The Countryman’s Daughter

Nobody wants a hot dog

A couple of spiders had a stand-off on my decking during a recent warm spell

I write this column some time before it is published, and today as I put finger to keyboard, it is gloriously sunny. I am outside basking in the rare heat, determined to make the most of it while I can, even if I can barely see what I am writing on my screen. As we Brits know only too well, this beautiful weather is likely to be short lived so I’m happy to squint as I work.

It is blissful and I think the wildlife in my garden are celebrating too. The birds seem extra chirpy and excitable, the bees and flies extra busy and buzzy, and the ants and beetles extra industrious as they hurry about their daily business.

My attention is caught by a couple of spiders on the decking having a standoff. They look to be eyeing each other up, keeping very very still, until one moves a bit, then so does the other, without getting too close. It is quite a captivating little dance and I wonder if it is some kind of mating ritual, or whether one is preparing to attack the other. Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to find out, as something startles them, and they scuttle off to safety below the decking.

The swift change in temperature over the past couple of days has come as a shock to the system. It seemed to increase almost overnight by a whopping 15 degrees and took many of us by surprise when it comes to knowing what to wear. Moseying about town, some people were in coats and sweaters, while others wore shorts and flip flops.

It has also affected our four-legged friends, who are certainly unprepared. I have noticed them panting more and drinking far more water and we have cut short our dog walks, using routes that offer plenty of shade. It takes dogs a lot longer than us to adjust to changing weather conditions, and even when it seems pretty cool, they can still overheat.

My son Jasper was walking along a local shaded path when he came across a distressed woman with a large Dalmatian. Although she didn’t know Jasper, they had crossed paths regularly on their walks and so she asked him for help. The dog was panting very heavily and kept lying down and refusing to move. Thankfully, they were not far from our house and they managed to coax the dog into walking and once it got here, it promptly flopped down on the lawn while Jasper dashed in for a bowl of water. The owner was clearly upset, and said she only lived 15 minutes away, but was fearful that her dog would not survive that short distance without a drink.

She was right to be concerned, because heat exhaustion can affect a dog very quickly, and can be fatal. A dog pants to cool itself down but finds it hard to regulate its body temperature in warm conditions. If you notice excessive panting, then it’s best to take it into the shade and give it some water as soon as possible. Other signs of heat exhaustion include difficulty breathing, excessive drooling, lethargy and lack of coordination.

If you think your dog has been affected, the immediate priority is to bring its temperature down. Cool tap water sprinkled across its body is best, making sure to avoid the head (a gasping dog can inhale water into its lungs). Avoid excessively cold water though, as this can cause the animal to go into shock. Don’t be tempted to cover it with wet towels either as this can trap heat in and make the situation worse. Keep sprinkling the water over the dog until the panting eases. Try offering it small drinks of water too. If you are at all concerned, take it straight to the vet.

What I didn’t know was that, according to the RSPCA, heat-related illnesses affect 10 times more dogs than leaving them in hot cars, and the charity is running a campaign to raise awareness of the issue.

I’m delighted to report that the Dalmatian made a full recovery and the grateful owner, who happened to own a café, has offered myself and Jasper a free meal to say thank you.

Now that’s what I call a happy ending.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 31st and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 29th May 2024.

Doggy do do Down Under

Sarah Tyson from Australia composts her dog poo in biodegradable bags

Who knew that the debate about dog poo disposal would resonate across the globe? Sarah Tyson got in touch all the way from Hahndorf in South Australia with this interesting idea: “I discovered, entirely by accident, that dog poo composts very well if placed in an open-bottomed bin with an equal volume of vegetable matter. I have two large dogs who generate the poo, and two large teenagers who generate a lot of food and paper scraps. I place both kinds of waste in my 220L compost bin and they disappear very quickly. And no smell! (caveat: I have affixed a mesh base to the open bottom of the bin to deter rodents).”

This message sparked so many questions in my head that I wanted to ask Sarah directly, so I got back in touch with her. I particularly wanted to know how well the rat-deterring mesh worked. Sarah replied that although she has been rat-free for the past five years, it was a case of trial and error before she got it right.

