Scotch Eggs, gifts and a fat Cheerful Virgin Mary

I did indeed sleep most of Christmas Eve.

Dorothy attached herself to me like a limpet and watched me snore for the longest of times with wide worried eyes. 

Since Winifred died, she has never left my side and her increased neediness has proven difficult as her relations with Mary are now more strained and increasingly volatile. 

Of course this will eventually settle down

But her increased sadness is worrying.

Like I said we slept most of Christmas Eve.

It was odd not to be organising food, wrapping gifts, listening to the ever depressing Carol’s from Kings or delivering last minute gifts.

And by the time afternoon came there was a little shrine of gifts dotted around the kitchen wall, back door and front door knob.

A cheerful bag with goodies in the the affable despot family. Mince Pies from Hattie, two bespoke scotch eggs wrapped beautifully by the Camerons, books from Wendy & Alun and an unsigned rubber chicken from Aldi with a label which said “ I saw this and thought of You !” on it.

I ate one Scotch egg whilst watching  Disney’s Moana, took a lovely phone call from Anne Marie in Philly then dozed a bit more before walking the dogs again and leaving for work.

I caught Tesco’s in Llandudno Junction just before they closed with alongside panicked husbands looking for non utilitarian gifts for their wives , I ran around and bought four bags of  party food. 

The ward manager hadn’t organised food for the nursing staff over Christmas so I took it on myself to get some..... (a product of years of doing it myself in Sheffield ) and so with a willing support worker in tow, I assembled the tables with covid appropriate foods ( small individual packets and bottles and tubs) all ready for the day staff to enjoy.

Christmas isn’t Christmas on a ward unless you have a food laden table draped with sheets secreted away in a side room for the nurses to nibble on between tasks.

My straight colleague zoned into his inner gay side by arranging swathes of holly into vases for decoration

I was rather impressed

 

We booked another take away for supper ( this time an Indian) and shared it again with the patient who enjoyed yesterday’s Chinese. Then we FaceTimed an ex colleague who was working in the next hospice along the coast and laughed a little 

It was Christmas Day before we knew it.

In between nursing jobs, I labelled some tins of gin and tonic for the day staff and wrapped a few gifts of my own.it was then I remembered Mrs Trellis.

On the way to work I spied her on London road her head down against the cold dark wind. Her bobble hat sticking out defiantly ahead of her

She was heading for the cottage

I stopped the car and she dropped a gift, through the window and onto the passenger seat with all of the aseptic technique remembered by the retired midwife .

The gift was wrapped a green felt and was tied with garden twine fashioned  into a bow 

“ You always giggled at Christine Davis bringing in the baby Jesus” she said in way of explanation

And as I drove away I remembered  all too clearly being in fits of giggles when Rector Robert commanded rather  theatrically for Christine the Church Warden to “ Bring In The Baby Jesus !”

The small figure , being transported in an upturned palm towards the nativity scene laid out before the pulpit.

The Christmas Eve carol service with nativity was an old tradition I always went to in Trelawnyd.

Last night the Church looked old  and cold and lonely.

As did Mrs Trellis 

and I wished I would have thanked her more when I finally got around to opening her gift from my place behind the nurses station .

For wrapped in tissue paper inside the green felt was a rather naivé but charming Baby Jesus alongside a plump and cheerful Virgin Mary, splendid in blue.