The hospice has kindly let me off on Thursdays so I can see my own clients. I saw my first client for the second time this morning and had my usual self debrief over a coffee in the car afterwards, with the window open and with rain on my face.
There is a beach at Abergele, where I park up. Apparently it’s a notorious doggers beach but during the day, thank the lord there is not a heaving buttock to be spied .
So I made my mental notes and relaxed.

Last night Chic Eleanor and I went to see Constellations at Theatre Clwyd. 
This reboot of Nick Payne’s 2012 play is a love story where physicist Marieanne ( Gwenllian Higginson) meets Bee keeper Roland( Aled Pugh) and they  act out brief repeated scenes from a whole series of possible relationship scenarios, with the outcome changed each time.
It’s a rather wonderful piece , that generates its own rhythm  and in one moment the actors lapse into Welsh, which is an nod to the performance in a week or so’s time which will set entirely in Welsh .

The cottage felt cold and unloved when I got home. So I went straight out again, walked the dogs and stopped by the shop to buy logs and some cheerful Ice cream. The cheap vanilla stuff, you used to love as a kid.
On my return the log burner was soon lit and as I ate the ice cream ( so slowly so it turned slightly frothy) I packed my bag for Madrid 

Mucho Gusto

It’s been a busy day culminating in a cracking theatre production at Theatre Clwyd. I’ll report on that tomorrow. I’ve had supervision and explored some old memories from my psychiatric days which surprised me. And I’ve booked a car and driver from Madrid airport to my hotel for peanuts. Remember it’s my first jaunt abroad alone since my aborted trip to Rome , and I’m mindful that led to a thwarted visit to A&E

Am I nervous at travelling alone ? 

I am …..but I feel it needs to be done

You ve Got A Look Of Eva Braun

My laburnum has flowered.
In fact it’s bloomed. 
I went to visit it this morning 
It’s sturdy and straight and looks very well and healthy 
I’m pleased 

I’ve tried to change my GP practice today too.
I make no beans that I have a poor relationship with my doctor, but I didn’t want that fact broadcasted around a doctor’s waiting in hushed tones I tried to discuss this with the surgery reception I want to join. 
It was like pulling teeth with two of the staff acting as the stereotypes so much discussed on longline mumsnet and the like.
I was reminded of one of the last put downs on Victoria wood’s Canteen Sketch and could quite easily have countered the unhelpful passive aggressive apathy I received with a pithy “ Youve got a look of Eva Braun?”

 It’s Nu’s birthday today.
I usually send her flowers from Bloom & Wild but she’s away.
I’m in the middle of plan B, which getting her a theatre ticket, like me she loves most mainstream stuff  but unlike me loathes musicals
It’s left me with a few choices.

I called in to The Velvet Voiced Linda and her hubby Nick for coffee too. They laugh long and hard 
And I like that .

I haven’t done a lot today, but it feels as though I have

Monday Jobs

Janet has come to do the garden so I did shopping and had a shower. Janet tried to teach Roger how to jump into her arms but he couldn’t quite grasp the concept.

No more work for over 8 days.
It’s our birthday on the 1st and the family, eight of us, are going out for a meal to La Richetta  Usually I play the martyr and work, but not this year, it serves no one to do so, and so I’ve booked the weekend off, planning a jaunt to Liverpool with friends on the Friday and movie and a Japanese lunch on the Sunday. 
All about My Mother is the film, it’s considered an old classic now 
It’s a cracker

Mrs Trellis and Blue stopped to say hello. 
She’s planning to enter veg in the show 


 There is a memorial for old Trevor this afternoon in the memorial Hall. It would have been his 100th birthday. His family has organised the event 
I will go if I manage to sleep for a few hours this morning . Night shifts don’t half cut into what you can and cannot do, and the older I get the less my reserves cope.
All the judges have confirmed that they will be attending the Flower Show  this year. We have some lovely  judges all told. Debbie was a stalwart of the Prestatyn Flower Show and knows her onions. She is diligent and helpful and joins in with the fun. She also looks the part, often wearing summer frocks and a cheerful straw hat for the judging day. 
Mrs Cooke is another good egg. She marks the cookery ( what else) and if she can’t make it her daughter ( another mini me  qualified judge) jumps into the breech. 
Meirion Jones from the village has accepted the tough remit of Flower Judge for the second year. His garden is the unarguable beauty in Trelawnyd and has to be seen to be believed, but he hides his talents under a Bushel and I had to do some crawling to get him to agree to come.
I’ve recruited Eirlys from the Marion and jo ( she of the three legged whippet fame) to act as judges chaperones. Village Leader Ian usually goes around with the cookery judge so he can lick her spoons.

And so dear reader before I can sneak off to bed , you can see that I’ve won an award from the lisping Spanish Choir and has been recognised as one of their top fans
Canta con todo tu cortazon


 For me, the overall positive experience of developing my awareness of self , it to feel authentic. Nearly 62 years on this planet has allowed a myriad of bad habits, and unproductive , useless behaviours to cloud what I am and how I see myself, and others. 
Things are complicated, they are bound to be.

And being authentic is hard

I’m better at saying no without trying to justify and people please
I’m better at being kind, where kindness is what I want from others
And I’m better in allowing  myself to revisit a hurt but not to pick that feeling up raw with both hands as I once would have done.

Yesterday was a case in point . An email from my ex husband , some background information I needed to know on my nephew’s upcoming visit. Usually something like this would elicit a whole set of feelings and behaviours and would have me spiralling away down rabbit holes of being grateful for contact, that needy victim, so to speak . 
The email , was just an email, and I could smile at that fact and be kind to myself that seeing his words in print could still remind me that I love him.

Another person, elsewhere,  was rude to me and I called that out, politely and, in my mind appropriately and when the reply wasn’t exactly what I wanted, I walked away without feeling bad or angry in any way.
It’s all a work in progress.
We all are

Am I authentic? ….Blah! 
Well if I sit here and allow myself to gallop over old turf I’m not
I’m on nights tonight and I’m going to open the cottage windows wide to the sun and give the place a bloody good clean.

Friday night

 The lisping choir does it again. Love the look on Silvia’s face
Long day at work today 
The blackbird mother has left her nest by the front door
Which is sad

A Gift From Mrs Smith From Herefordshire

It’s a small world 
Mrs Smith from rural Herefordshire was in London last week. 
In between French Fancies at Fortnum’s and a quick look at the tweeds at Burlington Arcade she ventured down the South Bank to peruse the books and fell in love with this ladybird book on the Honey bee
Inside carefully written in pencil was my name , written as a child would write it 
Strange as it may seem….

I did write it

I was around seven years old