“We did have an issue with rodents after the first six months,” she says. “I tackled this by moving to another spot (it took them a while to learn where the bin went, and I needed the first layers to start decomposing, and not be eaten!).” Sarah tried nailing a circle of wire mesh across the base but it dawned on her that if the mesh was soft enough for her to cut through with her snippers, it was unlikely to be any match to a determined rat’s incisors. But then she had an idea. She cut a circle of mesh matching the circumference of the bin, then laid it on top of a few sheets of chicken wire, which she overlapped in different directions to make the holes smaller. “I chose the chicken wire because it was just there and available, along with some crummy scrunched up wire lying around on my friend’s farm.” It worked, and since then the eco-friendly compost bin has not attracted any rodents. I hope the up-cyclers among you are impressed with Sarah’s ingenuity!

I wondered if, like here, there are thoughtless dog owners in Australia who also toss poo bags into trees. It’s interesting to discover how other countries deal with the same problems as ours, so I hope you’ll forgive me for devoting quite a bit of space to Sarah’s reply.

“The issue with poo bags depends on where you walk,” she says. “In most dog parks some people leave their bags where paths meet but almost always pick them up on the return journey. I have found that people pick mine up too which is fantastic, especially if I am having a bad day. In return I always pick up other people’s bags when I am having a good day!”

As for the open countryside (which Australians call ‘bushland’) she says: “I have never seen bags or unbagged poo left behind in natural bushland.” Applause for the Aussies then!

But stop applauding now, because it is a different story in public parks. “I often see poo on bike and walk tracks in the more formal parks and bikeways and it almost always has been stepped in or ridden through so it’s EVERYWHERE and so, so gross!” She adds, however, that in towns and on suburban footpaths no-one leaves dog mess or bags behind. Resume your applause!

She continues: “There are always poo bag dispensers everywhere and plenty of rubbish bins to put them in. The bins at dog parks are very very full and although they are emptied regularly, they stink and I feel sorry for anyone living within smelling range.” That sounds very familiar to us, doesn’t it! But Sarah has a suggestion: “Perhaps the council should adopt my idea of compost and poo. It would be pretty simple for them to drive past and dump some plant clippings in once a week. Our poo bags recently changed from regular plastic to biodegradable plastic. I think this may sow the thought of composting with other dog owners.”

Are any of you tempted to have a go at composting your own dog poo? Or should we suggest it to our local council? It could just be the answer to a very messy and long-standing problem.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 24th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 22nd May 2024.

Led by the nose

Screenshot — A postcard from 1907 featuring Mr Nosey Parker. We are not sure of the origin of the term ‘Nosey Parker’. (File:Adventures_nosey_parker_rugby.jpg”>Postcard, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Following my column about net curtains, Stephen from North Yorkshire says the reason their popularity declined was down to the fact they are “hideous, especially those that are sort of tapered, don’t fill the window in the middle and have a pattern”.

Don’t mince your words Stephen! Clare from East Yorkshire says: “Like us, a lot of people have transferred from the fussy net curtain to the Venetian blind or plantation shutter. After a burglary many years ago, the police told us that our flimsy (but fashionable in the 80’s!) bamboo blinds were completely see-through and an invitation to burglars to view our stuff and then come and nick it! Since then, we have always had blinds that we close once the lights go on. I like antique lace panels but would never have old fashioned nets now.”

North Yorkshire cyclist and blogger Rob Ainsley isn’t a fan of the trend towards large curtainless windows: “I cringe when I see those showpiece self-build houses on TV whose living rooms have vast uncurtained glass frontages. Once their lights go on in the evening, for passers-by it must be like watching an Alan Ayckbourn play.”

Lynn says in Canada where she lives they use the phrase ‘the nets were twitching’ to refer to someone who is being too inquisitive. I have to confess to being a curtain-twitcher myself on occasion but I wouldn’t call myself a nosey parker, because I only do it when there’s something out of the ordinary happening, rather than to spy on my neighbours.

Talking of nosey parkers, where did that phrase come from? The word ‘nosey’ makes sense, because you can be said to be sticking your nose in where it does not belong. But where does the ‘parker’ bit come in?

