The Lost Bus

 

Now people that know me, will understand that I love a good disaster movie. Most of my teenage years were dominated by burning skyscrapers, earthquakes and 747’s in trouble. 

Hell, when I started my film degree, I even wrote an assignment on the role of women in 1970 disaster movies ( I got an A btw) 

So I was excited to see Paul Greengrass’ new disaster flick The Lost Bus today. 

Based on the true story of the 2018 Paradise Wild Fire, we follow an overwhelmed fire department as they battle a once in a lifetime forrest fire in rural California . Caught up in the drama is a somewhat dejected and troubled school bus driver Kevin McKay ( Michael McConaughey) and a prim teacher Mary Ludwig ( America Ferrera) who are suddenly responsible for the safety of 22 small children 

Their journey to safety is an epic and exciting ride, with all of Greengrass’ directorial flourishes on show but as small children in peril on a typically American yellow school bus, is such a stereotype in action ,movies ( Godzilla, Superman, Fabulous Four, Independence Day  etc etc etc) much of the drama is cushioned by the knowledge that all will be well 

Much more chilling, was an early scene where a small convoy of survivors supervised by a lone fireman are trapped by the fire. They only just escape , by throwing themselves into a small lake as the roaring fire flows over them, and the sequence is stunningly shot and terrifyingly acted. 

McConaughey ( not an actor I like) is very impressive here and I also liked Ashlee Atkinson’s performance as his tough talking and acting boss Ruby. 

A good watch

The Child Inside

 I’m such a child sometimes

I don’t apologise for it 

Yesterday I bought a £3.00 plastic light up ghost from Sainsbury’s 

Useless

But cute

Eyes and a beach conversation

 Bloody awful injection in my eye yesterday and repeat appointment this afternoon.

I’m eye phobic and only coping because a support worker at the eye hospital was so sweet….

Go to your happy place ( she told me )

“ I can’t “ I told her

“ well go to mine” …she said

“where’s that?” I asked clutching at straws

“Greggs * “ she said with a smile ….

I loved her

    *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greggs

I had a text from a dear friend this morning. It was the dreaded I have Cancer message. I didn’t ring back immediately, these type on conversations need preparation and calm. So I took the Welsh to McDonalds and bought them a cheesy flatbread and myself a large coffee and a porridge. 

I walked the dogs on the beach and we returned to Bluebell where I rang my friend. 

I listened and heard and I told my friend that I loved them as the Welsh curled up into balls to sleep and the sea breeze slipped through the open windows.

Fire – Mädchenchor Hamburg

This is an extraordinary piece of singing. Not the lisping choir but a German one.

I’m in the waiting room at the eye hospital ( first visit of two)

Another day another procedure.  

( Ive had to turn the volume down for this one) 

And the vagaries of normal life ebb and flow

As they have a habit of doing

When I got home yesterday a package awaited me on the kitchen wall

A card and a gift of jam from Lywena ( Widow to Ralph the Gentleman Farmer)

Who lives down the lane and across the Felin Valley

It’s for my counselling certificate, I start seeing clients proper next week! 

Old Friends

 Thirty six years have flown by, and between us we’ve had four husbands, seven children, lots of laughs and quite a few too many tears. In our twenties, we bonded as young staff nurses ( and occupational therapist) and supported each other through the adventures of young adulthood. Tracey still looks like Sophia Loren and wears a smile that can almost make you cry with its warmth. Ally remains the quirky one, with a sharp brain and wit to match and I felt at home , as I always did, listening to them banter and laugh about the last thirty years of news. 

For once, a long time ago, I was that quiet shy man. The one who had never been to the Opera. The one that hadn’t had a relationship that was fraught and adult and interesting. I soaked up their energy like a sponge and I grew as a person and as a professional in 1980s York that was filled with music, and drink, and socialising and laughter, and of friendships that mattered.

