My Health Record looks like

a good initiative at first glance. 
The idea of being able to go to a doctor or hospital anywhere in the country and have them pull up your records in an instant on a computer would surely make life easier for everyone?
Or would it?
I have been thinking about this.
There is, to the best of my knowledge, nothing in my medical records that I would be concerned about any medical professional knowing. They would probably look at them and think, "A fairly boring sort of animal." I don't have anything exotic wrong with me.
But that is only "to the best of my knowledge". I have absolutely no idea what the doctors I have seen over the years have put on my record. It could be anything. It could be something like, "This animal is an absolute pest. She irritates me beyond measure."  I think that is not at all likely - after all I try not to see them unless it is really essential - but how do I know?
The Senior Cat would have a long and complex history by now. He is 95 and things happen when you live that long.  As I have had to provide detailed information to hospital emergency departments about him I know that being able to pull up accurate and up to date records about him would likely be useful.
And therein lies another problem. How accurate are his records? How up to date are they? 
I think our current GP is probably reasonably good at keeping things up to date but I also know she had to ask me something the last time I went to visit her - something that should have been on my medical record from the beginning. It is something I, wrongly, assumed was there. It is something I should have been asked about when we first moved to the practice more than 30 years ago. 
And what if this was something that should be kept highly confidential? It isn't anything like that in the least. I am not in the same position as a young refugee I know. Now in her twenties she was forced to marry a man at the age of twelve. He sexually assaulted her with such violence that she will never have children. Yes, her doctor knows but she doesn't want it available to everyone. I know because I went with her when she visited the doctor for the first time. (And yes, I asked her permission before I mentioned it here. That's how sensitive the information is.) It isn't relevant if she attends the clinic for a 'flu vaccination. 
It makes me wonder whether it will stop doctors recording some information - or whether they will be less than honest about other things?
As a kitten I remember that doctors often made house calls. They were treated with the utmost respect.We were in awe of them and their knowledge. Now I call my GP by her given name and have no qualms about asking her questions. (And she can do it about other things in reverse!) That's good. 
But I know that not everyone has that sort of relationship with their GP and many people don't want bouts of mental illness or hospital treatment for drug and alcohol issues widely known. Women who have been raped and assaulted often want to keep it hidden. All that would be available because, despite the supposed safeguards, these things would simply happen.
And the biggest question of all - what if the information is hacked? Yes, there are all sorts of supposed safeguards in place but the reality is that anything that can be hacked will be hacked or, as a computer whiz friend of mine said, "Look Cat if you can think about hacking it then it can be hacked."
Now, do I remove myself from the register?

The council rates bill

arrived last week.
It has been sitting there smiling malevolently at us ever since. It does not need to be paid until mid-September so I am tempted to ignore it completely.
   "What," the Senior Cat asked me, "Do we get for our council rates?"
It's a good question. Today is "bin" day. The council vehicle will come past and pick up our general waste. Two other people use our bin because, between us, we have so little general waste that it can all go in one bin.  This week is also "green (garden waste) bin" and another unit will come by and pick that up. We don't always put that bin out by any means. Most of our garden waste goes back into compost.
I said this. 
   "Mm...and I suppose the street sweeper came the other day," the Senior Cat said. 
    "Yes but M....(our neighbour) had swept everything up the day before."
    "And they water the tree occasionally."
    "I kept the poor thing watered right through the summer," I growled. Our entire street kept the trees alive over summer.
I thought about it some more. The council is responsible for the footpaths. The one in front of our place is in a shocking state. Nothing has been done to it since my parents moved in back in 1984.  
Of course there are other things the local council is responsible for and of course they can sometimes do a good job of doing it. All the same it was difficult to work out what else the Senior Cat was getting in the way of services.
    "There's the library," I said - trying to be helpful here.
The Senior Cat thought about that and then said,
    "I suppose so."
I know what he means though. We use the library but then the library also uses me. I don't mind that because of the way I view libraries as a vital part of community services. 
     "And we used the dog catcher once," the Senior Cat said.
Yes, of course we did. I remember that very likeable little dachshund who followed the Senior Cat home once. We had to shut her in the laundry and wait for the dog catcher to come and collect her. Fortunately she was chipped and he could return her to her owner. 
Perhaps that makes it all worthwhile...but it is an expensive way to return a pet to her owner.
 

