Yes, alright, the straight up truth is I lay there yesterday morning on the surgical table thinking 'I can't die now, I just got the new cutting dies from Sixxiz!' Oh. Dear.

Yes, it's true, the 'papercrafting' bug has struck and struck hard. Honestly don't think I could have made it through the past eight months without it. Bonus - we made all our Christmas cards this year and I sold several boxes at a craft fair. My dear husband now thinks perhaps this papercrafting lark has some merit - I made back a fair bit of my initial investment.

See, what happened was, back in early March 2019 I had what was to have been Round1 of root canal treatment - without prophylactic antibiotics thanks to the surgery (GP practice) I'd been registered at until we moved to our downsizer in a smaller town six miles away, the surgery that for some insane reason shredded the medical records I'd hand-carried from America. The surgery that labelled me a complainer for wanting my heart condition checked on schedule. The surgery that told the dentist office 'No, she doesn't have a heart condition!'.

So the dentist (a replacement for the old one who could tell by looking at me I did indeed have a heart condition and he'd be wise to order prophylactic antibiotics for anything more extreme than a simple filling) went on with the treatment and within a week I was on the verge of cardiac tamponade (when the pericardial sac around the heart fills with fluid and squeezes the heart to the point of stopping it...).

I ignored the symptoms, putting it down to 'a cold', 'the flu', overweight and out of shape...anything but what my brain kept insisting (GIRL! You have endocarditis or at least a whomping case of your recurrent pericarditis, FFS go to the GP you numpty!').

Until I returned to the dentist for Round2 and he realised I was probably in the midst of a heart attack (I wasn't but only because he made my husband drive me straight over to the GP surgery to register and be seen as an emergency). The GP took one look, one listen, and had me in the Rapid Access Chest Pain unit so fast my head was spinning. One thing led to another but the short story is my medical records have been corrected, my multiple heart conditions 're-diagnosed' and noted, I'm under the care of a rather superb cardiologist, and every time the dentist looks at me it's only after a course of antibiotics.

Right, so we owe the dentist. The GP, the cardiologist, and all the techs I've seen since say the same thing - 'The dentist saved your life!'. And he did, I know this, and we're sending him a Scottish Dentistry approved thank-you gift for Christmas - without him I wouldn't be seeing another Christmas...something my cardiologist pointed out yesterday just before the angiogram I was sure I wasn't going to survive.

Without being overly maudlin (hard to do when I think about it), the cardiologist and the surgeon and not a few of the nurses thought I was leaving there without at least some stents and more likely quadruple bypass (yeah, well, it really has been that bad here these past eight months). I went in there yesterday genuinely afraid my ticket was about to be punched.

Of course, I did make it through, and I was alert enough to be discharged the same day! During, though, I really didn't think I was going to make it through that angiogram AND right heart study - the angio went through my wrist, my dislocated biceps got in the way and the artery there decided to spasm when they were withdrawing the wires; the right heart study went through my groin AND IT WASN'T AS 'FUN' as the angiogram. But I did come home, and with a rather good result - no blockages, no need for anything...except the finding I am in smack up in the middle of yet another pericarditis flare. sigh

The reason for yesterday? My cardiologist (very-very good and I do trust him, I want to point that out) had never heard of pericarditis (which I knew was the problem - but I didn't go to med school and then specialise in cardiology so I wasn't about to argue overmuch with his training!) causing angina, had never heard of pericardial effusion causing angina, had never heard of Dengue Fever Stage2 (which I had in '95) causing pericarditis much less recurrent pericarditis that also caused angina. He was certain I was in terrible shape and on death's door and maybe even surgery wouldn't help, and did I make out my will and leave instructions for my husband? He wanted to be sure I had all the stents and bypasses he was so sure I was going to need. He kept saying I should be on statins. He was absolutely certain angina doesn't happen without blockages...

Now? Bottom line, he promises never to offer me statins again as my arteries are completely clear, and my heart-lung function is so good he wishes he had my stats. And he told me 'You're right, I did some checking before you came in this morning, and Dengue IS well known to cause recurrent pericarditis AND angina pain in Dengue endemic countries. I'll be following your case for years to come, I won't be discharging you back to your GP for years if ever.'

