Monday Meeting

 The weather has been fine today, almost springlike in-fact.

I washed the bedding and hung it on bushes and the field gate to dry, then drank caramel coffee and talked to the German for an hour. At teatime when I collected the duvet and sheets and the eiderdown, they all smelled vaguely of grass, clematis - the Montana and in my imagination elderflower, which flourishes on the field borders. 

At twelve I went to the village hall to help brainstorm more activities needed by the village which hopefully get funding from the local authority. Lots of good ideas were put forward, including help to learn how to produce a stage production properly, the proper use of internet and mobile phones, help with internet scamming, mental health support, cookery and budget help, outdoor landscaping, lots of ideas were thrown into a pot which is a testament of how much good humour and mutual respect is present.

I covered the outline of my leg bag with a jumper when I walked in to the hall which village elder Ian gently joked that I looked like a Mason with his apron. Gentle joshing is healthy and saves me the energy of doing it myself. 

People have been very kind.

Bun now accompanies us on every walk down the lane now, and skips along in the lead rather than following the troops . For the first time she forgot herself and rubbed her head and neck under the chin of an astonished Roger on their way home which was something Albert used to do to Winnie regularly. 

My stand back and watch plan over the last 18 months seems to have worked wonders.

Tonight she was waiting for us by the front door and yowled when she spied me holding the dog leads

She seems easily pleased

The Sheep Detectives

The lisping choir in full Latin mode.

Loved it 

Today was a bit of escapism. The Sheep Detectives is an odd piece which does for sheep what Watership Down did for rabbits. In it, we join a flock of sheep living within their own rather complex and at times unfathomable rules with hero worshipped Shepherd ( Hugh Jackman) in charge. After his murder they have to come together in order to solve the mystery of whodidit, and the interaction of the characters voiced by the likes of Patrick Stewart, Bryan Cranston, Julia Lewis-Dreyfuss and Chris O Dowd proves to be much more entertaining that the activity of the more human cast, headed by Emma Thompson

Light, mostly frothy, but at times it’s very Disney emotional which bring the tears flowing when certain sheep are in trouble; it’s a kids film more enjoyed by adults , just as the novel watership Down was a children’s book for adults.

 

The Garlic Grove

 My GP ( he of the tiny hands and lovely bedside manner) gave me some good advice on Monday.

“In your two weeks I’m signing you off sick, get your confidence with your catheter.  Go out, shop. Go to the cinema, the pub walk the dogs, watch a football game outside ( he doesn’t know me very well) be active” 

So Ive done my best. Last night a doctor friend offered me a free ticket to a comedy nite at a nearby town 

It was a small crowded venue with just one toilet, and a long walk from the car park, but I coped. Coped with emptying the leg bag halfway through the evening, and coped with the pricking thoughts that things would go wrong, and someone would “know”

Today, has been a slow day. It’s cooler and wet, and after a zoom meeting with an old friend in Lancashire,  the dogs and I went to railway walkway, for them to sniff and for me to breath in the wild garlic which has firmly planted itself on the embankments nearby. 

I have another video meet later with my Sheffield pal Mike, and have bought parsnip soup for supper.

Despite the little victories, the soup, the garlic…..the chats……I feel a little subdued today 

K9

 Trelawnyd, for a such a small village of some 300 people, never ceases to surprise me. Now I see that the village will host its own Dog Show next month. 

How exciting. 

There are just six houses along my bit of the village lane and 12 dogs live here. 

So hopefully there will be a few entrants ! 

I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the dirt

My sister offered to spring clean my kitchen which triggered my innate worry that the place is a mess. Subsequently I’ve spring cleaned this morning, which was satisfying as it was exhausting. 

I’ll add to the blog when something else comes to mind

Ps. Nothing has lol

Piss Bags

 

I haven’t quite mastered the techniques of leg bag placement yet

It’s quite a skill and I’m learning. 

I’m finding mid thigh placement the best position after a near disasterous twanging of elasticated ties in Sainsbury’s car park yesterday had me scrambling down my tracki bottoms behind a collection of supermarket trolleys.

I cancelled this week’s counselling clients ( thankfully only two) not wanting a malfunction in the therapy room as I’ve already knocked open the bag’s tap by mistake and partially flooded the kitchen vinyl ( through which Roger Gayly walked)

All this is a big learning curve and I’m yet to build up sufficient confidence with each bit of equipment, even though I’ve been working with them neigh on thirty years.

The nhs system for replacement bags and other such doobies is efficient and impressive. My supplies will be delivered today and after I write this I will empty my leg bag again and take Roger out for a walk

My mind has floated back to the summer of 1992 when a selection of motley nurses and physios would regulary take a group of young men and women out from their rehab Spinal Wards to The Ledmill Nightclub.

Here we would get drunk as lords, and where the patients learned to dance in their wheelchairs as ABBA played and suddenly everyone felt young and free again after their traumas of injury.

Most of the patients would have catheter leg bags and part of rehab would be the secret emptying of said leg bags into empty beer pint glasses, in a dark corner. Many a Thursday night whole lines of warm lager  coloured drinks would magically appear at the latter parts of the evening.

Of course nurses adored the irony of skint students grabbing one of the pints “ by accident” 

Happy days

Remarkably Bright Creatures

Sally or Ann ?

My elder sister is in her late 70s and isn’t physically that robust.

But…Yesterday she called up to the village , with large bags of logs for my fire and cranberry juice for my bladder. Tomorrow she will deliver mince and potatoes ( a supper I adore) 

She’s always been the mother I never really had and watching the Netflix movie Remarkably Bright Creatures today I realised how much Sally Field’s character Tova was just like  my sister……tough, empathetic, loyal and opinionated 

The film was adorable with Alfred Molina playing the grumpy octopus Marcellous quite wonderfully 

I cried for an hour watching it. 

Go and see it……it’s a lovely watch

A thought

 According to psychology people that grew up with an absent father and an emotionally unstable mother learn to be strong too soon. 

They got used to solving everything on their own, because no one ever taught them how to face things.

They grew up learning that asking for help was a way of bothering others.

They learned to read the room before speaking , to measure their words so they would create more chaos and to smile even when they felt broken inside. 

That’s why that nowadays they find it hard to trust, hard to believe that someone could stay without hurting them. 

It’s not that they don’t want to love, it’s that they are afraid of being abandoned again. They get attached but at the same time they pull away because they can’t bare to lose someone important once more, and even if they seem cold, they are only protecting the little they have left of their heart.

Psychology says that behind those strong people they’re still awaiting the day their parents come closer to give them the warmth they’ve always been searching for. 

And no matter how hard they hide it, they truly want is to find someone to give them the peace they never had at home.