of a few crackers for me, while my daughter cooked pasta for the rest of the family. I weighed myself on the scale in our apartment, shocked to find I'd lost 10 pounds in five days. I was sipping water constantly, but it wasn't reaching my tissues. I was shrinking.

At night I tossed and turned on uncomfortable beds, feverish, with a single lumpy pillow and duvet, longing for a good old American sheet and comfortable mattress. I would never, I swore, travel to Europe again without bringing my own sheet to cool off during heat waves and fevers. (Europeans don't use top sheets, only a duvet and fitted sheet.)

By Thursday, I'd had enough. I needed medical attention, and I needed my own bed. I broke the news to my family that we were cutting our "vacation" short. When I realized there were US military bases right on our way home (we can be treated there, due to my husband's retiree status) I decided a visit to Landstuhl Medical Center would be much more exciting than the stop we'd previously planned in Cologne. (Though Landstuhl is where wounded troops from Afghanistan and Iraq are sent, it also treats the huge American military community based at Ramstein.)

I don't remember much about the drive, only the efficient German toilets. And somehow the sat nav diverted us through downtown Munich. But by that point I was too weak to toss it out the window.

When we arrived at the Landstuhl ER, the wonderful staff treated me quickly, despite a busy backlog of patients. They hooked me to an IV and pumped four liters of fluids, potassium, and antibiotics through my veins. When I left in the wee hours of Friday morning, I felt downright plump.

I'm home now, resting, adoring my bed, and I've finally killed the travel bug—both kinds. I never want to leave home again. Not even for the best views in the world.

June 13, 2009

I'm Off to the Alps

I'm off to a secret location somewhere in the Alps. But here is a live webcam. Keep an eye out for me; I'll be the one creeping up behind the cows with my camera.

June 12, 2009

Friday Calf Blogging

Pretty calf

This calf is the cutest thing I ever saw. (And I've seen a lot of cute things since I started Friday Cow Blogging, believe me.) He's the same calf from last week at Stonehenge, only close-up. I thought he deserved his own post.

He let me get really close, but whenever I reached out to pet him he backed off. Most cows are really, really friendly and curious about new humans. A farmer on Farming Today this morning was talking about her dairy cow who follows the family around like a pet. She didn't mention what would happen to her after she stopped producing milk, so I tried not to think about it.

June 11, 2009

"This Is Personal"

The best thing you can do to educate yourself about the tragic and senseless shooting at the Holocaust Museum yesterday is to read this, by Mark Blumenthal, who normally writes about polls, never the personal. But this time it struck home, as he writes about his father-in-law's last visit to the Museum:

We wandered into the museum, through the same doors and into the same foyer where shots rang out this afternoon. My wife had given us visitor passes that she receives as a member of the Museum. The lines were long, and it was not obvious which line we needed to stand in.

Pop was having none of it. He walked away from me and wandered up to the museum staffer standing at the head of the long line leading to the elevators that takes all visitors to the museum exhibits. I thought for a moment that Pop was going to ask directions. I was wrong.

He thrust out his arm in the direction of the staffer, displaying the number the Nazis tattooed on his arm at Auschwitz just a few inches from her face. Without making eye-contact and barely breaking stride, Pop kept walking. Understandably, the staffer barely blinked. She didn't make a move to stop him.

And he reminds us:

The guards and staff at the Holocaust Museum have a special duty. The do more than just protect and operate one of Washington's many heavily trafficked museums. On a daily basis, they help open the doors to the elderly survivors of the atrocities of World War II. As my stories attest, they do it with a remarkable degree of kindness and professionalism.

Thanks to Officer Steven Tyrone Johns for doing his duty, and deepest condolences to his family.

June 09, 2009

Write Your Own Caption

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Couldn't resist. Write your own caption, please.

(Official White House photo by Pete Souza) Via White House Flickr photo stream.

June 06, 2009

D-Day Remembrance

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Colleville-sur-Mer, France

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Omaha Beach, Normandy

June 05, 2009

Friday Cow Blogging

Cowbutts

A somewhat artistically arranged display of cow butts.

When we went to Stonehenge last weekend, I decided to explore the paths that led to the burial mounds rather than the route around the stones themselves. After all, I've seen the stones many times—I've lost count—and was there only a week or so before, listening to the audio I've almost memorized now.

