Game of Thrones

I've burnt my arse on an over bleached toilet again !
This is at least the fourth time I have done it.
Even Pavlov's dogs eventually learnt from their mistakes.
I always sit on the bowl rather than the seat....
The seat pinches me

No news Friday

Been clearing the garden for most of the day

So it's a lazy post 

Trelawnyd from the air

Being Watched at the kitchen table

After leaving her too long

Good News

I've wasted the morning by falling asleep in the arm chair and I would have stayed there if the dogs had left me alone.
Chiding myself with a brusque This won't do!  I pulled myself up by my bra straps and took the dogs out. The village was quiet in the blustery weather but I did say hello to affable Despot Jason ( sporting a sort of rock star roadie look) and Trendy Carol who was out and about in her best dayglo ski jacket ( and matching leggings)
The phone was ringing just as I returned home, it was Animal Helper Pat and she sounded joyous.
Now over the past few months Pat has effectively been going blind. A combination of macular degeneration and cataracts has forced her to give up her car and some of her independence and even small jobs such as the composition of an email had to be put on hold until one of us could go around to help.
It's been a tough time for her and she never complained once.
Not once.
I had forgotten that earlier in the week she had some last ditch cataract surgery and last night as she recuperated in front of her tv she suddenly regained her sight in one eye.
It was lovely to hear
" I can see the trees and the flowers in the garden and the back of your cottage " she shared, the happiness palpable in her voice
" I can even see the snow on the mountains !!!" 
Your heart does soar when you hear good news, I teared up at her obvious elation

When I went out to buy my tea, I bought the most colourful bunch of tulips I could find and dropped them off  before I went home
"Enjoy the colours again!" I told her

insomnia

I was assessing a new Samaritan volunteer until well past 1am this morning and it left me thoughtful and wired.
It's now 3 am and I'm still awake long after coming home.
Although I am a night owl, I hate being awake at this time. It's just not normal
Being awake at 3 am can be rather lonely.
Especially as everyone else in the house is sleeping

A few minutes ago Mary awoke, and bounced on top of me then onto the small table in front of our lounge window. She gazed into the front garden with tail raised and as I stood up I could see two badgers play fighting on the lawn.

A lovely piece of drama amid the dross....
What do u do if you can't sleep? Please share...cos I have no idea

A Ghostly Story

Last night, as the fire crackled in the wood burner, the conversation on line fell to ghostly stories.
In 1985 I experienced such a story.
Back then I was completing my first EMI placement in one of the back wards of the old Deva Asylum in Chester.
EMI used to stand for elderly mentally Infirm
For the most part the patients were all suffering from dementia. They were the bad cases, the difficult to control and the aggressive, and at night there was only myself and an enrolled nurse to care for 24 patients.
23 of the patients were ambulant and only one was bedbound and physically very unwell. He lay in a bed nearest to the dormitory door with a small office light illuminating his locker, the night nurses pulled our chairs into the corridor nearby so we could watch the goings on carefully throughout the night.
The sick patient wasn't expected to last the night, so we kept a close eye on him in between bedding down the other patients. It was around 1 am before we were able to sit in our chairs and drink our first cup of tea.
Now dealing with senile patients at night can be a tiring, thankless and never ending job. Its a constant round of toileting, bed changing, reassurance giving , and reality orientation, work set against the dark tall walls of a regency mad house
Around 4 am my co-worker donned a large woollen cape and swished off the ward for a cigarette leaving me alone in the darkened corridor and from the far corner of the dormitory I saw a figure sit up in bed suddenly. The patient, sat there for a minute or so and I could hear him muttering about something before he pulled back his blanket and started to get out of bed.
I hurried over.
"Tell that man to go away" the patient whispered pointing to the patient in the corner who was dying.
"He keeps asking me to take him home"
I was confused as the dying man had not moved a fraction since we last turned him an hour before but the other patient was convinced he was right and seemed rather indignant at having been bothered.
I settled the man back into bed after a short trip to the loo and moments later he sat up again and called out a clear "Bye Bye"
I returned to the bedside this time with the staff nurse who had just returned smelling of cigarette smoke "Who are you saying bye bye to?" she asked
" The man" the patient said clearly referring to the other patient  " he's gone through there" he added pointing to the fire door.
We bedded the patient down again and tucked warm blankets around him.
our next check of the poorly patient revealed that he had passed away peacefully only minutes before

" Look At The State Of You!"

It's started to snow here.
It's only dusting at the moment but as we walked through the village this morning a scattering of houses have already lit their fires and wood stoves and the air is heavy with woodsmoke.
I've kept our stove running all night. The cottage is warm and toasty.

