tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203038122024-03-19T13:39:14.770+00:00Going Gently"I'll admit I may have seen better days,
but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail,
"(Margo Channing)John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comBlogger9101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-45735342482385619542024-03-19T12:23:00.001+00:002024-03-19T12:23:54.732+00:00Running Dogs<div style="text-align: left;"> Skills assessment today.</div><div style="text-align: left;">An important day, because if we fail this we’re off the course.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our counselling scenario is videoed and assessed by our tutor and a second marker. If we pass then I have to reassess and critique the video in its entirety. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I think it went ok, but you can never be sure, and the criteria for passing is justifiably stringent.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I was very aware that at one point my post covid cough got the better of me and I barked out one so forcefully that I farted in unison.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Does one acknowledge ones own farts in a counselling situation ? </div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m my case I did not ! Hey ho</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So back to painting, the kitchen . </div><div style="text-align: left;">My latest piece of art is <i>Eniko Eged ‘ Running Dogs </i>which is away getting framed </div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s lovely</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknZRgTmkzYB72mg7zx33MjAxL1JkVu0ChyphenhyphenAOdWeFGVDGge0armcOJlwHFdmS2NnezWw-zBtvexKJZh9GopryPrLJbtIhGARzw3GWqjyL5wGAxGBq_F2axZGFGpRisYQrih3SHpPMcgv6Wut-Yf4rTPyk20uHO9NdAGpCCd6Ln7JNNFSVD7Jx5/s900/0C76F218-D431-4D1F-9D87-E26EA98EA344.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknZRgTmkzYB72mg7zx33MjAxL1JkVu0ChyphenhyphenAOdWeFGVDGge0armcOJlwHFdmS2NnezWw-zBtvexKJZh9GopryPrLJbtIhGARzw3GWqjyL5wGAxGBq_F2axZGFGpRisYQrih3SHpPMcgv6Wut-Yf4rTPyk20uHO9NdAGpCCd6Ln7JNNFSVD7Jx5/s320/0C76F218-D431-4D1F-9D87-E26EA98EA344.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-6591880486527932662024-03-18T13:25:00.000+00:002024-03-18T13:25:58.120+00:00Burleigh <div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hmbinYc-UTY6dhgxMTgYpZzJ28oF-lXaXSJ-S_i0gV3UZt6FEB3RxkPJ8atqfZnSLZArau4jJDgEU_KnGhZ4EYRbM8lpbdS45k_Kds3nxhH8uVNrf4U7ULPDxmX-GwUH45je6LSkwytThx2NDKtXGbaP4V61re2YyW8b7KlwCJZvjacshy-1/s3264/05C8203F-F592-48C2-94E9-3DE1C5F7BAA3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hmbinYc-UTY6dhgxMTgYpZzJ28oF-lXaXSJ-S_i0gV3UZt6FEB3RxkPJ8atqfZnSLZArau4jJDgEU_KnGhZ4EYRbM8lpbdS45k_Kds3nxhH8uVNrf4U7ULPDxmX-GwUH45je6LSkwytThx2NDKtXGbaP4V61re2YyW8b7KlwCJZvjacshy-1/w400-h300/05C8203F-F592-48C2-94E9-3DE1C5F7BAA3.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Washing crockery is mindful, especially when it’s hand painted <i>Burleigh Ware </i>where you can see beautiful plants and flowers, designed with a stroke of a brush. My favourite pieces were gifts from my sisters and they are rare finds indeed, being potties designed to be sat on. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The cheeseboard in the front was designed and made by my sister Janet and that is my favourite piece of pottery in the kitchen.</div><div style="text-align: left;">There is something very pleasing when these pieces sing in the sunlight.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My cottage kitchen is quirky for It has three windows. Two look back into the back garden and a small one faces the lane. Most people that walk the lane are locals so they respect my privacy more than intermittent walkers who I often catch peeking through the window with idle curiosity. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Before cleaning the paintwork I opened up the widow wide, letting the noises of the Churchyard spill into the cottage. From the open window I can see the 13th Century Prayer Cross as well as my laburnum sapling which remains robust and healthy and optimistic .</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJhsHrKicufKgpFy2cB1hLFZLZZ3uq9jZuyCb6-0J0YRBbr46JIomP3sidI4Oy_PFLt39tswwcoH1g-sviQiZg3ZJtAfmXOPFIYC5HhhzstswMMGRohFAfRIzkjEdMJHBRi7iSJBYdVy-v9Vv65gps-p4Su6872dUxjlEvuYQgzjYsYWmaK4l/s3264/323ED500-7C58-4D1B-9354-0085D8B8A5C1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJhsHrKicufKgpFy2cB1hLFZLZZ3uq9jZuyCb6-0J0YRBbr46JIomP3sidI4Oy_PFLt39tswwcoH1g-sviQiZg3ZJtAfmXOPFIYC5HhhzstswMMGRohFAfRIzkjEdMJHBRi7iSJBYdVy-v9Vv65gps-p4Su6872dUxjlEvuYQgzjYsYWmaK4l/w400-h300/323ED500-7C58-4D1B-9354-0085D8B8A5C1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-34104984018938437342024-03-17T12:22:00.001+00:002024-03-17T12:22:10.230+00:00Bats In A Dark Lane.<div style="text-align: left;"> When you are part of a group where one of the members is suddenly poorly <i>WhatsApp </i>can be a godsend. Like bats in a dark lane, messages flit through the night, keeping you updated and worried. And early this morning I found out that a dear colleague and friend Ann from the hospice had died after a short illness. </div><div style="text-align: left;">We started together a few years ago under similar life challenges of a sudden marital separation and a needy to earn some money. And from day one she proved herself to be a hardworking support worker who would always go that extra mile for her patients and for you, the trained nurse she was allocated to.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I shall miss her as will so many others I know. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s a sad end, to a sad week, so I’m grateful for my friend Colin who messaged me with the offer of lunch out today. We are meeting at the <i>Glasfryn in Mold ,</i>which is a hearty gastropub perched above my beloved <i>Theatr Clwyd </i>and I intend to eat something with mash and gravy .</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This morning I removed nails from the art wall and filled in the holes then sanded and washed the walls in readiness for paining tomorrow.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve also carefully washed by <i>Burleigh Ware </i>crockery which sits on the top of the kitchen cabinets and put them carefully away </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I will leave you with the talented Mr Wu, whose house and garden renovation is almost at an end </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwjyMQxRGtl1QtZp1_eMR5mF6dNjjBR7uGK-u4ESeWwO_JTFsysrUXBF7Y4qLDJmR79QcBmebc6bDQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-3926741335735784582024-03-16T16:36:00.004+00:002024-03-16T19:31:18.286+00:00Pick Your Battles<div style="text-align: left;"> <i>“Can’t you see I’m disabled ?”