Fish & Chips

 When I was a child fish & Chips were a treat.

Sometimes they were bought out of necessity as when for whatever reason my mother was not able to cook 

Rarely they were bought as a planned meal

But covered in vinegar and smothered in salt, they were always a welcomed change from my mother’s bland cooking.

On impulse I bought fish and chips for supper last night.

It was from the chips and kebab house in the next village, the one that got fined for dreadful hygiene.

I remember Boffin Cameron writing ebulliently in the comments of the paper that it wouldn’t stop him going 

Funny what you remember eh.

Anyhow I haven’t eaten fish and chips for over three and a half years, so I had to buy some vinegar to douse the meal properly

It was lovely, with the girls snapping up the fatty bits of batter from my fingers and Albert carefully taking the fish from the window ledge out of reach.

Red Nose Day

 Blast from the past tonight.

Friday night, Comic Relief ,bottle of white ,massive  big tears, 

And A fish and Chip Supper 

( I haven’t had one for over three and a half years) 

After the high of yesterday…………

Comes the fall 

Warm enough for a bare Arse

The weather has dictated the pace of the day and in the spring weather I’ve planted out delicate looking violas, cheerful Bellis, and primulas of firework yellow and cream.

The work is easy, and the sun has warmed the South facing front garden so the soil isn’t chilled.

“When the soil is warm enough to accommodate a bare arse, then it’s ok to plant out”

Meirion Ellis gave me that bit of advice when I ran the flower show 

I always add a hour or so on gardening in the front, as passers by tend to stop and chat.

Mr Poznań discussed the Ukraine and Della chatted about retirement, Nick from Well Street chatted about blood tests and Louenna ( Gentlemen Farmer Ralph’s widow) reminded me it was the anniversary of her husband’s death and remained ever graceful and poised. 

Old Trefor ambled past cheerfully, his ninety seven year old knees in better shape than mine

I replaced the hanging basket by the front door which is filled with healthy sea Pinks and watered in the bulbs and flowers that guard the path.

The postman has just been, he saw Mary bristling at the gate and refused to come any further. He dropped me off a new knife rack, I had treated myself to for my sushi work and a Korean monster movie dvd The Host.

Mandy from next door has just marched up the lane and Irene has bleated at her from the livery stable fields, demanding bread crusts. 

I can hear Pheasants panic from down the Felin and from somewhere across the fields a woodpecker is hammering.
 

Serendipity Number 5

 

I don’t make it any secret that sometimes I find full time work tiring. 

The work itself, isn’t a problem for me, but runs of 12 hour shifts are, and even though I need the money, I  also need to balance work, money and home.

Today I was informed by the hospice that the nursing staff are to be given a rise in pay. 

We are currently paid substantially less than equivalent grades in the NHS Trust and in a bid to attract and retain staff the hospice has addressed this deficit. 

My increase of pay is robust and will be  backdated and unexpectedly it will now be possible for me to reduce my hours and to work part time.

How fucking fantastic is that? 

I met a friend today for lunch and we talked about this new gift of serendipity as we walked on the beautiful West Shore in Llandudno.

This is the fifth financial “gift” I have received in the last few years and the extent of my good fortune is not lost on me. 

I am so pleased.

We celebrated with coffee and bagels and cake

And I treated myself to  a ceramic curlew from the Mostyn Gallery Shop

When I got home, I found out that the fourth piece of serendipity had finally reared it’s head too…. My tax free lump sum arrived in my bank account from my unremembered pension ….I can now afford my new bathroom !

And work can now commence

Old Tom

 

Albert is not a cuddly cat

He has never sat on my knee.

He has never slept curled up next to me in bed.

He is aloof and remains very much a supporting actor in the everyday life of the cottage but just occasionally he will have a sudden rush of the affections and will rub heads energetically, like he did this afternoon as I was reading a book.

He’s fourteen years old 

A good age for a cat 

I didn’t realise that he was quite so old.

He purred as we head butted each other and for the very first time in fourteen years he let me kiss him gently on the cheek.

What Day Is It?

 

After four 12 hour shifts I’m aching today and it’s taking me longer than usual to get going

It’s midday and I am still sat at the kitchen table after a walk, nursing a coffee and thinking of what to write.

It’s not quite a spring day yet, but I’ve opened the cottage windows wide to freshen the place.

I’m glad I have a jumper on.

I’ve got necessary paperwork to do but for the past hour have been watching YouTube videos and reading texts from my nephew who is excited at the prospect of having his first date very soon.

We have a new postman who mistakenly pushed the letters through the letterbox instead of the clearly labelled plastic box by the front door.

I could hear him swearing after Mary nipped his fingers.

The workmen who are titillating the monstrous new cottage behind me are blaring out Lady GaGa hits which I don’t mind much

Mrs Trellis left a Snickers bar on the kitchen wall wrapped in a red napkin.

She must have left it days ago as the napkin is sodden.

The daffodils have suddenly appeared onto of the field wall.

They had been planted there by Trendy Carol over a decade ago

And are mature and bunching up nicely

No choir tonight, four of the sopranos have covid 

After Love

 

Twenty five thousand people in the UK have officially said that they would support a Ukrainian person in their own homes. 

And that is in three hours. 

No matter the cynicism, or the red tape, or the potential problems that can be thrown into the melting pot .

It’s an impressive number.

I listened to this news as I was driving home on an extra long diversion on the dreaded A 55

As I zigzagged through country roads with barn owls swooping over the hedge tops nearby.

I also heard the news that welsh actress Joanna Scanlon won the BAFTA for best actress for After Love

I wanted to Twitter her a congratulation message but couldn’t find her when I got home

I was made up for her.

Lovely days off now.

Crufts

 

I caught the very end of Crufts when I got home tonight. A flat coat retriever won with the cutest of owners.

I was looking at him more than the dog .

I’m now watching a sort of exploitative documentary into the exploitative reality Jeremy Kyle Show.

I’m lazy

Mary doesn’t watch dogs on tv , so fell asleep

Dorothy is busy with my feet