The Führer's Penis

The hardest thing to do on intensive care is to care for a patient who is confused and desperately ill. 

They often seesaw precariously on the very edge of sudden and often disastrous  deterioration because they do not understand the need to comply with medical and nursing treatments. 

I looked after such a patient yesterday. 

I was somewhat fraught after 13 hours of it. 

Driving home , I thought of all of those unpaid carers in this country who deal day in day out with their confused and disorientated loved ones at home. Work which often has limited or no respite, and which may carry on for years and years and years. 

Thirteen hours of it, doesn't sound at all bad eh?

When I was a student nurse in psychiatry, I took an elderly lady called Jean out Christmas Shopping in Chester. 

She had schizophrenia and early onset dementia and although physically fit, she remained muddled and disorientated for most of the time.

We ended up in Browns of Chester which was the flagship department store in the city at the time and as we walked through the make up department we were approached by one of those plastic looking salesgirls who was offering " squirts" of perfume for ladies to trial.

" Would madam like to try?" The plastic woman said with a plastic smile

And Jean duly held out her wrist for a tester.

I watched her reaction carefully.

Jean took a sniff of the scent and nodded that she liked it, so.., sensing a sale the plastic woman moved in for the kill.

Jean then smiled a sweet smile and beckoned the woman forward and whispered the following statement in her ear

" I knew Hitler you know, he had a massively HUGE COCK,! "

I'll leave you with a big up of the Village Christmas Fayre which takes place in the Memorial Hall on Saturday.....hope everyone can make it

Hey Ho again

Shite day at work.
Came home to a stressed Prof who couldnt quite sort the smoking fire out!
Walked dogs
Ate tea,
Watched the sweet Lisa Snowdon getting kicked out of the get me out of here

That almost rhymed 

Royal Arse

After sorting out the valve system on the radiators I was just getting all testosterone and full of myself when the council  bin men lorry pulled up outside the cottage and one of the hairy arsed bin men knocked loudly on the front door .
I was half expecting them to be in a pissy mood after all I had left half a ton of plumber's packaging and bin bags out for collection but the binman wasn't bothered about the rubbish, he was more upset than anything
" One of your birds has smashed into our van" he told me
Apparently they had just turned the corner at the bottom of the lane when " a soddin massive black bird" had appeared from nowhere and had bounced on the roof of their refuse lorry, just above the windscreen.
The bird then " shat" down the windscreen ( probably in shock) then bounced into the hedge.
" It's still alive" the binman told me " it was hissing at us"
" It's probably Camilla Parker Bowles "I told him " She's a crap flyer"
The binman looked confused.

I could have done without another little drama. I was still getting used to the heating system more complicated than the average ITU ventilator and had already fixed a leaking radiator single handed a few minutes before, so with slightly heavy and irritated heart I followed the binman down the lane to where his three colleagues were peering into the hedge.
" It's in there" one man chirped up pointing to a goose sized hole in the hedge
I looked in and sure enough Camilla looked back at me with her big black solemn eyes.
As I reached in and picked her up, the binman who had knocked on the door turned to his friends and said" her name is Camilla Parker Bowles !" They all nodded with interest in a chorus of " ooos and arrhhhs"

Apart from a massive crap stain on her back end , Camilla looked shocked but unhurt. So I thanked the binmen and apologied for any damage caused.
" It will have to be logged " , the senior binman said " she's dented the roof"  but they were soon on their way and Camilla was soon sat in a dark calm goose house under observation"

I wonder what the binmen would log in their incident file?
"Camilla Parker Bowles crash landed on our bin lorry today and she shat all over the windscreen "
Dirty girl.......

Getting Straight

Ten hours of cleaning and the cottage looks a little more normal

I'm shattered 

Oh Brenda

With the cottage full of workmen, I spent yesterday out and about.
After a trip to the animal feed shop, pet store , B&Q and walk on the beach . I called into the local supermarket to ." Go to the loo" 
I don't know about you, but I do so hate public toilets, and so, if at all possible I will always seek out the disabled loo in which I can have a sneaky number two in total privacy.
I know I shouldn't  but there you have it.
I'm a bad person.
Anyhow you will be glad to know that I got my comeuppance yesterday, as after a somewhat large " movement"  the door handle rattled loudly and I heard a woman's voice trill "There's someone in here Brenda"
I got up, flushed the loo and washed my hands, and as I glanced around , I noticed with horror as the toilet bowl filled with water and almost overflowed onto the floor.
The previous " user" had effectively blocked the U bend with what looked like a mixture of things both human and paper in nature.
In panic I tried to unblock the " bung" with the loo brush but that just made matters worse, then came the knock on the door
" Excuse me , but will you be much longer ?" The woman's voice came again and very very reluctantly I opened the door.
Two women , both pushing those triangular walkers on wheels were waiting outside
" The loo is blocked" I told her, my face burning red " I will go and report it, don't go in it''s not very nice" and I marched off , ostensibly in search of a supervisor.
The first woman pushed her trolley past me , and as I darted for the exit all I heard was a rather shocked
" Oh no......Brenda !!!!!"

