Hattie & Mary

 Animals have friendships just as humans do

Mary and Hattie are a perfect example of this 

Hattie, as you may remember is the young nurse who used to live in the village by the old post office.

She energetically threw herself into every social activity going. Singing in the community choir, supporting the Women’s Institute and being one of the street wardens during covid as well as being my Church bell co ringer when people used to clap for nurses and every week she used to take Mary out for a long walk and a cuddle.

Hattie and I at the Folk Weekend in the Hall

During lockdown she and her boyfriend moved to the next village in a new build where they’ve had Baby Freya and her absence and cheerfulness has been greatly missed .

Mary hasn’t seen her friend for a year now and went absolutely mental when Hattie leant over the kitchen wall yesterday afternoon to say hello.

Very gently she sniffed at Freya and joyfully joined the family for a long walk, her tale whirling like a helicopter as they made their way down the lanes to the West.

What was that Scarlett ?

After All Tomorrow is another day…..

 It’s a beautiful sunny day here in Trelawnyd .I’ve moved my little blue table into the front garden to get away from the yapping dogs in the new build and am enjoying Almond Coffee eggs, and hot hot buttered toast -  with my own butter.

I’m ok . 

Yesterday I bought a new lamp for the living room and in a fit of middle aged gay frenzy bought a whole set of plain black accessories for  the new bathroom which will be mostly white with black trim.

I also bought a couple of zombie movies, one of which Infection wasn’t a half bad version even though it had been banned for showing in its native Venezuela.

I binged the movies , ate sushi from the sushi shop outside chester and drank too much gin last night.

Like I said, I’m ok . 

I emailed my ex husband too and wished him and his fiancé well.

The village is busy this morning. There is a coffee morning in the Hall and the shenanigans between the Community Council and the Community Association over the future of the hall seems to be quietening somewhat so I hope the recent discourse is approaching its end. 

There was some talk of it at the shop which now seems to the hub of informal meetings .

On the way back I spied The Velvet Voiced Linda , crossing the road by the hall, bunches of flowers in hand to decorate the tables.

She waved and beamed her big smile.

Affable Despot Jason has just stopped , he’s out walking with Liv and his dogs and took  the piss out of my Italian coffee pot and obvious pretensions 

No brexit here , I told him.

It was nice to see him

Hattie and her new baby are calling up later to pick Mary up for a walk,

My friend Nigel is calling for a chat at 2pm

I’m on nights later 

It’s a nice day x

Friday

 

Dear Diary, 

Nu has just rung. Her fractured wrist is worse than it originally looked which is a pisser..

We talked and laughed as we always do but I could tell she had something else to talk about.

She told me that she had heard that the Prof was getting married again.

Strangely, and from nowhere, I had already felt that this was on the cards 

But I suddenly couldn’t speak and felt as though I had been punched in the face.

I hung up and burst into tears.

It’s a lovely spring day again, and I’d planned to see a Danish Romantic comedy at the Storyhouse. 

I think I’ll take a miss on that one now.

The girls have found rabbit smells in the garden and are frantically following trails

I think I will do some shopping later, I need a new lamp for the living room

Hey ho

Exciting

 By the time my little bathroom man was talking about spot lights, I was almost beside myself with excitement. Looking at heated towel rails and I was ( as Miriam Margolyes said on the Graham Norton show) Creaming in my knickers.

The excitement was catching and Dorothy galloped upstairs and peed on the hall carpet.

I am so excited that at the grand old age of 59 , I’m getting my first bespoke and totally desirable bathroom.

Work starts in around 6 weeks.

He’s looking at sorting out the office too but was confused when I referred to it being in the west wing

It was dusk when the dogs and I walked my little man back to his car and ambling back down the lane I looked at my cottage with it’s interior all warm with the glow of lamplight and fire and I felt proud and happy.

The fairy lights , my sister hung above the patio , glinted cheerfully and the newly tidied garden looked ordered and charming as a newly washed and buffed Bluebell stood guard behind.

I am so happy

X

Butter

I’m waiting for my sister to arrive to sort the garden out.

It’s a beautiful spring day.

I’m also resting my forearm over a proper coffee .

I’ve just made my first pat of butter

Korean spiced, and salted and ………small…..but perky.

It tastes bloody lovely 

My little bathroom man comes later……

Guess Who

I’m home late today

I’ve noted that yesterday’s underpants being tractor bashed in the lane  led to much hilarity amongst some of you, readers. who probably enjoy rather filthy schoolboy humour 

I will leave you with a story which matches it .