I’ve done a fair amount of digging, and the same few explanations are often repeated. A favourite is that it was down to the first Archbishop of Canterbury appointed by Elizabeth 1st after she came to the throne. Matthew Parker, who was Archbishop from 1559 until his death in 1575, had a reputation, so the story goes, for poking around in other people’s business which earned him the nickname Nosey Parker. As fun a tale as that is, most sources accept it is highly unlikely, firstly because the word ‘nosey’ (or ‘nosy’) did not have the same connotation in the 16th century as it does today but simply referred to someone with a large nose. The second reason is because Mr Parker did not have that reputation, as is backed up by my own research, and the third and most compelling reason is that there are no contemporaneous written references suggesting that nickname for him.

I found a number of ‘first written references according to the Oxford English Dictionary’, all with different dates, which is very confusing. The earliest is from an edition of Belgravia Magazine founded by a very successful Victorian novelist, Mary Elizabeth Braddon. The magazine serialised fiction and in the May 1890 edition is the quote: “You’re asking too many questions for me, there’s too much of Mr Nosey Parker about you.” Clearly, this suggests the term was already well-known by the late Victorians.

The other ‘OED firsts’ are all later, including a reference to a series of amusing picture postcards from 1907 onwards entitled ‘The Adventures of Mr Nosey Parker’, a busy-body who keeps getting himself into scrapes.

I found yet another story in a February 1926 edition of the Westerham Herald concerning a 19th century army sergeant called Edward Parker. Apparently he had an unfortunate tumour that grew from the end of his nose and hung down beneath his chin. His soldiers would call him ‘Nosey Parker’, a nickname that persisted until his death in 1888.

What is generally accepted is that the term was not in common usage until the latter part of the 19th century, and initially it was used in the context of a proper name, ‘Mr Nosey Parker’, and then later as a noun, ‘A nosey parker’.

I don’t think I am going to get to the origin of this phrase, but what I do know for certain is that we all have a little bit of Mr Nosey Parker inside us.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 17th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 15th May 2024.

Big Little Lies

I’d like to thank reader Beryl for getting in touch in response to my column about assisted dying. Judging by her long and impassioned letter, I am guessing that Beryl is a fundamental Christian, and one who is genuinely concerned for the destiny of my soul.

According to Beryl, “We were never meant to die! Eternity was to have been right here, right now. But because of Satan’s trickery and our following after him instead of following after God…We’ve shut Him out of our schools and everywhere else (even some churches don’t preach the truth as recorded in the Bible). We also allow the murder of millions of unborn babies.” Beryl believes that even if a human is suffering terribly at the end of their life, God is still by their side and (if they follow God) the good Lord will soon welcome them into Heaven.

By the same token then, if they are a Satan-following non-believer, they will have no need to pack their Big Coat for their final journey, because where they are going it is going to get very, very warm.

It baffles me that a fair number of seemingly intelligent and rational people still believe that God created the earth in a remarkably productive seven days. This is despite the fact that since the old and new testaments were written (between about 600BC and 80AD) our knowledge of science, nature and how the world works has come on a fair bit.

People like Beryl are very hard to debate with because their belief in an all-powerful Christian god is unshakable and any argument you offer against it, no matter how much is based on indisputable scientific fact, is batted away with the explanation that it is God’s work or God’s will. Any bad stuff happening in the world is because, as Beryl, says, “…Satan is, as yet, still ‘prowling the earth to seek whom he may kill and destroy’.” So Beryl’s god bears no responsibility, and all non-believers bring about all this horrible stuff because our faithlessness allows Satan to run riot. Paedophiles and murderers, cancer and fatal accidents, floods and pestilence, war and famine – all would evaporate if only we all truly believed in God. Simple!

It is what is known as blind faith – the belief in something without question. It brings to mind scary people like Donald Trump, who has been proven to lie over and again, but is one of those people who will repeat and repeat the lie with such zeal and conviction that his followers believe it, and then they repeat it, and so it goes on. Having done a bit of research into the psychology of lying (which means I am now an expert) I have discovered there are six categories of liar (thank you to the Newport Institute for the info).