</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">The shouted comment was like waving a red flag to a bull, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have spent most of my adult life working with “disabled” people</div><div style="text-align: left;">and I absolutely hate when disabled people use their disability as an answer to everything</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“There’s nothing wrong with your eyes” </i>I countered, a reply that sent the man puce</div><div style="text-align: left;">Perhaps you need some context here</div><div style="text-align: left;">The car park at Prestatyn beach. I am parked in a regular parking spot near the promenade with the doors open, waiting for a dithering <i>Mary </i>to jump into <i>Bluebell </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Roger </i>was staring out to sea looking somewhat gormless</div><div style="text-align: left;">The man in the large disabled cart was making a slow wide turn over several empty spaces in order to return to his wife, daughter and their Labrador. He had been barking brusque orders at his family for ten minutes or so, which had irritated me, as I had followed him up the Prom back to the car park. </div><div style="text-align: left;">He came so close to <i>Roger, </i>that the poor sod jumped and whimpered ( he is a wuss) but my paternal juices started flowing hence the sharp( but not unfair) </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“ Watch where you’re going!” </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>The</i> rest you already know, except for the hysterical turn the man then took.</div><div style="text-align: left;">With his voice going up at least two octaves he instructed his wife to take <i>Bluebell’s </i>registration number</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“ Get it on your phone Jean !” </i>He yelled making another pass</div><div style="text-align: left;">I felt that I had turned over my wagon and the Indians were circling </div><div style="text-align: left;">But by the look of things <i>Jean </i>didn’t look too bothered.</div><div style="text-align: left;">He kept shouting about discrimination, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I told him for the last time to watch where he was going, which I didn’t need to</div><div style="text-align: left;">And so it continued</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now the man had brand new trainers on so <i>cheap Shoes </i>would have been inappropriate comment so would have been my usual and usually effective <i>Jog On </i>put down , so I resorted to </div><div style="text-align: left;">“ <i>knock Yourself Out” </i>before getting <i>Roger </i>in.</div><div style="text-align: left;">He was still swearing and circling when I drove off , so didn’t notice when the world weary Jean mouthed the word “ <i>Sorry” </i>as I passed her.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ps <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNN2whQCd2VokddMfuCNDKarFbkstkAdpVxZbi3my41lQeFvWYM2dbD1y0BIBUtWDNjKICzXc7BuMhhbJDDDNmTTZxFBae7qSfTrcpfaD34GJDATjwXyT0kWayDq6C9A-SAQYhjLDngOlZQNzWgxcTmZd6E6PMZnf1dROw1qeKcTUWuPXMp_Y/s2048/5361546E-58D6-45FB-983B-98F378A51A9F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNN2whQCd2VokddMfuCNDKarFbkstkAdpVxZbi3my41lQeFvWYM2dbD1y0BIBUtWDNjKICzXc7BuMhhbJDDDNmTTZxFBae7qSfTrcpfaD34GJDATjwXyT0kWayDq6C9A-SAQYhjLDngOlZQNzWgxcTmZd6E6PMZnf1dROw1qeKcTUWuPXMp_Y/w400-h180/5361546E-58D6-45FB-983B-98F378A51A9F.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The village Male voiced choir is in Swansea today , singing centre stage before the six nations Rugby match between Wales and Italy. </div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com86tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-47017179856195250652024-03-15T14:42:00.004+00:002024-03-15T14:42:49.298+00:00 A Whale In The Sink <div style="text-align: left;"> Today, all I’ve done is wash and clean </div><div style="text-align: left;">Every painting and bit of artwork has been carefully cleansed of soot and detritus and stored away.</div><div style="text-align: left;">And every piece has been looked at again, as if it was new. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have a feeling I will pare down the wall and perhaps add open shelves to it </div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve not decided as yet.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve only seen <i>Mr Poznan </i>today. He popped in a load of old <i>Readers Digests </i>for me, you know the little ones that are a great loo time read</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“ You have a whale in the sink” </i>he observed before leaving</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-BRxRFi5hzWQpBpNh-3OfSVEhpge22lW_I10WXA_6Na4HDzRNL3uNwhyphenhyphenosCBcoIwF2e8d2aaXyuZZ2B6SthfE9bDj0Cy0cE61AgSmMx1uliTmBbbwjUoPmdjyfREigQ9_MMEuxgvGpbxGP9GdUqRKrkmHcrqhVTPLtcq5EtdgvkEfT4NaGCy/s3264/DF2B18B8-6FDC-4027-A7E5-F98AF601EB89.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-BRxRFi5hzWQpBpNh-3OfSVEhpge22lW_I10WXA_6Na4HDzRNL3uNwhyphenhyphenosCBcoIwF2e8d2aaXyuZZ2B6SthfE9bDj0Cy0cE61AgSmMx1uliTmBbbwjUoPmdjyfREigQ9_MMEuxgvGpbxGP9GdUqRKrkmHcrqhVTPLtcq5EtdgvkEfT4NaGCy/w400-h300/DF2B18B8-6FDC-4027-A7E5-F98AF601EB89.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9XJw6CAHuTzg0pP2YQjC7YuD5S6puDxxih65Q5s7PFfb46606ox2toqj6OuzIE6IXLzcrY3xul3A2utoqp6v_S9YHI0EGcusOj7i6wD9pQ-tBqy70HiRhsD0cNOp2JEPB8Q4NEzR9Wt9iJ5cXxJBvFs8hL1hhfLtOFQ44tFzxy6BBG8vp7Us/s3264/0724C3C1-F010-4789-BFF5-3AAC325C29BF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9XJw6CAHuTzg0pP2YQjC7YuD5S6puDxxih65Q5s7PFfb46606ox2toqj6OuzIE6IXLzcrY3xul3A2utoqp6v_S9YHI0EGcusOj7i6wD9pQ-tBqy70HiRhsD0cNOp2JEPB8Q4NEzR9Wt9iJ5cXxJBvFs8hL1hhfLtOFQ44tFzxy6BBG8vp7Us/w400-h300/0724C3C1-F010-4789-BFF5-3AAC325C29BF.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqnTrNHTRw8unT97vAYdrNCCX7z9CP1DkmsEn2BlmORd9qm7tabRzsV07glD79BL6NudqqbwV7felV6ydDVxnPyScYxNUXbkkMw_W75Th2DJedj1vGSoqi2vlL0mn5AVqoVcmZ-8zmbJOjnWZ_hltPZ2xuUuXw1fBlM1htHLgy-UaZUWekReN/s3264/853501C8-0E4C-4624-9B4B-D71AF9B68DA6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqnTrNHTRw8unT97vAYdrNCCX7z9CP1DkmsEn2BlmORd9qm7tabRzsV07glD79BL6NudqqbwV7felV6ydDVxnPyScYxNUXbkkMw_W75Th2DJedj1vGSoqi2vlL0mn5AVqoVcmZ-8zmbJOjnWZ_hltPZ2xuUuXw1fBlM1htHLgy-UaZUWekReN/w400-h300/853501C8-0E4C-4624-9B4B-D71AF9B68DA6.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbHLffeBcf51E75W1Tyf1-WvZJKUY_mHzd_NU3VLrRUMNoKiK3_pSR7T6geI-Wqz3Bq2X9pqG4xR_3IDxMSZHn1rG31v8fL6OE3PAcY3xlxENeIGi9Pp7AQ5Hu5z_8hg_Wv0sz8aVWphCdqDrRgOtiADGzevn2lzOsSJBEV5DUNkFoCmQXD9M/s3264/354D3B7C-00DD-462B-A17B-153362C8EFDB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbHLffeBcf51E75W1Tyf1-WvZJKUY_mHzd_NU3VLrRUMNoKiK3_pSR7T6geI-Wqz3Bq2X9pqG4xR_3IDxMSZHn1rG31v8fL6OE3PAcY3xlxENeIGi9Pp7AQ5Hu5z_8hg_Wv0sz8aVWphCdqDrRgOtiADGzevn2lzOsSJBEV5DUNkFoCmQXD9M/w400-h300/354D3B7C-00DD-462B-A17B-153362C8EFDB.