A Quiet Sunny Sunday

 A quiet, sunny Sunday, with cut garden roses in my favourite vase. 

I’ve talked to friends on teams, doom scrolled and drank hazelnut coffee.

I’ve shampooed Mary’s old lady accidents from the living room carpet and hand washed the cushions which dried almost immediately in this heat. 

My friend Polly gave me this beautiful Lino print she designed and made herself and I’ve moved paintings around to make room for it.

I ate cold chicken and broccoli for supper and the Welsh shared the white meat with eyes shut. 

It’s muggy and whatever black cat is at the moment living me is asleep in the spare room

Trelawnyd is sleepy in the heat 

And so am I 

Trelawnyd’s Garden Party

 

The closest Trelawnyd comes to a Lord and Lady of the Manor are Pippa & Tom who live in The Rectory , which the biggest house in the village. They are Trelawnyd Royalty. 

The Rectory is tucked away next to the Church , and is hidden away from the road by the bungalows of Rhodfa Arthur( Arthur Avenue) It used to possess a tree lined drive with fields on either side in which the Vicar Jenkins kept cows and Auntie Gladys kept sheep. 

The old photographs are courtesy of Daphne Jones, Rev Jenkins’ daughter who lived in the village for many years 

Anyhow I digress, Pippa and Tom will be hosting an afternoon Tea / Garden party in the Rectory gardens on the 18th. of July, the proceeds of which will go to the TCA and upkeep of the village hall. 

 

Ian ( Village Leader), The Velvet Voiced Linda , her hubby Nick and myself all met up today to risk assess the gardens at 1 pm. They are lovely, even though they could be a risk assessors nightmare and the event should be all rather tasteful I think given the genteel feel about the place. 

I will leave you with this delightful video to make you smile on this hot day

Me as the cottage

 

The cottage will never be pristine 

I do try, but like dogs often do with their owners, 

My cottage resembles me in a strange sort of way.

The cracks in the kitchen ceiling mark a time I left the water running in the bathroom so like me the cottage has its own plumbing scars. 

One of the kitchen windows has a spider vein hole echoing the vision in my shaky right eye

And the living room carpets are all in need of a good scrub. 

Ha! 

The Kitchen cabinets have been rubbed for years by two terrier bums as I have, and the decor and look of the place is just a little old fashioned and in places a tiny bit scruffy.

But like me it generally homely and warm and friendly, with some surprises still in store for visitors who want to explore its more mysterious corners lol 

Angels Come To Llandudno

 

I’m doing ok , not really great , but ok. The catheter thing is a bind and tiring and my energy levels have been depleted by some shocking busy and challenging shifts at the hospice.

The Bun / Weaver thing has saddened me and uncertainty related to what the urology plan has made me all rather stressed

My bestie Nu is overseas and I’m skint and this morning I’ve felt all rather fed up with it too.

That was until I got a message from old friends ally and Tracey

You may remember my reunion with them in York last year after a 38 year hiatus.

“we should be in Llandudno by 1600 on Friday 26. Staying at the Esplanade. We are paying for your room as a birthday treat. dinner at the GOAT 1930, Motown at Venue Cymru after. Good blow in the prom the next day. How’s that? All booked x” 

Angels are not strange creatures with wings and halos 

They are old friends that catch you out of the blue and who lift you when you are down and flat and running on empty 

Shakespeare Could Have Written it

 

I overdid some cleaning this afternoon and Fell asleep listening to Mandy mow her lawns next door. A small black body was curled up on the bed next to me and I without thinking I stroked her whilst listening to this music. 

Now I’ve thought it strange that Bun has changed certain habits since Weaver left. She’s slightly quieter, she no longer walks with us at night and she sleeps on the bed rather than on me every night, but she’s typically affectionate almost needy at other times. 

I thought about this when I stroked her flank 

And suddenly there it was. Faint but certainly there. A tiny bald patch and a scar from an old infected suture after a kitten hood hernia repair . 

And it all made sense of a sort . It would now seem that it’s dear Bun that has left home 

And Mistress Weaver has been left behind

Weaver

 Gone again , I’ve asked on the village website who are her new parents ?

How I Hated Josh

 

I enrolled in a day’s seminar/study on PTSD today. 

It was in Liverpool and most of the group were counsellors, and health care professionals with varying degrees of experience. 

For most of the day we were split up into working groups , each with a facilitator. 

My group’s facilitator I shall call Josh and he was exhaustingly and successfully gay. 

Not only did we find out that he was in a wonderfully supportive relationship with his long term boyfriend, Juan- Luca, Josh also managed to shoehorn personal and self validating facts about the pair of them at every given chance. 

I quickly started to hate Josh

I hated his smugness, and his neediness and his showing off about how lovely his two pugs were with their daddies.

I hated his 34 inch waist , and his neatly ironed designer shirt,

I hated just how white his teeth were and how his hair didn’t move an inch as he flounced around.

I hated that he reminded me I was single and sometimes lonely

And I hated the fact that I disagreed with one valid clinical observation he made just because he got on my nerves.

As part of a wind down debrief, we all shared what we were going to do with the rest of the day, and Josh preened that he was going to cook his hubby a delicious steak with asparagus on their new patio barbecue as said hubby opened a chilled bottle of something expensive 

When it came around to my debrief , I just about stopped with the comment “ I hope it chokes you both” and smiled a tired smile before sharing a slightly ironic “ I think I will lie down in a darkened room with a cool face flannel over my eyes” 

I’m only human, I thought darkly

Ps weaver has disappeared again 🐈‍⬛

 

Wave The Flag eh?

 I was heartened by the good residents of Brighton for running off the racist right wing demonstrators in their city recently. It was not only the right thing to do, it was a kind thing to do. It was a kindness to all the people of Britain who are not Caucasian white. 

It was a hand hold, a hug, a nod and reminder to those frightened and often disadvantaged right wing supporters that not everyone think that they are right 

During the First World War some 4,500 Belgium refugees were given sanctuary in North East Wales. And even Trelawnyd billeted families at the Village Hall. Not bad for a predominately isolated Welsh village.

I was only thinking about this yesterday when I drove up to the village, and just before entering Trelawnyd I noticed a small holding on the right which sported a flag at its gate. 

The Palestinian Flag