This week on Ye Gods, People Are Stupid...

I literally just saw about the Tai Po fire in Hong Kong and there are comments on a certain news outlet's Facebook post that have me rushing to Blog my OPINIONS.

Comment #1: And yet none pancaked on itself *thinking emoji*

Wow, really? At this time 44 people have been confirmed to have died and over two hundred are missing and you're making it about debunked 9/11 conspiracy theories?! 

Various commenters thereafter have brains in their possession:

• did a jet crash into them going 600 mph? - cos force of impact has a consequence separate to the fires
• and not 3ton [sic*] of aviation fuel - * each plane carried an estimated 60-74 tons, not three; burning aviation fuel is fundamentally different to burning the contents of apartments

The twin towers collapsed not because of fire per se but because of impact damage and a frankly unimaginable quantity of fuel being introduced to the building.
The building collapses were shocking because they were, for most, entirely unexpected. The World Trade Centre had been designed to withstand an aircraft impact (expecting situations such as a smaller plane, flying slower in bad weather rather than a fully fuelled large plane flown with intent), it had been designed to withstand fire (again with office contents burning rather than a couple of petrol tankers' worth of intensely combustible fuel that reaches temperatures far higher than could reasonably have been foreseen).
It's too early to speculate on the cause(s) of the Tai Po fire but initial blame is falling on soon-to-be-banned bamboo scaffolding and plastic mesh surrounding the site; fires on construction and renovation sites are sadly common - usually eventually traced to human error or electrical faults. Mostly these buildings are burning as any fire would, at the temperatures which would be expected. That alone makes them of no comparison to the WTC without considering construction materials, floor plans, even the weather.

Comment #2: For everyone out there memeing [sic] about 9/11 it was a controlled demolition

Ah yes, all those firefighters died going in to rig an occupied building with explosives and then detonated before they cleared the site? Or maybe this numpty is saying the building had been rigged to blow and the powers-that-be filled it with first responders before hitting the button? If you're gonna come up with wild conspiracy theories at least try to make them make some kind of sense.
There was nothing 'controlled' about 9/11. It was pure carnage. I'm guessing that particular idiot wasn't even alive in 2001 and their entire knowledge is gleaned from a couple of Gen Z react videos to a timeline video on YouTube!

Comment #3: When did they free fall into their own foot print?

Back to the pancaking mentioned in comment one... trees fall over, people fall over, buildings fall DOWN. The Leaning Tower of Pisa is an example of subsidence, not collapse. If you're ever unfortunate enough to see a house burn down you may see the roof cave in, it doesn't shear off and fall to the side. A brick wall may collapse in any direction but it has an entirely different structure to the World Trade Centre, to most if not all high rises. Even a brick built structure over a certain height will fundamentally pancake as it collapses because there is no sideways momentum to be had. It is going to fall into its own footprint - it literally cannot go anywhere else.
Probably it's just a poor choice of words to say what #1 did and I present the same response: different fuel, different conditions. Maybe they will collapse eventually, maybe they won't. There are these things called "variables" which is why there are different outcomes for similar events. Kinda like how the Titanic sank when other ships have survived hitting icebergs. Sometimes we can't ever explain quite how an outcome was reached - we call it 'luck' (be it good or bad), 'fate', etc. In some ways those in the World Trade Centre on September 11th 2001 were a variety of lucky... if the buildings had collapsed sooner more would have died - the vast majority of those below the impact level were able to evacuate; if the buildings had fallen later it would only have prolonged the sufferings of those above the impact level and doomed to die.

Honestly, I'm flabbergasted anyone's daft enough to imagine a building on fire cannot collapse, as much as I am confounded that anyone's daft enough to imagine a building on fire MUST collapse within a specified timeframe.

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And while I'm of a ranting mood here's my take (AKA post to Facebook) on this science story from yesterday claiming people aren't adults until the age of THIRTY TWO (link: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cgl6klez226o?fbclid=IwY2xjawOUbaVleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEediEhRKwkk70_i7AzBoAWlkOa81DxchJiY3ehlKNsCk27kOCdlNKHWoy1OCM_aem_GtcdZpU1btHieYtYgXUS9w):

Sorry (not sorry) but what a load of old hooey.

For one: quit infantilising actual adults*. For another: do they ever consider that it's not 'age' per se that changes the brain so much as accumulated life experiences?! Most of us can pick out moments in time which changed our thinking forever.

This study tells us 'adolescence' continues until an age close to the average for first time parenthood (29.6 for mothers, 33.8 for fathers) - and not all that long after people leave home (25 to 28) - which seems more than a coincidence to me. People tend to 'become more adult' when circumstances MAKE THEM GROW UP. I'd like to see this study repeated in a society that has a younger average parenting age and is less coddling of young adults...

Note that the childhood phase ends around the same time they're really starting to notice the realities of the world, possibly every bit as significant as the hormonal changes. Nothing to change brain chemistry like the painful realisation that the supposedly responsible adults are largely idiots and no one actually has a clue what they're doing!

Also, it's fairly well established that brains deteriorate faster when they get used less. Getting the hang of adulting, settling into a work life, heading towards retirement... all things that require less learning and adapting to new process than earlier in life. And sure, age comes into it, but it's also just a common thing that we kind of get the hang of life in our middle years. I'd wager that people who continue learning, switch careers, and face new challenges later in life would generally (excl illnesses, brain injuries, inherited predispositions to dementia, and the like) exhibit different patterns of development.

* If your brain isn't fully developed until 32, and we considered that a protracted teenagerhood, what would it do to society? It'd gobble up a woman's most fertile years for a start. Under 32s couldn't be expected to work responsible jobs or serve in the military. Maybe we'd be all "they doesn't deserve jail, they're only 29, their brain isn't fully developed yet". Raise the driving age to 31 lol. Perhaps under 32s shouldn't be allowed to vote or serve on juries either?! It'd be absolute insanity.

There are already enough people who can't respect that under 25s can be autonomous, responsible, fully engaged members of society. Hell, there are those who treat 16 and 17 year olds like overgrown toddlers! Ageism in all its guises is rubbish.

At 32 my kids were 14/15 and 11/12. Some people are GRANDPARENTS at that age, others are lawyers, doctors, teachers. But scientists have decided they're 'immature' because they assume that brain development happens regardless of how the brain is being used. Just as traditional thinking doesn't assume that to become an adult at an arbitrary age (say 18) is natural development, but a state which needs to be taught or self-learned, brains IMHO move into different phases because of what is taught or learned leading up to that point. If brains show a certain set of changes by age 32 then there's a reasonable argument that it's cause and effect, not from time but experience. It stands to reason that experience triggers change more than mere existence. And if that is the case then people who are coddled and enabled will not mature and those who have to step up and become adults earlier in life will reach those stages faster. To my way of thinking CONTEXT IS KEY but these scientists have only looked at dates of birth and brain scans without taking into account ANY variables, not even gender or age at menopause!

UGH. Why are humans so bloody THICK?!

Notes from my 2025 Diary - DAD (aka Pogsy)

Edited, mostly for location identifiers... although I really do call the local shop 'not-Athwal'. Additional comments in red.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This is my notes leading up to, and describing, the death of my father. It's also quite sweary.

It was going through my diary re: mum that made me realise there were warning signs before I had realised. I'm really glad I decided to put all this in one timeline because, once again, it's not exactly how I remember it going.

1 Jan - Dad's not well.

2 Jan - Dad said "I'm sorry about having a go at you about money yesterday" and then proceeded to have a go at me about money today. 

11 Jan - Dad went off at me for saying 'Kia ora' AGAIN. This time with a full-on rant of how I shouldn't speak foreign languages in, and I quote, HIS COUNTRY. Racist old bastard.