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcZ4kj1r3Xv6wJVNgToFdhtIDLc4YsTJ3he_xqUorq0Z_vcmjWZhA_o04nS7R55EPnx79U3rESWay-UnLg09hzPsCUiz_WwscVTwakdhZ4rzbyb_rDai4aIlZQGhbsKmtkntBlETx_n55uKgwAZfQWt8qtAOBHL74w4JKghRsLSNNQUmFjLUP/s3264/59D7C7A1-A4AE-474E-BFF8-DB7B3E460620.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcZ4kj1r3Xv6wJVNgToFdhtIDLc4YsTJ3he_xqUorq0Z_vcmjWZhA_o04nS7R55EPnx79U3rESWay-UnLg09hzPsCUiz_WwscVTwakdhZ4rzbyb_rDai4aIlZQGhbsKmtkntBlETx_n55uKgwAZfQWt8qtAOBHL74w4JKghRsLSNNQUmFjLUP/w400-h300/59D7C7A1-A4AE-474E-BFF8-DB7B3E460620.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com373VQX9F7C+XV-54.635104600000012 179.472125-82.945338436178858 144.315875 -26.324870763821167 -145.371625tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-13607222332820282362024-03-15T00:12:00.004+00:002024-03-15T00:30:33.272+00:00All women do the same<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy9MZM9wZ4eDtt-V5RgIijFxBuuip_8N1k-A4RrnDXqODqTY1jtdmCGSn-rq5KAJ3EzBu8TDG9q93MOgPqwzg9zv3Qz8oGLOx-EAvGGEiRs_bSHoqIPe2gk1XMiVCZ0dZdRR0o6d0BZ7xymBxSQ1-tiPXywxYwQi3zZOBKDQ-he3EUX1ukQTC/s1456/7F47F8D0-1F2E-4885-B529-FCDCAF3481EF.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1456" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy9MZM9wZ4eDtt-V5RgIijFxBuuip_8N1k-A4RrnDXqODqTY1jtdmCGSn-rq5KAJ3EzBu8TDG9q93MOgPqwzg9zv3Qz8oGLOx-EAvGGEiRs_bSHoqIPe2gk1XMiVCZ0dZdRR0o6d0BZ7xymBxSQ1-tiPXywxYwQi3zZOBKDQ-he3EUX1ukQTC/w400-h284/7F47F8D0-1F2E-4885-B529-FCDCAF3481EF.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /> I love good theatre but I’m not a huge Opera Buff.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have my favourites for sure but at 61 Mozart’s <i>Cosi Fan Tutte ( translated as All Women Do The Same)</i>seems to have slipped me by, so as it was my friend <i>Ruth’s </i>birthday, I thought , I would take her. ( she inherited a love for the medium from a mum steeped in London Culture who ended her days in <i>Llanfairfechan.)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">We saw a quality production for sure, but it’s themes of grooming, entrapment, fickle female sexual behaviour and infidelity seemed rather unhealthy which had <i>Ruth </i>observing <i>if this wasn’t Mozart no one would be here!!!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">The singing quality was amazing, truly sublime at times, as you would expect of <i>The Welsh National Opera but </i>I have to be honest I’d had enough after two hours of three of sexual subterfuge. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HCmfwPqaydXwrXRDI7tikJEJgJaSvC72ElIMs00jdiynh5KIK8PbD9yWncPJhp_TzjUfMVNbSp0jQQjCxrqUtxJF4JjBjR-k6Wv3Q_pxDcaiXK_eB79UtyHLCxRBU-m9SXkNSDp499jdts5dmbXH4Q1J7UACBzEVU21Iv7jYMQWpD_HNYIGX/s1280/1D1BE474-EFDD-40E7-B571-B0FA02EBBD88.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="827" data-original-width="1280" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HCmfwPqaydXwrXRDI7tikJEJgJaSvC72ElIMs00jdiynh5KIK8PbD9yWncPJhp_TzjUfMVNbSp0jQQjCxrqUtxJF4JjBjR-k6Wv3Q_pxDcaiXK_eB79UtyHLCxRBU-m9SXkNSDp499jdts5dmbXH4Q1J7UACBzEVU21Iv7jYMQWpD_HNYIGX/w400-h259/1D1BE474-EFDD-40E7-B571-B0FA02EBBD88.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Before the Opera we went for a lovely supper at <i>Dylan’s </i>where I had something called <i>Mochyn Budr</i> which means <i>Dirty Pig </i>in Welsh . It was fantastic </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44hfLh9onbVkHGSrFmsYoAeJC3GFkeFsC99WXFGHNkjI1n79ZnY8yUd-vXWGI-Vs560rTvXvOKSF_8Fi6Wwy5kndNxjV1qbIhwHiakTwsevT20__-RHIISykp8-RBIm5wWswwyM0SwGmvW3nCf-c-JnJrqpSYPHtN9UmR_S5Kxo89AqGmGuMc/s1560/131E377F-6ABB-4C72-A607-95DE1D341DF3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="1560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44hfLh9onbVkHGSrFmsYoAeJC3GFkeFsC99WXFGHNkjI1n79ZnY8yUd-vXWGI-Vs560rTvXvOKSF_8Fi6Wwy5kndNxjV1qbIhwHiakTwsevT20__-RHIISykp8-RBIm5wWswwyM0SwGmvW3nCf-c-JnJrqpSYPHtN9UmR_S5Kxo89AqGmGuMc/s320/131E377F-6ABB-4C72-A607-95DE1D341DF3.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I got home late and happy at having the first really nice time in two weeks and the reality hit me as sharply as slap in the face would have done. The Welsh , raised their heads sleepily from the reading chair in the kitchen and smiled a hello , but there was not the hysterical, tail wagging welcome from <i>Dorothy </i>as I’ve been used to for over the past five years. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I sat at the kitchen table and for the first time since she<i> </i>was diagnosed by the kind Spanish vet , I had a good loud cry.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Only then did the Welsh get up and put concerned paws on my knees, their noses cold sniffing my face.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com74tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-58904378221645101332024-03-14T15:17:00.000+00:002024-03-14T15:17:09.990+00:00Hostiles <iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/1Ni40iu-kTc?si=ehAxaLErabPjaGgG" width="480"></iframe><div><br /></div><div>I watched the western drama <i>Hostiles </i>last night, which has the pitch perfect final scenes of any movie I care to mention.</div><div>It’s a brutal and hard film to watch, but it has a hopeful final theme of redemption.</div><div>Today I’ve bought paint and dust sheets to repaint the kitchen and have started to wash everything down</div><div><i>Nick and Velvet Voiced Linda , Lywenna and Eirlys </i>have called around with gifts of eggs, and jam and a gin and tonic. </div><div><i>Mrs Trellis </i>dropped in a sort of essay which I have yet to read .</div><div>People are so very kind </div><div>I am off out shortly it’s my friend Ruth’s birthday and I’m taking her to supper then the Opera</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwHRHlf-QGqRpZ8JaO2yIyJ_E9lDBEJmzGt5InM1HsZTjWjc8pBQvI2bFN2JyqBtn2_woSLP-0JJkT1gB09bBD8CjMIKlhxOQI5aJu8K8BFOZ2IOftFekgrlrGPrWQ6IKnbZenXRqlOtTUu7nXh1hLER2I5gcAWZU4iG5L4Fl_UbkHuTElvZ2p/s300/D520C7C6-31C5-40DE-8989-9F272E134176.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwHRHlf-QGqRpZ8JaO2yIyJ_E9lDBEJmzGt5InM1HsZTjWjc8pBQvI2bFN2JyqBtn2_woSLP-0JJkT1gB09bBD8CjMIKlhxOQI5aJu8K8BFOZ2IOftFekgrlrGPrWQ6IKnbZenXRqlOtTUu7nXh1hLER2I5gcAWZU4iG5L4Fl_UbkHuTElvZ2p/w400-h224/D520C7C6-31C5-40DE-8989-9F272E134176.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-65100908351977859752024-03-13T10:28:00.003+00:002024-03-13T12:23:17.379+00:00The Welsh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cLz_43pgKc2Is9SLr1_ZuSEGQm3EAxOyRm22KhTDBtvByRBozIjFR77nNBZMkjZKVYRnoj_aBe5R9HRYYRYOsYHex2hUi4xzwmErhkErqzrj0HZcsZlwtHkM_mPKCgGpYb9PAy7PweBE3T1rLnMwelprUrG1Nb3Gn9VXWsaTbjaOOg2ZUX2C/s2971/86D9BA3F-6F2E-4B0E-AFCF-91651F148957.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2228" data-original-width="2971" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cLz_43pgKc2Is9SLr1_ZuSEGQm3EAxOyRm22KhTDBtvByRBozIjFR77nNBZMkjZKVYRnoj_aBe5R9HRYYRYOsYHex2hUi4xzwmErhkErqzrj0HZcsZlwtHkM_mPKCgGpYb9PAy7PweBE3T1rLnMwelprUrG1Nb3Gn9VXWsaTbjaOOg2ZUX2C/w400-h300/86D9BA3F-6F2E-4B0E-AFCF-91651F148957.