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What I am up to

It’s getting towards the end of the year and it occurred to me that I haven’t really spoken about what I’ve been doing, so I thought I should. A few years ago Ruth and I created our own company called Johnny Muttley which was an online retailer of gifts for dogs and dog lovers. After doing this for a few years we realised that we needed to have something else going on otherwise all we did all day, every day, every single day, always, was talk about dogs. This of course is lovely but became a little dull for everybody else, and frankly for ourselves as well. 

We both had a long-standing interest in vintage and retro items for our own home. In 2018 we started to go to auctions and quickly found that we both loved doing this. After a fair bit of discussion, given that we were already running a number of online retail sites, we decided to open an online retro and vintage goods Emporium. Following the discovery of a postcard of a really rather grumpy Edwardian lady, we came up with the name Moody Mabel.

During the following two years we quickly established Moody Mabel as a viable business in its own right and decided in 2020 that this would be our primary focus going forward. We loved it and it fitted in well with our plans for the future. We hadn’t planned of course for COVID-19, lockdown, or Ruth’s illness. Our company has now been renamed as Moody Mabel Ltd, although it’s now only me I run it on the principles that Ruth and I established. 

I don’t randomly buy STUFF because it is old, instead preferring to buy items that I like. It’s important that I can look at things and think would they make Ruth smile, or would I put them up in my own home. If I can’t answer yes to these questions then I prefer to not buy. Please do pop over to the website and take a look, I hope you like the retro and vintage homeware that you see and even if there is nothing for you please do tell your friends.

I’m planning to be around the country more in 2023, and it would be good to see you. If you have particular things that you are looking out for, please give me a shout.

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The last day we were ok

A year ago today was the last day we were ok, the last day that we were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to us, the last day before we knew. To be perfectly frank there was nothing to remember about that day, except that it was our puppy Beetle’s first birthday. It was a day like many others. We got up, walked the dogs, Ruth probably spent a few hours at the allotment, I did some work, we may or may not have had a short afternoon nap, then we ate, then we slept. Nothing remarkable or notable in any way, except that we were ok.

The following lunchtime we ate in our local town and Ruth drove us back. Part way home she asked me to grab the wheel. When I asked why she said that she had no control of her left arm. We pulled over and swapped seats so I could get us home. When she got into the passenger seat and tried to close the door, she was shutting it on her leg. Once we got home she took to bed but was speaking and feeling fine. She thought she may have had a small stroke. We arranged for her to visit the Doctors the following morning where they took blood to get tests done. We were called in 24 hours later. The Doctor said that they had found an anomaly and needed to do some more blood work. It would need to be done at the local hospital. Innocently Ruth asked when? He replied “Right now”. It was the Friday of August Bank Holiday and for the first time we were both worried.

We thought it would be a few hours but they kept her for three days. Then the phone call “I can come home! Please come and get me, but you are going to have to be brave.” I made it to the hospital like lightening. “I have Cancer.” As I began to launch into the ‘we’ll fight it together, it will be ok’ speech she stopped me. “It is in my chest and has already spread to my brain. You are going to need to be really, really brave”.

What came after that was a few weeks of bewilderment and despair. What was the prognosis? (50% of the people with this make it to 6 months). What are the treatment options? (the chest needed chemo, the head needed radio. Not any radio but extensive because the cancer was all over her brain. Oh and one had to be finished before the other could be started). The realisation that her 6 months was now 5 months and could be extended with all of the horrid treatment to maybe 7 months. The hardest of decisions, 7 months of hell or maybe 3 good months before a decline. We told the children and then the family together that the decision was no treatment.

We targeted a good last Christmas for her and to be fair we did that, with some days in the sun and some wobbles along the way. Then a rapid decline, by mid January a transfer to the hospice and a month later my darling girl was gone. Five and a half bloody months from diagnosis to gone.

There is so much more I could say, the lying on the bed together holding hands, the strength of our children, the funeral planning and her ‘after-party’ playlist, the support from family and friends and the dreadful hole where she used to be.

Today is Beetle’s 2nd birthday. He and Ripley and I have been without Ruth for 6 months and it is the anniversary of the last day we were ok.

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And back in the room!