Could be worse, he could have insisted I take the standard medication (which gives me such horrible side effects it isn't worth trying to use). He could have given in to the other surgeon saying I should be kept in hospital under the effusion 'is sorted' (takes months, ask me how I know this...).

Instead I'm walking a half mile once a week to the GP for her to listen for pericardial rub and in the New Year (probably the second week of January) I'll be having an MRI to see how bad the inflammation is after I've been home-caring myself until the MRI. The GP says she'll see me Monday for the first listen and she's already been told how to reach the cardiologist if the rub sounds worse. Endless pots of chicken soup here I come!

So, I didn't die, and I can get back on the papercrafting once my wrist heals and stops this aching - suits me, there's another crafts fair in three weeks I want to set up a stall on.

I. Am. Not. A. Foodie.

But I do have to confess to a salt and pepper mill obsession. It's not my fault. I've come to the obsession late in life - despite decades of fine dining (meaning watching the waiter ceremoniously twist a mill over my dish, and having a qualified chef for a son), and the occasional meal in someone's home where the mills were passed casually and don't you dare wonder where the shakers are, diddums!

I just wasn't all that interested in mills. Especially after my sodium intake was ordered restricted (WAH!) and I've never really been a pepper fan; I couldn't wrap my head around other diners being so blinking obsessed with finding THE perfect mill and who really truly could spend the entire meal (and afters, crashing bores, I thought them) going on about the things including how they found the most marvellous set whilst on holiday at (insert name of eye-wateringly expensive holiday destination here).

And then I had a revelation. It all started when we moved house last year and Aspie Paul went behind me to 'repack properly' every bloody box I carefully packed and clearly labelled and stacked in the...wait. I've moaned about this before.

Any road, arriving to the new home, having the removals men stack boxes according to my clear large labels (bedroom boxes to the bedroom, kitchen boxes to the kitchen...) then opening box after box to find Paul had 'repacked properly' - bloody GDit, even the 'essentials' box I'd packed to come in the car with us so we'd have, you know, the essentials like the kettle, a jar of premium instant coffee (there is such a thing, it almost fools you into thinking it's real coffee), mugs, plates, two microwavable cooking vessels, cutlery (BritSpeak for eating and serving utensils)...AND THE BLOODY SALT AND PEPPER SHAKERS!

Grrrrrrrrrr - opened that box to find the kettle missing its heating plate, no coffee, in fact nothing I'd packed in that box including THE BLOODY SALT AND PEPPER SHAKERS! Instead I found his fishing kit. Really. His reason? The box was just the right size.

Restraining myself from giving Paul a right good telling off (what's the point with an Aspie, they only stand there blinking at you wondering what the hell you're on about, and if they're at all like Paul, going into an hours long sulk because you were mean to them), I grabbed my purse and stalked down to the ironmongers - OMFG kettles, mugs, 'cheap but good enough to get us through' cutlery, all eye-wateringly expensive and in my foolishness I thought I could do better down the local Co-Op (supermarket chain here in Britain, proper name is Co-Operative). Worst, the ironmonger did not stock salt and pepper shakers, they only had shockingly expensive 'mill sets', which admittedly did come filled, so there was that. But on to the Co-Op, sure I'd find shakers there. And cheap cutlery and kettles...

No salt and pepper shakers there but I did find salt and pepper 'refills' - that can't be used to do anything but actually refill. Sigh. I did find disposable cutlery and serving ware plus some over-priced glass bowls promising to be 'microwave and dishwasher safe', and a more reasonably priced travel kettle (1.5L instead of our 2L one I'd packed...).

Back to the ironmonger where I forked over more than £25 (I was that angry with Paul at that point) for the mill set.

Went home and managed to get a halfway decent meal on the table...

And fell into a serious obsession with dining table mills.

OMG, who knew?! Well obviously everyone but me (including my son who couldn't believe I'd managed so long without a proper mill set). I'm going to restrain myself but I will say there is something so luxuriously divine about twisting that mill over your pot/serving dish/dinner plate...

Right. So ever since I've been on a sort of quest to find a seriously good quality mill set - the £25+set being alright in a pinch but clearly better surely exists out there somewhere (finer milling, for one - I have some expensive dental work threatened by the occasional large chunk of sea salt, I'll have you know!).

FF to this morning when my favourite UK homewares store email circular landed to my inbox.