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Welsh terriers are quiet. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Not that they are pining, which they are not.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It is because things are different.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Mary </i>is now back in charge</div><div style="text-align: left;">She sat in <i>Dorothy’s </i>old spot all evening last night</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hogging my attention, licking my hands and feet and followed me around as <i>Dorothy </i>would have.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She and <i>Roger </i>came to bed, gleefully rubbing snouts on the duvet as they made circles to settle.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Typically <i>Roger </i>is going with the flow. </div><div style="text-align: left;">He really hasn’t got a clue, his job of home protector continues with excited, woofing gallops into the garden whenever anything bigger than a blackbird can be seen. </div><div style="text-align: left;">He employs a Zebedee type bounce when any human goes past in the vague hope he can obtain a hug and still can’t quite maintain his balance when putting paws onto <i>Bluebells </i>dashboard.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">He is, and will always be, a tonic</div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-58433430032270352652024-03-12T16:48:00.005+00:002024-03-12T22:14:56.200+00:00Normal<p> <i>Trendy Carol ( probably </i>sporting something springlike in green) sent some flowers around with her hubby yesterday. I told him, and I meant it that I should be the one buying flowers for if it wasn’t for them , I would not have been able to keep my dogs let alone acquire one like <i>Dorothy .</i></p><p><i>I bought them a bunch of flowers too, and signed them with thanks , Dorothy x</i></p><p><i>I went to college today </i>then bought some towels on the way home. I’m on annual leave this week</p><p>The cottage is quiet, I’m managed to read all your comments tonight , and am thankful I’ve only had to delete a couple , you’re a nice bunch and I feel supported </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaW2X1PpqWMZyeo-Okfob3H0h-y802y90DGqwFcd-aigBqTgCTyJCfj0w0s5Ee2T8V0ZMFR5khPeL7_iD72W5eQYg0WJKoonhP8UH7SQ6ckD_KVs0dxdjwGt2TaS9Yfe_EH1lR4vEv9XvuZDZK1eBM7ulPKrL_Tt39wXFa9ysXE-kqz4-tHhY/s3264/1AF089A0-37BE-40F9-984F-66906A0A2E76.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaW2X1PpqWMZyeo-Okfob3H0h-y802y90DGqwFcd-aigBqTgCTyJCfj0w0s5Ee2T8V0ZMFR5khPeL7_iD72W5eQYg0WJKoonhP8UH7SQ6ckD_KVs0dxdjwGt2TaS9Yfe_EH1lR4vEv9XvuZDZK1eBM7ulPKrL_Tt39wXFa9ysXE-kqz4-tHhY/s320/1AF089A0-37BE-40F9-984F-66906A0A2E76.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com63tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-68381482588985783622024-03-11T17:47:00.003+00:002024-03-11T17:47:43.260+00:00Postscript <p>To add to today’s post </p><div style="text-align: left;">Some perspective . Last night before we went to bed I put <i>Dorothy </i>in a pair of adult incontinence knickers.</div><div style="text-align: left;">(She took a small.)I’m sentimental, but I’m no fool even with the palliative care of my own bulldog.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She had the energy to look down slowly at the nappy , then looked me directly in the eye with a “ What the fuck have you just done to me !!!! ” look on her face.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It made me laugh out loud</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-24970007296904186892024-03-11T09:30:00.002+00:002024-03-11T15:44:39.427+00:00Monday<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Emotionally speaking it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster ride over the past two weeks..ever since a blogger insulted me on line, only removing the insult when challenged by a third party. The internet allows for such behaviour .</div><div style="text-align: left;">Such words would never be verbalised if I was stood there in person and the whole thing strangely upset me. Work has been challenging at times . I’ve had to pass an interview and essays too</div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s all been a bit h e a v y .</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The antibiotics I’ve been prescribed have made me intermittently nauseous but have reduced most of the soft tissue infection in my face. However my glands remain swollen and painful, and I’m self conscious and down about how I look. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I still have my effing cold too.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1EkrtWb-s6S12TYNcxbyaWapPTtmEzWO0xPSIIGZf_Fqcg0l9citDIl5v2BXC4Ux7JysgW4KjkNjM8j-Ym3Kqtpmunzy22RHAXxS7OnuwgnOoTrO3V5BsSQCcgwAVxXiiGx_9h6H2hc3raDZgOOE8y3loMxvUmq-xLB_hE20LKDd3Ke08Uo2/s1560/F5BDF947-D68E-48E3-AD8B-AEFDBAFB2422.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="1560" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1EkrtWb-s6S12TYNcxbyaWapPTtmEzWO0xPSIIGZf_Fqcg0l9citDIl5v2BXC4Ux7JysgW4KjkNjM8j-Ym3Kqtpmunzy22RHAXxS7OnuwgnOoTrO3V5BsSQCcgwAVxXiiGx_9h6H2hc3raDZgOOE8y3loMxvUmq-xLB_hE20LKDd3Ke08Uo2/w400-h300/F5BDF947-D68E-48E3-AD8B-AEFDBAFB2422.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dorothy last night with me on the sofa she’d just shared a frankfurter sausage !</div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And of course <i>Dorothy </i>died early this morning </div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m relieved she won’t have to linger any more and was grateful for having time to spend with her on the couch over the weekend with the fire lit warmly.it was her time and I’m glad.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At the end she looked a little worried but hid her head under my chin as I told her to be a brave girl. She snapped at the others so as usual it was only me and her against the world.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The last smell she smelled was me, </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">the last voice she heard was mine</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In the five years since she came to me, she’s always been such a scared girl at times</div><div style="text-align: left;">But not scared anymore.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m going to the cinema later.</div><div style="text-align: left;">The place that makes me better.