Neat And Tidy and a lesson on doing the right thing

I have a soft spot for Jenny our now retired village postmistress.
She remains as disorganised as ever, (indeed she only posting our Christmas card and those of our neighbours through our letter boxes after Christmas) and today I remembered her post office counter with some affection as it always looked in total disarray and as though she had just been burgled.

I am trying to organise myself better.
It's a product of having a new orderly kitchen for I am liking everything having a place and a purpose.
So, when I am waiting for a new arm chair to be delivered ( it's to go in the corner of the kitchen ) I'm sorting out our piles of paperwork. It is these that is reminding me of Jenny and her chaotic post office counter.

I'm not making any  I must be organised resolutions this January, indeed I'm not making any unattainable goals which could ( according to the charity MIND ) affect my mental health negatively if I don't fulfil them .
But I have decided to orchestrate more nice things for us to do.
Retirement must have its own perks.
So 2018 will be a year we travel a bit more. I have already organised a couple of London jaunts and we are having a whole week's holiday in Sitges in the summer.
We also hope to get to Canada and Sweden too......

The John Lewis arm chair arrived early so the paperwork was stuffed away to be forgotten for another year.

Have you made any resolutions? 

I'll leave you with a handmade thank you heart which arrived  by post today.
It was from someone we gave a Christmas present  to.
A gift that we easily bought and we easily gave
The recipient was strangely moved when we handed it over and only then did we find out it was only one of two gifts they received over the Christmas period (the other gift was a small parcel of sweets)
Christmas is about giving, and we often forget that fact.
It was nice that The Prof and I exchanged humbled glances when we realised we had done the right thing

Never Surprise An Old Bulldog.

Everywhere you look there seems to be a man in a white van delivering something.
This afternoon just as I was leaving a message for the Church warden to say that I will continue with the Church cleaning rota I heard a bang then a scream by the back door.
I had put Winnie outside to finish her dinner only a few minutes before so hurried through the kitchen and opened the door. There was a white van in the lane and standing on the other side of the wall was a very frightened looking delivery driver.
Standing with her paws on our side of the wall was Winnie and she was puffing like a steam train with a very angry look in her eyes
" He's ripped my pants !" The man gasped grabbing at his overalls . A broken bit of wall on the floor told me everything I needed to know of what had happened.
The delivery man obviously couldn't be arsed walking down the lane to our old wrought iron back gate which is covered in honeysuckle and clematis and had vaulted the low kitchen patio wall from the lane with a leather bag for the Prof in his hand. He landed with a clatter which surprised Winnie as she mooched around the back garden and like a bull she had launched into sudden protective mode and had attacked. The man had knocked the top of the wall off as he bounced back over the wall with the pocket pulled off the leg of his combats.
" Fucking hell" the man swore as Winnie gave him a series of short barks and as I took the package I decided to have a bit of fun with him.
" Think yourself lucky " I told him " "he put the last delivery man who surprised him in hospital " 
" Fucking Hell" the delivery man repeated with eyes as side as dinner plates.

Grey ( Gray) Journey Home

Thank goodness it's now all over.
Negotiating a rainy Euston station in the rain with a paper carrier bag stuffed with gifts whilst you are still full of cold and after no sleep ( thanks to a slightly deflated rubber mattress I may add)...is not a bag of laughs.
But it is part of the rich tapestry of family visiting just after Christmas.
I've already told the Prof not to "bang on about rubbish" as I am in no mood for it.
You may think I have been somewhat direct but at these times I have found it easier to be direct rather than subtle. A pale expression and a silent demeanour is lost on The Prof.
Mother in law Sorrel was full of the same Yule Plague as I, so I felt sorry for her having to feel that she had to look after us whilst under par.
I've tried to help out at every turn though I do feel slightly guilty that there still was a fairly untouched raspberry pavlova sat on the cool table in her conservatory when we left this morning.

I've only got the dogs to pick up, the fire to light and apologies to give when we get home. Apparently Winnie peed on her hostess' new sofa throw the first night she was away, which is unlike her. I don't think she could be arsed going outside on a wet and windy night.

Normal blogging service will be resumed tomorrow......