I have been trying out 'Kia ora' because mum has traumatised me with the word 'hello'.

12 Jan - When I got back home dad was a dickhead about keeping the vegan and non vegan stuff from cross contamination.

My dad could be such a jerk. I've been vegan since 2014 following a realisation in 2012 that I'm probably lactose intolerant (GP refused to test). This isn't new; it's both a protected ethical stance and vital to my health. In hindsight I wonder how much of this was his usual bloody-minded argumentative streak and how much may have been missed warning signs that something was going seriously wrong.

15 Jan - Mum agreed to go out AGAIN much to dad's horror. Poor old fart. He's really feeling the cold this winter...

17 Jan - Dad had some gastric trouble and was also accepting he needs more exercise but will NOT go [place name redacted] and will NOT explain why.

18 Jan - ...walked Pogsy round the block. He tried walking fast to BRING DOWN HIS BLOOD PRESSURE. I worry about that idiot.

20 Jan - Took mum for a loop up to the doctor's surgery (her last trip out). Dad had a hissy fit that the way back (via park) was *so much* further. Got home and showed him on Google Maps - way there 0.8 miles, way back 1.1 miles. Total of 3.06km which is SHORTER than our (usual) meadow loop (which he walks easily)

22 Jan - Rang dad to help get [mum] up as per usual and he asked me to come round. Uh oh. He's not well. Breathless. Couldn't lift her. More than a bit worried about the state of him.
He accepted being here all day with no complaints.

This is so important to me. This is the real indicator that there was trouble looming. He was breathless BEFORE the 'flu, and accepting being here so I can watch over him shows something's up. He did not take kindly to being 'babysat'. He lived right next door but leaving mum to go check on him was increasingly problematic.

27 Jan - Dad called me out into the garden cos the sky was all pink... at sunset!

Sure, he's 82 but he's not doolally. I really should've seen this confusion as more alarming than funny.

31 Jan - contracted the 'flu which I later passed to dad. Until the time of writing (28 Jul) I had believed that giving him that lurgy is what ultimately killed him.

7 Feb - He sat up to take some paracetamol, yelled my name three times and yeeted himself into a weird faceplant situation. Bloody hell.

9 Feb - Dad continues unwell. Erin been checking in on him.

10 Feb - Dad still abed also.

14 Feb - Mum died. Dad came round for a bit to see her.

15 Feb - Went to see Pogsy. He hasn't slept.

22 Feb - Today I walked dad up to the bottle bank & back. This is because (a) he is still feeling very poorly (he had to stop multiple times inc. sitting on both benches) and (b) the Donkee (an oversized Sholley Trolley - that's literally what it's called) was getting worryingly full.

24 Feb - I don't like dad's colour.

I *think* this was when I asked dad if he was having a heart attack. This is why he booked the doctor's appointment (18 Mar). This is where I thought it began. Ten days after mum.

25 Feb - accompanied him to a routine hospital appointment.

I had been unavailable to escort him previously because I was looking after mum, but he also would never have asked if he felt up to going alone.

26 Feb - Walked dad up to the [bottle bank] again. He's not just sickly, he's now got anxiety / panic attacks because he's feeling weak and vulnerable.

This 'anxiety' may well also be a symptom of what was underlying...

27 Feb - Walked the Pogsy

2 Mar - Dad's decided to forego his walk and isn't coming back out.

6 Mar - Dad's obviously feeling better - went around to check on him and he picked TWO (2) separate arguments so I left the grumpy old sod to his own devices for the rest of the day - some peace and quiet at last!

17 Mar - Dad wants me to go with him to the doctors tomorrow.

18 Mar - walked dad home (from the doctors) because he needed to test it out - he has to go back for an ECG tomorrow morning before his bus pass kicks in. He managed it, but not well.

Typical Pogsy. Use the bus pass or walk, there is no 'buy a ticket' option. Can't possibly spend money!

19 Mar - Escorted dad up to the doctors and he had the ECG - he's being referred to the hospital for a proper one.
Yep, we're into some scary territory. He has atrial arrhythmia.

There was also a lot of drama re: prescriptions this day as they raced to get him on a whole bunch of medications. This was properly out of nowhere so he wasn't on any of them already. He had other health issues but nothing heart-related.

20 Mar - Dad chasing up doctors, two pharmacists, and 111 because his new meds are contraindicated! He has Reynaud's, low BP, dizziness, etc. which all come under the "do not take if" heading.

21 Mar - The doctor has told dad to take the meds - low blood pressure and Reynaud's be damned!

This still seems bonkers to me. Heart medications seem to presume hypertension. You shouldn't have to trade off one medical condition to treat another.

24 Mar - Dad's got a semi-urgent appointment at [the hospital for a pre-existing situation] tomorrow.

25 Mar - So we went to the [hospital] & dad got checked. He's okay but they're having him back for tests first thing on Thursday so there's obviously some concern.

Partly mild symptoms, partly the new cardiac complication.

27 Mar - Hospital with Pogsy again.

31 Mar - Dad had wanted to come to town with me the following day but... Don't think it's going to happen though. I went to fetch him for dinner and he couldn't make it across his damn patio! Poor old man was crying - I've never seen him cry before. Not when my mum died, not when HIS mum died, not even when Guinny died (family cat, 1990).
THIS IS BAD.

1 Apr - Dad did go to town; I left him at the bus stop, hared up there and met him off the bus!

Then we walked home. Dad was very slow & puffing, had to stop a few times but he made it.
Also, he used a walking pole in public! So proud of him.

Like many men he was initially resistant to using a stick, frame, or wheelchair - especially in public. Later on I'd have to bully him a bit - if he wanted to stay at home he'd have to play it safe to avoid falls.

2 Apr - Dad has been Googling pneumonia [...] is it possible the heart issue is all (or mostly) down to a chest infection?!

5 Apr - Dad said he was 'fine' and 'can you take me to A&E tomorrow?' in the same sentence.

6 Apr - So, my guess of pneumonia was wrong. *DAD IS IN HEART FAILURE*
50 days since mum. Bloody hell.
The ER doctor was perfectly nice but didn't sugar-coat it - my dad has TMB - too many birthdays.
His pulse is erratic and fluctuating 112-131BPM. For a 60-79 yr old (I couldn't find 82) 86-95 is 'poor'.
His oxygen levels are great but he's struggling to breathe because (a) his heart is running a marathon (b) fluid is building up around his lungs.
He's been admitted to AMU (where mum was first week in [the hospital]) put on diuretics and a fluid restriction.

This was honestly pretty awful, remembering mum getting wheeled into that same ward. Then there was getting Erin aside (who'd stayed in the A&E waiting room until admission) so I could break the news to her away from Pogsy.

Hopefully we won't need it but I got him to tell me [his EPoA] still existed and where he thought it was (it wasn't but we found it).

Dad has asked if he can move in or if I will go next door [his house] cos he's scared they won't discharge him to live alone.
Of course.
Have plotted out a selection of plans depending on where we find ourselves.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 

7 Apr - did a load of shopping so dad has a dedicated hospital bag given that admissions are likely. Dad was discharged at 7pm. THIS WAS HIS *ONLY* NIGHT IN HOSPITAL EVER.

8 Apr - Dad had a shower at mine - didn't go well.
I am unlikely to be going back to work. FML.
Still going ahead with the playroom but arranging it so he can move in for next winter - figuring out how the library can be a TV room for him as easier to keep warm.

9 Apr - dad's first appointment at VACU - issued with mini ECG gizmo and BP monitor. Dad had a new will written; in part due to illness but mostly because of stuff that came to light dealing with mum's affairs.

Today I did dad's whiteboard cos he's struggling to keep track of his meds.