Some might call Trump a pathological liar, that is someone who doesn’t even realise they are lying, and will not admit to it, even if presented with evidence to prove it. They repeat the lie so often that it becomes the truth in their own head. Pathological liars have often suffered some form of trauma in the past or have a mental health disorder and the lies are their coping mechanism.

Then there is the prolific liar, someone who lies for the heck of it and does not feel a jot of guilt about it. Don’t confuse them with the compulsive liar, who is a bit like an addict, in as much as they get an adrenaline rush each time they lie. The habitual liar does so to save their own skin because it is easier and more convenient than telling the truth, and will get them off the hook, at least for now. Then we have the occasional liar, who lies at times to make themselves look or feel good, or to get a result they want (I think we may all have been guilty of that at least once in our lives!). The best liar to be is of course the white liar, who tells a mild porkie in order to protect another one’s feelings. What a good liar the white liar is.

Good enough to get into Heaven?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 10th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 8th May 2024.

Hard as snails

A cluster of garden snails found under a rock in my back yard

A snail needs to consume lots of calcium-rich food as contained in green vegetables like spinach and broccoli to keep its shell strong

I love it when an idea for a column comes from something that I see every day and yet have not paid much attention to before. It was on a dog walk that I spotted a snail on the path on front of me and thought what an amazing pattern and colour its shell was. It struck me that I had no idea how these shells were formed, nor how they gained their colours and patterns.

I do know that snails are the bane of most horticulturists’ lives who will go to many lengths to deter or prevent these stubborn gastropods from ruining their much toiled over gardens. But you see, I am to gardening what Rab C Nesbit is to personal hygiene (willingly neglectful) and therefore I do not see snails as the enemy but instead am rather fascinated by them.

There are upwards of 120 different varieties of snail in this country, and the average British garden is home to several thousand at any given time. You probably know that they are hermaphrodites (i.e. have both male and female reproductive organs), but they need to mate and exchange sperm to have babies, which they do around February and March. They lay their fertilised eggs in dark moist places, often underground, and it takes around 15 to 21 days for them to hatch, depending on the species.

Initially, the baby snailettes, which are born with a wafer-thin flimsy shell, eat the calcium-rich eggshell from which they hatched to see them through the first five days or so. But after that, they have to go in search of more fodder to continue to thrive. As they emerge into the open air they are extremely vulnerable to an array of hungry predators which is the reason their average lifespan is a mere nine to 12 months, even though they can live longer. Their first and urgent mission is to find sources of calcium to grow and nourish their hardening protective shell.

Their distinctive shells are formed thanks to an organ called the ‘mantle’ which secretes layer upon layer of calcium carbonate to build size and thickness. Green vegetables such as broccoli, spinach, cabbage, and lettuce are particular delicacies, as are flowers like hosta, marigold and rudbeckia. The swirly shape is thanks to the way in which the calcium carbonate is secreted, and in almost every case flows in a right-handed, or clockwise, direction, otherwise known as dextral. There is the odd species that has a left-hand swirl which is referred to as ‘sinistral’, but they are pretty rare.

You can use pesticides to control the snail population in your garden, but there is a trend towards more environmentally friendly methods. There are a surprising number of snail-repellent flowers, vegetables and herbs (a quick Google search will tell you what they are) and you can take steps to make your patch an attractive des res for natural predators like birds and hedgehogs. Again, Google is your friend if you want tips on how to draw them in.

Incidentally, if you spot a rock that is surrounded by cracked snail shells, this is likely to be a bird’s anvil stone. Garden birds like the songthrush love eating snails, and cleverly use the rock to bash it and crack open the shell. If a snail is ever separated from its shell, it cannot survive.

Snails love to hide in the daytime in warm, moist places, so another suggestion is to lay planks within your flower borders before nightfall, and then first thing the next day, lift them up and collect any snails you find hiding underneath. They will graze an area of no more than about 20 metes around the spot where they were born and get very disorientated if they are moved further away so if you take them out into the countryside and set them free in a woodland, for example, they won’t be able to find their way back.