Now my first male partner Philip was a man not known for his sense of humour , but once he did something that did indeed make me guffaw long and hard.

After playing badminton with my best friend , I once came to my Philip’s home for a shower.

Unfortunately( for me) I left my undergarments on the floor of his bathroom and also unfortunately ( for me) said garments had a rather robust sweat/ skid mark for all to see.

Unbeknownst to me, Philip photographed the underpants with a helpful finger pointing directly  to skid mark and on line made the photo into a rather impressive and colour enhanced postcard.  

The postcard was then posted first class post to the ward staff on the hospital ward I ran at the time

On it was the simple comment 

Guess Who ? 

Are They Your Underpants?

Covid numbers within the choir seems worryingly high and with only ten able to meet tonight ,  choir practice has been cancelled. 

I’m pondering my day, sat at the kitchen table.

This afternoon I’m at film studies, picking On The Waterfront to pieces 

The rest of the day is free.

The cottage smells of peas.

The slow cooker has been warming pea soup all night. I’ve made sourdough bread and have just bought a Kilner butter maker on line which means the guilty pleasure of homemade salted herb butter…..

“Are these your underpants ?”

That was Heulwen calling over the kitchen wall.

It’s breezy and a pair had caught the wind and had left the box hedge where it had been drying 

They lay in the lane, flattened by a tractor wheel

She’s sad that choir has been cancelled tonight too.

We chatted for a long time.

It’s sunny but a little too cold in the shade.

Obese Camel et al….

 While my sisters threw and painted their own creations at pottery , I got on with painting my old creations before glazing. 

The finished articles will look rather different but I’ve gone pastel for my hilly letter rack and desert coloured for my obese camel .

Janet, is a true talent , this is her beach hut 

Next week I start my chess set

I’m back on the diet and am trying just a veg Korean detox.

I’ll start again tomorrow 

Sister Ann brought me a lamb casserole tonight

So today’s T shirt is a lie

Tee hee

A Bobble Hat As Tall As A Bishop’s Mitre

 

It was just after four I think when the tolling Church bell woke me up

I felt disorientated for a while and lay there thinking of why it was doing so.

It took me a while to remember it was the Church’s last day as a functioning Church and that the last service was perhaps coinciding with the bell ringing of St Paul’s and other Churches across the country in support of Ukraine.

The congregation was small given that  the Bishop was officiating , but I wasn’t surprised given the fact that he had not supported that the Church be given Pilgrim Status as we had requested.

A lot of the those supporters had kept away.

I only know this because I checked St Michael’s page of Facebook

Mrs Trellis was there though , her bobble hat erect as always.

It was almost as tall as the Bishop’s Mitre

Bathroom

I am clear in my mind what I want out of my new bathroom

Plain, clean and white

White with subway tiles and a single black border.

My “ Little man” promised me that he’s popping over next week with some glossy brochures for me to peruse but I have what I want very much in mind 

My bathroom is tiny ( 6x5 ), so it’s Art Deco tiles , all in white with a single black line in trim

Not sure yet about the floor, so any ideas would be gratefully received 

On nights again, but just two this week.

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

Weak sun

The sun is weak today and the village feels cold. 

Everything feels a bit cold today.

Chic Eleanor messaged, asking me to the cinema tonight. 

I’ve refused as I don’t really feel up to it tonight. 

Yesterday I worked alongside a Finnish Doctor in dealing with a family who are hurting badly.

I took the lead in the interaction, which felt the right thing to do and in our debrief the doctor thanked me.

She told me how well the session was handled and the validation buoyed me up during a challenging day.

Before the interview I took my mask off, which surprised her too.

I weighed up the need to communicate well in that particular session with any other “risks”

Communication with others, especially written communication, is effectively masked sometimes. Meanings and intentions can be misconstrued or lost or inferred especially on blogs, in emails and in messages and texts.

And I don’t need or want to react to that, certainly on days like today when the sun shines weakly and there’s a coolness to the air.

I love my job, I love my “little” world but I am aware that sometimes I’m running on a tank two thirds empty. That doesn’t mean the challenges of work shouldn’t be there……of course they should 

But today, at home, instead of the good book , I want to start reading, or that film I would like to watch or that friend I could laugh and talk with…or indeed that kitchen floor I could mop at or those beautiful cyclamens that need potting out ….

…….all I want to do is to have my hair stroked gently as I lie on the trendy blue couch 

Listening to the crackles of the fire and the moan of the wind.

 

Let it go

The way they all fall silent to listen is wonderful