Everyone has LOVED the whiteboard - doctors, nurses, paramedics... the coroner's people. Not only a great way to keep track of things but absolutely brilliant when you're struggling to remember basic info cos you're sick or in shock. But starting dad's so soon after erasing mum's was quite challenging.

13 Apr - Had a really weird dream that was more like a "visitation"... only it was my dad. Definitely weird as he's still alive!

I remember this... it's like I was aware I was sleeping and I felt him come in and scoop me up like I was a little kid...

14 Apr - Dad's oh-so-urgent appt was a BP check and a blood test because of the new meds. Absolute pisstake and so much stress - could've done it at tomorrow's appointment which is now cancelled.

They'd tried to call him in on a Sunday when there are no buses to the hospital and taxis cost more.

15 Apr - back to the hospital for ECG and Holter fitting. This was when the 'original' GP referral for an ECG was supposed to be. Things went sideways A LOT so that didn't happen.

16 Apr -  Why my dad can't stay quiet for maybe 20 seconds so I can hear the ping that the ECG email has sent I have no idea. Dropped the Holter off.

23 Apr - Got dad's will witnessed in the evening.

24 Apr - Dad got his echo for all his heart rate is still way too fast (116/117 regardless of medications through the whole ordeal). They told us his heart ejection factor [sic] is 10-15% (should be 50%+) a normal ejection fraction is actually 55-70% and according to dad's records his was 17%. He's been told he's at the more severe end of the heart failure spectrum but there's still things they can try, including yet more drugs (cardioversion and ablation mentioned)

26 Apr - Around 4pm dad called. I had Erni come as I had heebie-jeebies. A good job too! He was having chest pain and while I was assessing him VACU called and they told me to call and ambulance - so I did!
Possibly angina or reflux but it was at least a false alarm. Got in at a few minutes to midnight.

Honestly, this much stress and exertion for someone in heart failure can't be good?

30 Apr -  Different doctor (at VACU). Had to go over EVERYTHING again. Apparently dad's records say he had a BPM in the seventies last week... bullcrap! It dipped briefly into the 90s at A&E on Saturday but we've never got anywhere close to that!
He was quite grim about how little there is they can offer for now and is asking Cardiology to see him sooner than June.

I killed my dad, didn't I? I got the fucking 'flu, gave it to him, and now he's going to die cos he's old and the meds aren't working. Shit.

And now I can see - via my own observations - that he was actually unwell before he got my 'flu. Probably that exacerbated it but it's not my fault.

1 May - Got home to discover dad very not well & freaked out cos I wasn't home (he knew I was going to [town]). I have apologised for messing him up and he says it's not my fault but it feels like it is. Dad actually staggered round later. He's worried by me being upset - OF COURSE I'M BLOODY UPSET! - and he wanted to check up on me.

On this day dad got taken off one of his regular meds due to the heart failure... and the removal of that drug from his regimen let in part to his death.

3 May - Cleared out the suntrap.

Dad loved working in his garden but I am so happy he finally got to just sit out there and enjoy it... The suntrap was filled with old buckets, watering cans, and plant pots as well as being practically inaccessible with weeds.

Dad's worst home ECG to date - so many blips! Also, all BPs under 90, all BPMs around 118.

5 May - Got excited about dad's BPM - 73 & 60! Of course, it was a fucking glitch -117 & 120. It was nice to experience the joy of how it'd be for the meds to finally work but I guess that means it'll never happen.
Honestly, I've been through a lot of shit, these past 7 years especially, but today was HORRIFIC.

7 May - Visit to VACU. He used the wheelchair for the first time.

9 May - Discharged from VACU as cardiology are picking him up from Monday

11 May - Dad's really not well [...] did him an ECG this morning with a BPM of 120 and a really irregular graph (skipping every third beat).

12 May - The long awaited Cardiac appointment was a bust. They have 'tweaked' his meds back to a dosage he's been on before and told him to come back in FOUR WEEKS! No mention of the cardioversion or anything else. We reckon they've given up. He's being referred to some community cardiac care team. BP machine & ECG gizmo returned to VACU.
Dad needed the wheelchair almost the whole time today.

I was so angry. VACU had been checking in with us almost every day and seeing him at least twice each week and then it's all 'see you in a month'?! The drugs aren't going to miraculously start working - he needed a cardioversion scheduled.

13 May - Dad had a dizzy spell. Face planted the bed. Called me to help him up. Then I taught him (willing to learn) to use the walking frame.
The 4 wk appt came through - with a cardiac NURSE. They've definitely given up.

17 May - Got a message from B to go check on dad because he had a "question". Apparently he didn't have a question - B had told him to get me to stay over! So here I am, doing as B tells me - back on my sofa in the attic [at dad's].

20 May - I am so glad B came to see dad - it's been years but he misses her dreadfully.

21 May - Dad had a really bad day. Late afternoon he came over all dizzy and loopy and when I was trying to reassure him / get him vertical he was flailing almost seizure-like.
Early evening he had a similar thing only in bed and couldn't get up.
It's all quite frightening.

23 May - It started at 0530 when dad rang his bell. He'd got stuck on his back so I righted him.
At 0830 it happened again and OMG he was deathly pale - his face matched his HAIR!

Not doing great. It's hard seeing dad deteriorate so rapidly.

1 June - Got dad moved in. Lots of going back and forth for me. He only did the single one-way trip but he's really done-in from it.

I had redecorated the room mum had been using. New carpet and everything. By this point he really needed the medical bed (which was actually our property, along with the wheelchair, walking frame and almost all of mum's care supplies. The few loaner items had long since been returned.)

4 June - Dad sat out for a bit but there was a helicopter miles away and the noise totally did him in.

8 June - Dad wanted to go round to his house and clear out his fridge so we did that... and in it I found a Glyceryl Trinitrate spray prescribed to my dad NINE YEARS AGO. I *knew* there was a mention of angina years ago but [when I brought it up] dad yelled at me and called me a liar.

9 June - Dad had a bad day to start with. Went to bed mid morning then didn't get up for lunch. Instead he wanted to face the other way... and missed! Could only get out of that position by doing a Mork-from-Ork impression. Then he 'walked' round the bed and got in from the other side.
He got up mid afternoon, had his lunch (slowly) and snoozed for a while... Then he kind of snapped out of it and was fine for the afternoon - went out and sat in the suntrap!

10 June - Got woken up mid-dream by dad - rushed in and he wasn't there! Instead he was in the kitchen, on his knees, head in the fridge and rather stuck. Got him up eventually, he had his breakfast, a puff, and went back to bed to recover!
Got the call from the community cardiac team. Bloody hopeless. All the same questions, making stupid statements like the drugs are working, and then I had to go full Karen to get him a home visit WHICH IS WHAT WE WERE WAITING ON THIS CALL FOR.
Got a call from [GP surgery] - dad's DNR is READY FOR COLLECTION. What the actual fuck?! They didn't even need to see him?? Talk to HIM??

Again, so angry. First at the community cardiac care team who didn't even want to see him despite being desperately ill. Second at the GP surgery for issuing a DNR without discussing it with HIM. I didn't even have power of attorney for him - I thought the questions I'd answered were a precursor to them coming out to assess his situation!

11 June - Dad had a total bitch fit because he wouldn't answer whether he wanted his lunch?! and because he asked a stupid question?! Anyway, he's stropped off back to his house.
Honestly, I think he's had some kind of 'event' today but I've had enough of his shit over the years.
Brought dad back c. 10:30pm. He's not very well.

12 June - Dad continues pretty poorly - hallucinations may be ominous.

13 June - Dad's still spinning. I rather think he's shutting down. It's awful because he seems more aware of it [than mum did].
Dad went out in the garden three times today. He's really struggling but at least he's enjoying that.

