Mother’s Bladder

 There is nothing more entertaining than a public row between partners

I’ve just been following a middle aged couple around Sainsbury’s and was privy to the best line of the morning when she turned to him and hissed loudly

“ Graham If you mention your mother’s cancerous bladder one more time I swear I will bloody swing for you” 

That one sentence paints a myriad of storylines just there.

I feel a bit more energised today, still snotty and coughing but I’m covid negative for a second day and have already taken a neighbour for a blood test, walked the dogs and done the shopping. 

I’m back working tonight but will make sure I have a good sleep this afternoon.

My tickets to the folk festival starting on Friday in the village came today. Chic Eleanor is accompanying me

Mini film

I caught this video earlier

And I thought it was an unexpectedly powerful piece of film making

Albeit in tictok form

 

Sunday 5 am

 I know it’s very early. 

Somewhere just past 5 am

I’m way past sleep and am breathless 

Since covid I’ve not been able to breathe through my nose much.

I get up and make coffee

The pleasure of the smell of percolating coffee still gone. 

And I sit in the living room in silence with only the sound of the wind for company. 

And look around at things 

The knot of houseplants in the window. 

A sketch of an Italian Villa on the wall. 

Coats hanging by the stairs.

Thumb sticks in the umbrella stand.

Stuff.

Barefoot I walk out into the garden, my head bowing under the fragrant free honeysuckle

The wind is loud but I can still hear the bickering crows around the pond to the East

The Wisteria around the gate arch is doing well but won’t bloom for a couple more years yet.

I wonder what those few years will bring

It’s been a long lonely week 

Albert appears 

Looking surprised as always. 

He’s annoyed by something and swishes his tale

I drink my tasteless coffee

And shiver.

Sunday morning.

And no plan for the day.

As yet

Kitchen table, stronger coffee.

The covid swab today is negative

Fucking finally…….

Spend spend spend

 

It’s all too easy to spend money when isolating 

Amazon has delivered several packages today as have Argos and John Lewis 

Did I need everything on the list, 

Of course not, but it passes the time 

1 air fryer

2 novels, 

A beard trimmer,

A dog lead,

A soup bowl/ cup 

A floor mop,

A duvet cover

Sushi ingredients and chop sticks,

A Chinese zombie rat dvd Rat Train,

A fountain pen and ink

Still isolating , covid test remains positive

Blue Frog

 Mrs Trellis has just left me the best of gifts on the kitchen wall .

It’s a plastic blue frog with his mouth open , wrapped in one of her ubiquitous red napkins.

The message, on yellow writing paper with it read simply “ Get Well Soon” and just in case I missed it , she has just left me a message on my answerphone saying that she had visited 

Well she left two actually ..

The message ended with “ He reminded me of you !” 

He’s a cheerful soul….

And I’ve placed him in my planter housing yellow daisies

He’s a water feeder ! 

 I’m just going to bed ( it’s 9.30pm) and Albert is licking the contents out of Dorothy’s Ears

It’s all go 

Haunted

My routine is piss boring . 

In bed by eleven. Walking dogs around 7 am and sleep in until well after 11 am

Half the day gone in sleep.

My covid swab remains positive.

Let’s change the subject.

There is an image that seems to be living rent free in my head today. 

It is the haunted and frightened face of Kelly Holmes as she discussed coming out as gay woman on the tv programme This Morning. 

I didn’t watch the interview , nor did I need to Holmes’ motivation in choosing the medium she did, but I was struck by the fear in her face. 

Pure, unadulterated fear.

No one should experience such terrible emotion 

No one. 

And to sit alone on that studio couch seemed so wrong to me.

There’s nothing more flitting around in my head today. I haven’t the concentration for a book.

I’ve cleaned out the kitchen flotsam drawer and watered the planters 

The colours in the garden borders look cheerful 

Covid Week

 

I lost it with the neighbour’s Charlie this morning and shouted across the gardens like a loon

“ Will you shut that fucking dog up ?” 

A pure case of transference , but it has worked for a hour or so.

I’m still symptomatic of covid, and unfortunately it’s been a rather difficult week. I’m still breathless at times even though I’ve spent what feels like hours in a hot shower and under tea towelled menthol infusions .

Nights have proved to be especially difficult .

I can only liken the sensation to be breathing through a rigid and very long tube which is hardened with secretions like amber, where coughs have not the power of the ability to make things clearer.