Mad Fuckers

What is it with Brits, public holidays and taking a dip into icy waters?
We braved the torrential rain on Broadstairs beach at midday to watch several hundred locals run screaming into the cold cold waters of the English Channel ( then run screaming out of it almost immediately!)
Most had donned various illfitting and inappropriate pieces of fancy dress....including this lunatic in a sombrero
It was all great fun.
Happy New Year

2017 Review

It's round robin time.
Thank goodness ( I think) I have a sense of humour, so it shouldn't be that painful.
It's only a snatched post too as we are between relative visiting.
I'm " doing " The in laws so to speak!

Compared to most we've had a peaceful year.
No deaths, no trauma, no real angst.
Animal numbers have remained static and apart from Winnie piling on the weight post hysterectomy and William's eyesight failing so much he constantly walks into the ironing board the dogs have been lucky.
And so have we......
We've had them for another year.
The new kitchen arrived and I retired from a career which has served me well for three and a half decades.
I was ready to go. Clinical Nursing is a young person's game and now I still fart when I bend over. I have noticeably thinning grey hair and a bald spot the size of a fried egg!
I look like my dad.
Which is a blessing......my mother looked like the wreck of the Hesperus when she was older

2018 will offer new adventures and no antisocial shifts to muddy home waters, which is Grand.

2018 is the year we travel a little more. Bosoms will be resurrected and old friends will be connected with. 2017 has taught me the fragility of health ( a lesson I never really learnt in nursing) and loved ones are only loved ones when you've got them.
Make the most of people is the phrase du jour

So dearhearts, be brave, head up, tits out
2018 will be fine, and bright and new
Let's enjoy it together xxxxx

Where Are We?

Forgive me for not replying to my previous post's comments
I have read each reply and as usual they eclipsed my original words and thoughts.
I've just woke up after a sneaky nap on a blow up mattress
We spent the day in a rather picturesque British city and I was tired
Where are we?
Here is a little clue

Thoughtful

Tom Stephenson's blog will affect a few readers today.
Suicide and the debate surrounding this, the most emotive, most irrational and to some most selfish of self destructive acts will bang on to the end of time.
Soon I shall me mentoring new Samaritans during the final parts of their extensive training.
In between the time wasters, the sex callers, the lonely, the unhappy and the distressed they will be faced with the suicidal caller and how the newbies cope with those first calls can have a profound effect on their careers within an already shrinking service.
I remember one particular caller when I started as a volunteer. A young professional man sat in his car on an unamed beach somewhere in Britain who was taking an overdose.
I remember throwing everything I had into that call.
Every " trick" I had in my arsenal was brought into play to bring some positive resolution out of a terribly sad situation but after an hour of talking the caller finally ended our conversation and I was left unsure of the outcome of a person I had suddenly come to care about.
At my debrief my mentor just let me talk about the call
She simply reflected that I had done my best.
and that's all any of us can do in situations like these

Winter Morning

Not sure I have anything to say today.
The cottage is uncharacteristically quiet
The sun is weak and watery and all I can hear is the tick of the clock and the squabbling of the hedge sparrows by the front door

In All Seriousness

I had a laptop for Christmas and my computer skills are noticeably lacking given the fact I am now so used to iPad workings.
Taking a break from acer this and Firefox that, I ambled through social media news with it's memes, fake news and photos of kittens.
One " party game" caught my eye
It was titled " NAMING YOUR VAGINA!" 
Apparently your vagina ( and presumably penis) name is that of a recently watched movie you have enjoyed
God help us.....with all that is happening in this world , I am reading a list of vagina names ..named after movies?!
However The First Lady that answered made me guffaw
" With my luck with the opposite sex......it would have to be Disney's FROZEN " she typed

Your Best Gift

My light box message this morning!