15 June - FATHER'S DAY. Dad had post including an NHS letter saying he's in heart failure stage 3 which is just bollocks. It's stage 4 for sure.

We're not medically trained but my daughters and I each researched this and the criteria are plainly stated. We even have a later letter - dated about 10 days before he died - stating he was stage 2 to stage 3. We laughed at that. Ludicrous.

18 June - Dad's community cardiac nurse appt was... weird. She couldn't even work her won ECG machine! BP was 90 over something. BPM 117 like always. This seemed to bother her for some reason.
The nurse called insisting we went to A&E. She told me she'd spoken to a cardiologist and they wanted to see him.
THIS WAS A LIE.
She called out an ambulance. The paramedics also talked us into going. At A&E [the male paramedic] (who was several sandwiches short of a picnic) said he'd spoken to someone from cardiology at admission.
THIS WAS ALSO A LIE.
A&E had no idea why we were there as there were no new symptoms, no worsening, no changes at all. There was also no contact with cardiology but they wanted to admit him [...] dad did a big "fuck that" and discharged himself against advice.
Despite being told he couldn't walk [...] into A&E we walked out of A&E and caught the [bus] home.
Total bloody pisstake IMHO. Never been impressed with NHS but this total lack of joined-up thinking is beyond ridiculous.

Again: angry. Not only incredibly dishonest but entirely too much stress to put him through for no damn reason.

20 June - AMAZING NEWS!! Dad has *finally* been booked in for his cardioversion on 8 July (2 1/2 weeks). No guarantees of course but they're finally gonna *try* and he may feel a lot better for it.

I hadn't held out much hope for this appointment but given dad's attendance at A&E two days earlier the nurse had got straight on to a cardiologist about a referral on seeing his notes! I was beyond grateful. 
That evening I was at a gig in Wales, on quite the high thinking he might finally get 'better' and I'd have my dad around for a bit longer. Even if *only* the six to twelve months life expectancy that stage 4 has. As it was - diagnosis of heart failure to death was slightly shy of THREE months.

23 June - Planted mum's [memorial] magnolia today. Had a bit of a job getting it in [...] dad, the blithering idiot, came out and did some digging. Had a bit of a freak out...

Later this day I had a failed bonfire in dad's garden - I set fire to the actual garden! Erin and I had a mad time trying to put it out!

Dad took the news fairly well - the damage was pretty limited, thank the gods.

24 June - Rough night with dad. Chest pain, couldn't get up, couldn't get comfortable. I really hope the cardioversion helps but I can't help worrying it'll happen again and he'll have to suffer this all over (and over?)

25 June - Dad having a really rough day.
Didn't get out of bed until about 11am. Had a couple of lie-downs. Went back to bed by 4pm - breathing difficulties, coughing up froth, couldn't get comfy. 
Got up for an hour or so about 7pm, then crawled back in his pit.
Only ate his bao meal today.
Asked me to message B not to call / text him cos he's feeling so rough.

Erin told me she has the heebie-jeebies about the 8th of July. Can't shake the feeling he'll die soon. Somewhere around here I suggested the 4th of July... I didn't write it down but Erin will vouch for me.

28 June - Dad had an okay day yesterday... up until the evening where he suddenly went all squiffy, started shaking like a leaf. Had to hold him for a good while.
Today has been TERRIBLE. He's only been out of bed to go to the loo; nausea, retching, vomiting. Not fun.

29 June - Dad a little more vertical today.

30 June - I was incredibly sick overnight with what I took to be heat exhaustion (which I also presumed explained dad's unwellness)

I can hear dad up and down to the loo like a yo-yo and I'm well aware I can't look after him when I'm like this. I feel like death.
He's really very not well but still adamant he doesn't want to go to hospital.

1 July - Dad had another terrible night. About 5am I got Erin up for a second opinion. We decided to call an ambulance (A).
They also thought it was a raging UTI (the penny only dropped for me at 5am) but in other news:
His BPM was 62
His BP was 140-something over 60-something
I.E. NORMAL. Fucking hell!!
Keeping Erni home today (B) so she can get the 'script (the paramedics liaised with the GP for a prescription for antibiotics) and be on duty so I can have a rest.
Last night 45 mins sleep
Night before 5 hours, almost continuous.
One before that, 4 hours, in 3 bits.
Less than 10 hours sleep in 72. Feeling quite shit on top of still being sickly.
Erin got the meds.
Dad continues exceedingly rough.
In the evening he lost the plot, did some weird counting (C), and asked if we "won".
He failed a stroke test but mostly due to a lack of cooperation. He was a good bit more himself after being unceremoniously hosed off in a cold shower (D).

(A) As much as he didn't want to run the risk of another admission we were only a week from his cardioversion appointment - simply couldn't risk him being too sick to have it after all this. The UTI was likely a result of the medicine he was taken off back on 1 May.
In hindsight I should have realised that those 'normal' readings after months of really bad ones was ominous AF.
(B) I wouldn't normally ask Erin to stay home to help like that; she had very few days off to help with mum although I'd had dad to help with her most of the time. I've been sick whilst caring before - flu, colds, covid twice, a bad reaction to having a tooth extracted, once a bad reaction to a pizza (99.9% sure I didn't get the vegan one I'd ordered) - but I am seven years run down and I simply couldn't cope.
Dad was almost certainly no heavier than mum (she was a chonk to the end) but he was taller so I couldn't lift him so well - I'm 5' 8", mum had shrunk a bit from her original 5' 6", and dad was still about 5' 11".
(C) I swear my mum did something VERY similar during one of her 'turns' (possibly further strokes) so it was very disconcerting.
(D) This wasn't cruelty: my thermometer is faulty, he was running a wicked fever.

2 July - Another bad night - two huge shaking fits (1st at least 1 1/2 hours, 2nd more like an hour) and several rounds of vomiting. Also gastrointestinal distress. Getting his meds down = huge challenge.

Erin off work again to help. This is BAD.

3 July - It's 4:30am and I've barely had an hour's sleep.
There's been visits to the loo... There's been vomiting / spitting... There's been uncomfortable and shivering. There's been the 'emergency' of "is my stomach bloated?" Like dude, I have no idea. You're sick, you're on a lot of meds, you're not eating (less than can of fruit salad yesterday), your muscle tone & posture have gone all squiffy.
Anyway, at 4:30 there was [an event] that required Erni to come help with a shower.
Poor kid but the nights are the WORST.

Erin managed to get to work today but in consequence dad had to suffer the indignities of the commode because I couldn't get him to the bathroom safely alone.
We did our first and, as it happens, ONLY bed bath that night.

4 July - Another badly disturbed night. Erin and I were up to dad about 4:30am again. He called for help but once on the commode was all of a flop - staring ahead and totally unresponsive. He was so much like mum just before she died... so I naively thought we might be in our final couple of weeks.
Afterwards Erin and I had a bit of a heart-to-heart. I finally acknowledged the cardioversion wouldn't be happening. I could also see that I wasn't going to be able to look after him solo. We decided that I would look after him as bed-bound today, see what the weekend brought and make a decision from there.
Then he called us back.
Another commode flop / stare / unresponsive episode. It was about 5:30am when we all got back to bed. Dad must've died right after...

Independence Day... apt for becoming an orphan.
Also easy to remember like mum and Valentine's Day.
I found mum at 7:40pm; Erin looked in on dad at 7:40am... and came to tell me he didn't seem to be breathing. I went and checked. Unlike mum he was very definitely gone.
20 weeks apart.

It was all incredibly fast in comparison to what mum endured. Erin has stated more than once that dad went through mum's seven years of decline in the last week alone... and she's right.

Notes from my 2025 diary - MUM

Edited, mostly for location identifiers... although I really do call the local shop 'not-Athwal'. Additional comments in red.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This is my notes leading up to, and describing, the death of my mother.