Of course, with thousands at a time dwelling in your garden, you might need to make a lot of trips. But perhaps, if you embrace all of these deterrent methods, alongside a healthy dose of persistence, you might just end up with a full crop of lettuce this year.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 3rd and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 1st May 2024.

Drawing a curtain over the issue

Walking my niece’s husky dogs I noticed that not many houses have net curtains any more

A couple of houses that I saw with net curtains on my walk

Following my slightly ranty column referring to dog owners hanging poo bags on trees, I have discovered that there are solutions, thanks to my dog-owning readers who have drawn my attention to a couple of clever inventions.

One is a poop bag carrier that clips on to your dog lead, and you attach your full bags to it until you pass a bin or get back home. This means that you still have both hands free as you continue your walk. The reader said: “It’s not difficult or messy, so why doesn’t everyone do it?”

Another reader uses a compact neoprene pouch which you can clip on to your back pack or belt loop. You put the tied-up poo bag inside and zip it up to avoid unpleasant odours stalking you on the rest of your ramble. It also eliminates the yucky sensation of a full bag swinging from side to side as you walk. Although it is relatively expensive, it is fully washable and so can be used again and again.

With these kinds of solutions, is there any excuse for not cleaning up after your dog? I would genuinely like to hear the argument for hanging poo bags on trees because it is my duty, as a responsible writer, to understand every side of a story. Especially when you have no leg to stand on.

On the subject of dogs (which has been a fruitful topic of late!) I have been house-sitting for my niece, looking after her two gorgeous husky dogs while she is on her honeymoon. On one of our walks I couldn’t help but notice how few houses have net curtains.

The trusty net curtain used to be present in most houses because we wanted to nosey at what our neighbours were getting up to outside, without those neighbours noseying at what we were getting up to inside. We also wanted to prevent the ne’er-do-wells from seeing our immensely valuable possessions in case they were tempted to nick them.

Nets began to be seen in the 17th century after sheet glass replaced small pieces of glass set within lead frames. Initially, these large pieces were expensive to produce so were available only to the rich who kept them for their best rooms. To preserve privacy while at the same time allowing the light in, net curtains were initially made of fine cotton and silk and great skill was needed to produce delicate and intricate patterns. The modern glass industry took off after a reduction in tax in the mid-19th century and the cost of glass plummeted. Soon, sheet glass became available to the less wealthy and was being seen in smaller houses. Still, it was only after man-made fabrics like nylon and polyester emerged after World War II that we began to see mass-produced net curtains. Of course, once we commoners got involved, nets stopped being posh and instead became associated with nosey parkers covertly watching what other people were doing, and the age of the ‘curtain-twitcher’ was born.

The net curtain is considered a decidedly English eccentricity by our continental friends. Having been married to a Dutchman, I know that in the Netherlands, any form of curtain across your window is seen as dodgy, as if you are trying to hide something shameful. Houses have huge living room windows with just a few plants to screen the internal goings-on from the outside world.

I do still love a curtain, though, and will not leave them open at night for anyone to peer in. But I have moved on from net curtains, as it seems have most people these days. I did see a few on my walk, but thanks to my acute detective instincts I deduced that they were in homes belonging to our more mature residents.

So why is that? Are we less worried now about people seeing in through our windows? In a world where we share the smallest details of our personal lives online, maybe we don’t feel the need for such privacy in our own homes anymore? Or is it that more CCTV cameras and sophisticated security systems mean we are less afraid of our personal possessions being on display?

What do you think dear reader?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 26th April and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 24th April 2024.

Dogged by Trouble

One of the holes dug up by the naughty dogs

Many of us self-employed writers need other sources of income thanks to the fact that writing alone does not cover all our living expenses. Indeed when my dad decided to retire to concentrate on writing full time, he only felt confident doing it because, after 30 years in the force, he would benefit from a police pension.

