More virus

My solicitor is a sweet warm Welsh Woman .
She was wearing elasticated pants today and I wasn't sure if she was pregnant or just post Christmas
I'm full of a cold virus yet again and feel like shit, I'm on three nights this week.
Before I saw her I'd just bought some lem sip, vitamin c and a jigsaw from Aldi
How rock n roll
The last time I saw her, I followed our meeting with a contemplative and rather tearful  sit in the Cathedral in St Asaph
And today, she told me just how worried she was for me then
" You look like a different person today " she said kindly
I feel like shite , so I must have really have looked like shit back then.
I took winnie with me as the practice secretary has a bulldog.
During my meeting I left them both together sharing a packet of hoopla hoops as several selfies were being taken.
Bet I was still charged a hundred quid for the meeting!
Hey ho

Samaritans...Can I help You?

I answered the door to a small, rather unkempt lady who was leaning heavily on a stick
She looked remarkably like Jimmy Krankie and smelled very heavily of alcohol.
" Are You ok?" I asked her in my best samaritan voice
" I don't need to talk, I just need a piss " the woman coughed " I'm bursting" 
She obviously knew that we had a disabled toilet on the ground floor.
Beaten before I had even started I showed her to the loo which was only steps from the front door.
After a minute there came the unmistakable sound of buttocks slapping floor tiles followed by a big " OOOOFFFFFF ....FUCKING HELL......"
" Are you alright?! " I called out
" I've missed the toilet !!!" Came the plaintive cry
" Can I come in?" I asked, hoping to hell that I didn't have to
" I can't bloody well get up" was the muffled response.
I ventured inside
The inebriated lady had indeed missed the toilet but she and her insides had certainly not missed the floor so it was with a heavy heart and on tip toe that I managed to get her back on the loo in one piece    Whilst unravelling the loo roll like a demon in order to mop up the " leakage"
" I'm really pissed" the woman explained in lieu of an apology
I muttered "No shit Sherlock!" Helping her with her knickers !

Moments later she was on her way home, a lot damper but certainly lighter than when she arrived.
We are a public service

Bangers

Sometimes words are not enough

Choir

Back to choir tonight and it was joyous!
I was sooo glad to be back
We sang a version of the South African Nkosi Sikelel' lAfrica followed by the Welsh lullaby Cysgu di fly mhlentys tiws (Sleep my little Children) both of which are new to us
Choirmaster Jamie ( still sporting his 1940 RAF moustache) informed us that he wants us to sing in a massive community choir get together on the South Bank in London in the Autumn
How wonderful
I'm game .....

Julian And Sandy

The bantam cockerels who upped sticks from the Ukrainian Village last year are still doing well thanks to the collective support of the neighbours.
They sleep atop one of the yew trees in the Churchyard and walk over the Cottage in the morning to spend the day bumming scraps from Sailor John and Mandy and Trendy Carol further down the lane.
Occasionally they will sit on my bathroom window ledges if I leave the window wide open after one of those ( I'd give it a few minutes if I were you ) moments, much to the hysteria of Mary who still finds any hen fair game in the chase you /kill you stakes.
Another neighbour refers to the cockerels as Julian and Sandy then got all of a dither when he thought he was not being politically correct in front of me
I love when people get in a dither 

An Elderly Shop

Today It was my turn to do some shopping and complete the prescription run for an elderly neighbour  who isn't too well.
I found the shopping list nostalgicly bittersweet in nature
Tinned stew, custard tarts, fruit cocktail.
The foodstuffs my mother used to like when I shopped with her on her weekly sojourn from her nursing home.
This was seventeen years or so ago now but I remember very well, loading up Chris's fiat in Sheffield    with a " loaned" oxygen cylinder from work and then driving the hundred miles to wales in order to take my mother out for a few hours.
Now when I say "taking out" I actually mean driving with her to Sainsbury's car park in order for her to Chain smoke cigarettes whilst connected to piped oxygen ( I know !!!I know!!!) 
As she puffed away I was sent into the store with a list.
After nearly two decades I can share that list without pausing

2 packets of lambert & Butler cigarettes,
Two strawberry tarts ( with cream),
2 miniature Gordon's gin,
A Daily Mail ( newspaper)
Wet wipes,
A Vicks nasal decongestant,
A box of tissues,
Bags of assorted sweets ( to be used as bribes so that the nursing home staff would take her for a cigarette )
Disposable lighter

After I'd shopped, and before we left for a " drive" one of the gins and one of the tarts had already disappeared as had at least three more fags and with the passenger window fully open regardless of weather we'd have a tootle around before she got bored and demanded to go back to the home.
This was the weekly routine until the day she died.
No serious conversations, no angst ,
No On Golden Pond moments,

Just a supermarket car park " gin and fag" picnic
And a hatchback that smelled of smoke on the long trip home



Ps before you think I was lovely read the 5th comment below xx

Gorgeous Dave

Gorgeous Dave earned his nickname on the very first shift he did as a Samaritan .