1 Jan - And so, most implausibly, my mother has made it into another year!

Having suffered a severe, dual hemisphere stroke in April 2018 mum had further illnesses and events that, by the start of our reminiscences here, had left her almost entirely incapacitated.

2 Jan - Mum has been mostly asleep today. No obvious signs of trouble... but that only suggests this is a 'proper' decline rather than an illness.

3 Jan - Mum continueth sleepily.

4 Jan - Described a dream wherein mum got up (despite being fully immobile in reality) and went to a university lecture in a non-wheelchair accessible basement auditorium. I tried to follow her but got waylaid - then couldn't get in.
Honestly, it (the dream) was laden with symbolism - stopping short of hearing her old voice once more.
It was not prophetic (for today at least) but it has been somewhat of a 'rally'. She *should* have been wiped out by the full wash we gave her but after lunch SHE ASKED TO GO FOR A WALK [1]. Such a thing has never happened and for probably the last six months she's only been out of her room under extreme duress! But walk her we did.

6 Jan - Mum asked to go out AGAIN!! [2] I can hardly believe it. Dad and I managed to get her out and in by ourselves just fine. Unfortunately the river path was flooded so we did [...] just up CML along H, across thingummybob, down V and via the footpath.

7 Jan - Had already been up to town shopping when mum wanted a bacon butty (!) so I went back out for the fixings

Mum was helloing something awful tonight. When Erni came in to help her to bed she shouted: HELLLLOOOOO!! To which Erin responded: Buongiorno. Mum went: Hell...OH! and did a wide-eyed toddleresque startle. It was HILARIOUS!

My mum got caught in loops of saying 'hello' over and over. The word now stresses me out.

8 Jan - Mum's pretty 'off' again. Today she's eaten two fried egg sandwiches. No idea what's up.

My mum loved eggs. They did not love her back. Mum was allergic to raw / lightly cooked eggs (no flu or covid vaccines for her!) but at home I could be sure to cook them thoroughly... and any mistakes in that department I would be dealing with. Really unusual for her to want two sandwiches though, nice to see her with an appetite.

10 Jan - Went to not-Athwals because mum wanted egg sandwiches and cherry cakes - obliged on both.

Again, appetite is great but also her putting in requests was quite unusual.

11 Jan - Mum is back to doing fairly rubbish. She's not eating much, didn't drink a whole lot today, unhappy, muchas moaning & groaning & helloing.

14 Jan - Mum was pretty depressed / fearful last night so I camped in on her floor again.
Had a weird in-between sleep where I could *almost* hear her calling 'Heggie' in something akin to her old voice, yet sounding more like distant bells - whilst simultaneously hearing her snore.
Several times in the night the silence was startling.

This is particularly noteworthy looking back, as it was exactly a month before she passed.

Mum opted for ANOTHER walk today [3]. Now she's knackered but insisting on sitting up so I am watching Knives Out at her.

Mum disliked Knives Out. I think it was probably that she couldn't process Marta's accent, but also the plotline is quite complex. It says a lot that she tolerated me watching it.

15 Jan - Mum agreed to go out AGAIN [4] much to dad's horror. Poor old fart. He's really feeling the cold this winter but it's great mum's remembered the outside world exists.

16 Jan - Skipped mum's wash and got her up to Town! Yes, REALLY!! [5]

Mum had a coughing fit after her crumpets (really quite alarming) - she didn't lose her lunch but then she wanted more... and then more again!

This is noteworthy as (a) if mum had a coughing fit she'd usually declare she would never ever again eat / drink whatever happened to be there at the time, (b) where did that appetite come from?!

Went round to not-Athwals for her wishlist of sandwiches, nuts, biscuits AND CIDER!! What even?! It's 13:54 and she's sipping on a tropical Strongbow!

I asked her what she wanted, she asked what they had, I rattled off some random things, and she said 'yes'! Couldn't believe she actually drank the cider when it arrived.

Mum is sad and helloing this afternoon.

19 Jan - Got mum out for a walk [6 - her last with Neville]

20 Jan - Took mum for a loop up to the doctor's surgery. [7 - which is probably more times she left the house than in the ENTIRETY of 2024]

Mum had a weird incident tonight - telling me her baby was wrong.

I am her only child.

27 Jan - Mum was up past 1am watching Miss Marple.

28 Jan - I had to go to not-Athwals cos mum wanted Nutella.

5 Feb - Very off - no weight bearing - no gripping. Almost completely unresponsive. No eye-contact - no sounds, etc, etc. Mum hasn't eaten or drunk anything since midday yesterday. This doesn't worry me - not only is the woman part camel but she's entirely asleep and in no distress.

It's worth noting here that over a previous winter she had a 'rough patch' LASTING THREE MONTHS where she barely ate or drank anything... maybe 500ml a day and a handful of bites of food each week. When she finally perked up again we were in shock. Really changed my perception of what is survivable.

7 Feb - ...she ASKED FOR A DRINK which had me shooketh.

8 Feb - She may have decided to live a bit longer. Drank two pots of water while potted. Mum had a SANDWICH at lunchtime!

9 Feb - Mum continues unwell, uncooperative but sats steady. She hasn't eaten today. It's all pretty grim but I fear L may be right & my mother's an immortal!

This may sound callous but while she may have briefly enjoyed things - be it an episode of Vera or her 80th birthday celebration the previous October - mum's quality of life by this time was exceedingly poor. None of us feared her dying anymore.

10 Feb - No eats, no drinks, no change.

11 Feb - I was in with mum again last night. She kept telling me off for snoring.

Mum helloing something awful this afternoon. Then it got worse because it morphed into "Hallelujah" with an even greater frequency. FREAKY. AS. FUCK.

She was helloing at a rate of roughly every 30-40 seconds; the hallelujahs were every 20. It was JUST like in Doctor WHO - Miss Evangelista: "I can't think, I don't know, I-, I-, I-, ice cream, ice cream" (see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gO1rsPxHY48). It went from hello to hel to h- to hal- to hallelujah. That scene is so much harder to watch now.
Mum wasn't religious. She hadn't set foot in a church except for family baptisms, weddings, or funerals in decades.

12 Feb - Mum has continued helloing

Weirdly, my memory cuts off at the hallelujahs...

I didn't note it in my diary but she was particularly unresponsive during her evening wash. When I lifted her Erin noted her eyes were open and said 'Oh, hello!' but got no response. That was the last time her eyes were open.

13 Feb - Reckon mum's comatose. She didn't stir, even when we washed her tonight. Her BPM has hit a high of 102 and a low of 25. Neither of which presented differently. Dad & Neville have been warned. I opened N's Valentine card and read it to mum.

Similarly this didn't worry me; it was what we expected of a normal dying process. So long as we could keep her clean, warm, comfortable there was no cause for alarm.

14 Feb - Turned mum at about 0915 with limited success - and again at 1610 with even less. Breathing has become more erratic. Can't get a BPM/O2% reading. This was written at 1707.

We finished the wash at about 7pm. Erin sat with her for about 10 minutes, I went back in at 1940 (half an hour after she was last seen alive). The erratic breathing had stopped, I couldn't sense any breathing at all. Mum had an undetectable carotid pulse anyway - an idiosyncrasy that's quite awkward at this juncture. The pulse oximeter hadn't produced a reading in hours... I wasn't nearly as sure as I needed to be - we had to call out an ambulance to confirm she was gone.  
She was taken away a little before 1am on the 15th. She was warm for hours and could easily have passed for sleeping throughout.

My Father's Obituary

Owen Stanley Feltham was born on October 4th 1944 at 22 Coniston Drive, Tilehurst. The third of four sons of Margaret (nee Beckett, 1915-2003) and Frederick (1905-1965). 