Newsreaders

- are those people who read the stories that keep us connected with what is going on in the world, or perhaps what we are told is going on in the world.
I had occasion to look something up yesterday and, in doing so, came across a list of newsreaders for television. It made curious reading.
Now let it be said here that my television watching is extremely limited. I see around the first half hour of the SBS news. For those of you in Upover and elsewhere I must explain that the "SBS" is the national multi-cultural channel. Their news service, while it has a lot of national content, does tend to offer a bit more in the way of international news. I watch it so that I know what people are being told. It isn't always what I am being told by any means - but that is another story. Once they reach the sports section I switch off. As long as I have a vague notion about the cricket (and it is very vague) then I am not interested  in more sport.
But the news readers do interest me. They often seem to end up as somewhat of a celebrity. I am not sure why. Perhaps reading the news on a commercial channel is different? I don't know.
I don't for one minute think it is an easy job, just the opposite. It doesn't just mean sitting there and reading what is in front of you in a nice clear speaking voice. You need to understand what you are reading if you are going to make it make sense to other people.  You need to be prepared to do the occasional interview. You need to be prepared to finish a story and then, instead of going on to the next item, give out some "breaking" news. There is timing to consider...and how on earth do you pronounce some of those names even if there are phonetics there to help?
I have been interviewed on radio a number of times but those interviews have been leisurely affairs, planned ahead. (I cringe at the sound of my own voice on radio. I sound dreadful.) Those interviewing me have been able to ask questions, ask more questions to check things, review and edit. A journalist appearing behind a microphone and asking questions for television is under a lot more pressure - even if "live" does mean that short delay so that if someone says or does something disastrous you can cut to a commercial or have a "technical difficulty". 
The news readers I have seen over the years have varied. There is one I still miss. He was by far the best I have ever come across. He was trained by the BBC. His speech was excellent and he was, according to my hard of hearing friends, easy to lip read. I met him once after he had retired and he admitted that the job was stressful and that he used to dread news items coming in from certain places because of needing to be able to pronounce certain names.
The SBS has language specialists. It broadcasts in many different languages. There are news services in many languages - sixty eight of them at last count. 
Not all of those appear in the regular news service of course. That comes in English. 
Sometimes there is, for me, a curious little glitch. The story will include a news clip with someone speaking another language and there will be subtitles on the screen. If, as I usually am, I am looking down at the ironing or some knitting or something else that needs to be done I know I need to look up and read the subtitles. The problem is that the subtitles are only an approximation of what is being said - if that. I then find myself trying to listen and read and then, between the two, work out has actually been said. It's frustrating.
It also makes me realise again and again how complex the job of a good newsreader is.
The SBS has just said goodbye to a news reader of great skill. She was an Asian language specialist but she could seemingly get her tongue around a great many other languages as well.
I'll listen to the new people and wonder whether they will get their tongues around all the languages which go into telling us what is happening in the world. 

"Safety eyes"