So we walked through a field surprisingly filled with cows, which meant of course that I hardly paid the mounds any attention and focused my (still defective) lens on the bovine beauties. These cows were joined by two bulls, the lesser of whom you see there on the right. I'm kind of glad they all had their backsides toward me; I wasn't anxious to attract his attention, though he seemed amiable enough.

Here's another one, with the stones in the distance (next to an otherworldly blob, courtesy my defective lens). This calf was so pretty I didn't even notice the stone circle was in the background until I chose it from my imported photos.

Stonescalf

He let me get pretty close, realizing my broken Nikon was no threat, but not close enough to actually touch him. Otherwise I think I'd have put him in the back of the Volvo and brought him home, he was so cute.

You can also see the cars in the background, some of the million or so visitors that visit Stonehenge every year. Not sure if they count repeaters like me twice.

May 31, 2009

Aspire to Visit Salisbury Cathedral

Salisburycathedral

The tallest spire in Britain

Salisbury Cathedral is located about 10 miles south of Stonehenge. It's worth a visit, and if you visit, definitely take one of the tours offered by the guides. That's the best part.

You'll also be able to see the finest surviving copy of the Magna Carta (originally it's thought there were 44 copies made, written in a shorthand Latin). It's in perfect condition, because it was filed away in a library and only discovered in the 19th century.

Continue reading "Aspire to Visit Salisbury Cathedral" »

May 28, 2009

Mystery Solved!

Druidsstonehenge

The mystery of who built Stonehenge can finally be solved.

These Druid-like creatures were caught hanging around the ancient site. I think this puts an end to the mystery, don't you?

May 24, 2009

The Cricket

We went and cheered on the home town cricket team yesterday. Of course we have no idea how the game is played, but it was fun nevertheless. When they took a break for tea we left, so we don't know if our team got trounced or not.

Flyball

This photo gives new meaning to the term "fly ball" doesn't it?

Dogwatching

These dogs are avid cricket fans. The one on the left, Jake, lives near the field and wanders around, never going on to the field during play.

Cricket

Something got on my lens, but you can still see the action. If "action" is the proper word for a cricket game.

From Dublin to Dorset

My daughter went to Dublin and all I got was this blog post.

Sounds like she had a good time. I'm taking them to Dorset today. Lots of interesting stuff to see there.

We've been so busy that yesterday I forgot an important occasion. We have a bit of a competition each year to see which one of us will eventually remember our anniversary. Last night, while watching Gran Torino, I got a little misty eyed when Clint Eastwood was explaining how he convinced the "best woman in the world" to marry him. Then suddenly it hit me: "Happy anniversary!" I shouted to my husband, who was also watching the same scene.

Guess that answers my question. I am not the best woman in the world.

Certainly not the best blogger.

May 22, 2009

Friday Sheep Blogging

Blacklamb

These black lambs live inside the stone circle at Avebury in Wiltshire. The National Trust volunteer explained they were there to crop the grass, but I think they're really there to give tourists something to photograph in front of the stones.

Sheepbarrow

The mums have shaggy long hair, which I understand is more valuable as wool. Regular dense-wool sheep aren't worth shearing for their fleece.

Blackie

This baby ran to get under the shade of one of the large stones, which were placed there by Neolithic peoples several thousand years ago in order to give their lambs a place to hide from the fierce Bronze Age sun. (The grass is really greener than that; I had to lighten it up in order to see the lamb.)

Sheepavebury  

When walking through a field of sheep, you should mind where you step.

Sleepinglamb

This lamb was taking a nap. He'd had a hard day, posing for all the tourists.

May 20, 2009

A Very Disturbing Post at TPM

I find this TPM post very disturbing:

I was out of the office and offline for most of the day at a graduation event. So I'm just coming on now. But for those of you following the Pelosi story, over at TPMmuckraker Zack Roth has a series of posts raising more and more questions about whether Nancy Pelosi was really told any of this stuff.

No, not the Pelosi story—that's pretty much a tempest in a teapot. I'm talking about Josh Marshall, one of the best known and most widely read political bloggers (read so widely that newspaper columnists occasionally quote him accidentally) who feels the need to explain why he's been "out of the office" and "offline" all day. Apparently it's such an unusual occurrance that it has discombobulated him to some degree.

Recently Josh took a vacation, the first in about a decade, I recall him saying at the time. He was worried about how he'd deal with the off-time.

I'm more worried about how those we read for commentary on world events are getting increasingly insulated from the lives of ordinary people, who think nothing of going to a graduation and missing breaking news on some minor political scandal.

