Foot and mouth

There is much in the news about that horrific Foot and Mouth Disease that has struck the UK again.

I remember with dread when FMD struck us in the 1960s.

I was milking our lovely pure bred Guernsey herd of 70 cows plus their followers (calf heifers, heifers and calves). All of our cows were home-reared by myself, something that I and my family loved doing very much. FMD was coming rather too close to our farm. Every night when I was milking, one of my two daughters or my wife would come to tell me after the evening news that the outbreaks were down to 40. I would breathe a sigh of relief, only to be told the following night that there were up to 70 new outbreaks. The tension was horrific. I swore that if our herd got FMD the first to be shot had to be me. And I meant it!

The stress was so dreadful. The 'brucella bug', which I had contracted whilst working on a large Cheshire farm many years earlier and which had been lying dormant, flared up again.

Thank God, our Guernsey herd did not get FMD disease. But I was very ill for quite a long time.

Helicopter

When I wrote about the different aircraft which I had enjoyed flying in, I failed to mention the most 'orrible one, and that was a flight in a helicopter.

I got in it sitting next to two ladies. The door closed behind me, but didn't appear to have been closed properly. I tried to tell the attendant this, but we were already many feet in the air!

The noise was horrendous. The two ladies pressed against me. We all had earphones which were supposed to be giving us a commentary as we flew over Chester. But because the engine was so very noisy we couldn't hear any commentary at all.

The helicopter banked over so much that I was worried in case the darn door should fly open!

I was very glad when we landed and I could get out of it.

Helicopters do - of course - do excellent work, but for me this was no 'joyride'.

p.s. I am going into a respite home next Monday for two weeks, as it will give my wife Margaret a break.

Trigger

One of our sons, Russ, still lives with Margaret and I here at Caerwys.

Russ always excellent and gentle with our Guernsey herd when we were farming, far better in fact than I ever was. But now, as we are no longer farming and living at a private house, Russ now has some lovely, gentle and large American Bull dogs that he looks after. He has trained his dogs expertly.

Russ, who is a retired undisputed World Champion kickboxer, has started up a security business. Four people work for Russ.

Russ has a fully-equipped gym on the ground floor at our house, while Margaret and I live on the first floor - I have a special type of electric lift which takes me in my wheelchair up to our floor. Russ lives in the fully self-contained flat on the top floor.

Russ, at their request, visits local schools, where there he teaches self-defence (very popular with ladies and girls in particular), temper control and generally helps people to become model citizens. In fact, one headmistress has said that one her pupils was so naughty that she was on the verge of expelling him. However, since attending Russ's classes, he is now a model pupil.

Recently, Russ travelled to the Ukraine where he has set up a number of kickboxing clubs. His dogs love him very much and miss him when he goes away on these trips. On one such occasion, I was sitting on my recliner in our lounge, when Trigger - one of Russ's dogs - came to me whining. He appeared distressed and obviously wanted me to follow him.

I struggled into my electric wheelchair and obediently followed Trigger to the bottom of our stairs. It became clear that Trigger wanted me to go up the stairs to fetch Russ for him! With Russ being abroad I couldn't grant Trigger's wish, so I gave him a big hug. This seemed to pacify him.

I told Russ about this when he returned. Now when Russ goes away, he makes sure that Trigger sees him leave so that the dog understands that Russ is not hiding upstairs and knows that I cannot call him down! Russ has been away since, but Trigger has never asked for my help again.

Delightful

I had a request from the chairman of a gliding club.

He'd read an article that I'd written about the fauna and flora on Halkyn mountain. I'd written it in my pre-MS days. I was a District and Community councillor back then and was disgusted at some folk who were dumping rubbish on our 2000 acre Halkyn mountain. I hope that my article would help more people appreciate some of the interesting beauty there.

Anyway, the gliding club chairman, Ken Payne, wrote to me because he wanted help getting publicity for the club. He said that I could have a free flight in one of their gliders if I would write an article about it.

I was happy to oblige.

Here's what I wrote in the article...

There is an old saying 'That if God had meant folk to fly, He would have provided us with wings'. Well, He didn't so folk get up in the sky in all types of aircraft.

