Heels

I adore my feet being rubbed...it has been a lifelong passion. If no massage is forthcoming from the academic, I will content myself with a good licking by one of the dogs.
Dogs love cheesy feet!
Years ago now, I was a reflexology " volunteer". My good friend Joy and her classmates were studying for their massage exams and needed a regular pair of feet to practice on almost on a daily basis.
I was more than happy to be their guinea pig, having my feet rubbed then was the idea panacea to the world's stresses of running a busy spinal injury ward.

One evening, I went round to Joy's house for a " rub" and got allocated to one of her new colleagues who needed some extra practice. The trainee reflexologist turned out to be a shy British Telicom workman called Charlie who had just started his training . He looked slightly awkward as I was his first " client" and he made a point of saying that all his "practical" work had been done on his wife.

Anyhow, off he went squeezing and rubbing and being the ideal reflexology model, I gave him feedback and asked appropriate questions of his technique.
Now, I never fully understood the science behind reflexology, all I know is that it feels bloody good.....so after Charlie had given the sides of my heels a particularly thorough seeing too, I made a point of complementing him by saying
" that was bloody amazing!..you could do that to me all day"
Charlie blushed and looked particularly awkward
But I pressed on regardless
" what part of the body corresponds to the heel area" I asked...trying to sound like the ideal student
Charlie coughed and looked uncomfortable
And Joy, who was rubbing another volunteer's feet nearby, leant over and stage whispered the answer into my ear
" your Bollocks," she said with a smile!
I closed my eyes and tried to look invisible for the rest of the session

Pissed

Recently an old physiotherapist friend of mine  reminded me of a boozy night out many moons ago where I stole a rather expensive oil painting from the party host's living room.
I had all but forgotten the misdemeanour but on reflection I realised that she was indeed right, I had stolen the painting and although pissed as a fart had the presence of mind to pop it in the boot of my car before crashing out .
This dreadful " habit" wasn't a one off....in the 80s and early 1990s I appropriated a whole shopsworth of precious items- most of which I returned to the owners within a 24 hour period
A silver sugar sifter , and set of silver spoons .
A tea caddy
And a terracotta planter complete with small Bay tree , were just a few items I woke up next to, in those heady days of The Leadmill nightclub, nurse parties and lock ins at the Springfield pub.

I stopped drunk stealing in 1998. It was on a warm April Sunday Morning in Sheffield and I had decided to walk from Ecclesall Road back home to Hillsborough at 2 am in the morning.
Big mistake
For when I eventually got up late morning the following day, I was surrounded by vases, pint glasses jam jars and teapots full to the brim with hundreds, literally hundreds of stolen golden daffodils.

What's the worst thing you have done under the influence?

The face I made in the queue at the vets

Promenade

Sometimes you just need to find a place in order to watch the world walk by.
Having only myself to cater for Mary and I took ourselves off to the Promenade at lunchtime.
It was overcast and spitting with rain, but Colwyn Bay was fairly busy with visitors so I found an empty bench and set out lunch
I had an advacado and cheese bagel and a skinny coffee.
Mary had a packet of sliced ham.
And we both sat for an absolute age and watched the world promenade in front of us.

Friends.. I love 'em

Jonney H ....my Sheffield friend

Recently I asked an old friend if I looked my age,
I think I have eight close friends I can ask this kind of indulgent and honest question to
He laughed his usual camp laugh and cooed loudly
" Darling you always look mighty fine" 
I preened myself briefly until he added
" all you could do with is a lot of ......moisturiser ! " 
....................I .Love you J x

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Spoilers
If you want to go and see a good old fashioned, romantic weepie that makes you feel all emotional warm and fuzzy go and see The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
It's a rather delightful piece of whimsy.

The perky Lily James

Impossibly beautiful authoress Juliet Ashton ( a perky Lily James) is at the height of her success in post war London when she receives a letter from Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman) an impoverished but well read pig farmer from the Island of Guernsey. Adams is part of a literary group formed on the occupied island by a group of lonely and isolated neighbours and his account of this strange band of misfits at first intrigues then enchants Juliet who subsequently visits the island to get drawn into a rather painful wartime mystery.

So you can see , the film has everything. Wartime hardships, shoulder pads, a delightfully eclectic set of characters, beautiful scenery, Nazi cruelty and Mr Huisman who makes the wearing of a dirty and hole filled fisherman's jumper an art form. He is basically the most beautiful man I have seen on screen in a long time.