It was Sams stalwart Norma who coined the phrase, for after he walked past her booth and flashed a pearly white smile at her she looked at me with a look of astonishment and mouthed the words " Fuck he's gorgeous !" So dithered by his sudden appearance ( presumably one that was accompanied by a fanfare of celestial trumpets) she promptly knocked her crutches from the back of her chair but never let her caller know that she had just been wrong footed by a surge of oestrogen .....

Now that's a professional Samaritan for you!

Last night I went for a drink with Gorgeous Dave. We had become friendly during his brief time with us and both of us thought it time we reconnected . Gorgeous Dave had recently split up from a long term girlfriend.....and you know my history only too well, so meeting up over a pint to lick wounds seemed only sensible , especially given the fact we were both used dealing with sad stories! 

Now GD is dealing with being a singleton in a slightly different way to me . Where as I have spent too long a time crying at TV re runs of Pet Rescue in my track suit bottoms ( the ones with a hole in the crutch) whilst eating anything savoury from out of the fridge GD had made the most of his looks and has started to think about dating again. 

Gorgeous people can do that. mouldy old pongos like me cannot.....it's the way of the world 

I explained to GD  that 56 in gay years means that you are more past your gay sell by date than if you were a  three month old prawn sandwich left in your glove box.

He was lucky, he was straight, looked almost 30 and had teeth like Donny Osmond , he'd be snapped up as quickly as a Black Friday 62 inch tv.

We laughed about it but playing the daddy role I did suggest that he spends some time on his own.

It's easy to hide your hurt behind dating......especially if you look like a Welsh Dev Patel. 

When you look like a gone to seed Russel Crowe in hole filled sweatpants its easier to have the time to reflect that dating is not quite the answer to grief

Ps

This was intended to be a frivilious post and not one fishing for complements.....

The photo is not of the real Dave but is a pretty close version

I will leave you with the views i can see now....winnie bumming chips at the beach cafe

My Favourite

 I adore Olivia Coleman .
Just listening to her giving an interview fills me with pleasure, as her self effacing and always breathless humour is exactly what I find attractive in another human being.
I've treated myself to a midday showing of The Favourite today
So later, I shall share the review
I suspect Mz Coleman will receive a few plaudits .

The Favourite has a " look" all of it's own.
Set against the fashions of an early 18th Century Royal court, director Yorgos Lanthimos has created a sumptuous, predominantly black and white hued version of the power struggles of three very different women.
Lady Marlborough ( Rachel Weisz ) the straight talking power behind the frail and sickly Queen Anne ( Olivia Coleman) is effectively running the Royal Court and indeed the country.
When her cousin Abigail ( Emma Stone) a lady fallen on difficult times arrives asking for a job the dynamic between Queen and her confidant and lover is challenged which leads to a whole series of manipulations and intrigues behind the Royal Closed doors.

Hard stare Stone

This is a powerful and clever film which balances the characters of all three protagonists equally.
Each woman is shown in balance.. sometimes we see each acting as a monster, sometimes with more  sympathy and not one quite outshines the other in the intensity of their performances.
Weisz and Stone dance around each other with wonderfully wicked turns and Coleman truly shines as the complex and childish Monarch...especially in one pivotal scene where we are only privy to a facial close up, which literally breaks your heart, as she shares the heartbreak of a Queen ravaged by bereavement and bad health.

Weisz in full swish

Common Sense

Winter 1985 York

Psychotherapy and counselling only works if the recipient has insight into their condition or problem

So many " professionals" allow their time to be an emotional romp rather than an effort to explore the roots of the problem  and yesterday I was reminded of a moment when I witnessed a real eureka moment during a therapeutical interaction.

The moment was a pivotal one.