I like Josh Marshall, I really do. I read him almost every day. But I wish he'd get out more, not less. I wish he'd spend some time among people who aren't so enthralled by partisan battles, in order to get some perspective. We all need a reality check occasionally. I know when I've been spending too much time on the Internet I am often surprised when the real people who populate my daily life aren't as upset about some big to-do as I have become. This is when I appreciate my nieces' Facebook updates, which are usually along the lines of "BORED at work!"

See? The kids are alright. No tempest, only boredom. Somehow I think civilization will survive that.

May 18, 2009

Twitter, The Killer App

You know that song "Twitter Killed the Blogging Star?" Okay, maybe you don't know that song. Maybe I just made it up.

Someone should write it though. Because it's true. You'll find me on Twitter, if you care to see what I'm doing from minute to minute. Or to see what strikes my fancy from time to time. (That's known as re-tweeting over there, or an RT.)

I'm finding less and less to blog about these days. Just not as angry as I once was, I guess.

Funny how it's hard to express anger in a tweet.

I'll try to post some photos soon. Maybe. And the recipes and food blogging are still taking place.

Meanwhile, here are a few lines from that song I'm writing:

They took the credit for your second symphony.
Rewritten by machine and new technology,
and now I understand the problems you can see.

Oh oh
!
Twittering killed the blo-ogging star

Oh wait, that's too many characters....

May 14, 2009

Things We Saw

Today, we saw lots of interesting places in a nearby village. Although I'd been to this town many times, I'd never realized how much there was to see there. Here are a few photos I took:

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First we saw a zoo, with lots of animals in tiny cages.

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A pretty semi-detached cottage, with lace curtains in the windows, made us want to wander in for tea.

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Not far away were some students entering Clark College, just in time for class.

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Two trains raced past each other between villages.

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Outside the town hall, a man was speaking to a crowd that had gathered.

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We went to this church, where they were having a service.

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Nearby was a Fun Fair...wished we could have stayed longer!

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Then we saw a thatched cottage on fire! Fortunately, the firefighters had it under control in minutes.

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Some sheep grazed underneath the pretty windmill, next to the railroad tracks.

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There was a castle, too, where red-coated soldiers were exercising in the yard.

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Then we passed by a gypsy camp, with colorful gypsy caravans and a cooking fire.

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Not far away, a herd of deer emerged from a forest.

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We interrupted a polo match....

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and watched a croquet game on the lawn.

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Some Brownies were decorating a May Pole next to a church.

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We had a great view of one of the famous white horses, carved in chalk on the hillside overlooking the train.

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In the castle ruins, archers were practicing.

Continue reading "Things We Saw" »

May 03, 2009

May Flowers

Invitingpath

If you are looking for a distraction from the endless distractions of the World Wide Web, might I suggest this path?

I took so many great photos yesterday at Wendover Woods I'm having a hard time selecting the best ones. I've flagged about 20, and will weed (!!) them out and post them later, I promise.

But I wanted to give you an example now, perhaps to inspire me to ignore the siren calls of the internet this morning and reflect on what's really important.

Flowers. That's right, flowers are far more important than swine flu, political swiping, and the financial crisis, all of which have consumed far too much of my attention.

From now on it's all about the bluebells. And the wisteria.

May 01, 2009

Friday Horse Blogging

Horses

The pretty red head shakes the hair from her eyes, while the pale horses come to see if we have apples.

Not far from here there's a riding stable. The horses can be seen all year from the main road through town, but I'd never gone over there, due to a confusing sign at the stile at the entrance into the pasture.

But the other day my friend and I walked through the pasture, and these lovely horses came to greet us. They weren't bothered by the dog, who had kindly covered herself in horse poop so as to be less threatening to the poor beasts.

She's thoughtful like that.

Horsenod

This guy kept nodding his head, in answer to my "Aren't you pretty!" comment.



Horse

This dark one didn't want to be left out.

April 29, 2009

Uh Oh

My husband came home last night from the US with a cold and fever. Should I:

a. Alert the authorities.
b. Wash my hands.
c. Lock him in the attic.

I'm going with d, take the dog and get out of the house for a long walk, hoping the infection will be gone when I get back.

April 27, 2009

Swine Flu: Time to Panic?