The ensemble cast has been picked perfectly from Sunday night tv.
Jessica Brown Finlay is excellent as the mysterious and brave Elizabeth McKenna, Katherine Parkinson plays a ever hopeful gin making spinster rather movingly and heavyweights Tom Courtenay and Penelope Wilton provide warmth and gravitas in spades as the de facto grandparents of the group
Their society meetings have a real drama and pathos on screen.

Having said this , apart from the dreamy and soft spoken Huisman, I have to say that Lily James carries the film admirably. She possess a doe eyed sweetness which is perfect for the film's gentle innocence that finally, after a somewhat contrived will they, won't they? finale ends with a kiss that would make even the most hardened of watchers swoon.

It's a lovely film.

Sun

The weather is a glorious blue and every window except our bedroom window is wide open,
It's easy for the dogs to go a tumbling from the bedroom window, especially when Pippa goes past with her arsey bitch Meg in tow.
I saw villager W out for a walk and she told me the sad tale how her canary was killed by a sparrow hawk whilst in it's cage in the garden.
I think she told me that his name was Bud.
Bud is a fine name for a pet, I think
Everywhere you look , everyone has to deal with a drama of sorts.
Little ones and big ones .
The nice weather always helps with coping with both me thinks
Especially when there is a light breeze carrying the faint smell of mown grass, woodsmoke and hyacinth through the cottage.

A Musical Break

What does it make you think of?

Auntie Glad is 99

At yesterday's meeting we had a salute to Auntie Glad
She was 99 years old
This is the Facebook entry from the village choir's visit with her
The old broad will reach her 100!

"Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir added 3 new photos.

10 hrs · 

Penblwydd Hapus iawn Anti Glad!...Gladys Jones is 99 yrs young today and choir members gathered at the Prestatyn Care Home this morning to pay tribute and share this Special occasion with her. In the presence of members of her family, Gladys was presented with a framed certificate in recognition of her wonderful support & service to the choir and also a personalised wooden frame with a 1973 photo of senior members that included her late husband Bob 'Railway' Jones. With Ceinwen at the keyboard, the choir sang Happy Birthday and a few other songs which she said 'made her day'. It was great to see her happy and smiling, she is bright, charming and wonderful. Her lifestyle and clean living is the reason she has reached this wonderful age, our warmest wishes for a super day!...Côr Meibion Trelawnyd."

The Last Flower Show Meeting

Flower Show secretaries have to be multi skilled, thick skinned politicians who can sell sand to Arabs. I've inherited my sister's skills in that respect and like her, I ran a good show.

I worked alongside the powerhouse that was Sylvia Evans who ran The Trelawnyd Flower Show for more years than can be remembered and my easy manner and ability to get people to participate boosted entries considerably at a time when flower shows were not thought as sophisticated pastimes.

It was a valuable apprenticeship to be sure, and has been one I have enjoyed but as you all know with a move fairly imminent, it is now time to step down as Show secretary.

This morning I bought each of the committee a gift and a card . The ladies received a small posy of spring flowers. The gents silly gifts that echo their humour. Terry , for example received a new cake tin. ( he always battled and failed to beat my award winning boiled fruit cake.

My resignation has meant that the Flower Show committee will now fold. The commmittee has been a great one but all on it realise that the commitment in running such an event is a vast one. It's flattering , just a little, to realise that I am a hard act to follow, but it also very sad to think that the flower Show will end just shy of it's fiftieth anniversary.

So I gave my thanks to a wonderful set of despots

Matriarch Irene, animal helper Pat, Derek and Heulwen , the ever cheerful Ann and dry-as- toast Terry, oh and sailor John who never got flustered as committee treasurer.and soon I will chase up the members that were not able to make the meeting...namely Trendy Carol ( off having a trendy lunch with friends in a beige trouser suit and matching assessories ) and Meirion and Daphne who are away on holiday. I will drop their gifts off in due course.

I will also call to see Auntie Glad next week with her own bunch of flowers. She may not remember me too well but it was only two years ago when she opened the biggest and best show we had ever held in Trelawnyd, and she did so with an elegance and grace befitting the grand old dame that she is. 

I must  also pause here to thank the people who have supported the show over the years...The Evans' family, Eileen Jones' family and Christine Davis. The competitors past and present who have gone that extra mile to bring in their cakes , crafts ,flowers and vegetables and fruit for everyone to see and to enjoy. 

I will post a public thank you on the notice boards next week, and information of where the Show's savings will be spent will be shared with the village at a planned tea party in the village hall. The tea party will be an opportunity for the Show committee to say goodbye and will be open to all.. We 

intend to give almost all to it to village and local initiatives and charities

After all that's what the Show was designed for....to support the village and its people.

I'll leave you with a few photos of Shows past...

And Mary and I will now go for a nice long walk in the afternoon sunshine .