It has been a while! A lot has happened in the last five years including a few terribly sad things. I willl get to those on another day. For today I just wanted to say that I will be blogging more frequently from now on (tbh I couldn’t really blog less frequently). The first few posts may be a little sad or miserable (sorry, not sorry) but the intention is not to turn this into a blog of sorrow. Bear with me and you will see that there is hope, and resilience, oh and some more hope. I’m back in the room.

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A year has passed

It’s been a year, dear blog and I have been neglecting you. A year ago today I arrived home from a meeting in London and took our beloved Gizmo-Cairn to be pts. I guess I have needed some time to process what happened, the unfairness of it, the shock and the effect on the family. I decided to make that a year sabbatical from this blog and a few other things that had been troubling me.

This gap year, things in general have been better. After a few years of trials and tribulations, when at times I wondered if I was becoming a man diminished, I now know that I am not. It is the same me, with the same energy as ever – perhaps I just needed a little time to think, to mull things over, to make cunning plans and to settle back into a rhythm.

We now have two strange and interesting new Cairns, Hattie and Bella. Rescue sisters who are 9 years old and can honestly be described as characters. They have helped mend broken hearts and restore a sense of lunacy that was crushed a year ago today.

Take a deep breath, gaze across the shore to the sea, feel the salt spray and let’s begin.

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Giving away good

I think I first heard it on a GKIC CD, the idea that you can’t give away too much good. I heard it and I liked it. The theory was a business theory, specifically about getting referrals. My friend George Savva would say that a referral should be given without thought of any benefit to the giver, i.e. what you give will come back to you many times over, but not directly.

It is the same with good deeds and freely given information. Sure, there are those who just take, but the majority of us are decent people aren’t we? The difficulty of course comes with the few who are mean of spirit, selfish and guarded – but hey, let’s ignore them for a minute. In fact let’s just ignore them permanently.

So the thought for the day reader is give away a little more than you get every day. Do a favour, help someone out, say thank you and we shall see if it comes back to us.

The dandelion has between 180 and 2000 seeds which are dispersed through the wind. Pay-it-forward suggests three good deeds.

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Update on the pen pal saga

Well how about this for serendipity….

When I was at school/college my best friend was a girl called Carol. We used to write letters and letters and letters – the memory of that was one of the things that spurred me on to look for a penpal – hence the last blog entry.

Shortly after making the entry I got a (totally unrelated) message on Facebook from Carol. We re-acquainted ourselves and re-started the correspondence after a mere 27 year gap and it is as if it never stopped – the only difference being that we are now both married with kids.

There is nothing quite like the anticipation of a letter dropping through your letterbox….

Happy New Year to all.

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Searching for a pen pal!

So here is an interesting dilemma and I’d appreciate your advice.

In amongst all of the online stuff we all do, I actually enjoy writing letters (real letters, pen, ink, envelopes, stamps – you get the picture). So I’m asking online how you think I could go about getting an old fashioned pen-pal, one who would like to communicate only by letter. Male or Female, no agenda, letters that I could happily show my wife if she asked etc etc.

Am I bonkers? Is it possible to still do this? Do such people still exist? Do you know anyone, English speaking (writing), anywhere in the world?

Or am I too late………

Searching for a pen pal

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FFS

No, not what you were thinking FFS = For Four Square. I have joined up, have a bunch of badges and more offers for Domino’s Pizza than you can imagine, and am mayor of everything from my home to my office to my own left foot.

I really love Social media but also appreciate the amount of time it can waste. I am currently en route to London to a short but tough meeting and am documenting the delayed journey via foursquare – follow me for the full gory details but thus far we have been @Newportstation, @Bristol Parkway, @ Bath, @Chippenham, @ Swindon and soon may get to @DidcottbloodyParkway.

If you can contain your excitement I will be coming through the @revolvingdoors sometime today.FFS!

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July 14th 2010 is my 50th birthday. They tell me it’s all over now – it isn’t!!…..

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear…oh poo, what’s my name?

Suffice it to say that from my point of view nothing has changed, my hips haven’t fallen off today, I still have my teeth, and policemen still look like policemen. 50 is the new 30, bald is the new hairstyle and I will not go gentle into any good night, thank you very much.

So rather than commiserate with me, please join me in looking forward to the next 50 years (ok maybe that is tempting fate a bit), play a little punk music or Children Of The Revolution and watch as I pick up more speed as I run past. No big party this time, hopefully a barefoot walk along a beach.

Have a good day, leave comments and talk soon.