I make sure I have a number of strings to my bow too. My children used to plead with me to get a dog, and I held out for years, until I eventually (sort of) caved in, but in a way that suits us all. Instead of owning our own dog, we now look after other people’s. But after doing it for the past 10 years, I have a question: Do any of you feel that your pets punish if you go away? I have heard several owners say such things, that their dogs or cats go into sulks, or misbehave as a way of getting their own back for leaving them.

I was recently house-sitting with two young Hungarian Vizslas. These beautiful chestnut-red hounds are traditionally gun dogs and can make excellent family pets. They’re really intelligent and affectionate, but are bursting with energy, a bit like the canine versions of Tigger.

These particular dogs were were not allowed into the smarter rooms in the house, nor upstairs, and spent most of their time in the large open-plan kitchen/living room. Halfway through the stay, though, I had to go away for one night, so someone else cared for them. The morning after getting back, I was jolted from a deep sleep by a tremendous thundering noise. Springing awake, I sat up to see the bedroom door fling open and the two hounds bounding towards me. They leapt up and crash landed on top of me.

Not only had they managed to open the kitchen door (which they had never done before), but they had galloped up the stairs to find me, something that was absolutely forbidden. I reasoned it must be because I’d slept in and they were starving. But when I checked the time, it was still only 7.30am, half an hour before their breakfast time. They had clearly decided I needed an alarm call!

That was just the start of the punishment. The two normally well-behaved dogs were little blighters the whole day long. I let them out into the garden to play, only for them to come back inside a few minutes later with their noses and paws covered in mud. When I went out to investigate, I was horrified to find they’d dug a great big hole in the flowerbed outside the back door. Not only that, but they had sprayed mud all over the patio, and then paddled it indoors.

I filled the hole, and cleaned the patio and kitchen floor, satisfied that the house-proud homeowners would not be able to tell what had happened. By the time I had done that, I turned round to see two more huge holes had appeared at the other end of the garden, and some newly planted flowers had been uprooted and catapulted across the lawn.

I swore inwardly, then took my shovel and filled the new holes as best I could, trying to salvage whatever flowers were not completely destroyed.

But it didn’t end there. Every time my back was turned, more holes appeared in the lawn and flowerbeds. I resorted to staying outside whenever they were outside, assuming they wouldn’t dare do it while I was in the vicinity. I was checking emails on my tablet, and then looked up to see they’d gone back to the same spots and dug up the flowers again. In silence! How did they do that without me hearing a thing when I was only a few feet away? Cunning little devils.

In the end, I gave up filling in the holes, and resorted to placing garden tubs and furniture in the spots to try to divert them away. It seemed to work, and for the rest of the stay, the dogs behaved mostly very well. I’m convinced they had sentenced me to one day of punishment for the crime of going away.

It makes me wonder, do your dogs ever punish you?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 19th April and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 17th April 2024.

What say you readers?

Janet Pearce believes assisted dying would have given her husband Mike a less painful and traumatic death

I have had some responses following the column that I wrote about the controversial subject of assisted dying.

Janet Pearce, who was featured in my earlier column about unmarried mothers, wrote to me to say: “As a retired nurse who has witnessed many deaths in different settings and from different causes, yes people should have the right to choose the way they want to die. The important approach is honesty…My husband died in pain and being given analgesia by intramuscular injections…He refused the injections because he could not bear the extra pain…He continually asked the doctor to euthanise him, but of course that was not allowed. We have the technology, it is 2024, let’s sort it out!”

That must have been such a difficult time for Janet, and even more so for her poor husband Mike, who was not given any choice except to continue to suffer in agony until he passed away. Why do people have to endure that kind of trauma when the end is close? We have the capacity to make it more peaceful and less harrowing for both the patient and the loved ones who have to stand helplessly by.

Regular reader Clare Proctor said: “It’s an emotive subject and you have handled it well. I absolutely agree with Esther Rantzen – and you. We are accused of being barbaric if we allow animals to suffer and die in agony, but apparently that is exactly what we should do to our beloved humans. Where assisted dying is already legal, statistics show that numbers are not high and there is no proof of the system being abused. Religious objections are often quoted. Religious belief is and should always be a personal choice and not inflicted upon those of us who do not believe. The only thing any of us can really claim as our own is our body, and we should be able to say how we want to meet our end…governments should not be making that decision for anyone.”