And again, I think I shall have a brief, but much needed weep.

My mother's embroidered tablecloths and flowers picked from the garden

The flower exhibits

Gladys preparing scones to be sold

She is 99 years old today x

Committee meetings around Auntie Glad's table

The trophies all polished on our mantelpiece 

The cookery classes

The novelty veg class proved popular

Naked

When I worked on spinal injuries I was one of two specialist nurses that dealt with erectile dysfunction issues of the male patients.
At that time one treatment was aprosadil, which is a drug that you can inject into the side of the penis.
When used correctly , the resulting " reaction" could be utilised for a good 45 minutes or so!- if you get my drift.
My job was to assess the need of various treatments, and to assess the right dosages when teaching the patients to administer the medication themselves. Subsequently I used to joke that I saw more penises in one day than an averagely busy prostitute !
The comment often broke the ice with certain bashful patients.

I tell you this as a bit of background colour. Only because I was literally caught with my pants down in the loo at fat club this morning. My fellow weightwatcher seemed nonplussed by the whole thing but I was mortified . I am not one that copes well with the thought of my own nudity even though I dealt with the nudity of others for years and years and years.

In the last twenty years only two people have ever seen me naked. the Prof , of course is one, my old friend and badminton partner Mike is the other.

I wish I was not so bashful......

The Walking Dead Finale

It's all over
And as always , for me, the peripheral characters made the drama
Peace now is the way forward in the zombie world
Ok ok I know Maggie and Daryl want Negan Dead( and their turnaround against team Rick offered the necessary conflict) but the saviour storyline is thankfully now over...to continue. It would have been madness.
So .....what did I like
I liked Jerry being the comic foil saying "shit" to the king
I liked Jadis ( Pollyanna Macintosh ) gently saying her name is Ann ( she is such a good actress)
And I liked Carol finally being mom and returning to Kingdom
Oh......and noting the gay vote.. I liked Alden (Callan Mc Auliffe) being all New York sexy
I will miss my geek Mondays .......( something the Prof will never understand)

Jadis (nee Ann) 

Alden' bum fluff

Jerry is a delight x

Well That's A First !

Last night I was moved by an episode of Antiques Roadshow
It's not a phrase I think anyone hears often.
What moved me was the story behind a box of children's treasures, a box from the 1940s when a poorly/ housebound little girl called Catherine amused herself by hiding clues around her home which would lead the future homeowner to a hiding place which contained her box of goodies. The goodies as it transpired were simple things, an ink pen, a spoon, a purse containing pennies - a favourite book but to the present house owner ( who found the clues some seventy years later) the treasure was a delight snap shot into the past
It moved me greatly.

When I was out with Mary on our power walk this morning, I tried to recall situations that had really moved me. Times which stung at the soul and will remain with me always .
Even though this list will ebb and flow depending on memory and insight  this is what I came up with

• Walking silently around a near deserted Theresienstadt concentration camp on a bright sunny day and shadowing a distraught former inmate and his family on their first pilgrimage to the Czech Republic from Israel .
• Watching Five middle aged sisters hold hands and sing their dying father's favourite hymn as I reduced the support of his ventilator settings.
• The " ghost hens " ( six fat broiler hens I rescued from a factory farm) emerging fearfully into sunlight for the first time where they sunbathed with a breeze in their faces and grass under their feet.
• Dancing on the roof of a Sheffield hospital with friends in the dark and feeling more alive than I thought possible
• Visiting my first dog Finlay at the animal hospital he was admitted to for the first time ( and thinking he would survive a condition that eventually killed him soon after ) 
• Seeing The Prof uncharacteristically smiling too much on the day of our wedding.

Yours? I be interested to know

The ghost hens 

23 hours

I'm a cross between this 

And this 

The finale of The Walking Dead  is only a day away!
However my friends in the US are just about to watch it !
For god's sake someone tell me what happens!

Mentors

The Prof has gone to have his second sailing lesson today.
He has an experienced sailing mentor.
I am sat at the kitchen table completing some mentoring paperwork.
I am a mentor to two Samaritans in training.
If you are fortunate you will have a whole succession of mentors during your lifetime.
Parents and grandparents are obvious mentors if you are lucky.
Role models that teach you to "do as I do and not do as I say"
Sadly for many the credo is the other way around in many families.
My father didn't really mentor me in the way of manly things. It wasn't quite done in our family. I always thought that you father was there to teach you about sex, how to shave properly and how to change a tyre on the car.
Mine did non of those things, but he did teach me to drive.
" Always anticipate the other road users to do something wrong" I remember him saying and his words have stuck with me to this day
Funnily enough I'm a crap driver too!