The gigantic intercontinental airliners make for very boring long flights, I think. The longest that I have ever done was to Melbourne, Australia.

Then there are the monoplanes, from which I did my two sponsored charity jumps.

The double wings, Tiger Moths, on which I flew whilst on holiday in the Isle of White. We flew over The Needles.

The remote-controlled tiny unmanned aircraft for photographing fields.

But the ones I enjoy most are gliders.

The first glider I flew in was winch-controlled. This meant there was a winch about 100 yards away from the plane. A car parked near the glider would flash its lights, the signal at which the winch would begin to tow the glider along the ground. The glider moved very quickly and then bump-bump on the ground. Suddenly, we were up in the air and climbed very quickly up to 1000 feet. It made Concord's take-off seem sluggish.

The glider pilot would seek a thermal to fly on which would keep us in the air much longer. The deafening silence was truly lovely. I was so busy taking photographs that the time went by very quickly.

The next time that I went up in a glider it was towed up by another plane. The plane towed us up to 10,000 feet at which point the glider pilot released the towing cable. This would cause the glider to come to a complete stop. I thought we would plunge down to our certain deaths. But no, we would glide happily about.

Compared to my other favourite outdoor pursuits of sailing, golfing and motorcycling, gliding is without doubt also most delightful.

TT

Geff Duke, the legendary motorcycle racer, was almost responsible for my young bride Margaret and I having our first row.

We were wed on Saturday 4th June 1955 at Port St Mary on the most Southernly part of the Isle of Man. We stayed on at Port St Mary for a few extra days so we could watch the TT (Tourist Trophy) motorcycle race on the Monday.

We were motorcyclists ourselves back then as we couldn't afford to buy and run a car. We very happily ran an elderly but very reliable Norton motorcycle. Margaret was an excellent pillionist and we rode many hundreds of miles on it.

(In 1950, the UK supplied 90% of the world's motorcycles, about 30 different makes from the AJS and the Ariel to the magnificent Vincents. Now, other than the Triumph, most are, sadly, gone)

So, we were on our honeymoon in the Isle of Man watching the TT races. An ice cream and soft drinks van was parked in a lay-by not far from where we were standing. As it was a very hot day Margaret asked if we could buy and some liquid refreshment. I gave Margaret a stern look and asked her if we could wait a couple of minutes as Geff Duke was due to come past.

Moments later, Geff Duke sped past. It was announced on the speakers that he had - for the first time - reached 100 miles per hour. A record.

I thought then it would be physically impossible for anyone to go faster than that!
Nowadays, Japanese and Italian motorbikes achieve over 126 mph which is over 25% faster. Truly amazing!

Years roll by

That young grandson of ours sitting on that quad motorbike with me is now 18 years old. He has a lovely steady girlfriend, and a job which he enjoys as an electrician.

How the years roll by so quickly.

Our eldest son is a vet in Melbourne, Australia. He and his lovely friendly wife Jane - who is a microbiologist in Melbourne, are also here on holiday. They are in a bit of a dilemma as although they both love living in Australia, they also have a small 50 acre farm here in Wales where they keep horses mainly. They do miss their families back here in the UK.

My other son Russ, lives here with Margaret and I and his very pretty and friendly girlfriend Victoria from the Ukraine.

Black market

Illegal drugs, such as cannabis, can be fairly easy to obtain from 'back street traders'. Some people believe that cannabis use can encourage youngsters - in particular - to move on to stronger drugs, such as crack cocaine or heroin, with devastating consequences.

I think that if lower classed drugs such as cannabis were legalised and available from 'approved sources' it would help to spell the demise of the black market supply chain.

In America, legalising alcohol led to the demise of the millionaire gangsters who were making fortunes selling illegal alcohol.

Three years ago, a statement was made in the House of Lords, stating 'We now have sufficient evidence to convince us that a doctor should legitimately be able to prescribe cannabis (taken orally) without fear of being prosecuted'.

I'm looking forward to seeing how our Sandie is getting on with her Cannabis trial.

It is interesting that when I was having much pain, the doctor put me on morphine. The side effects of this addictive substance were dreadful, much worse than cannabis. Yet the doctor was able to prescribe it legally!