As a kid, gifts mean more than anything else in the world.
As a adult other things seem to matter more.
Blogger Rachel's reunion with Peter on Christmas Day was sweeter than the ending of Shiela Burnfords's The Incredible Journey and her joyful post, I know has made many of our Christmases just that little bit nicer, especially given the painful and at times arduous journey she made after he originally left.
The Weaver, in her indomitable let's get on with things style has faced her own demons this year and still manages to face the world with a ukulele and a smile and Thomas is still soldiering  on despite  Brexit and slump in European candlestick sales.
The older I get, the more importance I hold in health. In making the effort and in enjoying things.
When Some people take joy out of a tv the size of a barn door or a car that is able to talk to you and park itself...I quite pride myself in getting giddy as a kipper over my new vinyl floor in the kitchen .
Horses for courses.
Christmas Day was sweet because the family got together without agenda. It was a day when my twin sister merrily got drunk during charades. When my older sister manfully battled with dishing out the starters as the entire male population made balloon animals and when the Prof delighted in wearing his gold lame underpants in public! 
That's what is important.
Enjoying the small stuff.....

So as I play with my new light box message board! I have to ask what's your best gift this year?
What are you thankful for? What's made you smile, proud or just happy?
It has to be positive......
I want things to be positive today
I'd be interested to know! 

Gold Lamé Underpants

One of the gifts my sister bought The Prof and I were a pair of gold ( for him) and silver ( for me) novelty underpants which went down a bit of a storm.
I was reminded of a long distant Christmas from childhood when my father ran into a crowded room in his vest and y fronts and fell into the Christmas tree with an inebriated in law.
That was in the 1970s and public underwear wearing was deemed hilarious way back then.
We seem much more sophisticated now

The Prof is cooking today in his Christmas pyjamas !
He is presently cooking a ham and is preparing a mountain of bubble and squeak.
I am sat in the living room armchair, still a bit washed out but grateful that my now chest infection is becoming more mobile. I sound like a pan of scouse which is bubbling away on the stove top.
Yes I'm painting a rather attractive picture of myself rant I ? .....lovely!

I better get up....as the dogs need feeding,
I've been reminded as I've just seen Winnie eat a very small hand knitted Christmas pudding tree decoration.
Hey ho

We were fed and watered wonderfully at my sister's home yesterday so today's its 1970s Boxing day fare with a retro trifle !

Darlings.......

We went to the Church service last night and despite man flu the vicar gave one of his best Christmas sermons.
He talking about the comfort of the familiar , just like the " Baby Jesus" moment I mentioned in yesterday's post....and although he is quite used to me being rather irreverent , I hope he understood just how genuiningly moving such little moments are when they become part of your own tradition.
Gaynor The mad organist , was dressed in her best tartan suit and I told her she looked like a Bay City Roller fan . She looked stressed !....organisists , mad or otherwise, are greatly sought after at this time of year.
This morning the Prof and I swapped gifts as Winnie searched the wrapping paper debris we are meeting up with my family later...and I'll post some photos of us all..even if you don't want to see them
Have a nice day my people x

Bring On The Baby Jesus

Virus' are bad bastards.
Mine has morphed from being hot, fevered and ache based
To explosive cough and snot based.
I'm also at the stage where pent up coughs force out nuclear speed farts at the same time.
Much to the chagrin of the Prof who shakes his head sadly when I let another one fly across the kitchen.
Hey ho.... not to be downhearted !

A few chores today, which is nice. Last minute Christmas card deliveries need to be done
I'm making parmesan biscuits this afternoon followed by the obligatory sherry trifle.
and we are going to Church later to hear the vicar utter those traditional  Christmas service words as the nativity scene is completed with the arrival of one last tiny figurine
" Mrs Davies .......bring on the baby Jesus!" 

Have a peaceful and happy Christmas Eve, wherever you are

Help

Although I'm full of aches and pains , I am feeling a bit better today
I need a bit of help from blogland as I have been given the job of organising some sort of quiz/ game for the family to play on Christmas Day.
Please give me some of your ideas.

Christmas 2002

Our old dining room in Sheffield

This time last year I posted my most popular post
http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/christmas-1985.html
Something resonated with Going Gently readers ( or google perhaps) and I had 2500 unique visits to this a sad tale of a lonely psychiatric patient at Christmas 1985
I can't match that story , even so  believe me when I say I've had some equally sad and moving experiences when I was nursing over the Yuletide season
So tonight I will share with you my best Christmas memory
It was a simple few moments on Christmas Morning back in 2002
A simple few moments I shall always remember
I had Christmas Off ( a bloody rarity ) with The Prof and after a posh breakfast  and gift swapping we were sat in our dining room on a tiny sofa in the window warmed with weak morning sun. The Prof gave me a hug of thanks for his very expensive gift ( not!)  when our dogs Finlay ( a Welsh terrier very much like William) and Maddie- a bad tempered Scottie both dived on top  of us not wanting to be left out of the celebrations and for that moment as dogs , husband to be and I hugged in one big fat mess,  I realised that  I was truly loved ........and truly home . 