Clare’s words about religion and personal choice brought to mind a message I received recently from one reader who was not happy with some of the wording in my column concerning the 18th century Methodist preacher Joseph Pilmoor, who was born out of wedlock. It was a very long message from a born-again Christian which I have had to edit down due to lack of space.

It reads: “Wesley said: ‘Do no harm, do good and love God’. These are not a means to salvation but the fruit of it. Ephesians 2 v 10 says: ‘For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.’ ”

It continues: “But this is addressed to believers, people who are already saved…Not all will be saved however as not all will accept His free gift of salvation. It is not just ‘fallen’ women who need to be saved – you mention the word ‘converted’ which conveys a wrong understanding. Everyone needs the salvation which God offers through Jesus…Jesus said that you must be born again to enter the kingdom of heaven (John 3 v 3). This means that the Holy Spirit dwells in you and begins to work out the fruit of the Holy Spirit in your life. See Galatians 5 v 22-23: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”

Is the reader here implying that lack of ‘self-control’ is why we get babies born out of wedlock? She adds, quoting my column: “I truly doubt that the attitude was that it was ‘all the woman’s fault and that many prayers were said to help her tighten up her loose morals’ and that ‘they ever felt the need to pray for the man involved…’. As born-again believers, this is never the attitude that Christians take or would have taken because we know that: (Romans 3’23) ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ “

She does say a lot more in the hope of educating me and encouraging me down the path to ‘salvation’, and ends with: “I hope this helps clarify some misconceptions in your article.”

Well, over to you dear readers. Does it?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 12th April and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 10rd April 2024.

To bag or not to bag?

They may look adorable, but what dogs leave behind is creating a big problem!

I saw a sign hanging in a wooded area that read: ‘As you are so confident in the biodegradability of your used dog poo bag, please take it home to your own garden and hang it in your own tree. Thank you. From the wildlife.’

On the same day I had a request from a friend to discuss what is clearly a continuing and divisive problem, that of abandoned dog mess around popular walking routes. I did write about this topic some time ago, but clearly some dog owners are still upsetting others with their thoughtless actions. It is worth pointing out that many of the people who are upset are dog owners themselves, tired of being tarred with the same brush as the thoughtless and ignorant ones.

Am I alone in remembering that, as a child in the 1970s, it was my responsibility to watch out for doggy business on footpaths? If I trod in it, I was my fault for not paying attention to where I was putting my feet. The owner was not expected to pick it up, nor were they blamed for the fact that their pet decided to go to the toilet on the path. Dogs would be dogs.

Times changed once someone invented a special bag which you could use to pick up the poo, and then later, another invented dedicated bins in which to place them. Thankfully over time it became socially unacceptable to not pick up Fido’s dirty deposits.

But since then of course, we have become more aware of how polluting plastic bags are and how much damage they do to our water and land-dwelling wildlife, and to the habitats in which they dwell. As a result of this never-ending problem, a clever person then invented the biodegradable poo bag, which seemed to be the answer to all our problems. The guilt of sealing it inside a bag evaporated.

If only. As we all know, a solution to one problem usually creates another. The newish problem is that some dippy dog owners among us now dispose of their bulging bags by either tossing them into bushes or hanging them on trees. They think that they do no harm because the bag will degrade over time. Little matter to them that they take weeks or even months to do so. What an utterly selfish approach that is.

I don’t know about you, but on my walks, I like to admire the flora and fauna as nature intended, and not as a doggy-doo-doo dumping ground. Who on earth enjoys seeing a smelly bag dangling from a hawthorn like a bauble on Shrek’s Christmas tree? However annoying it is that your pooch chooses to perform early on your walk miles from a suitable bin, you chose to have a dog, so you still have to deal with it considerately. Lobbing it into the bushes, even in a biodegradable bag, is not acceptable. Some people declare that they plan to collect it on the return journey. Even if that is the case, it still means that A: other people have to walk past it. B: You might forget it. And C: Judging by how many I see abandoned, that’s a lie. It is more likely that you can’t be bothered to carry it.