A couple of years ago, when bird flu was discovered in England, I went on a knowledge expedition, reading everything I could find out about influenza, pandemics, and their causes. What I learned scared me, enough so that I prepared a "bird flu emergency box", with candles, soap, and other emergency rations.

The scary thing about pandemic influenza is its propensity for morbidity among the young and healthy. Before, whenever I'd read about infectious diseases, I'd give myself a mental pat on the back, thinking with my healthy immune system—a product of my healthy diet and the gallons of green tea I drink—I won't be at risk. After all, I hardly ever get sick with the usual cold viruses.

But then I read about the virulent 1918 influenza pandemic, when young, healthy people were the most likely to die—exactly the opposite from what occurs in usual flu epidemics, which are deadly for old people and immune compromised individuals.

The reason this happens is because an excellent immune system is the means by which the virus kills. The body's immune reaction causes the lungs to fill with fluid, and the patient to expire from lack of oxygen. This process of overreaction by the immune system is called a "cytokine storm".  Here's a more technical description:

Once infected with a pathogenic influenza, the blood vessels in a patient’s lungs become porous and fibrinogen—a protein involved in blood clotting—leaks into the lungs. The protein clogs the lungs’ alveolar sacs, where gas exchange takes place, and an acute respiratory disease syndrome results. In a desperate effort to save its charge, the immune system recruits such a storm of immune cells that the lungs suffer oedema. In effect, patients drown in their own fluid only days after infection. Patients with the most responsive immune system produce the greatest immune storms. It remains to be seen, however, whether the same mechanism explains the age distribution of the current outbreak.

I've read horrible descriptions of patients dying during the 1918 pandemic, first turning blue, then black, coughing blood, their lung sacs bursting—truly scary. Scary enough to wipe the smug look off my face, as I thought of my healthy young daughters, my own super charged immune system, hopped up on green tea and antioxidents.

We'd be the first to die in a pandemic.

So with the advent of a novel swine flu virus, which has the potential to become a pandemic, I wondered: is it time to panic? Or is this a false alarm? And most importantly, will modern medicine save us?

There are some puzzling aspects of this new virus. First, it's a combination of a bird flu virus and a swine flu, both of which have the ability to infect humans. There is speculation it may have been hatched in a large hog producing plant in Vera Cruz, near a poultry processing plant. That's no surprise, for anyone aware of how the close proximity of industrial farm animals contributes to the likelihood of serious pathogens evolving. (Again, this article explains that very well.)

Its mortality among the young and healthy in Mexico is the most frightening aspect of the current swine flu. Again, not that unexpected, if you've read about the 1918 pandemic, which killed many young men fresh from the trenches of the First World War.

But the oddest thing I've read about this new flu is its lack of morbidity elsewhere. As I write this, early in the afternoon on April 27, there are no reported deaths in any location other than Mexico. That could change, and very likely will, but for now no one has had a serious case outside of Mexico.

What does that mean? It's unlikely due to poor health care in Mexico versus the rest of the world. Mexico City, where most of the deaths occurred, has access to health care, same as any large city, and to treat a serious case of flu all you really need to do is get to a hospital—no fancy medical equipment is needed. Tamiflu, an antiviral drug (NOT a vaccine, as some reporters in yesterday's White House news conference seemed to think) is effective against this flu, so far. But curiously, no one outside of Mexico seems to have had a serious enough case to call for it. Indeed, it's likely few patients with mild flu symptoms would have gone to the doctor if there hadn't been reports of swine flu in Mexico.

Reports suggest that during the 1918 pandemic, an earlier, milder, wave of flu hit, then months later, the pandemic became more virulent. It's possible we're seeing a first wave of mild severity, but that doesn't explain why Mexico has been hit by such a virulent strain.

Has the virus already mutated to a less virulent form? Viruses can't kill their hosts too quickly, or they don't get passed on to other hosts. Their chance to replicate is nipped in the bud when they kill their host. So it's to their benefit to only make a host mildly ill. Perhaps this is a very intelligent virus, that quickly learned to lay off the morbidity. (That's a joke; viruses aren't really intelligent, though the natural selection process makes it seem as if they are.)

The virus seems to be spreading around the globe pretty fast. This morning a case was confirmed in Spain. Canada has several cases, as does New Zealand—all traced to Mexico tourist travelers. But if all it does is make people mildly ill, then it's no worse than the typical seasonal flu.

Unfortunately, that's likely to change, as the acting director of the Center for Disease Control, Dr. Richard Besser, warned yesterday.