The shame of it all.........

Helen Hayes: The Life Saver

The Prof came home late last night. He stayed long enough to raise a Roger Moore eyebrow at the state of the cottage, had a few hours sleep and caught the early train this morning. He won't be back until Saturday evening.
I am alone again with a bomb site.
At seven this morning Winnie knocked one of her claws out jumping from the bed. The blood trail added to the general " flavour" of the place....i.e. It resembles a particularly violent murder scene.
Hey ho
And in the middle of it all I have a funeral to attend at midday!
Thank goodness for all of yesterday's jokes.....and thank goodness for Helen Hayes

No..I'm not talking about the cute stowaway old lady who didn't really deserve a best supporting actress Oscar for her role in Airport, I am talking to blog follower Helen Hayes ( sp) who took the time, effort, expense and kindness of spirit to send me a gift.
And what a gift it is.......take a look.

Even two of the workmen came over to praise the work when I opened the box, and Welsh plumbers are the most fickle in the entire world!
It was exceedingly kind of you Helen , to have done this for me and I am so grateful and overwhelmed at such a gift.
It arrived, just at the right time, when my reserves and morale are just a tad low....
Thank you so very much.....

Bumming Chips

The lounge....the kitchen doesn't look much better! 

 The workmen have given themselves until late evening tomorrow to install our new heating system, which seems a huge job to me. Having three workmen in the cottage has been a trial today, so at the height of the bedlam Winnie and I took ourselves to the pub.
There was no one there for the first couple of hours , so we had a pub lunch, several pints of Diet Coke and the landlady all to ourselves.

Watching the diners

Later in the afternoon , two Lancashire couples came in for a meal and Winnie managed to wander over to their table to say hello.
By the time I had got up from my sofa by the fire, she had managed to beg two chips and what suspiciously looked like a croquet potato out of them.

Tell Me A Joke

Tell me a joke this morning...please tell me a joke....any joke! .....anything to lift the spirits of a man faced with a gaggle of workmen decending on a small cottage on one of the wettest weeks of the year to replace a filthy stove, line a sooty chimney and "  replumb "  pipework hidden away in dusty recesses and under aged floorboards and cupboards.
They only warned me they were coming last night!
The Prof has the car and is away, so thankfully friend Eirlys has agreed to house the dogs for the day. When the workmen arrive, I shall vacate the cottage and walk the terriers up to her farm which is located a mike and a half outside the village, in the pouring rain!
Winnie shall remain..........there is no way, I would be able to remove her from a cottage filled with overall clad men!
Her hormones wouldn't allow it.

So please......tell me a joke , any joke!!!!!!!......Rachel in reply to one of her enigmatic one line posts, had losts of fish jokes yesterday which amused me , so please give it your best shot.. Tell me a joke and when you do think of our tiny cottage being ripped apart by a gaggle of heating engineers, think of the muddy footprints, the sooty fingermarks, the noise , the mess, the stress of a bulldog's vulva being wagged " enticingly" against the bars of her crate, the endless cups of tea and the crisis of the enevitable disasterous problem which no doubt will arise in the middle of it all.
Oh the calamity!

I will start the ball rolling by my favourite Holly Walsh joke of the 2015 Edinburgh fringe
" I was very old when I lost my virginity!  I wasnt as much deflowered than dead headed"

Best In Show

I was out and about in the village at midday after sleeping a couple of hours after work. It was lunchbreak at the school and Trelawnyd was rife with the screaming voices of children at play.

The noise is like the sound of planes circling in their waiting pattern for Liverpool or Manchester or the hum of early morning traffic on the main road. 

You only hear it when you think about it.

I was reminded by two villagers that it was Meirion E 's funeral at the village chapel on Thursday. 

Meirion E and his nemesis Meirion H ruled our Flower Show during it's early years.

Both entered their home grown produce into the vegetable classes and both men were as quietly competitive as any two men could be without coming to blows over their monster marrows or longest runner beans. 

Their rivalry was legendary.

Every year, and as nonchalant as Margo Channing stalking through the cocktail party in All About Eve. Both men would arrive after judging, silently calculating each others' wins and assessing each others exhibits .