Flashing

for Liz

My husband has worked away all week. he returned last night and has gone to work again this morning.

Such is the life of a senior academic.

I shall be driving over to the University later to join him and the other boffins for dinner.

I have just spent a frustrating 30 minutes trying to get William to have his medication.

The old boy is a clever old sausage when it comes to spitting out tablets, I wanted to weed the flower beds in readiness for house showing......

I caught two middle aged women peeping through the kitchen window on the lane at lunchtime.

They were part of a rambler group.

Other people's houses hold a fascination for some people and they were having a right old "neb" until I suddenly walked around the side of the fridge

For some strange reason I found myself pulling up my third best walking dead T shirt and exposing  my stomach to them, which made them jump back in shock ( or could it be disgust?)

I've never done such a bizarre thing before in my life

thank goodness I had my pants on

Passport Review

I've just applied for a new passport .
It's all on line now ...even your photograph can be downloaded digitally from an appropriate photo booth.! Mine was in Tescos!
I compared my new photo with my old one this morning.
Vanity has prevented me from comparing the two here ....
My hair is now a salt and pepper grey, ten years ago it was a lusty brown
My beard now looks like a badger's head and my eyes look tired.
Where does the time go? So sang the statuesque Julia Fordham 
She's bloody right too.
Where does the time go?

I'm typing this on the train to Chester.
I've got things to do there...
I may go into our favourite cafe, to have a flat white
It's always full of bright young things
Hey ho

Lifestyle Rabbit

The estate agents are photographing the cottage this afternoon. They will arrive in a moments time
The dogs have been put safely away in the car and I've done the lifestyle thing and put fresh Aldi flowers in each room.
The place is clean and tidy.
Surfaces are clear.
And Albert's decapitated lunch of baby rabbit has been removed from its bloody pool outside the back door.

Eve

"Hi John, one of the Sec’s has asked me to pass on the following. Len H (Eve H's husband) has contacted us and asked if a message can be got to you, to inform you that Eve sadly passed away a couple of weeks ago. If you would like to know about funeral arrangements he is happy for you to contact him on  ( telephone no) ta Sxx"

I haven't worked on the spinal injury unit in Sheffield for over twelve years and hadn't cared for Eve for a good 25 years but this sad little message floated to me through the Internet from my old friend and matron this afternoon.

Eve was one of my favourite patients. A party mom with a nice family , she dived into a neighbour's pool after a couple of gin and tonics and on a hot summer's day she broke her neck.
She was paralysed from the shoulders down and I was one of her named nurses during her difficult rehabilitation .

We became friends.

Despite her injury she remained very much the party animal . Gin and tonics continued to be quaffed but adapted cups with palm straps had to used rather than the best crystal .
Carers wrote her letters that accompanied her Christmas cards to me and when she was re admitted to the unit where I was now Charge Nurse, I would pop into her room and wipe away her tears of frustration at having a urology problem or a pressure sore.

I hadn't seen her since we came to Wales but she had always kept in touch albeit infrequently and I was touched that her ex husband had remembered me.

All this kind of caught me unawares this afternoon.
And the woman who came to buy the last of my hen houses said exactly the wrong thing
" I enrolled in the first of your " how to look after chickens" courses " she said " you were very patient with me when you taught me to clip your hens wings..you were very sweet..." 
It was a nice complement , a simple one. But my thoughts were elsewhere and after she had gone I had a walk around the field with Irene in tow.

And had a brief weep

Have You Ever Punched A Viking?

Mostyn Art Gallery

I had planned to drag all of the damaged old hen houses into the centre bonfire of the field today but the weather is so atrocious , I gave that up as a bad job.
It feels like a museum mooch day but as these are few and far between in Wales I have had to settle for a visit to the Mostyn Art Gallery . 
Tonight I'm going to see a Japanese movie thriller The Third Murder 

As I sit here having a flat white I remember a trip to a museum which went titsup after the person I was with punched a Viking in a display from Ye Olde York!
The museum was  in York and my companion was a paranoid schizophrenic out on a day trip.
Luckily for all involved the Viking in question was a waxwork dummy and not a jobbing actor .

I guess I was primarily to blame as I sort of knew that the patient had a thing about red hair, but the penny failed to drop after we entered the reincarnation of ancient York with realistic depictions of Viking home life and were suddenly surrounded by a plethora of ginger Scandinavian types.

The museum didn't have a security guard as I recall, just a matronly usher who was no use in helping me disengage schizophrenic from ginger dummy.
My patient got four punches in and effectively decapitated the exhibit before I dragged him away by his coat collar.

That was the last time I took a psychiatric patient out in public
December 1988