By rights any ordinary virus would have broken by now into its snotty stage, but my secretions remain like toffee, and I am tired all of the time as well as headachy. 

Occupational health hold me to re LFT test today and tomorrow 

Today’s positive test flashed up in seconds 

And so I’m still isolating .

Ma Manley at the Still House left me some covid tests out this morning as I had run out. 

After I had collected them Mr Poznan cheerfully popped his head in through the passenger door window to say hello and got a shriek of “ Ive got covid!!!” in return .

He’s got a terribly weak heart and looked rather grey after I had bellowed at him.,

Bless him.

This is all a bit tiresome

But I know I’m one of the lucky ones

Sainsbury’s have delivered my food and the sun is shining 

It could have been a whole lot worse.

Bum Test and Roger The Dog

 

Yesterday the new postman left a small package through the open living room window.

“ It’s Your Bum Test !”he informed me cheerfully

He was right. It was my faecal screening test all 60 year olds receive in Wales to test for colon cancer

I’m looking at the test now, as I’m eating a banana that could in fact be a dry tampon for all the taste it’s given me. 

I’ve slept the majority of the day again today and have eaten just one packet of crisps and the said banana

I still have a headache and remain wheezy and breathless but my temperature is not as high as it was yesterday. I still feel unwell , which is irritating .

I heard from Susan, Mary’s breeder today. I have always been in touch since we bought Finlay from her back in 2002 and six welsh and Scottish terriers later we continue to correspond, albeit sporadically . 

A prickly and at times incredibly straight talking woman, I have always been touched that Susan rather likes me, but like me she does 

She trusts me with her beloved dogs, that I know.

Before lockdown I contacted Susan  regarding a new Welsh terrier, seeing that Mary is well over seven now and she was sad and apologetic. The soaring prices of puppies troubled her and at that time she had no plans to breed.

I understood her sadness, the silly prices of puppies probably sickened her 

Today , when I emailed her, I was surprised by her news.

She had the perfect puppy for me , well a choice out of two of different ages and both within my realistic budget .

And in a few weeks time , when things have settled down, a “good natured and benign”  Roger will be joining the ranks at Bwthyn y Llan 

Thank Fuck For The Vaccine

I’ve eaten my words today. 

Thank goodness I didn’t get to Rome suffering from covid 

I’ve spent most of the last 48 hours in bed. 

35 degrees with a bad chest could have been lethal. 

I’m mindful of my place in the covid demographic, 

It’s sobering

It wasn’t meant to be , I’m sorry Rachel .

I got up early this morning , put broad beans, a little chilli, garlic, ginger and stock into the slow cooker and after walking the dogs went back to bed. 

And apart from toilet stops there I have stayed until 9 pm.

The soup was like eating gruel, so I gave up

Late to the party I’ve  completely lost my sense of taste and smell too.

The girls and Albert followed me around the garden as it was getting dusk and watched me carefully as I cut long blooms from the leggy Nepeta by the gate. I collected a nice bunch which  I put into a glass of water  and placed it on the fire mantle. 

That about finished me off,

Even that small exertion made me feel breathless 

And tired

Which is sobering again 

Thank fuck for the vaccine 

I feel Shit

 

Sod’s law ….

Rent Free In Your Head

 I hate it when people say something “ wasn’t meant to be” if a plan doesn’t come off 

Of course it was meant to happen.

It just didn’t .

I’m full of the first proper cold I’ve experienced in three years.and so yesterday I licked my disappointed wounds mostly in bed, with vicks rubbed on the soles of my feet and slept most of the day and all of the night. 

My sister, Janet called up this morning and completed my birthday garden makeover. She observed that my chest cold couldn’t have done well in the 35 degree heat and fumes of central Rome and she was right of course. 

I’m wheezing like a fat walrus.

I made a spicy katsu curry with salmon and coconut cream and tidied the cottage as it simmered with lashings of coriander . The neighbours commented on the lovely smell.

I couldn’t eat it when it was cooked

More lemon water for me

My friend Ruth sent me a photo of her minuscule static caravan toilet in a successful effort to lighten the mood. The toilet was so small that I had to back into it slowly like an articulated lorry backing down an ally and when one of Ruth’s Findhorn friends asked how I was coping with the rather “rustic” arrangements I kind of shocked her by describing using the loo as 

“ lowering a family sized jelly onto an eggcup”

I will leave you with that visual