Irene eating her breakfast as the snow started to settle

Yesterday I bought a set of knee pads.
They were cheap and when on, very comfortable.
I wore them all afternoon.
Now the story of these knee pads is somewhat meandering.
I've been thinking of buying some for a while, but a pair of 70 quid jeans sealed the deal.

A few weeks ago The Prof bought me the pair of jeans.
" please look after them" he pleaded " They are the only good pair you have" 
I marked them with coal dust within ten minutes.
"Look at the state of you!" The Prof sighed
This statement is a common one in the cottage.
Now in my defence, I am the one that usually does the dirty work around the place. Log burners are sooty little devils to clean, dogs jump with mucky paws and the new kitchen floor doesn't mop itself , but it's true..if there is dirt around , invariably it ends up on me......usually on my knees!
And so yesterday I bought some cheap knee pads.
I stacked the wood delivery on my knees without getting one mark on my jeans!
I cleaned and lit the fire.....spotless afterwards!
They are comfy and warm too so I ended up wearing them for most of the afternoon, including on a trip to the shops, a dog walk and a brief pop in to the vets.
Everyone should buy a pair!

Best Buy Of The Year

They cost me 4.99£

More about them tomorrow

Alone Not Lonely

My knee is never empty 

The Prof is away until Friday evening
He left with bags packed early this morning.
This happens fairly regularly....
I have been the partner at home for two decades
I have drawn the long straw here.
The initial draw of conferences in sleek hotels and dog empty beds have paled over the years .

This week, on paper I shall be alone.
Of course I won't be lonely.
I never feel lonely.
One reason for that is where ever I do a small furry body is by my side .
Occasionally it's a large furry body ( Winnie insisted that she watched me have a poo this morning) sometimes it's a limping feline body demanding food
You are never alone with an animal in the house.

I'm presently planning my week with a small Welsh terrier on my knee
I am waiting for load of logs to be delivered shortly and they will need sorting stacking and then the plumber is due to arrive to " ohhhh " and " arrhhh"  at the leaking u bend.
I've booked lunch with a friend,have earmarked two sneaky trips to the cinema and have training  to do with two new Samaritan volunteers....
The charity's mentorship is detailed and comprehensive and takes time to carry out.
Thank goodness I can make the time in this climate of volunteer fatigue.
I'm going to a local history talk on Wednesday  !
The garden needs clearing. " Bosoms" is in need of digging over and I still need to find a joiner to complete the kitchen shelving

Snippet

Normal life
I am listening to the comedian Sindhu Vee on the radio in the kitchen while waiting for the oven to heat up.
She's very funny
The Prof is in church
Before he went....it went something like this
Me: " Have you made the bed?" 
He: " no there's a small skid mark on your side"
Me : " oh"

It's Almost Back Geek Alert !!!

Melissa McBride and Norman Reedus as Carol and Daryl in The Walking Dead

Well Cameron did a grand job. All animals happy. Only Pizza, Crisps and one beer taken
And everything intact at Bwthyn y Llan!
Thank you Cameron ...we want to book you again if you are interested?

Anyhow, just about to retire to bed but just found the new promo of The Walking Dead  on YouTube I can only post this screen shot of the video  but it sure looks like everyone from Alexandria and Kindom finally reach Hilltop!
It looks awesome ! Happy days

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

The ballet Giselle, was mighty fine as we no doubt expected and as always the WILLIES provided terrific value for money. 

Now for those that perhaps don't know, the Wilis are ghosts of the dead. Spurned women from doomed love affairs who inhabit the forests of Bavaria looking for men to exact their revenge on. 

The Corps de ballet at the Royal Opera House give the Wilis a precision and the visual delight of one of the ever changing clouds of Starlings once so common in the British countryside. They literally move as one, and their veiled entrance at the beginning of act two is a theatrical delight second to non.

Anyhow enough about willies !

We stayed the night in a very comfortable hotel in Bloomsbury, where I slept all night uninterrupted by bulldog feet, terrier scratching and the Prof's early morning iPad glare. There is noting quite like a long sleep in a comfy bed. 

I dreamt I was buying hats with Sandra Bullock 

Freud sort that one out, if you please.

Anyhow , as usual I am digressing.

I share with you now the fact that my hair is thinning. 

I only noticed it the other day when I took off my beanie after 24 hours solid wear. 

I've always had thick brown hair now although still here and others may have noticed anything drastic, I have noticed it has changed perceptively 

Now it's flecked with grey and feels like the mane hair of a pony

I look like my dad.

He didn't go bald, just a bit thin and it came as a bit of a shock to realise that my usually unruly mop is turning Gently South like the rest of me.

The Prof is practically bald and wears a jaunty hat to complete is usually natty ensemble. 

I may have to stick to my beanie to keep the wolf from the door.

I'm typing this on the train home. The Prof is on the next table across, his work spread out , his laptop busy. Opposite is an Asian couple. She has just caught me looking at her husband and has given me a hard stare.