When it does, I'll make sure my Pandemic Preparedness Box is up to date. I'll buy new batteries, fill the bathtub with water, buy cough medicine and fever reducers. And I will panic.

But for now, I'm not panicked. Just curious. 

Places where I go for information:

Effect Measure
H5N1

Aetiology

Breaking news

And what started it all: The Bird Flu Book.

April 24, 2009

Friday Cow Blogging

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We saw these cows at the end of our hike, near Turville (aka Dibley). When we got to the edge of a field and turned a corner, there they all were, crowded at the gate waiting to talk to us. I guess they'd heard about the lamb rescue we'd performed earlier on the hike, and wanted to see the hero hikers.

One actually licked my hand as I stretched it out:

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A big fat tongue, slurping me in gratitude. How nice!

April 22, 2009

Dibley, aka Turville

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Today we went to Turville, better known as Dibley, from the BBC series The Vicar of Dibley. The outdoor scenes from the series were shot here, though the indoor scenes were filmed in a studio. In the opening credits you get a birdseye view of the surrounding countryside, which really is as green and lush as it looks on TV.

It's easy to spot landmarks from the series.Fortunately, there was not much mud, so we didn't see the neck-deep mud puddle Geraldine fell into during one of the last shows.

Nor did we run across the sheep farmer, Owen Newitt, but we did come across a lamb, separated from her mum. We performed a rescue, reuniniting the little lamb with a grateful ewe. (My fellow hikers did, anyway, while I held onto the dog's lead. We did consider using her to herd the lamb toward the open gate, but she informed me she doesn't do herding.)

Turville is also famous for its windmill, featured in the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and it was also the location for the film 101 Dalmations. Someone who used to live here said they brought in horses to herd the puppies during the filming. For another film, the producers crashed a plane nearby, after first telling the residents to ignore the plane crash.

You can read more about Turville here, and see better photos than the ones I took, which are below.

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April 20, 2009

This Must Be Discouraged

Duckfed

This sign at the pond reads, in typical polite British-speak: "Kindly refrain from feeding the ducks. This food has caused a rat problem. This must be discouraged."

My dog understands why we mustn't encourage rats, but she sure liked it when people tossed bread out for the ducks. She fondly remembers many good tidbits scavenged in this location.

Andorra

  • Door at Sant Joan de Caselles
    A small visit to a small country.

Bavaria

  • Mittenwald
    A summer holiday in Germany's southern district.

Belgium

  • Ghent
    A trip to Brussels, Leuven, and Ghent

Toulouse

  • Inside des Jacobins
    Toulouse, France, and its many churches

The Netherlands

  • Parade route
    The Netherlands, aka Holland, is at its peak in April.

Rome

  • Spanish Steps
    Where have you been all my life?

Brussels

  • Hotel de Ville in the evening
    A one-day trip to the EU capital.

Ireland

  • Tintern Abbey
    Trip to southern Ireland, including Tipperary county and Kerry County

Cornwall

  • Windmills
    A rainy trip to Cornwall in November

Dorset

  • Durdle Door
    The Dorset coast in Southern England.

Dublin

  • The Clarence Hotel
    Dublin, Ireland

Fairford

  • Seagulls Claim Their Patch of Sun
    The small village of Fairford, in the southern Cotswolds, has one of the few examples of pre-reformation stained glass in its village church.

Greenwich

  • Cutty Sark
    Greenwich, home of the Prime Meridian

Hadrian's Wall

  • High Force in Teesdale
    Trip to Hadrian's Wall, in Northumberland, May '05

The Highlands

  • Coach House
    Our trip to Scotland's Highlands.

Lake District

  • Carlisle Castle Keep
    The Lake District, May 2006

Lambing in Wales

  • Gambler
    Lambing trip to Wales, March 2006

Loch Lomond

  • The Falkirk wheel swings
    Loch Lomond, Scotland's prettiest loch

North Wales

  • St Bueno's church
    Snowdonia, Llyn, and Anglesey, all in one convenient package.

Oxford

  • Oxford Castle, under construction
    Some photos taken at Oxford, home of the dodo bird.

Stratford-upon-Avon

  • Riveravon
    Stratford, home of Shakespeare, captured in photos.

Yorkshire

  • Ribblehead  Viaduct
    Photos of Yorkshire, including the Yorkshire Dales National Park

My Dog

  • Guess what I'm thinking...
    In which the dog stars in her own photo album.