Powerful Women

I'm still feeling like shit and settled down for another sleepless night coughing on the sofa with my iPlayer, Mary and Winnie last night
I ended up watching an episode of Feud to pass the time.
"A Powerful story of powerful women "
On reflection I realised that my life has always been filled with powerful interesting women
My Maternal Grandmother and Mother were powerhouses in so many different days, one positively and one less so
My sisters ( and sister in law ) have always provided my life with a backdrop of never ending support
And my friends Nu, and Jane have always given me the humour and sparkle I've always needed .
Add to the mix sparking nieces,ballsy bloggers, old Welsh ladies, Sheffield, Derbyshire and Denbighshire nurses,aunts,  a psychologist with balls, village schoolgirls with attitude, and an eternally cheerful mother in law and you will agree I have been rather blessed by everything feminine

Who have you been moulded by? 

Speckled Bread

Mary and I spent a rather sleepless night on the couch last night.
No, it wasn't a result of the obligatory Christmas Row ,
I was full of a cough and a heavy cold and Mary has an ear infection and so in order to allow The Prof some sort of rest from the coughing and itching before his work today, I banished both of us to the couch.
At 5.00 am, after the log burner had died down, Winnie tried to join us in an effort to keep warm.
I feel like a the new parent of a colicky baby this afternoon. Tired and headachy.

I have left the house only once to walk the dogs ( with Albert in tow) and so missed animal helper Pat when she called around with a Christmas gift of homemade bara brith.
I wasn't out long as I went in the mood Albert's insistence in walking with us even on the main road,
That cat will get himself killed one day
I found the loaf tied to the back door handle ( Aunty Glad style) when we got home.

Now for those that down know Bara Brith is a Welsh fruit bread usually made without yeast. It is often flavoured with tea and is eaten thinly sliced and Covered in butter.
It is delicious and incredibly moreish

In Welsh bara means bread and brith means speckled.
The "Speckled" title refers to dense amounts of fruit in the recipe.

Stock photo bara brith

I'll leave you with some nativity scenes, I'm off for a lemsip

....and finally

Lifestyle blog today. That mixed with a tale of some monumental sulking after the floor layers refused to say hello to Winnie and she in a fit of pique flung herself onto the vinyl like Scarlet did after being rejected by Ashley Wilkes.

Two open shelves need to be built on the wall behind the table but apart from that the kitchen is now finished and remains clean, tidy, bright and fresh.

Hey ho

The Things You Notice

Mince pies in the window

Tomorrow the kitchen floor goes down and the kitchen will finally be finished..I'll post photos of it then for you all to ooohhh and arrrhhhh at ! ....today I've spent my time baking at the kitchen window.
For years this window was screened by an antique French lace banner but since the new window went in, I have left the frame uncovered and have subsequently enjoyed the view when cooking.
Today and yesterday I noticed that the human traffic through the churchyard seemed particularly heavy.
Wrapped up in winter coats, groups of people in ones and twos have been crossing the graveyard all carrying Christmas wreaths and on a break from dusting mince pies George, Winnie and I ambled over to see what was going on.
Over eighty Christmas Wreaths had been placed on the " newer " graves in the tiny cemetery. Most were made of holly and ivy but cheerful poinsettia blooms, tinsel and small flowers added to the tributes, indeed , as we ambled along the paths another couple arrived to lay their own Christmas wreath on a grave next to that of the Red Faced Welsh Farmer.
For many people Christmas can be such a bittersweet time.
The steady stream of visitors to the Church perhaps was a testament to that fact
The things you notice when you stand baking at the kitchen window.

Ps the caption winner was Terrill

Caption

Best caption gets a gift