I wasn't ogling him.

I was looking at his thick black hair........

......with envy.

Lovely Wilis

I didn't sleep that well last night.
With the Prof away Winnie decided that she would leave her normal sleeping position ( poured into an Edwardian arm chair in the living room) to join me in bed.
Now, I should have known better, but once you've given a row of implausibly floppy teats a cursory and rather sleepy rub, a bulldog like Winnie will tap you constantly with a paw the size of a dinner plate until you continue.
Perhaps she knew the Prof was away. Perhaps she was just in a needy mood,, all I know is that the paw tapping only stopped after I had covered her with the bedspread and slipped a hand under her head.

I'll leave you with the arrival of the Willis from Giselle 
We shall be watching this very scene later on at Covent Garden.
I'd better scrub up well

Go On ....Hit me!

Meeting The Prof tomorrow in London
So tonight I went over the cottage sitting care plans with Cameron the teenage boffin.
I told him to help himself to anything he wanted
Gave him instructions for the wireless, tv remotes and satellite tv
And have left him some cash, beer, a massive pizza and Crisps
Now you are all going to post horror stories about leaving a teen in charge at home
Aren't you?

Miss Hauxwell

Hannah Hauxwell died a day or so ago
She was 91
When I was twelve I remember seeing one of those grainy Northern documentaries so prevalent on Yorkshire tv in the seventies which chronicled her life on an upland High Pennine farm over a bleak North Riding winter.
I remember almost falling in love with her there and then.
She was in her mid forties  and lived a life of true poverty with only her animals for company .The only water she had was from a Dale's stream, the only light from kerosene lamps and candles and when the snow was waist deep her only true warmth came from cuddling her cow in a room off her kitchen but it was her gentle sing song attitude to life and her inquisitive friendly nature that made her into an instant and rather surprising star.
" In Summer I live , In winter I exist " she said with a gentle smile and the general public fell in love with her as she struggled to survive in her fathers raincoat and oversize Wellington boots!
She was the most unlikely of celebrities.
Hannah lived all her life in that small part of County Durham and thousands of people sent her letters and money to support her frugal life after they saw the documentary......books of her life became bestsellers all over the world and four tv documentaries,( one which followed her on a surprise trip to Europe) were viewed by millions.
Hannah Hauxwell  wasn't a complainer . She got on with things and she liked people
And we loved her for it.

A Knife In The Catflap

Blogland seems to be all a bit tits up at the moment.
Tom Stephenson seems to have shot his last bolt. Ursula  is still monopolising my comment section to " debate" slights and injustices . Chloe is lurking like a bad smell around an old toilet and I'm rather nonplussed by it all.
I have been thinking about this so much so, that I think my blog entry of this morning is the most banal in Going Gently's history, a product of the sniping and upset me thinks
Thank goodness Rachel is back! Her little bit of normality - life of an  East Country artist ( and what she's having for tea) gives the community some much needed balance
I enjoy debate and banter as much as the next old queen.
I adore wisecracks ( Wanda you are the Maggie Smith of the one liner)
But I want to stress that my blog is not a forum for personal slights.

Ok ....end of lecture.

It's freezing and hailing this afternoon and I'm making bubble & Squeak .
The postman has just knocked on the lane window to pop with mail
" you have a knife stuck in your catflap!" He noticed
" I'm locking Albert in the cottage!" I told him
He went off without further clarification

Too many dirty paw prints to cope with! 

Like A Duck On A Pond

I think I understand how modern parents feel sometimes.
Its a balls in the air kind of phenomenon where on the surface the duck looks serene and in control and under the surface the webbed feet are going like the clappers.
The Prof has his own balls-in-the-air and so has no idea of the joys of animal parenthood and so the organisational nightmare of sorting a few days away is somewhat lost on him.
The Welsh Terriers have to be booked and taken into kennels (with all shots up to date) Winnie has to taken to my friend Greta's ( bulldogs being Diva dogs don't cope well with kennel incarceration) and George being the old boy has to be taken to my sister for some pampering.
Gifts have to be sorted for the dog sitters and for Animal-helper Pat who has to be asked to come to kindly feed Albert. And some grovelling is the order of the day for one of the neighbours to look after The Bachelors for the duration.
Only after this is done can The Prof and I can go off and over the Welsh Border.
At Christmas I treated The Prof to tickets to see Giselle at The Royal Opera House.and its almost time  for us to go
It's only an overnight jaunt to London but its a night to be suited and booted and child free !
So I am so happy at finding a responsible house sitter for the night in the shape of Cameron the teenage boffin.
Cameron is now eighteen going on 40. I have instructed him to eat and drink what he likes and at his insistence he is calling down to go over instructions for his stay.

gulp!