There are occasions, though, where the ‘stick and flick’ method might be acceptable, and even preferable, to using bags. In areas where there is dense undergrowth, you are encouraged to use a stick to flick it away, out of sight where no-one is likely to step on it. That way it will happily fertilise the ground and erases the need to bag it and carry it. However, a quick look at the Forestry England and National Trust websites shows that their policies are still to bag it and either bin it or take it home. The reasoning is that certain livestock and animals can be poisoned through eating dog faeces and ingesting plastic, even if it is biodegradable.

So what is the answer? More bins around country car parks and walks, and signage clearly illustrating the preferred methods and locations for disposal would help. But I have a feeling this is a debate that will run and run.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 5th April and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 3rd April 2024.

A house with no name

Clare’s house has been called Ivy House Farm for more than 200 years, even though the farm is long gone

Ivy House Farm back in the 1940s when it was still in operation.

I had some interesting comments about house names following my column that mentioned the fact that Old Pond House in Newton-on-Rawcliffe had no name until reader Paul Ireson bought it in the mid-1980s. He’d wanted to call it Pond House (the village pond lay not far from their front window) but a neighbouring house had already used that name, hence they called it ‘Old Pond House’.

Reader Andy Long says that when he moved into his house in the late 1990s, although it had a number, there was also a name on the gate. “The gate was rotten so was removed and the name was never replaced or used. Maybe we thought a house name was too posh for us!” Andy isn’t completely sure he’s right but thinks the name was ‘Ingleside’. “The Gaelic origin or link to an open fire possibly went over our heads…or the pending birth of our first child seemed more important!”

And Lynn Catena says her sister’s first house was called Brae Side, but as it also had a number, they never used it. You often see houses on numbered streets that also have their own name, but it used to be seen as rather pretentious, the point being that you don’t need a name if your house already has a number. If such a house does have a name, would you use it when telling someone your address? And if you choose to name a house that already has a number, does it ever become recognised by Royal Mail? Can you ditch your house number altogether and change it to a name?

I grew up in a North Yorkshire village where most of the houses, including ours, had names rather than street numbers. When I was a teenager, we moved to a new house in the same village, and Mum and Dad were able to choose what to call it. They romantically named it after a wood where they would go for walks before they were married. Claire Dunstan-Elliott, who originates from Yorkshire, has spent many years living and working in Wales. She says: “I’ve named every house I’ve owned after the previous place I lived which has worked out quite well.” But she found visiting some small Welsh villages for work quite taxing: “There are no street names, no house numbers, and every house in the village is just named – it is really hard work, especially when they are in Welsh!” Imagine how hard it must be for a new postman or postwoman in these small country villages. Let’s hope they get paid per hour and not per round!

Most people who are going to name a house often, like my parents, have some meaningful reason for the one they choose. Judging by the most popular house names in the UK, though, you can tell that most go with far more practical and obvious choices. At the top of the list is Rose Cottage, and close behind are Orchard House, The Coach House, The Cottage, The Bungalow, The Lodge, The Barn, The Stables, The Gables and The Willows. Hillside and Hillcrest are also up there as are Sunnyside, Woodlands and Meadow View.

Clare Proctor says naming can be a weighty responsibility. “We were hoping to buy a lovely house called Corner Cottage (old house; newish name). I hated the name and was going to change it, but to what? For the few months we were in the running we debated new names. It was worse than trying to choose a baby’s name, or even worse, a pet’s name!” Clare and her husband eventually bought a house called Ivy House Farm, but the farm had long gone, so they pondered changing it, but again, couldn’t think of a suitable moniker. “We eventually decided that as it had held the name for nearly 200 years it was not for us to change it. I just tell people it’s a retired farmhouse!”

Paul Ireson, who lives in Rosedale and whose house-naming sparked this column, might be interested to know that Clare once ran a hotel there: “We used to own the White Horse Farm Hotel. It also was not a farm, but the previous owners bought some sheep and chickens and thought the name would give it a more rustic appeal!”

Have you ever named a house, and if so, what name did you choose and why?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 29th March and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 22nd March 2024.