We missed Betty’s, a suicide on the train line had made me unfortunately late, ( how apt it was a probably a mental health problem which affected our reunion) but this morning I took myself off to Betty’s alone and sat in the window with my tea and fat rascal before getting the train home

York a thought from 2009

Written winter 2009


“I qualified as a RMN (Registered Psychiatric Nurse) in 1986. None of our group of 8 students planned to staff in our training hospital in Chester, so it seemed perfectly reasonable to move to a city with similar sensibilities!.I was lucky to get a job in York, I had no idea of what to expect, or indeed what my role would be, I just went for the interview as all the others did and got the job! My placement was at the prestigious Bootham Park Hospital (below), which was the showcase for the Health authority at the time. The hospital was small, comprising of only 6 wards as I recall, and I secured a job on ward 1 which was an acute admission ward for around 18 general patients and up to 6 mother and babies.
I was given fairly basic accommodation at the nurses residence at Clifton Hospital which was the old asylum two miles away.I was 24, but a young and gauche 24, so a new job in a new city,was pretty tough for me at first....but on reflection I had a blast of a time!
My allocation to the nurses home gave me contact with a huge group of new starters! 20 or so student nurses, all nervous of the challenges ahead provided me with a ready made group of friends and that coupled with a young and bright set of work colleagues which were also "on tap", meant that the 2 years I was a staff nurse was one big social experience!.


In York I had a steady stream of girlfriends (Gay realisation was sadly yet to dawn!!!), an introduction to other cultures and races (which never happened in Wales or indeed the very conservative Chester) and intellectual stimulation by open minded bright people. It was also where I started my Love affair with Yorkshire and the straight talking Yorkshire people, with their wonderful flat, warm way of talking and deadpan sense of humour.
On reflection I loved my time there and I learnt so much. Professionally, the ward was run sympathetically and with great thought. The ward manager (an obese jolly ex community nurse--who incidentally had been run over by her own car months before I started and therefore was transferred to the inpatient facility!) had, as I recall a big heart and a knack of developing her staff with time and care,On reflection I blossomed under her guidance.
I also teamed up with another staff nurse called Tracy Birkin ( I am on a memory roll now!!! ) who provided me with big sister-ish support. Fearless and insightful, she became my professional hero, and with a personality as big as a bus, helped me develop from shy Welsh geek into a more sociable more rounded friend. (she was also famous at being able to run 1000 yards in high heels to catch any absconding patient before they reached the hospital gates!)
So this morning I have had a memory "romp" about the people I used to know in that faraway part of my life....I wonder where they are now....Tracey married and moved to Goole I think, but the others such as Linda Mapplebeck, Cathy Audin (who looked like Dennis the menace) Sue Kirton, Mandy Moore, Jim Cooper, David Griffith, Pete Curry, Barry Ford,Boy next door-Martin Kirby ( who, on reflection I secretly fancied ) have all disappeared from view when I moved to Sheffield to start life in "spinal injuries "....
Two friends I do keep in touch with, Cheryl and Gill still write occasionally in Christmas cards and in brief e mails......I am not sad......on reflection........like I said.,......York was a blast!”

Today’s thought

And it’s interesting that I am now returning to York to catch up with the aforementioned

Tracy. Indeed several of the people I’ve mentioned have returned to my world in some way or another, like so many people do when you need them .

Hey ho

Betty’s

 

I am meeting Tracy in York tomorrow afternoon. 

Like Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard we have arranged to meet outside Betty’s Tearooms at 5 pm, and I’ve arranged for us to have high tea in the Belmont Room .

Betty’s was first opened in 1937 and is a must for anyone visiting the city.

When I lived in York, Betty’s was a go to for the occasional treat away from hard psychiatric nurse shifts

Locals never braved the queues at peak times only turning up early in the day to snatch a table for one

I was 24, and even then I fell in love with its art deco lines and waitresses with frilly hats

I’m on the way to being 64 and I’m meeting Tracy after a break of thirty six years

How lovely

A Thank You

 It was a particularly gruelling night at work last night and I was somewhat jaded when I returned home.

A message from Trendy Carol’s Husband lifted my mood.

It simply said 

“ I’ll pick the dogs up at 10.30” 

And so safe in the thought they would be looked after whilst I slept, I walked and fed them, then went to bed, for a proper sleep. 

Trendy Carol’s hubby I will call Owain

Without Owain, I couldn’t have kept my dogs for as long as I have.

From the first time that I had to return to work after retiring, he jumped into the breech and took care of them when I needed him to. 

This weekend I’m popping up to York to see an old friend and Owain will be there treating the dogs as if they were his own.

And he refuses any payment, just allowing me to take him to appointments and picking up pharmacy and the like.

The world runs on kindnesses like his

And I thank him for it