He was named for the mountain range (itself named for Captain Owen Stanley, 1811-1850) in Papua New Guinea which, from October 14th to November 20th 1942 saw 900 men from the US 2nd Battalion, 126th Infantry Regiment, 32nd Division (Michigan / Wisconsin) cross 130 miles via the Kapa Kapa Trail. 

Parallel to the Kokoda Trail I did a Kokoda Virtual Challenge for his 80th birthday... his life might've been quite different if he'd been named 'Kokoda Feltham' but 'Kapa Kapa Feltham' is not so inspiring - overall I think my grandparents made a good call! My dad was proud of the associations with his name but contradictorily annoyed by the anything re: America in WWII.

Owen's school life was not great. He struggled academically, possibly suffering with difficulties in literacy failing to keep up with his intensely enquiring mind. A particularly cruel teacher knocked his confidence for decades to come and he did not start reading for pleasure until his fifties.

He left school with no formal qualifications as he passed to a trade school and trained as a bricklayer. An ambitious Slytherin he attended night-school in his twenties and qualified as an estimator, in which role he remained for the rest of his working life. 

At the time of the 2011 Census he was astonished to discover his vocational qualifications were considered equal to two-thirds of a university degree - putting him at the same level as my mother, a situation that for all his brains he simply couldn't wrap his head around.

In the early 70s he began a relationship with Janet Speller - who he met through family. They bought a house together in Roslyn Road, Woodley and a Chocolate-Point Siamese cat named Guinness ('Guinny' c. 1975-1990). He was the 'planned child', I was rather less so when I came along in March 1978. I loathed my birthname but was always called Heggie for reasons no one has ever been able to recall; I have been calling my dad 'Pogsy' since the early nineties for similarly long-forgotten reasons.

In 1981 we moved to Tilehurst and then in 1984 back to Woodley. This final house required a lot of work - and fortunately my dad's work in the building trade meant lots of leftover materials that would otherwise be sent to landfill. For this reason that final house, Sunnyside, has an eclectic selection of garden walls, raised beds, etc. made with many odds and ends my dad took a fancy to. His last construction projects were in 2024 - which he liked to blame on me - and he was still dreaming up more things to do.

My mother enjoyed travelling so my dad got to see a bit of the world, if somewhat out of his comfort zone. In earlier times he had enjoyed the odd walking holiday but was far more of a homebody by nature. 
Aside from many European destinations he visited North and South America (USA & Venezuela, respectively), Africa (Tunisia), and Asia (including four trips to India).

Between the mid eighties and their deaths in 2000 my dad helped care for my mum's parents. Despite being no more than housemates by this time, and never having considered her family as his family, he mucked in whenever necessary.

Owen met the love of his life, B, in 1998. She was a very good influence on him and made him a lot more bearable to be around. Sadly she couldn't commit to the relationship but they remained close to the end of his life.

I became a single teenage mum when my daughter Erin was born in January 1996; and my parents became grandparents again when I had her sister Kathleen three years later. My parents were less than thrilled but forged good relationships with my daughters and they enabled us to have holidays and put money aside for their university costs. Erin graduated from Winchester University in 2017, the same year I attained my degree from the Open University. Kathleen graduated from Swansea University in 2021 and is shortly to begin her teacher training. I hope we've made him proud.

L-R: Janet, Kathleen, Heggie, Erin, Owen - Heggie's graduation, 2017

I moved back to Woodley in the summer of 2017 (ahead of the move my dad made an appearance in this shed-building clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vm7sWXiq0o ) and on Monday 16th April 2018 my mum suffered a severe stroke, unusually affecting both hemispheres of the brain. Despite having separated in 2004, and having not been 'together' for many years before that, my dad was fundamental to her care for the final years of her life. He not only took care of essential bills so I was able to give up work and care for her until the end but lifted her so we could take her out for walks, sat with her for hours upon hours, even helping with personal care when she became so incapacitated I could no longer manage alone.

Owen with Janet, for her 80th birthday in October 2024

When my mum died, on Valentine's Day 2025 at the age of 80, my dad had not seen her in almost a week as he had caught my 'flu. My dad previously caught the 'flu in 2003 leading to several years of poor health as he battled post-viral fatigue so, at 82, we weren't too alarmed that it knocked him for six. Just ten days after mum passed he was looking particularly unwell however, and I said "I'm going to have to ask: are you having a heart attack?" He said 'no' but went to the GP to get checked out, just in case... He was diagnosed on the spot with Atrial Arrhythmia (BPM fluctuating 100-150 at rest) and was referred urgently to the hospital.

A week or two later everything went squiffy and we ended up in A&E where a doctor casually told him that he was suffering from TMB (Too Many Birthdays) and was in Heart Failure. In his defence, I think he assumed my dad must already know. It seems that it's relatively rare to just jump to that level of illness without years of prior symptoms yet in the first half of 2024 he'd had a whole battery of tests which had shown no red flags at all. Although he was clearly getting older he'd been fit and active - lifting mum, digging the garden, messing about up ladders...

Acute Care and the Virtual Acute Care Unit at the RBH tried all the combinations of medications to bring down his heart rate but it remained stubbornly at 117 BPM - like running, day and night, leaving him breathless and exhausted. At the same time he was suffering from low blood pressure making him constantly dizzy. A fit and active man he found his ill health very difficult to cope with. To the end he wanted to be out digging his garden. In fact, barely a week before he died he decided to 'help' plant mum's memorial magnolia tree!

The urgent referral to Cardiology initially led to nothing. We were never told the prognosis but we have enough smarts that we could figure out what they weren't saying; Doctor Google told us the rest. My dad put his affairs in greater order (he had always had things in good order but an issue with his will was spotted when we were sorting out my mother's estate) and I put my plans to get back to work on indefinite hold. 

We'd basically had a few weeks of relative normality after my mum's death before finding out we were going to lose him shortly too. What's really difficult is that before he went sideways he asked me how long he had; my mum's parents passed in quick succession (83 days) as did her grandparents (13 days). He even had me work out the dates he had to surpass - February 27th and May 8th. I even added the difference (70 days) again - 17th July... except I messed up the maths (so on-brand for me) and got June 27th.

When he got sick dad thought he'd go on Father's Day (15th of June), I plumped for Independence Day as it sounded apt for being orphaned, and Erin got the heebie-jeebies about the 8th of July. 

Despite Stage 4 heart failure having a life expectancy of 6-12 months somehow none of us imagined we'd get anywhere near that long... and they never actually admitted to it being that bad. Less than a fortnight before he died they'd said it was Stage 2 to Stage 3! It's a good thing we do Google or we'd have been even more caught off guard.

Eventually, and to our great relief, they got him booked in for a cardioversion - a procedure to essentially shock the heart into a regular rhythm, which may also improve cardiac function - scheduled for 8th of July.

Ahead of the procedure he came down with what we took to be heat exhaustion (which I was suffering with at the time) and he was struggling desperately in the heatwave. A few days later, exactly a week before the cardioversion, we realised he had a UTI - I called out an ambulance but they didn't take him in, opting instead to liaise with the GP and get him antibiotics. Bizarrely, and perhaps ominously, the paramedics took his BP & BPM which were reading as perfectly normal. Three days later he was gone. I had to call and cancel the appointment because, while the system gets updated immediately, appointments already scheduled aren't automatically cancelled.

From the first sign of trouble to the end was just 130 days. After mum's nearly seven years we're reeling from how fast it all happened.

Owen Stanley Feltham passed away around 6am on 4th of July 2025 at the age of 82.

He died peacefully at home, well... my home. He'd wanted to pass in his own house but he accepted being here as a compromise when it became unsafe for him to try to manage alone.