One year Meirion E would win the overall winner's cup the following year Merion H would win.

It was a standing joke in the village for many, many years. 

On Thursday I won't be the only representative from the Flower Show Committee to pay their respects at the funeral. 

Part of me wants to take along one of the Show's special rosettes

The ones that say " Best In Show" 

************************************************************************

This afternoon, I watched episode 5 of The Walking Dead . A true indulgence as I never watch tv during the day.

It was a quiet and rather hokey episode where the grieving Maggie (Lauren Cohen) and Sasha ( Sonequa Martin Green ) team up with the wily Jesus ( Tom Payne) to effectively overthrow Gregory  (Hilltop's leader ) in order to set up a new home out of Alexandria. 

I kind of enjoyed the play and dynamic between the the weak Gregory, and the new leader Maggie and her defacto lieutenants  . 

However it was all a bit neat to see adoptive daughter Enid turn up to complete the new "one big  happy dysfunctional family" 

Sasha and the big blue eyed Jesus! 

Dyspraxia

There is something you may not know about me
It's something I have had to deal with since I was a child.
I suffer from a fairly mild form of dyspraxia.
Dyspraxia, for those that don't know is a disorder of coordinating certain movements.
It used to be referred to as being " cack handed"

I fell out of my crocs this morning. Admittedly it was on a particularly muddy piece of ground during a particularly heavy rainstorm, but out of my crocs I came and down into the mud I went.
I was still in my pyjama bottoms at the time!
Invariably my dyspraxia is mostly confined to clumsy behaviours. I will drop things, fail to judge distances when moving items and will always catch my head on cupboard doors.
I constantly run into shelves when pushing supermarket trolleys, overbalance when trying to get my leg into a pair of underpants and decanting things like rice, peas, flour and  sugar is fraught with the knowledge that at some time rice, peas, flour and sugar will be flung over the floor or the counter tops like confetti!

My clumsiness constantly irritates me as in most cases, a fraction before it happens, I know just what is going to happen. It's almost as if I have a brain fart just before the peas are unleashed or I turn on muddy ground.

Today I was not only irritated but very embarrassed, as I had to totter back into the house with a huge brown arse stain on the back of my pants. 

The Secret Life Of Albert

I caught him watching the Ukrainian village very carefully this morning
He was following the rounds of Thor, the oversized but gentle cockerel who is leader of team poultry.
Albert's world is small for it covers two or perhaps three acres of land, but he seems content with his lot of three Gardens, one Churchyard, a bit of scrubland and one lane, areas he patrols at least eight times in one 24 hour period.
He is a good humoured but physically distant cat. He's  not a lap sitter, and has never to my knowledge demanded a cuddle, but he does adore Winnie and can be found often pulling at her fat face- folds of flesh with gentle sheathed paws as they lay nose to nose on the floor.
The bulldog accepts his friendliness with a quiet acquiescence, not typical of the canine race.

He sleeps often, and seldom makes a noise about the house.
He is a shadow...that would always be missed if absent 

Hinterland

This is my saturday post

The world is so bloody small nowadays
This is a brief video of the Welsh police tv  series " Hinterland " ( y Gwyll)
The production values equal anything I have seen in the UK and its strange that the actors have to produce two versions ...one entirely spoken in Welsh and another shot in English!
This obviously is the welsh version.....one sold to many countries in Scandinavia
How versatile are the actors eh? 

Stuff

It started off a rather melancholic morning. I was up early as I had already caught up on sleep over the last few days and was feeling a little better despite having a streaming nose from the cold which has now decided to " ooze"
I culled a hen before breakfast which isnt a nice job at the best of times, but she looked so sick that I felt obliged to do the deed there and then.
I laid her body next to the badger track through the field and later her body will be recycled by them as they scratch out a living in the cold autumn ground. In the meantime some of the other hens and the gentle cockerel Thor gave her sad little body the once over.

I was repairing a Mary ripped hole in a pair of pyjama bottoms when there was a knock at the front door. It was a friend from work wanting coffee. She told me she had tried to come through the back garden but a ugly looking dog had prevented her from opening the back gate.
I told her it was Winnie who had just spent an hour watching gardeners doing the garden at a neighbours house, " she's obsessed with workmen," I informed my friend " she has a thing for
overalls!"
" dont we all?" my friend replied , looking around our living room with interest.
I realised that she had never been to the cottage before.

I think it's a common thing to be apologetic when someone new " checks out" your house, after all you are more than aware of that blotch on the stair carpet left by a menstruating bulldog, or that mark on the hall corner which signified  an old Welsh terrier's scratching spot, but my friend seemed rather captivated by the " old lady" feel of the place, which the cupboards and shelves filled with objects, photos, books and clutter.
She wandered around the house as if it was a museum.