The patient had slashed at her arms and neck with broken crockery after a particularly difficult weekend leave at home and was being seen by the psychologist moments after allowing me to dress her wounds. She was crying and forlorn, but managed to share that her husband had emotionally battered her during a family celebration designed to celebrate her inpatient improvement and removal from a mental health section.

Much of her therapy was concerned with abuse this patient had received at the hands of a critical and emotionally weak, jealous father. 

Confused and distraught the patient kept referring to her husband's behaviour  by repeating the words " Why.... why why?  " as she ripped at her bandages and as I stood to intervene the psychologist, a thin , vital little Yorkshireman waved me away with a grim smile

He knelt at the patient's feet, took her hands and caught her gaze

"His teeth fit your wounds" he said slowly " His teeth fit your wounds!" 

" Do you understand?"  and eventually through her tears the patient nodded

The link between her choice of husband with the behaviour of the  ghost of her father clarified by a simple phrase.

Eureka 

Chatty

Congratulations to teenage boffin Cameron who had just passed his driving test.

I need to book him to cottage sit when I go up to Sheffield next month, I hope he can make it as Mrs Trellis is my next bet and the dogs will run circles around her. 

She's no disciplinarian
Sheffield will be a hug to my heart.....for as well as the hospital reunion Im arranging to meet old friends Mike, Bev, Jane, John, Kath and Vince.....2018 I let things lapse with them

Trendy Carol, ( nice hair new jacket) dropped me a late Christmas gift of miniature gins yesterday. Her Terrier was on the same medication as William so it was a thank you for me passing it all over to her. 

"Gorgeous Dave "from Samaritans has just called wanting a catch up and I've arranged to meet up with him on Saturday for a drink which will be nice...I told him I needed to pull myself out of my Yuletide funk and he agreed......I m going to see if village elder Islwyn could give me a lift so I can have a small Sherry! I'm sure he will....

It's my turn to book some theatre for the affable despot, Jason and I to go to and choir starts next week which will be fun....our choirmaster wants to take us all to a big joint sing in London this year! 

How fantastic is that?
My friend Greta has promised me a night out of gossip too...after my night shift ...she's on!
Grabs bra straps and pulls!

It's cold tonight and I'm off to bed soon in some thermal socks my sister gave me for Christmas.....bloody lovely they are too
Winnie has watched Rick Stein prepare several meals in India tonight, then sat through a re run of Bake off and is now enjoying a documentary on the Mississippi ...I may leave the tv on for her overnight
Hey ho

Creating A Monster

With George now assuming top dog status by spending every sleeping moment in the much sought after blue arm chair, Winnie has been now been relegated to the small edwardian arm chair in the corner of the living room.  Already fed up with this " demotion" she now has made it her misson to sneak onto the couch with me and Mary where she has suddenly found herself mesmerised with the devil himself....the television  For hours in an evening ( and like most if the UK population) she will now watch any old shite thats going but seems to  prefer action tv and movies to anything more cerebral or thoughtful  The other evening she seems to be particularly engrossed in Disneys Jungle Book but did sit through the Victoria Cohen Mitchel Quiz Show Only Connect without blinking.
   

Spinal Days

Im not a lover of reunions You know reunions from school...the class of 74 and all that.  It all leaves me somewhat cold. In Febuary ive been invited to a reunion of staff from the Princess Royal Spinal Injury unit in Sheffield  It will. I  know be an emotional evening and is one I am looking forward to.  Some places in your history hold a special place in your heart, and that rehabilitation unit filled with like minded multi disciplined staff was the place that taught me how to be not only an effective holistic carer but what I hope was a popular and effective manager of people.  The special nature of spinal nursing is centred around the fact you have the patients for so long. On the acute ward  ( the one I ran) the patients were admitted anything from three to six months, sometimes longer in the those with respirstory complications,after which they would be transferred to a sister ward in order to complete their rehabilitation .  It was not uncommon to have a professional relationship with patients and their families  for a year or so, so it wasnt uncommon for patients to become if not true friends, but rather special people in your life. I have not worked there since 2005 and Im still in touch with staff and former patients. 
 In Febuary Ive arranged to meet up with Kim before we go. A former psychologist on the unit who now lives down south. Kim, I know shares my affection for the place " This is a place of much humour, strength and warmth " she once said with an emphasis on the humour. 
 The following was the paraphrased
conclusion of a thank you letter I recieved from a visiting district nurse back in 1997
" Despite the gravity of the disabilities dished out  to ordinary people often by sudden arbitary accidents this centre has such a positive and cohesive approach in maximising independence and personal responsibility.  I have been humbled by it. God bless you for sharing that with me "
 We all have a place that shapes and defines us.  The Spinal Unit in Sheffield did that for me.      