</div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com154tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-56203969887422533212024-03-10T15:03:00.001+00:002024-03-10T16:15:07.685+00:00A Chippy Tea<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizv-Ad81xYKdRDrD7_rVVV3gfBLK4HsHZu_CEo9HWhvA7FmzrFqPRrRYhTMSekk2k_UicwDQulOXD3m6Jf7cci0KiIPo8cqUGUF9CAx172SNNpa5gCaLMUfZcfy8ws70sSP-gto26fJUbeMUf1fCvx3Z1KGMeWn9f2-7KfaZQjEeS4aXonXW1_/s300/22A33A73-FC92-4C16-8FC2-CC04445A547E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizv-Ad81xYKdRDrD7_rVVV3gfBLK4HsHZu_CEo9HWhvA7FmzrFqPRrRYhTMSekk2k_UicwDQulOXD3m6Jf7cci0KiIPo8cqUGUF9CAx172SNNpa5gCaLMUfZcfy8ws70sSP-gto26fJUbeMUf1fCvx3Z1KGMeWn9f2-7KfaZQjEeS4aXonXW1_/w320-h179/22A33A73-FC92-4C16-8FC2-CC04445A547E.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When the world and their mothers were busy with <i>Mothering Sunday, </i>I took the dogs to the beach and out for a chippy tea.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now I’m sure many of you may not know what <i>A Chippy Tea </i>is, so I shall explain . <i>A Chippy Tea ( or Dinner) </i>is when historically the lady of the house , through busyness, illness, holiday time or whatever had decided not to cook that mealtime and a rare “ take out” was in order.</div><div style="text-align: left;">For my family <i>A Chippy Tea </i>was a rarity and a treat.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It remains so</div><div style="text-align: left;">It must be well over 2 years since I last had one.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now, for those that still remain in the dark , the meal consists of a large battered fish fillet ( usually cod or haddock ) lying on a bed of chips. These chips are thick cut fresh fries that are slightly crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, but generally in the steam of the take out, they can be just soft! </div><div style="text-align: left;">Everything is covered with a generous amount of malt vinegar and salt. Then wrapped in a box and paper.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s a delight on a miserable day.</div><div style="text-align: left;">We ate it in the beach car park. <i>Dorothy </i>had a small battered fish of her own ( with half the batter removed) where the Welsh shared my box </div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com66tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-10831047000443928862024-03-09T18:43:00.002+00:002024-03-09T19:01:14.628+00:00Sweet<div style="text-align: left;"> <i>Dorothy </i>has had a comfortable day </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Trendy Carol’s Husband </i>came around to visit with a pork steak in hand.</div><div style="text-align: left;">He’s looked after <i>Dorothy </i>everyday I’ve been at work, holiday and college for the past 5 years. </div><div style="text-align: left;">And I couldn’t stand to watch as he stroked her head gently and called her <i>his Dotty, </i>and so busied myself with something in the kitchen as he said his tearful goodbyes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-56669708517031954932024-03-09T11:19:00.002+00:002024-03-09T11:19:30.328+00:00CDK - Somebody That I Used To Know by Gotye<iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/REPPgPcw4hk?si=RhnWeTr4DaGQrvRi" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/REPPgPcw4hk/hqdefault.jpg);" width="480"></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Amazing little film </div><div>It’s cold here, grey and miserable </div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-85668563224102669812024-03-08T13:14:00.009+00:002024-03-08T20:49:48.659+00:00“Enough Cariño” <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO24e9COhNygt35-6uxBAUdsLbRTwYbalU1QvN-Xgexr4aFcU2sjSf3lCZpSMqPeYSifbxXusVaq1TO0cvc3hxILO3TRGtucQk5KurIcDhMcYE_TdrkrcWUiKrrrgwV4WQAPR-JV9mRpwBq9KE23mXBY6WiAieDj8Ni908kARohczEpuz5wfmq/s2628/C39C6D20-10FD-4ADD-8F93-CEFCFA8A8370.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="2628" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO24e9COhNygt35-6uxBAUdsLbRTwYbalU1QvN-Xgexr4aFcU2sjSf3lCZpSMqPeYSifbxXusVaq1TO0cvc3hxILO3TRGtucQk5KurIcDhMcYE_TdrkrcWUiKrrrgwV4WQAPR-JV9mRpwBq9KE23mXBY6WiAieDj8Ni908kARohczEpuz5wfmq/w400-h370/C39C6D20-10FD-4ADD-8F93-CEFCFA8A8370.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was pleased the Spanish vet was on duty. </div><div style="text-align: left;">She agreed with me about an ultrasound and has a lovely way about her.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She told that me my face looked sore. </div><div style="text-align: left;">She’d be a good candidate for a hospice nurse. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Practical, kind and straight to the point.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Dorothy </i>refused to be led away from me so I was allowed to accompany the staff to scanning.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I clicked my fingers and <i>Dorothy </i>followed me and I couldn’t contain my pride when the vet said</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“ You’ve trained her well”</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Even I could see the size of the tumour on the scan and when the vet aspirated bloody fluid from her abdomen with a 2 mls syringe, she held it out for me to see</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“Enough Cariño” </i>she said quietly </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>“She has a few days” the Spanish vet said “ Take her home and spoil her with anything she wants to eat”</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">And that’s exactly what I’ve done</div><div style="text-align: left;">We stopped at the village shop in Caerwys where I found a packet of cocktail sausages and then side by side, I popped one into her mouth at a time as she chewed them with closed happy old eyes.I didn’t cry until she leant up for a kiss well after she was sure all of the sausages had been finished, and not used to being free of her crate in the car I let her stand with her paws on the dashboard, as Roger does so much when we go out every morning.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She couldn’t believe her luck.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I stopped one more time to buy a cooked chicken for more dog dinners and some expensive flowers for myself. (It’s Mothers’ day) and we went home.</div><div style="text-align: left;">My email light was flashing on my laptop when we entered the kitchen,</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’d received an email from MIND , </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have got the counselling placement.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com139tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-87722747951756744852024-03-07T12:40:00.005+00:002024-03-07T12:40:36.809+00:00Sick<div style="text-align: left;"> “ <i>You’ve got to be fucking kidding!”</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">My first words this morning, looking in the mirror . </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have a right facial abscess which came from nowhere overnight.