She loved the paintings, the carlton ware 1930s lobster bowl and the wooden dog toy above the bedroom door. She loved the crockery and the glassware and read titles from the books on the shelves and ran her hand over the wade jug on the chest of drawers.
She wanted to know about the history of the art noveau desk in the living room.
" its lovely" she said and it was nice for me to see the cottage through bright new eyes.

Be Careful What You Wish For

This post supersedes the previous in importance
Still feeling run down, have had to cancel a planned overtime shift tonight
So popped into Marks today and instead of a scotch egg
I bought myself an egg custard tart
( feed a cold starve a fever like they say)
As I walked through the ladies department on the way out,
I managed to get one out of it's wrapping ( a feat in itself as the box was still in the carrier bag)
And just as I left the store I took one blissfully cool bite out of the pastry
before  a fucking seagull swooped in and snatched the rest right out of my hand!

I almost wept

The Power Of Laughter

I have never watched a whole episode of I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!
That kind of screaming reality show leaves me all rather cold.
But last night, all wrapped up with a lem sip , a menstruating bulldog and a roaring fire, I turned on the TV to watch a couple of celebs face the "  hilarious " Bush Tucker Trial .
The trial consists of the celebs being faced with consuming various " disgusting " small meals. to the delight of the baying audience. If the celebs retch or God forbid vomit up their cow anus or kangaroo bollocks the screaming front men Ant & Dec curl themselves up with horrific delight.
It's a depressing spectacle for sure.
Last night the two celebs kind of turned the tables on the whole thing by realising just how ridiculous the contest was.
They literally laughed their way through it!
Carol Vorderman and the wonderfully named Scarlett Moffat exuded warmth and good humour in their scenes together and within minutes I was enjoying their interactions and natural mischievousness much more than the fact they were faced with eating some poor animals arsehole!

The programme underlines that we don't need all this " throwing Christians to the lions"  in order to entertain ourselves.
Watching two friends laughing loud and strong is much more attractive a spectacle in my eyes

Anthropoid and Bulldog knickers

With the Prof away I took myself away to Theatre Clwyd for a " senior citizen" showing of the wartime movie Anthropoid this afternoon.
Things didn't get off to a grand start as the woman in the box office only charged me senior rates rather than regular ( do I look 60?)
Then around an hour into the movie, I had the mother of all coughing fits and had to leave the cinema amid a chorus of tutting from the greyhairs.
I didn't mind too much as the film was rather too dull, to return, so I went to have a look at the gallery instead.

Returning home, it was clear by the state of the floor that Winnie is now back in season. She is presently wearing a pair of the Prof's underpants with the gusset reinforced with toilet paper

See comments about just why she has not been spayed 

Christmas Adverts!

I am thinking of going to my solicitor 

The new Waitrose Christmas tv advert is a direct rip off from this blog entry

http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2016/10/a-robin-in-cake-tin.html

But I kinda like this version of the John Lewis bouncy boxer Christmas ad

Clever

For Janice

Janice has just emailed me from Somewhere in Berkshire
Apparantly she enjoyed my recent baby photo and asked in a rather " strange" way to see another photo of me " from my salad days!"
So Janice.....enjoy

ILL

It's a lazy blog today.
I've got some sort of bug which hit home in the middle of the night and I feel like shit.
I'm sure it will pass by tomorrow but today, I feel as though I've been hit by a bus.
I'm coughing so hard that I'm farting like a machine gun!
When I am ill, I look like this......

But feel like this...

I vont to be left alone

How do you cope with illness?
What sort of patient are you?

The Walking Dead Episode 4

This is a slow burn of an episode.
With Negan ( Jeffrey Dean Morgan) wisecracking his way into Alexandria ( his jokes and easy manner already getting on everyone's tits including the audience's) we see "team Rick"reacting to the threat in a somewhat interesting and varied way.
As Carl, Michonne and Rosita bubble away with quiet fury. Father Gabriel cleverly covers Maggie's tracks by showing  Negan a fake grave  ( Negan has already proved himself a talented psychoanalyst by understanding the danger of women scorned)
Rick ( threatened by Daryl and Oliva's deaths) gives away all of Alexandria's weapons and faces the backlash for it even though it is obvious it will buy him and the others some time ....time for perhaps Kingdom and Hilltop to join forces.
I could do without Judith's step dad Andrew Lincoln's goggle eyed overacting but as a stand alone episode this one was an interesting study in psychological warfare, especially as it's the Walking Dead's women who are now stepping up to the plate.