His cause of death was given as Urosepsis, with heart failure as a contributing factor.

He is remembered by partner B, daughter Heggie, granddaughters Erin and Kathleen; brothers Fred, Peter, Graham, and sister-in-law Elaine; a niece Kay and nephew Carl as well as their partners and children.

My dad enjoyed property shows such as Escape To The Country, true crime shows and gentle whodunits such as The Brokenwood Mysteries and Death Valley. His musical tastes were varied; he played Rod Stewart in the car, enjoyed the video for Good Charlotte's Girls & Boys, had a soft spot for Willie Nelson's version of Always On My Mind, and sang You Are My Sunshine. He loved his homegrown fruits and veggies and was surprisingly partial to strawberry milkshakes.

He had an extensive collection of hippos and hoarded pieces of wood, followed Reading FC, and in his last weeks finally got around to enjoying the suntrap he built maybe 30 years ago.

My Mother's Obituary

Janet Marion Keating was born on October 17th 1944 at 41 Mill Lane, Lower Early. The third and final child of Winifred (nee Weight, 1905-2000) and Gerald Keating (1909-2000). Born after her brother Alan and sister Margaret's bedtime, family legend has it that Margaret came down on the morning of her birthday (the 18th) to the news she had a baby sister - to which Margaret exclaimed indignantly "I don't want a sister, I want my birthday!" ...I gather she got over it eventually and, as the years passed, it became a running joke that Janet and Margaret would post each other birthday cards - remarkably often picking the same card for the other!

Four generations (Woodley, 1996):

L-R: Winifred Keating, Janet Speller, Heggie Speller, Erin Speller

Janet's school record was blighted by ill health, particularly at primary, but she was an intelligent girl who seemed to have kept up well. She was particularly adept with language - English, Latin, French and Music. Later she would often remark that she could wave her arms in many languages. It particularly offended her sensibilities that when, many years later, I attended the same secondary school she had gone to (The Holt School, Wokingham) the jumpers had the school's Latin motto embroidered incorrectly. Even at the end of her life she would shout at the TV is someone used bad grammar or said 'pee' instead of 'pence'. She could have gone on to do A levels but her parents were against it. She used to say if she could do a degree she would take Philosophy because it's so useless - I think that was why I was so drawn to making philosophy part of my degree path...

My mum had several varied jobs through her life - most notably at the Prudential (twice) which she worked hard to gain additional qualifications for. She was certainly a Ravenclaw - not hugely ambitious, but unafraid of hard work or learning new skills. When my parents bought a very primitive computer in the 80s (a Commodore +4) she even taught herself programming putting world flags to national anthems.

Janet married young but it did not work out - she retained the 'Mrs' and the name Speller for the remainder of her life, passing the name to me and my children, leading to no end of awkward questions. In 1998 she had the surreal experience of processing her ex-husband's life insurance claim.

In the early 70s she began a relationship with Owen F - who she met through her cousin Elaine. They bought a house together in Roslyn Road, Woodley and bought a Chocolate-Point Siamese cat named Guinness ('Guinny'). He was the 'planned child', I was rather less so when I came along in March 1978. I loathed my birthname but was always called Heggie for reasons no one has ever been able to recall; my mum even investigated for me the legalities of how to adopt the name officially (which I did in 1993).

Mum gave up work to raise me, because that is what you did in those days, but for a woman with such an active mind it was a strange and unusual torment. My mum read a great deal but was also skilled in DIY and homemaking skills such as rug-making and sewing curtains. In 1981 we moved to Tilehurst and in 1984 back to Woodley. This final house required a lot of work - my dad, who was lifelong in the building trade, would invariably get most of the credit but mum was out there mucking-in at all times. She was especially annoyed at anyone who assumed she just brought out tea and biscuits! In the mid '80s* her father had a stroke - between geographical proximity and the fact she was full time in the home - it fell to my mum to do a lot of care, increasing as her mother got frailer.

*I remember it as being six but that would make it immediately after we moved into

Colemansmoor Road... that doesn't seem right. So I feel like it must've been the year after... 

making it right after I got run over? So I'm settling for a less specific 'mid 80s'

My mum was very keen on travelling, far more so than my dad. Over the years we visited some amazing places: Bulgaria, Tunisia (full tour inc. the Colosseum at El Djem), America, India, Venezuela... Our last big trip - mum, myself, my two daughters - was a Nile cruise in Egypt for my 30th birthday. So glad my mum got to achieve that particular dream. She also got her long awaited trips to Rhodes and Jordan.

It was after our first trip to India that Guinny died, on March 21st 1990. It may seem an odd inclusion but that cat was a very important part of our family. My mum and dad would later revisit India three more times. Mum nearly ended up moving to Mumbai for work at one point and was devastated when it fell through.
People often see loved ones at the end and honestly I hoped she'd see Guinny... if she received any visitations she did not tell me.

I became a single teenage mum and she was present when Erin was born in January 1996; she babysat Erin when I had her sister Kathleen three years later. My parents were less than thrilled but forged good relationships with my daughters. My mother generously paid for my daughters' swimming lessons, music lessons, school trips etc. My parents enabled us to have holidays and put money aside for their university costs. Erin graduated from Winchester University in 2017, the same year I attained my degree from the Open University. Kathleen graduated from Swansea University in 2021 and is shortly to begin her teacher training. I hope we've made her proud.

My graduation (Brighton 2017): (l-r in background) mum's partner Neville Morrell, 

mum in blue, dad, Kathleen and Erin - so grateful to have had everyone there.

In 2000 my mum lost both her parents in quick succession which heralded a new era in her life. My mother and father parted ways and my mum bought a flat in Reading; she had played oboe in her youth and now took up piano-accordion and soprano sax -playing both in a band - and took retirement. My mum met her partner Neville in 2007 and thereafter divided her time between the Reading area and his home in West Sussex.

On Monday 16th April 2018 my mum suffered a severe stroke, unusually affecting both hemispheres of the brain. Fortunately by this time I was living in a house she and I shared ownership of and she had written up a power-of-attorney document. She was able to leave hospital on 21st June and I cared for her at that home until the end of her life; aided especially by my daughter Erin and my dad (who was conveniently right next door) without whose support we would not have managed.

Her decline began there and progressed in fits and starts. We believe she had at least three more big strokes but as the first such incident happened just a week after the first lockdown of 2020 began (and because the hospital did nothing at all for her first) we took the difficult decision to keep her home. She hated doctors, hospitals, people in general... she had a great deal of fear we would send her away. At that time I believe she'd have died of covid or the perceived abandonment as hospital visitors were not being allowed. It was tough, but we managed.
Following each event we got a little less of her back.
Before the end she had been completely immobile for well over a year, her quality of life was quite poor, and she was deeply unhappy. We were however blessed to make her last birthday - an art deco themed 80th - particularly special, and in January 2025 she asked to be taken out in her wheelchair for several walks. Not only was that unheard of for the time of year but she was more enthusiastic for outings than she had been in YEARS - we're fairly sure she did more walks this January than in the whole of 2024!

Mum in Guadalest, Spain (2006)

Janet Marion Speller passed away on Friday, 14th February 2025 at the age of 80.

She died peacefully at home, as was her express wish.

She is remembered by partner Neville, former partner Owen, daughter Heggie, granddaughters Erin and Kathleen, sister Margaret, brother Alan and sister-in-law Valerie, along with many nieces and nephews, their children and grandchildren.
She was preceded in death by (amongst others) her nephews Sean and Allister, nephew-in-law Jack, niece-in-law Penny, brother-in-law Dave, and several dear friends.