</div><div style="text-align: left;">My face is hot and swollen and I look like <i>Russell Crowe </i>on steroids.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I was supposed to be at a funeral in Ormskirk at 11am but at that time found myself trying to be polite to my GP who has all the bedside manner of <i>Nellie Oleson.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">“ <i>It looks bad and if it gets worse go to A&E” </i>he said without a goodbye.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m now on three types of strong antibiotics and popped some painkillers down with them at the pharmacy after <i>Ravi </i>the pretty pharmacist gave me much overdue sympathy and my prescription .</div><div style="text-align: left;">I may not comment and blog for a day or do</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hey ho. X</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ps for <i>Debby, Col and Steve</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMGXPuo-C7z93py76coKkGxPEY4t_7kyancI6RGYCLCmxvAjKdCGH-m3zTwbFMWNb4CVjuafFr9iOMRK6COXWbiSv8F54Qy75mbcvs4whedkK1hNDqznz749Gse5J7VWsH3eMujPPTdP8Q5nKHzaFgyQDk0ZrH6HSoCWtugsn48Riz7GMGfxj/s3264/5E24DB29-BDCF-4406-A6C9-F83A17BC5EB1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMGXPuo-C7z93py76coKkGxPEY4t_7kyancI6RGYCLCmxvAjKdCGH-m3zTwbFMWNb4CVjuafFr9iOMRK6COXWbiSv8F54Qy75mbcvs4whedkK1hNDqznz749Gse5J7VWsH3eMujPPTdP8Q5nKHzaFgyQDk0ZrH6HSoCWtugsn48Riz7GMGfxj/w400-h300/5E24DB29-BDCF-4406-A6C9-F83A17BC5EB1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-78594647214888087432024-03-06T12:16:00.002+00:002024-03-06T12:16:56.990+00:00Cold<div style="text-align: left;"> My brain is too big more my head to cope with ( that’s been said before lol) <i>I’m </i>counting down to my next lemsip like a junkie but at least the sun is shining. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I found a moribund sleeping tablet at the bottom of the medicine box last night and took it at 8 pm </div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve slept all night since then.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m doing very little today, having said that I’ve just photographed a passive aggressive note on the village noticeboard slagging off the <i>Community Council ( not the community association that’s different) </i>and have taken its 1980s passive aggression to task on the village website.,</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve got to pick up a prescription for a neighbour and a friend in the village is just out of hospital so I want drop in some goodies before taking <i>Roger </i>around to the <i>Manleys </i>so he can socialise with their English setter <i>Skye</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m diverting myself of course, </div><div style="text-align: left;">No sub conscious working here</div><div style="text-align: left;">I should have booked <i>Dorothy </i>back at the vets today but</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ive arranged for her to go in for review on Friday. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Tomorrow I’m attending a funeral.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I’ve still not heard from MIND regarding the counselling place</div><div style="text-align: left;">But checking the dairy I’ve just noted the date</div><div style="text-align: left;">March. 6th</div><div style="text-align: left;">My “<i>wedding Anniversary”</i> date </div><div style="text-align: left;">Just crept into my my mind</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-50568372046514814322024-03-05T07:54:00.000+00:002024-03-05T07:54:40.487+00:00Curved Ball<div style="text-align: left;"> I shouldn’t go into university today.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Overnight Ive developed a streaming cold and have had little sleep.</div><div style="text-align: left;">We have an assessed exam of our counselling skill next week so I have to practice for that, but I will cut my day short and return home at lunchtime. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I walked the dogs in a daze but as we returned home, I noticed <i>Dorothy </i>had a bit of poo stuck to her bottom.</div><div style="text-align: left;">She patiently waited for me to give her a wipe </div><div style="text-align: left;">And wagged her stubby tail</div><div style="text-align: left;">But the poo wasn’t what it seemed</div><div style="text-align: left;">She has some sort of fast growing tumour back there</div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-70612747247353005132024-03-04T20:41:00.004+00:002024-03-04T21:46:18.767+00:00La Passion de Dodin Bouffant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoNGd4D_oCEfaFsmud20OhakJssjPdytnDd96vyMYsT4-5wEoL6-MKmJ2tBKyIx19h2iXj0uhUJ1UQ3z499rtCOa7M81OWkahELZkS1G3lyznmPKbb1dyFkpO_T7JI8JjtbmaJMqj7GQeo4Yotltdp0B4dRPtBwHRdazpk5Y02fbs-Uf_nN0d/s275/EC72EF66-0BE0-47B4-A347-36046F499EE9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoNGd4D_oCEfaFsmud20OhakJssjPdytnDd96vyMYsT4-5wEoL6-MKmJ2tBKyIx19h2iXj0uhUJ1UQ3z499rtCOa7M81OWkahELZkS1G3lyznmPKbb1dyFkpO_T7JI8JjtbmaJMqj7GQeo4Yotltdp0B4dRPtBwHRdazpk5Y02fbs-Uf_nN0d/w400-h266/EC72EF66-0BE0-47B4-A347-36046F499EE9.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cKKCGtoIOVY" width="320" youtube-src-id="cKKCGtoIOVY"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p> It does annoy me that many foreign language films get their titles changed to suit an English speaking world market. <i>Les Passion De Dodin Bouffant </i>is the perfect example for this afternoon I went to see the somewhat bland sounding <i>The Taste Of Things </i>which sounds to me like a 1980s British tv sitcom ! </p><div style="text-align: left;">As it turned out <i>The Taste Of Things </i>was anything but bland. </div><div style="text-align: left;">It is a gloriously elegant and beautiful film, exquisitely photographed and carefully acted, with every scene set in a French Country house in the summer of 1889, painted with the skill of a grand master.</div><div style="text-align: left;">The film’s opening sets the pace and style of the whole piece as we watch food lover <i>Dodin Bouffant ( Benoît Magimel)</i> and his cook and lover <i>Eugénie( Juliette Binoche) </i>prepare an exquisite meal for the couples 5 best friends. The pair share a deep love of cooking and each other and it shows as they silently work around each other in country kitchen to die for with all the grace and skill of a couple of ballet dancers. The ticket of admission pays for that extended scene alone. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Magimel </i>shines as the love struck, passionate and likeable <i>Dodin </i>with <i>Binoche </i>matching his every move . A stone’s throw from sixty she is at her most beautiful , and gives her character a haunting grace which is wonderfully moving . </div><div style="text-align: left;">I loved every bit of this movie. </div><div style="text-align: left;">It’s a beautiful story of an autumnal love affair</div><div style="text-align: left;">And a joyous celebration of cookery at its best</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK56tN_2Md1cYnJJXemfleYEwMN-CfGMaK61aaRP0hAWE9_-fspbyqn3c_Sw-9UGAH39bzQvEVw-LS15_uwxLjVn7CeLV60y0tz9zQ2V1f36wo8k5Th36rka5J_vfebxKUPkCWNExhwYdpgpY0LDyBeBouqZ_CLd0GhrkjA8-4mJteDvGXYJQ/s300/485DC8A6-130A-4EE8-8D76-0080B9B005C0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK56tN_2Md1cYnJJXemfleYEwMN-CfGMaK61aaRP0hAWE9_-fspbyqn3c_Sw-9UGAH39bzQvEVw-LS15_uwxLjVn7CeLV60y0tz9zQ2V1f36wo8k5Th36rka5J_vfebxKUPkCWNExhwYdpgpY0LDyBeBouqZ_CLd0GhrkjA8-4mJteDvGXYJQ/w400-h224/485DC8A6-130A-4EE8-8D76-0080B9B005C0.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimh5znDElnoIx8ZGpmODrAIQRaEQPLu95RkLemUQhEh30QKvi0B8GqTtOfzxTo5GttXY_xT2LVKqFHrOGNUhUpd6zu4xNK7WN5gXImZrcnwcFsNTBcasXwBx0rgEETnOwUTMijUjDlm8vbdgTIj5uuKUteA4gVdLhFgogBlJbIHZc5poa6EZK_/s299/4B48624E-25D5-424D-B3D8-B32861CA8962.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimh5znDElnoIx8ZGpmODrAIQRaEQPLu95RkLemUQhEh30QKvi0B8GqTtOfzxTo5GttXY_xT2LVKqFHrOGNUhUpd6zu4xNK7WN5gXImZrcnwcFsNTBcasXwBx0rgEETnOwUTMijUjDlm8vbdgTIj5uuKUteA4gVdLhFgogBlJbIHZc5poa6EZK_/w400-h225/4B48624E-25D5-424D-B3D8-B32861CA8962.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-23542391941596546122024-03-03T12:13:00.001+00:002024-03-03T12:13:26.644+00:00How Do You Cope?<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I slept properly last night.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Deeply and long.</div><div style="text-align: left;">So did <i>Dorothy.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">She woke me briefly wanting the loo around 6 am and disappeared out into the garden before we returned to bed to sleep. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I could tell that she felt better as she lay still against my leg as she normally does.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Proper sleep, with REM dreaming is vital for processing stress. Stimulating rapid eye movements in patients with PTSD has been shown to be beneficial.</div><div style="text-align: left;">There’s a lot to be said for shutting the doors of your psychi too and tuning out of the world. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I cope with things unevenly. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The large glass of gin after a busy shift is a thorny reward, as is the takeaway or fridge raid, but balance in things certainly does help more . Cinema , theatre, lunch out, a company moment planned off sets the sad and the stress times but doesn’t always fill the gaps when a live body next to you listens to the <i>shit of the day.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>But they help</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Nurses see <i>transference </i>regularly. They are also are on the receiving end of stress when their patients and their relatives are facing stressors that not easily resolved and coped with. </div><div style="text-align: left;">If you feel impotent with an issue, a problem or an event, anger and resentment are often your to go emotions. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Anger especially is most easily accessed of all of them, a vent through a crack</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mind you ai can give a great deal of relief from pressure , especially in no win situations .</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Humour helps me , more than anything too, but can be overshadowed by others’ drama . </div><div style="text-align: left;">Drama is addictive, but uneven </div><div style="text-align: left;">Humour brings with it some warmth and balance and laughter, it has been proven, physically removes stress for the body.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This morning, I treated myself to the go to <i>oral treat. </i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Breakfast of potato waffles, egg and of all things scampi </div><div style="text-align: left;">Bloody lovely it was too</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Netflix, dozing in front of the fire, of and cleaning the toilet until you can see yourself in the bowl</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKupSRB3EGxgnRRoy40QZHsX8dZh2PhC-o6pz_laOF-fmGoWwS6wF6QE93YHZz6fGKF-dYao3ibziWMneRttBYpLZvhAkTZfI3b20nZvSfY1VxcBBoqVz3ZOPhp_thBBMMGsBdvonTxoU6xm7ECZjMRi668r195a1fFqO6dEWHdksQmdS1V7S/s3264/0280AAB2-C2AB-473C-95D4-23B8E3925693.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKupSRB3EGxgnRRoy40QZHsX8dZh2PhC-o6pz_laOF-fmGoWwS6wF6QE93YHZz6fGKF-dYao3ibziWMneRttBYpLZvhAkTZfI3b20nZvSfY1VxcBBoqVz3ZOPhp_thBBMMGsBdvonTxoU6xm7ECZjMRi668r195a1fFqO6dEWHdksQmdS1V7S/w400-h300/0280AAB2-C2AB-473C-95D4-23B8E3925693.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com87tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-65586877734323520812024-03-02T21:33:00.004+00:002024-03-02T22:03:28.480+00:00Needy<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HLGTeGrN9RBbCgrSptwWoYfHjQqS-q7JsfLo87ye_3VHfdCwOdfgqId_5C1bzjqNZxQxaGs-tUV2zOs7hrzSLDC3m1CSh6Tiku13wS4PVLeYhZtb73Hze-lMBiDgHxcUOdElQM5BDPfWc76CZAUOi2tzOSUF_VTAj5edBOP3bMCpYubpsJEa/s1280/22D3BEB8-848B-4DB5-8541-99F2810C1EFD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HLGTeGrN9RBbCgrSptwWoYfHjQqS-q7JsfLo87ye_3VHfdCwOdfgqId_5C1bzjqNZxQxaGs-tUV2zOs7hrzSLDC3m1CSh6Tiku13wS4PVLeYhZtb73Hze-lMBiDgHxcUOdElQM5BDPfWc76CZAUOi2tzOSUF_VTAj5edBOP3bMCpYubpsJEa/w400-h300/22D3BEB8-848B-4DB5-8541-99F2810C1EFD.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I left the cottage at twenty past six and returned just before nine pm. Dorothy was asleep in the crook of my right arm by half past nine after her meal of rice and chicken and painkillers. <div><i>trendy Carol’s Hubby </i>had looked after her beautifully <br /><p></p><p>Thank you for all the best wishes for her</p><p>She knows something is afoot and is more clingy than Donald Trumps underpants</p><p>Off to bed </p> <p></p></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-87894850639614301232024-03-02T06:28:00.001+00:002024-03-02T06:28:18.933+00:00<div style="text-align: left;"> Sleepless night after 4 am <i>Dorothy restless and odd despite painkillers</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Just going to work </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Boy do I need myMcDonald’s coffee this morning</i></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-1983988045088390682024-03-01T20:55:00.007+00:002024-03-01T20:56:11.470+00:00St Davids Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOniC1a-89UI4T6bGUmIjOaIwoCNreqAgHYU_052-l9kAOR1-AOzAXgCIJMO3-Gaf08mNUDYHy364RAmKvyHpAgVZ36gPNHAPZHz3oJGAHRQSmCwMixiP6a-J2eDaBOyQ6VQWvKx9kpi1tMQgP0Y-3f3wJ2nUDmCwMBE89IUmXq0Hzn8AKvRMP/s1200/C13E8A6A-FA74-4852-A9EE-297F7444A924.