Wednesday 30 January 2013

Hands, tongues and never been kissed...

The Hand!

On Saturday I did a silly thing. I had two things in the oven.  A frying pan of kedgeree and a tray of roasting beetroot.  Needless to say the frying pan handle was hot – extremely so.  I took it out of the oven.  I’m not that daft – I used an oven glove to pick it up.  I placed it on top of the stove.  A minute or two later I took the tray of beetroot out of the oven.  I’m not that daft – I used an oven glove to pick it up.

There wasn’t quite enough room on top of the stove to put it down so I used my left hand to pick up the frying pan by the handle.  I’m that daft – I failed to use an oven glove to pick it up. 

I shoved burns cream on it - we keep it by the stove because I'm always burning myself.  Not usually through stupidity but because my sensory nerves don't register heat or cold properly.  Then  I put my hand in cold water.

After ten minutes I realised the agony wasn’t just going to disappear so I called Richard in.  He looked up what to do on the Internet.  Apparently very cold water is the worst thing you can do. If the shock to the heart doesn’t kill you the agony from the extreme temperature change does.  So we added some hot water until it was cool.  Aaah. Moderate relief.  The problem was I couldn't take my hand out of the water for the next two hours.  Every time I did I was doubled up in agony.  Eventually I managed it and I sat and watched the TV while Richard plied me with cups of tea in the hope it might take my mind of it as I watched the blisters grow and grow.  

Richard had also looked up whether one should go to hospital – It said anyone over 60 should, any severe burn to the hand should, anyone with heart problems should, etc. etc....  Obviously I decided not to.  After all, I’m a bloke!

Any way.  This is what you should do if you ever burn your hand really badly -

Immediately put your hand in lukewarm /warm water to stop the burning process.  It can possibly avoid blistering as well.  Never put any kind of burn cream or balm or butter or suchlike on it because that will contain the heat and keep it burning.  Under no circumstances use ice cold water - that puts your hand into shock and can also give anyone with a weak heart a heart attack - always use lukewarm water.

Leave it under water for at least 10-15 minutes so it can cool the tissues underneath to prevent it from continuing to burn within.  If need be, keep it under for as long as is necessary to stop the pain being unbearable. 

Only then should you apply your burn cream.  Among the herbal remedies recommended if you lack burn cream but have them in the house are aloe vera or lavender oil in a carrier oil.

Never pop the blisters.

Wrap with gauze only if you are going to be covering it with clothing or while you are sleeping.   The rest of the time leave it open to air - this will help it heal faster.

For pain take ibuprofen (it has an anti-inflammatory in it to help reduce swelling).  Take 200-400mg every 6 hours but no more than 1200mg in 24 hours.

Report to the E.R. if:
- the redness or swelling subsequently increases
- the burn begins to drain pus of any color
- you begin to run a fever of 101.0 or higher
- you have red lines extending up your hand to the rest of your body
All of the above are signs of infection and you'll need antibiotics a.s.a.p. to treat it.

I'll spare you a picture of my hand but suffice to say it has survived a lot bettrer than I desrved and whikst I can't grab anything at the moment I can at least use a couple of finger tips for typing..

 Old Postcards

I have bought some old postcards on E-bay.  They are a mixture of unused and posted.  Whilst I was really after the unused ones to use for postcrossing the used ones are equally interesting.  I loved this one to Ethel from her friend Jinnie in 1907.

 I'll treat you to some more of these another time.

For those suffering from Ivy withdrawal symptoms...

You’ve heard of a Terrapin
And a Pterosauraurus?
May I now introduce you
To a little Terropus….

“How come she’s allowed out and I’m not?”
“A girl’s got to keep herself clean.  You never know when a young Tom might come along!”

“Did you know my tongue has backwards-facing rigid spines about 500 micrometers long, which contain keratin and are called papillae. These spines allow us to groom ourselves by licking our fur, with the rows of papillae acting like a hairbrush.”

“Have you noticed my new collar.”

“Those meanies have put a bell on it to warn the birdies and mice when I am eventually allowed out.  I've been very good and not complained about it at all.”

Monday 28 January 2013

Billy Fury

Today is the anniversary of Billy Fury's death.  I can't believe he died thirty years ago!