What's The Bleeding Time?

In my 35 year nursing career I must have worked with hundreds of doctors .
The majority have been a joy to work with, but some, like anyone else you have to rub along with in the workplace have been absolute shockers.
When I was a student nurse I withnessed a renowned neurosurgeon have a temper tantrum in theatre. He screamed into the face of a scrub nurse and actually threw a tray of surgical instruments onto the floor, behaviour that was not challenged at the time due to the pure shock and passive acceptance by the staff.
I would like to think that such godlike diva behaviour by such autocrats is a thing of the past, nurses generally are more assertive where medical bullying is concerned.

Yesterday I gave a villager some advice about how to get the best out of their family doctor, who they thought had rudely dismissed a problem they felt they had.
My advice ? Remember your doctor is not god. Write your questions and statements down- it makes it easier to get your points over. Take in a friend or relative with you to act as your advocate or
Speak to a practice nurse.

Years ago I was acting as a chaperone to a consultant psychiatrist who was physically examining a middle aged female patient who had a "full figure" .
The doctor was showing off to me, his audience and took it on himself to point out various physical signs of long term alcohol abuse on the patient's body.
I felt uncomfortable on behalf of the patient as the references seemed inappropriate bordering on cruel but the woman looked nonplussed by the examination and even winked at me when the consultant pointed out a " scar" on the woman's abdomen exclaiming " what a neat looking appendix scar that is!"  
Moments later , the patient leaned over and whispered to me with a grin " it's a line left by my tights!" 

A Roaring Log Fire

Thanks to Athene and Rachel

Handy Hints work !
A winter's night...blowing and cold
And a lovely warm cottage with a clean window

handy Hints

Have you a handy hint to share? I promised one commentator ,last week, that I may call for suggestions...I suspect my readers may surprise us all with a few.
I love handy hints, the real ones and  the false " funny " ones.
They all intrigue me and entertain me.
Today I followed the hint at hoovering the living room carpet with the upholstery attachment rather than with the regular brush roller attachment
And bingo ! 

Five minutes hoovering of a clean carpet!

Half a ton of shit !
Ok not entertaining but very effective!
So what are your handy hints?
They can be as practical as you like....or , like those in Viz, as wonderfully surreal! It's up to you

YOUNG mothers: Calm hysterically crying children in the supermarket by firmly slapping their legs and then tugging them along by the wrist.

PHILANDERERS: Avoid the embarrassment of shouting out the wrong name in bed by having flings only with girls who have the same name as your wife.

FOOTBALLERS: Remember there is plenty of time to get drunk after your playing career has ended.

HORSE whisperers: Speak louder. The animals will hear you more clearly, thus speeding up training times.

FEMALE shop assistants: When a garage mechanic comes to your till, add on a selection of random items they didn't know they needed and charge them s50 labour costs for the transaction.

SINGLE MEN: Fool folk into thinking you've got a girlfriend by standing outside Topshop with loads of bags

Happy Days

Snowdrops in the Churchyard this morning 

Apologies for the thumb

I nearly got my head kicked in this morning.
Not something you expect in a lane above the village at 10.30 on a Sunday morning.
Mary and I had stopped to say hello to Mrs Trellis and her greyhound Blue when a large black car, tinted windows and a throaty exhaust roared past us without slowing down.
The dogs jumped as we did, so I gave one of those very British open palmed shoulder shrugs and the car reached the top of the hill in front of us, in order to say " thanks for slowing down"
The car stopped for a long moment
And as Mrs Trellis gulped a large gorilla-sized man got out to stare at us.
" what are you effing looking at? " the gorilla bellowed furiously
" You didn't slow down and your exhaust scared the dogs!" I countered not unreasonably
" You were in the middle of the fucking road!" the man shouted waving his arms
There was no point arguing as patiently were couldn't have been in the middle of the lane as he had passed us easily.
Mrs Trellis' bobble hat twitched nervously
There was a stand off silence for a few moments as the aggrieved gorilla thought about what to do, and eventually he got into his car to drive off, only then did I conceded to myself that we were lucky. Luckily a silly stare could have landed me into hospital.
When I was on ITU I remember having a conversation with a police officer who told me that cocaine use was rife in North Wales. Cocaine, methamphetamine, amphetamine and steroids all stimulate the user into violent rages and aggression and they are drugs of choice by more people that I could shake a stick at. " Normal people like yourself have no idea just how common drug taking is " I remember the policeman saying " would you think of cocaine at breakfast time with your sugar puffs? They would " He added cheerfully
We have a brave new world.
I'm not saying that the gorilla in the lane had taken drugs...perhaps he had...whose to know.....more likely he was just an angry person upset that a middle aged dog walker had looked at him "in the wrong sort of way" a look which he had caught in his rear view mirror .