I have recently joined the Hampshire Woodturners Association (HWA).

One of the machines that I inherited from my Dad was a wood turning lathe and, not having done any wood turning since my mid teens at school, I decided that I would make use of the lathe and do some turning.  Happily, a retired patient of mine, who I have known for many years, is a very keen and accomplished amateur wood turner.  Richard has taken me under his wing, keen to get me started with wood turning, and we have done a few projects together, most notably a housing for the brass porthole in my office door.

At a recent HWA meeting, I won a couple of beech ‘blanks’ in the raffle and, having bought some tool sharpening tools, dust extraction and other protective gear, I have now turned them up into a couple of bowls. Aficionados will spot not only the progression of technique/?ability from my first solo bowl to the second but will no doubt, have some useful criticism to make.  Anyhow, I am pleased with my efforts, and glad to have started this new craft and skill.  It feels like another step in moving forward … moving on.  I must say, that when I am at the wood lathe, making shavings and sawdust, everything else goes out of my mind … it’s really therapeutic.

This first, a highly figured, bowl, is turned from spalted beech, where fungus has infiltrated the grain – https://www.thewoodplace.com/wood-types/spalted-beech.

The second bowl, is also beech, but this one not spalted.

Patience please … it’s too early for commissions!  Anyway, I hope you like the attached photos.

Tomorrow is the November HWA monthly meeting, and I will take these first two solo efforts, to see what the experts think, and to learn what I can do to improve.

Yesterday, the 1^st of November, was a significant date, and its being so came to mind while we were out for a meal with friends, talking about my future plans and how long I had left in the Practice.

Sylvia has been keeping an eye on the number of months, then weeks, and now working days that are left before my upcoming retirement, but when people ask me if I am counting the days, my reply is along these lines: I remember when, as I child, the more I looked forward to Christmas, the longer it seemed to take to arrive; so, no, I am not counting the days!

Time is indeed a funny thing.  When we are looking forward to some future event, time seems to slow, but when we are dreading an event, time speeds up.  When work is busy, time rushes by; when work is (rarely) quiet, or the time to switch the phones to the out-of-hours service is drawing near, then time drags oh so slow.

As we get older, time seems to speed up. ‘Hasn’t this year gone quickly?’ we say.   Andy Rooney, the American radio and TV writer and broadcaster, once said: “I’ve learned that life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.”

We mark time in many ways, and one of these is the taking note of anniversaries.  We gather more and more of these through our lives, as additions to the family increase the number of birthdays and wedding anniversaries; and the loss of loved ones add anniversaries of their death to those of their birth.  From personal, family and professional experience, I have seen how, following the death of a close loved one, the first anniversary of their birthday, their death, the first Christmas, are especially poignant, though these dates will be marked by the bereaved for many, many years.  Some happy anniversaries, particularly birthdays and wedding anniversaries are somehow increased in their importance by reaching a significant number – so a 50^th wedding anniversary is inordinately more notable than the 49^th!  Thus, when Haslar Immigration Removal Centre closed in 2015, I felt cheated by it closing just nine months before I would have celebrated 25 years of service there.

Yesterday, was the 28^thanniversary of my joining the Practice, and snippets of memory of those earliest days came back to me.  Of being introduced to patients by the Senior Partner … of finding my feet in a new job … of the welcome and kindness I received … of people telling me I looked far too young!  I had hoped and planned to reach 30 years – a nice round number – but staying on to reach that arbitrary figure is not a realistic proposition and, surely, 28 years of work is not devalued by being two short of thirty.  Rather, I count myself lucky to have enjoyed so much of my career, to have worked with some really super people, and to have looked after and got to know my patients for such a long period of time.  Yes, I fully agree with one of the superb aphorisms in Margaret McCartney’s recent ‘A Summary of four and a half years of columns in one column’ https://www.bmj.com/content/362/bmj.k3745 “Medicine is an absolutely brilliant job, and having long term relationships with patients and families is one of the most joyous and fulfilling aspects of work.”