 (Click to enlarge)

Friday 25 January 2013

A laugh or two

The Sidebar

I’m gradually up-dating my Rambles sidebar.  So if your blog was on it and has disappeared don’t worry, hopefully it will be back soon. I have decided there are too many old, disused blogs on there, including a lot of my own.  Hopefully, it’s a sidebar for the 21st century that will soon be done.  

Thanks to Wendy’s Facebook pages…

I always knew it would happen –

She does exist but she isn’t the push-over you thought she was –

The Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science (Official) posted this –

 Another Laugh for Today
A mother is invited by her son, Anthony, for dinner. He lives with a female flatmate, Tina. During the course of the meal, his mother couldn't help but notice how pretty Anthony's flatmate is. Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his flatmate than met the eye. Reading his mom's thoughts, Anthony volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Tina and I are just flatmates.'' 
About a week later, Tina came to Anthony saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find my silver sugar bowl. You don't suppose she took it, do you?" "Well, I doubt it, but I'll email her, just to be sure. " So he sat down and wrote an email: Dear Mama, I'm not saying that you "did" take the sugar bowl from my flat; I'm not saying that you "did not" take it. But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner. Love, Anthony.
Several days later, Anthony received a response email from his Mama which read: Dear son, I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Tina, and I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with her. But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now. Love, Mama.

Thursday 24 January 2013

Galileo, Balaclava and a Vinegar Museum - what more could you want?

Balaclava Heroes
I have been going through Uncle Eric’s stamp album to see if there is anything worth keeping (not a lot) or selling (nothing) and sorting it into different batches to give to some of the postcrossers who mention that they collect used stamps.
In the album were a couple of items not related to stamps.  This was one of them (if you click on it the picture should enlarge) –

Presumably it was a handbill from an event he went to see.  It gives an idea of the amount of time his and our generations spanned between them when you think that he met a survivor of Balaclava who saw the Charge of the Light Brigade.

Museums on my Wish List
Partner-who-loves-tea believes we should compile a ‘wish-list’ (she won’t call it a bucket list) of things we want to do either this year or some time.  I can’t think of many things I particularly want to do - I’m too realistic about money to include some of the more exciting things like have the gutters replaced, the windows double-glazed or buy the original of Francine van Hove’s 'Les dimanches de La Rochelle' (1993) from the private collector who owns it.  
 Francine van Hove’s 'Les dimanches de La Rochelle'
But I did manage to think of one thing – I want to visit more museums and art galleries.
Among those I would include are Cuckooland in Cheshire (a cuckoo clock museum) simply beacuse it isn't very far away; Barometer World in Okehampton, Devon which is near my daughter's;  and The Land of Lost Content, Museum of 20th century life, in Craven Arms, Shropshire. 
There seems to be some debate about whether the Land of Lost Content allows photos.  I have e-mailed to ask them if they do and whether I visit or not may be dependent upon their reply.  One person got permission from a man on the phone only to be told when they got there that they couldn't and that 'the man was my husband and he works for me'.  Strange!

National Mustard Museum
  Museums I shan’t be too bothered about missing are the Dog Collar Museum in Maidstone, Kent; the National Mustard Museum in Wisconsin; Leila’s Hair Museum (jewellery made from human hair) in Missouri; the International Vinegar Museum in South Dakota; the Guanajuato Mummy Museum (dead bodies not mothercare!) in Mexico; the Shin-Yokohama Ramen (noodle) Museum in Japan;  the Sulabh Museum of Toilets in New Delhi; or the European Asparagus Museum in Schrobenhausen, Germany.  Does the fact that it is the 'European' Asparagus Museum suggest there is an American or Asian or African one, I wonder?  How many Asparagus Museums can one have?

Galileo’s Dream
I thought I had already reviewed this book but according to the search engine I don’t seem to have done. Renaissance Italy is not my preferred setting for a novel but the book ‘Galileo’s Dream’ by Kim Stanley Robinson has gone straight on to my top 100 list.  It mixes the exploration of a scientific discovery with tremendous characterisation and a real joy in the use of words.  It also takes Galileo, and us, well into the future to explore the planets on foot. The quotations from Galileo’s writings are most enlightening while the plot is a science fiction and time travel novel with a difference. 
My favourite quotation from the book – out of many – is :-
“We all have seven secret lives. The life of excretion; the world of inappropriate sexual fantasies; our real hopes; our terror of death; our experience of shame; the world of pain; and our dreams. No one else ever knows these lives. Consciousness is solitary. Each person lives in that bubble universe that rests under the skull, alone.”

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