New Year Clean Bitch

Doing extra night shifts tonight and tomorrow night

Vet's bills need paying

A Happier New Year

I had today's blog all written in my head this morning.
It was a meandering, reflective piece about my 2018 and what I could have done better in a marriage that I didn't realise was on it's uppers.
But what's the point?
What ifs help no one!
What's done is done..
Yet..many worries have not yet been resolved in the divorce, and my future remains uncertain
Uncertainty can be exhausting

This morning George got reviewed at the vets and was started on some steroids . We stopped at the supermarket at Denbigh before home and I treated him to a cooked chicken breast.
The vet receptionist gave me one of those " You AGAIN?"  expressions when we arrived. I gave her the buiscuit tin Mrs Trellis had given me a few days ago. It was fat club weigh in half an hour later and I just knew I have put on several pounds over Christmas.

Yes, this morning is a snapshot of an ordinary morning of an ordinary day.
Boring, mundane and probably like one that most of us experience after Christmas....only today is New Year's Eve......and I rather dislike New Year's Eve as there is a pressure for it to be albeit in part....interesting
Since the late 1980s when a dear friend died just before the celebrations started, I always have disliked the day.

And so, only after I've painted a picture of a morning of feeling slightly sorry for myself,  it was then when I rembered that a family friend had just lost her husband a few days ago. I had already written her a sympathy card which I'd put in Bluebell's glove box so with George still smacking his lips free of Chicken fat, I stopped at the friend's house to deliver it.

The new widow was filling her bird feeders in the garden when I arrived and her entire posture sagged in sadness when I approached.
All I could do was hug her long and hard as she cried.
And cried she did, as my croc wearing feet grew damp and cold on the wet grass.

There is nothing like witnessing real raw grief to get you to realise that your own problems can be coped with and even when you still think your life couldn't be more miserable and painful, my grief over a broken marriage cannot quite be compared with the finite end only a death brings in a long term relationship .

When We got home George retired to his armchair with Winnie as his organic hot water bottle whilst I made butter squash soup. I've been invited to a village drinks party tonight which is nice as I now could go as my pre planned Samaritans shift 00.00 to 02.00 am shift has had to be cancelled, but I think I shall stay at home alone. Robert Cameron , who invited me , told me with some feeling that I was "spending too much time alone .....which is not good ...you need to be with people who love you"  
But as right as he may be , tonight I feel is not the night to start the change in things.

" Tomorrow, I 'll start changing things a bit" 
Tomorrow is when I can start training for the marathon

"......... after all tomorrow is another day" 

Hey ho my dearhearts
Let us all have a better 2019 eh? 
Xxxx

Small Pools Of Light

I'm tired
It's a kind of wasted day after a night shift and I'm cuddled up with George on the couch.
He's got a bout of enteritis and is lying with a hot water bottle on his tummy.
We've not had a poo for a couple of hours though which is good
The living room is bathed in small pools of light, which makes a change from the pools of poo which decorated it in the last 24 hours
My Art Deco bear and hippo glimmer alongside various scented candles, a glowing fur cone and the deep red pulse of the lot burner
And the living room really feels like home

Pantomime ( aka Panto)

I went to the panto last night.
Now Panto in Rhyl wouldn't be my first choice given my sensitive snobby ways but all turned out pretty well despite a half filled auditorium .
Now I am aware that many of my followers wouldn't really have a " scooby doo" of what constitutes an average British panto....and so here are a few pointers

Think of a child's fairy story performed on stage with a backdrop of gaudy, cartoon sets and lavish over the top costumes.
Add to the mix, a few non related pop songs sung by with gusto by the twenty something principle boy or girl, a backing dance troupe of five or six , slightly uncoordinated teenage dancers in their first show and hordes of tiny tots from the local dance school who are there to make up the numbers.
Sweetening the menu can be a minor soap opera celebrity almost on their uppers who usually plays the villain , a couple of middle aged male comics, one usually dressed as a dame with massive tits and a potty mouth who can engage the predominately kiddie audience with enough silliness which smokescreens a whole lot of double entendres loved by the adults.
Finally, the children are encouraged to scream and shout at the action, slapstick comedy, and asides where sweets are thrown into the auditorium or the old water pistols are brought into play.
sophisticated, it isn't, but professional it certainly is and Aladdin last night at Rhyl's Pavilion was a typical example of of the craft which was as entertaining as it was colourful.
I didn't want to go
I'm still dreadfully antisocial at times and very low in family company
But the silliness, of it all perked the old spirits up.