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOniC1a-89UI4T6bGUmIjOaIwoCNreqAgHYU_052-l9kAOR1-AOzAXgCIJMO3-Gaf08mNUDYHy364RAmKvyHpAgVZ36gPNHAPZHz3oJGAHRQSmCwMixiP6a-J2eDaBOyQ6VQWvKx9kpi1tMQgP0Y-3f3wJ2nUDmCwMBE89IUmXq0Hzn8AKvRMP/w400-h400/C13E8A6A-FA74-4852-A9EE-297F7444A924.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I was ten minutes early for my interview</div><div style="text-align: left;">And wore a plain <i>Bluebell blue </i>jumper, black pants and work shoes.</div><div style="text-align: left;">It was cold so I wore my new woollen coat and a multicoloured scarf , which I thought made me look vaguely “counselling”</div><div style="text-align: left;">I felt it went ok, I will hear on Monday if I have a place. The centre seems well resourced and run from what I can see and there is a noticeable energy in the staff I met , which I liked.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">From there, I did some shopping in Tesco and bumped into an old friend, a sister from ITU. I told her where I’d been and she laughed saying I should have done it years ago. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I was a crap ITU nurse she was in fact saying…the technology often baffled me , </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I met my friend Polly <i>at Bryn Williams </i>which was packed with <i>St David’s Day </i>diners. Each table had miniature daffodils in vases, so the place smelled slightly of piss , something even our waitress agreed upon. </div><div style="text-align: left;">There was smoked mackerel scotch eggs on the menu! Oh be still my beating heart!!!! They were bloody lovely too</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-baUJ1h8WdLFel6_hiO3QH4LEa0s_e_nxytEYJhzEQTiKheEozNEu6e5EoNOzIbg04qgVjACC9L8o4ytcLAw1cWvR_1wtaasciJxNpAAQZZTAonRLzUQ1U11Kx41khrHlZjoR43hbaXnoX0HODjhHsL72VQ9PGGVrsEcN50R8CviJMNb1Yx5/s2048/7C06F918-2543-4BD3-A7BA-C5933648C1F4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-baUJ1h8WdLFel6_hiO3QH4LEa0s_e_nxytEYJhzEQTiKheEozNEu6e5EoNOzIbg04qgVjACC9L8o4ytcLAw1cWvR_1wtaasciJxNpAAQZZTAonRLzUQ1U11Kx41khrHlZjoR43hbaXnoX0HODjhHsL72VQ9PGGVrsEcN50R8CviJMNb1Yx5/w400-h300/7C06F918-2543-4BD3-A7BA-C5933648C1F4.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Lunch and gossip was lovely. I miss working with Polly, a true all round, old fashioned GP, hey ho.<div><br /></div><div>Anyway came home, walked the dogs then went to Prestatyn to see <i>Dune II </i>where my sister Janet met me inside the cinema just before the film started. We are twins but she does not hold with being early for anything ( as I painfully do) </div><div>It was beautiful to look at as is <i>Zandaya </i>in the second lead, but the film, as sequels often are , is a bit lumpy and long. <i>Timothy Chalamet </i>still has a certain something, I must say, not my type at all, but he holds the camera and audience in the palm of his hand. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqx06iTQXLGuF15UJj5ZHBrc4jKx1zk-hf-kiTdU3W0J-JAHSJORv8B7KvA_-iRYLvwqkCOknUvZT-tggh3Ehe2odAMAGs3pALG4uC8A8LPe1b41OeJRkpZDU2A_RO3FEFcVnqAy7iKFNBoQx6ztzF3b9zmkemnSBMgepX1QZMPkw5d5HLipyn/s741/D07B17B4-9E30-4069-B842-7963AAEB1B66.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="741" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqx06iTQXLGuF15UJj5ZHBrc4jKx1zk-hf-kiTdU3W0J-JAHSJORv8B7KvA_-iRYLvwqkCOknUvZT-tggh3Ehe2odAMAGs3pALG4uC8A8LPe1b41OeJRkpZDU2A_RO3FEFcVnqAy7iKFNBoQx6ztzF3b9zmkemnSBMgepX1QZMPkw5d5HLipyn/s320/D07B17B4-9E30-4069-B842-7963AAEB1B66.webp" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ocosIwWmgMfPLkLlrYnY3lAFdnBia_il7UMJEAznbcjU8-UHqjRf77lI8l7gQRHL4mVMdOEOHZN5Qdc4ckJJLjukoiSRqqb2gtWmZYAuB1Vy-_sSO_h0Uyg_vqnIIkRYxAv2ZuSam3uLBWEA1oh1A_TCwSJuiKUvMJttklmLQxoO9EuRr834/s1200/34B64E46-A2C0-49BF-B2C6-EA733721F6ED.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ocosIwWmgMfPLkLlrYnY3lAFdnBia_il7UMJEAznbcjU8-UHqjRf77lI8l7gQRHL4mVMdOEOHZN5Qdc4ckJJLjukoiSRqqb2gtWmZYAuB1Vy-_sSO_h0Uyg_vqnIIkRYxAv2ZuSam3uLBWEA1oh1A_TCwSJuiKUvMJttklmLQxoO9EuRr834/s320/34B64E46-A2C0-49BF-B2C6-EA733721F6ED.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I’ve not long got home, and have lit the fire ,and marshalled the dogs onto the sofa for warmth. I’m working tomorrow <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-84128840950258203422024-03-01T09:33:00.000+00:002024-03-01T09:33:00.857+00:00Fuck<p> Fuck, just checked my interview for MIND is at 11am not midday</p><p>Fuckity fuck fuck…..</p>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-68367669372487170622024-02-29T10:37:00.003+00:002024-02-29T20:16:44.532+00:00Mess<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dfrfBCCyLPyw4r_FaFSOtwdHCyb_SMd5O2eHwS9MLvZ8XV-arxJJgSZfZxObTltIuEmfDdgouIl3UvlO0vWOkaFrDI3dN72DJsUI8ggXNq6BK4lJM8AzT8xBP2xxfei5PdM8kRe-zzYG8Y8yt5VBNfl1AvK3QPshSq0ikpNkQ1dOTWuHxm4D/s3264/77A529D0-3EE9-483E-8903-830DD963036F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dfrfBCCyLPyw4r_FaFSOtwdHCyb_SMd5O2eHwS9MLvZ8XV-arxJJgSZfZxObTltIuEmfDdgouIl3UvlO0vWOkaFrDI3dN72DJsUI8ggXNq6BK4lJM8AzT8xBP2xxfei5PdM8kRe-zzYG8Y8yt5VBNfl1AvK3QPshSq0ikpNkQ1dOTWuHxm4D/w400-h300/77A529D0-3EE9-483E-8903-830DD963036F.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The cottage looks like something from the blitz</div><div style="text-align: left;">Why does that happen with only one human in the house?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fuck knows.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yesterday’s shift was full on, more like a busy A&E than a hospice </div><div style="text-align: left;">I said to a new family that when I first came I expected lots of nuns looking like <i>Audrey Hepburn </i>floating about.</div><div style="text-align: left;">They expected it too 😞</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, this morning we went for a walk and picked up a McDonalds coffee, and I will be shortly standing in the kitchen and will hike up those bra straps in order to get the place <i>in order.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>That’s my only job for the day.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Tomorrow I have an interview with MIND regarding a counselling placement and I’m meeting my friend Polly for lunch. Polly used to be a doctor at the hospice but has now left for pastures new. It’s lovely we keep in touch.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tomorrow night my sister and are going to see <i>Dune 2 at the cinema</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I’ve just cleaned underneath the kitchen reading chair</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>One hard dog stool, one rubber chicken, one croc ( chewed) a small cactus(?) 54 p in coins and one pair of underpants</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">I bought too many cream eggs at the supermarket and stopped down the lane to give Helen and Ian, sailor John and Mrs Trellis one each </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div>John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com75