I thought, oh why not, let's see if they've got any nice new mill sets on offer. Er, no, but it did make me slightly smug to see my locally purchased name-brand set (oh ok, Cole and Mason, supposedly the best for things like mills) was A-the most expensive set 'on offer' (20% off) and B-three times the price I'd paid locally even though the one in the circular was 20% off.

Which is both good and bad, good I'd got my set on bargain but not good it's rated as the best. I've now officially given up 'retail' shopping for a top quality mill set and will be looking at restaurant supply. Bad as I hate having to try finding a restaurant supply shop locally or even within the 50 or so miles one way I'm willing to travel to find a shop where I can see and touch and perhaps see a demonstration.

Worst, worst, worst, looking at the circular I realised KitchenAid stand mixers are still horrendously expensive, and for what, I ask, for what?! £550 regular price, £350 on offer - and I still would have to buy attachments that run from £40-£200 each!

I sat here on the sofa looking at that asking myself who in there right mind buys something like that just to bake a nice sponge in their home kitchen, who?! My son has one (and all the attachments accumulated as gifts or purchased one at a time over time) - he's a professional, he needs a decent stand mixer and who makes a better one than KitchenAid, it's the gold standard. But my Kenwood hand mixer+several good silicone spatulas and a nice collection of wooden spoons are more than enough to serve my baking needs, and surely enough for the average home baker barring Mary Berry (who's not really yer average home baker anyway).

sigh. My search for THE perfect salt and pepper mill set continues.

On the bright side, all the Christmas shopping is done. Now I'm onto a small bit of sewing (dressing gown and PJs for Paul), and finishing up a crochet 'Napper's Blanket' for his fishing mate.

Weather wise, the rains have stopped up here in NE Scotland - for now - and it has turned bitterly cold. The first set of winter bedding is on the bed (three sets washed and vacuum packed in late March so ready to go when cold weather hit), the spring, summer, and autumn sets having been washed and vacuum packed away in their turns to await the return of their seasons.

Meals shifted from summer-autumn lighter meals to heavier winter fare. It came earlier than usual this year, and our Indian Summer lasted a mere two days in early October. It's been cooling rapidly with leaves beginning to turn in late August and the last having fallen the beginning of this week. Winter boots now lying dangerously scattered in the entry hall...

I love autumn, it truly is my favourite time of the weather year. Winter comes a very close second, there is something so soul-satisfying about the way a winter sun (oh, that rare beast!) comes through the windows as I cosy up on the sofa under a Napper's Blanket to stitch or read or...

Speaking of the Napper's Blanket...I love a good cosy on the sofa. I love an afternoon winter nap on the bed I made that morning. But I don't love struggling to feel cosy under a standard afghan - why are those things so meagre?! The patterns for those things are never big enough to cover anyone older than ten for a nice kip! You lay there trying to cover feet and shoulders and hips if rolling over, and the futility of it all kills your deliciously sleepy interest in the nap.

So I designed one myself. Depending on the yarn weight, it's 100% acrylic (around 3500m/4000yds total, I like stripes so usually 2600m main colour, 1000 contrast stripes and border+extra for joining yarn when making colour changes) ch200 (aran/4W, 25-50 less or more if 3W or 5W respectively to reach 78-80 inches long so feet and shoulders are cosy at the same time), sc/dc (US/UK) into the back ridge across for the foundation row then sc/dc back-loop only across, ch1 and repeat across working to 65 inches wide (so the roll over covers hip and back nicely). Then I go around in sc/dc in a complimentary contrast border band 'until it looks right'.

Machine wash 40C delicates/sensitive/synthetics, tumble dry low (air drying tends to flatten the texture created by the BLO stitching). Napping bliss, these blankets are amazing if I do say so myself. Paul likes his so much he spent most of the summer sleeping the night under his on top of the made bed - he was a little grumpy when I changed the bedding and folded his Napper's Blanket to the end of the bed. He tried sleeping under it again a few nights ago and had to admit he should have gone under the covers instead. And he's grumpy about that, btw.

Mindless crochet once the foundation row is done, I'm quite enjoying the mindlessness whilst feeling I'm actually accomplishing something during my semi-invalid state (more on that in a later blog. I'm ok but am having to have some more invasive testing soon. yay. not)

I've made three so far and everyone who sees them wants one.