Mum's 80th; October 2024

My mother's final text to me (in 2018) was that Tremors would be on TV that night. The last DVD we attempted to watch together was The Desolation Of Smaug. Her go-to choice for a film was Hot Fuzz. Bizarrely she developed a liking for Cockneys Vs Zombies which she requested several times!

She watched Death In Paradise, Vera, New Tricks... she'd rather gone off Poirot by the end but still enjoyed a Joan Hickson Miss Marple.

My mum's taste in music included Queen, Abba, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, and classical music.

She loved a Terry's Dark Chocolate Orange, hash browns (and just about anything potato), and, in her final years, almost entirely subsisted off crumpets (one with a red jam, the other with Rose's Lemon & Lime marmalade). 
Back in the day she enjoyed a Cinzano and Lemon or coffee with brandy. In recent times she had me buy all the coffee-flavoured milk in the corner shop.

She loathed 'peasants' which, apparently, was her verdict on most people. 😂

 

 

Walks of 2024

Obviously the year is not over and I walk year round but I have finished my 'challenge' walks for the season.

I have been doing The Conqueror Challenges since 2020 and the year after I opted to walk a Marathon (aptly for the Marathon to Athens challenge) and then various Stupidly Long Walks out in the wild to make things more meaningful and more of an *actual* challenge. This year was no different although I mixed it up a bit.

Previously I have chosen to walk distances around the 20 mile mark, overnight. I like walking at night for several reasons: less risk of dehydration or heat exhaustion, I sunburn badly and my eyes are very photosensitive, less people which make an emergency pee in the bushes less of a problem, less traffic and the advantage of headlights making approaching vehicles easier to spot.

Slough to Ascot

My first walk of the year was a fairly modest 13 mile walk to do a section I'd had to re-jig on the aforementioned Marathon to Athens walk - I had intended to take The Long Walk into Windsor Great Park and along the edge of Virginia Water but Google Maps had failed to tell me the park closed at night!

This walk was consequently a daytime one and exceedingly painful as I had made a rookie error with my new hiking trainers but I'm glad to have done it.

The White Cliffs Of Dover

My first mini-break of the year was three nights in Dover to do my English Channel challenge. I'd rather have swum it but having to book swimming sessions just doesn't work for me. I had hoped to wild swim it in my local river until a pollution event put me right off the idea. As it was 2024 really didn't have enough 'summer' to make that workable.

The first walk was a yet more modest 8.3 miles from my hotel in Dover to Folkestone Central passing Samphire Hoe and Abbot's Cliff Sound Mirror. I was a bit peeved that the cliff path I had intended to take had been permanently closed off. Despite the lack of summer this was during a heatwave and I was melting when I set out before dawn!

The second walk was 9.7 miles from Deal Station back to my hotel via the Dover Patrol Memorial, St Margaret's Bay, and Foreland Lighthouse. This was a tad more comfortable as it was less insanely hot... or I had aclimatised.

In between I walked up the Dame Vera Lynn Way to Langdon Bay for a mooch around, and after both 'major' walks I mooched the marina and the New Pier.

Not only were the walks daytime AND rougher terrain than I am used to (absolutely LOVING my hiking poles!) but I had not before committed myself to do two challenging walks on consecutive days. It went pretty well overall but I gave myself such terrible blisters that I had to buy some Barbie Pink sandals from a nearby Poundland so I could get home again!

Cotswold Adjacent

Last year I ended up doing part of the Jurassic Coast Path (toward my Jurassic Coast challenge) from Weymouth purely because I couldn't make a decision about the Cotswold Way challenge.

I chose Chippenham because it is near the Cotswolds, the hotel was affordable, and on the Intercity line. The Cotswold Way proper is not easy to get to if you're dependent on trains as I am.

My first walk was 15.7 miles from Bath Station (the finishing point of the virtual challenge is in Bath) to my hotel in Chippenham. As I have already walked the Bath Road between Newbury and Twyford I have decided to challenge myself to complete the whole thing.

As the actual Cotswold Way was unavailable I looked to Cotswolds-set detective dramas - and that section crosses Box Hill. The Brunel-built Box Hill Tunnel featured in an episode of Macdonald & Dodds.

That first walk went okay. A few more shoe-based issues and some pretty torrential rain on the final stretch but no real dramas. I did the walk the first night of my stay, getting back to the hotel about 5am.

There was however, one problem: the final stretch of that walk would be repeated on the next... and it would be clearly impassible in daylight hours. There were no paths, overgrown verges and even at 3am there was more traffic than I cared for. The second walk *had* to be after dawn so, to quote Hercule Poirot, this caused my furiously to think.

In the end my daughter helped me re-jig the second walk which was a 10.5 mile loop from hotel to Yatton Keynell (purely because I had to visit Tiddleywink), South to Biddestone, North again to Giddeahall and then back into Chippenham. I set out before dawn - sunrise hit a little south of Yatton Keynell - and was back by 9am. That way I was able to avoid encountering much traffic on the roads while still being able to get photos of Biddestone - which is Carsley in the TV adaptation of Agatha Raisin.

Yatton Keynell and Biddestone ARE in the Cotswolds proper, but only just... so my third and final walk of this mini-break aimed to avoid any ambiguity. I took a couple of trains to get to Kemble (no connection with the fictional Kembleford of Father Brown). From here I did a very short 4.5 mile loop up to the Thames Head (source of the River Thames) back down along the Thames Path (even though there was no river to be seen) and back into Kemble.

Southampton

I'd booked a single night in a hotel for a gig that got postponed so naturally I went for a walk!

7.4 miles took me across the Itchen Bridge along to a park called Miller's Pond - I wrote a book called The McKerrows of Miller's Pond on Wattpad - from there up Kathleen Road (my younger daughter's name) along to a 'Spoons where I ate and drank entirely too much, and then back via Northam Bridge.

I got lost twice! Firstly I managed to take a wrong turn out of the 'Spoons, then later I almost ended up in St Mary's Stadium!

That got me back to the hotel around midnight and then in the morning I mooched around Southampton taking in a selection of Titanic memorials. On my way back to the station I got DRENCHED! Even my undercrackers were soaked. I had to change back into my previous day's clothes in the loo on the train which were still somewhat moist from being in my backpack!

Slough To Twyford

My final 'big' walk of the season was a fairly simple overnight stretch of the Bath Road - 13.7 miles. I'll have to revisit Maidenhead sometime - it looked very nice! Unfortunately I really buggered up my left knee on this one. No idea how but it caused me issues almost from the get-go. I had hoped to walk all the way home (a total 17.2 miles) but by Twyford it was excruciating so I sucked up the expense and caught a train and bus home even though I had to sit at Twyford Station for almost two hours waiting for the first train of the day.

Verdict

I still have one more mini-break this year - my first ever visit to Derby - but being December I am unlikely to stray far. 

I may not have done any really big walks this year but I certainly feel that I have succeeded in getting out of my comfort zone with back-to-back walks, off road routes, and daytime walks. 

2025

I intend to walk Nine Mile Ride (14.7 miles) toward one of my Harry Potter challenges - taking in the real-world location of 4 Privet Drive before walking home.

I'm hoping to do some more of the Bath Road - perhaps Slough to Houslow with a detour up to St Dunstan's, Cranford where some ancestors are allegedly buried. That'd be about 12.9 miles. I'm also trying to work out the logistics of the central Chippenham to Newbury section - hopefully breaking at Avebury and Hungerford (Chippenham to Avebury - 13.4 miles, Avebury to Hungerford - 16.7 miles, Hungerford to Newbury - 9.5 miles).

I have a load of challenge codes banked including London which I'd like to at least partially complete real-world.

As for mini-breaks the Southampton gig has been rescheduled for January which is not very conducive for walking and the only other thing I have booked is a gig in London in March... and I haven't even booked accommodation!