for toys appeared as a question in my in box this morning. If you are not interested in the safety of small children and not interested in the making of toys for them then I suggest you go off and do something else.
E...., someone I have yet to meet, sent me a message. Her mother, whom I do know slightly, suggested she contact me. She has a small group of children trying to make things to put in the "junior" section of the handicraft area of the Show. Did I know whether buttons were considered to be "safe" as eyes on a  toy intended for small children.
The pattern the children are using is apparently nothing more than an oblong piece of knitting sewn up in some way with the addition of a  mouth...and the eyes. The pattern tells them to use buttons for eyes. 
Oh. Rightly, E... was inquiring about this. 
The answer is, "No, don't use buttons like that on a toy." It would particularly be the case if they are sewn on by children. They are unlikely to have the same skills as adults when sewing on buttons.
I have watched the judge of the adult section give each button on a garment a good tug. If it shifts then she will mark down the garment because buttons need to be firmly sewn in place. 
There is a soft toy class in the adult section.It is for a "cuddly toy". They are looking for the sort of toys which will be comforting for small chidren...the sort of thing you might go to bed with as tiny child. There the judge is looking for embroidered eyes, felted eyes or safety eyes. And,believe me, those safety eyes have to be very, very firmly attached. You do not use buttons. 
The Senior Cat once made some toys for sale at an "earth fair". He researched the topic thoroughly first. I sent him off to the first toy library in the state - something I had helped to set up - to talk to someone about their safety guidelines.
What the Senior Cat ended up making was made out of timber of course but the same sort of general rules applied. And there was and still is a general rule with respect to size.
Anything that fits into an old 35mm film canister is too small for a child who might still put things into their mouths. A film canister measures approximately 30mm across by 50mm long - 1.25 inches by 2 inches. If you can put something into that then it is too small. The same rule applies to making the "twiddle muffs" for dementia patients who might put something in their mouths. 
The answer to E...'s dilemma is to embroider the eyes or add felt eyes. The latter need to be sewn firmly in place too.  It is not good enough to glue them there. 
And don't use pipe cleaners, or glue on sparkling stars or stuff the toy with flammable filling or the sort of "beans" or beads used for bean bags.
Toys can still safe as well as fun without that.
 

"I hate walking the dog!"

I had suggested to someone who said he needed some time to himself "just to think" that he might walk the dog.
His wife put me up to this and I was not sure it was a good idea from the start. 
Walking the dog is something she does if she gets the chance in between taking the children to school and going to work and running the household. The children are still too young to safely walk the dog or she would require them to do it.
Yes, he goes to work too. They both have fairly stressful jobs in the legal profession. Neither of them get enough exercise but she gets more exercise than he does.
Walking the dog would be good for him.
There is someone else I can't say I know - but we acknowledge one another in passing - who does walk his dog. I see them coming down our street on quite a regular basis. The dog is a large "German Shepherd". That breed does not have the best of reputations but this one is a total softie. He moves slowly, investigates trees, sniffs at fences and generally seems to enjoy finding new smells and whatever else it is dogs do on a walk. His owner follows on slowly behind, waits patiently and then moves on.It's the sort of thing dog owners everywhere do every day. There is nothing at all unusual about this at all - except for one thing. The owner of this dog has only one leg. He has no prosthesis and uses crutches to get around.  
He still walks his dog.
The Senior Cat would love to have a dog and a cat. We have neither. We won't be having either. Our last cat lived to nearly 21 and, while we both still miss him, we know that we need to be a pet free household. The Senior Cat couldn't walk a dog. He couldn't train one now. He couldn't bath one either. He could very easily trip over an animal. We couldn't get an animal to the vet easily in an emergency because we don't have a car. I couldn't walk a dog and I don't have the time to train one. I suppose we could use  a mobile dog wash but....
Animals are a responsibility. Middle Cat, who has two cats, suggested once that I could have a cat at some point in the future. No. 
I like other people's animals. It isn't unusual for me to know a cat or a dog before I know the human they own. I've been told things like,
    "He never talks to anyone else."
Do the passing humans talk to him?
I must sound ridiculous sometimes.
And the idea of walking a dog? Well if I didn't ride my tricycle and I needed exercise and I needed thinking time then it seems to me that walking a dog might be a good way to get  both. 
Perhaps that is what is wrong with walking a dog. People don't want to exercise...and they don't want thinking time. 

"I need to know something"