Off to work tonight
Hey ho

Veronique

Thank you

Badly Done

I once ended a friendship after a friend publically insulted his partner at a dinner party.
It was a moment that proved to be uncomfortable all round and one that was incredibly reminiscent of that scene in Jane Austen's Emma, where Emma Woodhouse belittles the poor Miss Bates at a picnic gathering much to the shock of all present.
In the novel Emma is rebuked by her suitor Mr Knightly which causes her  much shame  and to this day I wish I had said something at the time.
There is a saying that one swallow doesn't make a summer, and so I was aware that the insult could have been just a misjudged out-of-the-blue  comment.but the venom of the rebuke was so graphic I suddenly felt that I had seen the true character of my friend and it coloured by feelings for him a second after I had heard it.
This was twenty years ago, and I still felt I should have said " Badly Done ..." at the time and so when I received a Christmas message from this former friend just two weeks ago I deleted it without a reply
" Some things that are said.....cannot be unsaid" 

Thank You..it's fucking over!

My Christmas is over....the cards are all down, the tree is planted in the garden and a strange bobble hatted figure has just dropped off my last gift.....a box of biscuits and a small plastic bulldog

A shadowy Mrs Trellis disappearing up the lane

It's now time to move on from this an emotionally hard Christmas to pastures new.
But I need to thank a few people.
Thank you to my family that have put up with my anti social behaviour with some alacrity ( even though it was honest and very real) ..and thank you to my sister Janet who I know I dragged to see Mary Poppins against her will.
Thank you to villagers Nick and Linda, Heulwen and Derek, Mrs T, John,Ed and the lovely Cameron's for their invites to socialise on Christmas Day and to the Cameron's again for calling in twice in order to deliver a surprise turkey dinner with all the trimmings as well as an " emergency "bottle of gin! My comment on your Facebook page stands " Good people ...good friends"
Thank you too to Wendy, Barbara Ann, gayle, Rachel, and to the anonymous ( Ter?) who posted me a snood  and 100£ in CASH!!!! ( you have single handed allowed me to pay for the field rent for the next year...money I just so didn't have to hand) - your gesture made me weep buckets!
Thank you all  for your cards, and gifts and kind wishes.....and emails ......and to Nu for that timely lunch!
Thank you Animal helper Pat for your Barabrith and to pippa for your Sams gifts!
Thank you to Sue for your hug and Boxing Day gifts and thank you Jon, Kim , Judy, mike for your kind texts of concern
Thank you Naomi, Nia, Jan, for my new Christmas decorations and to Greta for the gin !!
And thank you to the choir who made our concert such a special experience for me...I was so proud to be a part of it all
Ps.... oh thank you to dog breeder susan who told me that Mary's sister was expecting puppies in the new year !!!!!!!!!
Ok
I think that's everyone...
You get the message .....thank you xxx

Every Gusset a memory

Victoria Wood once said " I can remember when pants were pants. You wore them for twenty years, then you cut them down for pan scrubs.....every gusset a memory!"

This morning I reviewed my knicker drawer
It made for some dismal viewing.
I have exactly ten pairs of underpants.
Two of these have holes the size of an average guinea pig in their gussets.....
One looks grey and should be white
One pair has knicker elastic as lax as a vaginal prolapse
For nearly two decades I have never bought any pants and so this morning, somewhat late in the day I realised that it was about time I bought some.
As far as I can make out you now have to buy underwear which has the company logo on its waistband. To show this logo off, is the next job, especially when you bend over to tie your shoelaces or reach up on a shelf to retrieve a book.
It's all in the waistband!
So to the knicker aisle of TK MAXX  I went and thirty minutes later a whole lot of reduced pants were chosen and paid for. £ 6.00 for two pairs!
£ 30. 00 in total!
Enough to last me the next twenty years!

When I got home the Christmas decs were all taken down....I used this idea from my sister for storing the Christmas lights....they will illuminate the dark corners of the inglenook fireplace.