"Yes?"
"I put something in the wrong place and...."
I am a steward for the handicraft section of the state's annual show. (For those of you in the US think "state fair".) It is my job to answer questions about all sorts of things.
Yesterday I had an email from someone I have never met. We have corresponded by email before. I am sure she is a nice person, certainly she always says "thank you", but yesterday she sounded flustered.
    "I put an entry in and I put it in the wrong place...."
Oh. She isn't the first person to have done that...and she won't be the last. 
Entries have to be in by a certain date in June. There is a further seven day period in which you can put in a late entry if you pay three times the original entry fee. There is also a very strict rule that this is an end to the matter. You cannot put any further entries in after that.
Now she hasn't finished the entry - and admitted that she might not finish it in time. What she wanted to do was put another entry into another class instead - and use her entry fee that way.
No. You can't do that. That would be like putting in a very, very late entry.  I told her she could, if she finished it, still put her original entry into the wrong class. It won't get judged but, if there is room, it would get displayed. It is up to the competitor to put his or her entries into the right class.
She accepted it with good grace and said, "It was my fault."
I hope we don't have any more of those this year. It is always disappointing. Last year there was a lovely piece of work, work which would have won a prize, put into the wrong class. I remember the judge standing there and looking carefully at it and then saying, "I wish I could give this a first." 
It always bothers me when something like this happens. I don't like people to be disappointed.
While I never put anything in to the wrong class and can no longer put anything in - well I could but I don't think it is appropriate to be standing there while someone is judging my work - I remember the nervous thrill of filling out the form, of paying the fee, of taking your work in, of waiting for the results. On the first occasion I didn't even need to do all those things because someone else told me of the shawl I had made,
    "I'll have that for the show please."'
There are a lot more entries now. We have more display space - although not nearly enough - and the new Convenors of the area have had some really innovative ideas that are making people take much more interest.
But, it all depends on people reading the schedule carefully - and putting things in the right class.
So the person who contacted me yesterday says she will try again next year.
I hope she does.

"Surprise" peas

were around in my childhood. 
I was reminded of them yesterday when someone I know mentioned she was researching something to do with "survivalist preparations."
I do not know much about such preparations but I do know something about the peas....and other dried oddities.
In my kittenhood my parents were appointed to a two teacher school in a very remote location. It was not quite "the outback" but it was on the edge of it.
The little "town" was bigger than some. It had seventeen houses. It also had a "general store". There was a counter in the general store which was "the post office" and a petrol pump. There was also a branch of the state's bank, a police station, a pub, and a community hall.  Slightly away from all this was the two teacher school and the railway siding. This hamlet - it wasn't really much more - had these things because this was where you left from to go to the "stations" to the north-west. It was a departure point for the vast sheep stations and the biggest salt lakes.
Food was an issue in that community. When we arrived one of the local farmers came to see Mum. He had some sort of contract to supply meat to everyone in the town. He would, he told her, supply a hind quarter of mutton one week and a fore quarter of mutton the next. That was it. There was no choice. You had that or nothing. Mum took it of course.
But what do about vegetables. It was the only place we ever lived in that the Senior Cat did not have a vegetable garden. The earth was the dry ochre dusty earth of the desert. The water came from a reservoir more than two hundred kilometres away. It was salty and, in summer, often too hot to put your hands in to wash them. Rainwater was scarce and used for drinking.
The general store held a solution of sorts. You could buy potatoes and pumpkin there. If you were very lucky you might be able to buy a few carrots. (Word would go around about the carrots. All the children would line up outside waiting to see if their mothers had managed to buy enough carrots to allow them to give at least a piece of carrot to each child. We treated carrots the same way some children now treat sweets.)
There was also something quite new to the general store. I don't know how long they had been around before then but I can remember the store owner telling the women of the township about the new item he was bringing in. Peas! 
We were going to have peas? Yes! 
The peas came in little packets. They were dried in some way and you had to reconstitute them. There were beans as well but Mum didn't bother with those for some reason. She did buy the peas. She also bought packets of dehydrated mixed vegetables. 
Night after night after night we sat down to much the same meal - mutton stew with potato, pumpkin and peas. 
About once a month we would head off to a much larger town on the coast. Mum would go to the tiny green grocer there.  She would buy carrots and beans and apples. If they had any she might buy us a banana each. That was about it. We would go back to the potatoes, the pumpkin - and those strange "surprise" peas. 
I suppose they were healthy enough. We kittens didn't get scurvy anyway.
The soup mixes you can now get and mix up in a cup always remind me of those peas. Some flavours actually have peas in them. I looked at one the other day. 
The peas were an unlikely shade of bright green. Were the "surprise" peas that shade too?