Risk Assessment
Mary looking uncharactistically worried
The other night I toppled out of my crocs like an semi fluid hundredweight of cement flowing unchecked out of a wheelbarrow.
Unfortunately I was peering over my field wall at the time and fell about five feet through a small gooseberry bush.
My crocs had the good sense to remain side by side on the top of the old wall
Apart from bashing my face in a hundred cuts, I did rip my third best Walking Dead T shirt and also knocked the arm from my best pair of reading glasses ( the 7£ ones from Asda!!!!)
Luckily no one saw my fall from grace though I am sure neighbour Mandy came to her bedroom window when she heard me swear" Fuckity fuck fuck" as I limped for the gate
My dyspraxia isn't getting any worse.
It's been with me since birth, it's just that I think I have a different centre of gravity than I used to have and my eyesight is more questionable so I am banging my head and rolling forward like a short sighted wombat more regularly.
I invested in a new pair of crocs this morning
Luminous green!
I can now see my feet in the dark
"Oh Sing To Me Of Some Bright Heaven"
I am so glad I made the effort to go before work
It reminded me of all of the heartfelt offers of practical help passed on to me via the blog and in private since my somewhat down post of Sunday
It's therefore my thank you.
" If here on Earth you have the fortune,
To spend your day in company dear
The ground you walk is gilt with blessings
Sing one sweet chord for all to hear"
100
Frail, deaf and registered blind, she now has her good days and her bad days, which is to be expected and despite a couple of recent falls she continues to soldier on like the stalwart she has always has been ( there's a message in that me thinks)
Even though we no longer officially exist the Old FLOWER SHOW COMMITTEE has organised a massive bouquet to be sent to her. One with the loudest array of coloured flowers that could be mustered. I am hoping she may be able to see just a glimmer of the blooms sent.
Members of the village choir will be singing her happy Birthday and will be taking a cake and her daughter and family. will be there on the day.
She has already told Phil from the choir that she needs to bake her famous scones for the day
In the village there is still a significant number of people that hold dear memories of the old gal.
Indeed I have shared many here, from her famous last speech at the last flower show, to her hundred or so scone gifts tied surreptitiously on the cottage door knob,
But when pushed I have one very dear memory of auntie Gladys that outranks all of the others and that was back in 2008 when I held my very first Open Allotment Day for Charity.
I was fairly new in the village back then and had no idea how many people, if any, would support the event so when the deadline of 6pm came and it helpfully started to rain, I found myself standing in the lane willing for just one person to turn up.
I need not have worried...... for when I walked up the lane and looked around the corner leading up to the Church I spied a long row of villagers, walking towards me in Indian file under a collection of umbrellas and rain macs.
Leading them was a valiant Auntie Glad, dwarfed by a massive golfing brolly and as she passed me she nodded her head and gave me a genteel "Hello" in her best telephone voice as if she was walking into church
Rollercoasters
I can chatter away about surprising kisses, pet dramas, roses-around-the-door village life and the zombie apocalypse and at the same time adding to the mix some "hilarious" historical story of nursing from years ago but reality has a real arsehole habit of biting you when things are on the up and then dragging you down to places you really don't want to go.
My divorce is proceeding...and....needs to be paid for
It looks as though I will have to sell the cottage and find myself something "smaller" for me and the dogs and Albert
It very much looks as though I will have to move away from the village which has been my home for the past thirteen years
The uncertainty of the past year continues to overshadow me and I wonder just how many times I can hike up those bra straps to soldier on
!
hey ho
Hero
Most " rescue" YouTube videos are not quite what they seem
This is not one of them
Hero collie save chihuahua
A John Gray Fable
In those days we had to put 24 confused and incontinent patients to bed.
This was when night staff were real men and where planing and tenacity were better virtues than all the fluffy things we learned at the school of psychiatric nursing circa 1983
Just me and an old enrolled nurse
Toilet visit, hands and face wash, clothes off pyjamas on, teeth sorted ...in bed
24 times.
I did one side of the day room.
The enrolled nurse did the other.
The dormitory filled slowly from eight pm.
By eleven pm we had just one bed left unfilled
And two patients sat in the day room!!!!
I scratched my head and looked bemused
The enrolled nurse scanned the beds and called me a fuckwit
I had just put a visitor to bed!
It turned out that the visitor had mild learning difficulties and had fallen asleep whilst he was visiting his father ( who incidentally I had put to bed next to him) I had helped the visitor up, undressed him, helped him in someone else's pyjamas and even had praised his false teeth out of his head in order to brush them.
The visitor was nicely fast asleep and had to be woken up redressed and sent on his way home with an apology and a cake from the kitchen.
I used this story many times during my nursing career. It illustrated non personalised care, a lack of planning , an understanding and knowledge of your patients ( or lack of) and the danger of presumption when dealing with vulnerable people.
It was also a funny story, that although perfectly truthful could be embellished for comic effect.
Storytelling is rife in Nursing.
It's just a part of the profession as aseptic technique and enemas
The police and fire service have their own sages and stories that get passed down to the rookies and to the grand children and yesterday I received a message from an ex colleague who reminded me that I had told her this story during a particularly stressful night shift on intensive care.
It had got us all laughing
a funny fable can raise morale!
I am reminded again of the power of storytelling as I now look out of the kitchen window.
The outdoor service at the Church has started and a knot of villagers has gathered around the 13th century prayer cross in the graveyard to hear the Palm Sunday message
More fables, more stories
We all need them
This was when night staff were real men and where planing and tenacity were better virtues than all the fluffy things we learned at the school of psychiatric nursing circa 1983
Just me and an old enrolled nurse
Toilet visit, hands and face wash, clothes off pyjamas on, teeth sorted ...in bed
24 times.
I did one side of the day room.
The enrolled nurse did the other.
The dormitory filled slowly from eight pm.
By eleven pm we had just one bed left unfilled
And two patients sat in the day room!!!!
I scratched my head and looked bemused
The enrolled nurse scanned the beds and called me a fuckwit
I had just put a visitor to bed!
It turned out that the visitor had mild learning difficulties and had fallen asleep whilst he was visiting his father ( who incidentally I had put to bed next to him) I had helped the visitor up, undressed him, helped him in someone else's pyjamas and even had praised his false teeth out of his head in order to brush them.
The visitor was nicely fast asleep and had to be woken up redressed and sent on his way home with an apology and a cake from the kitchen.
I used this story many times during my nursing career. It illustrated non personalised care, a lack of planning , an understanding and knowledge of your patients ( or lack of) and the danger of presumption when dealing with vulnerable people.
It was also a funny story, that although perfectly truthful could be embellished for comic effect.
Storytelling is rife in Nursing.
It's just a part of the profession as aseptic technique and enemas
The police and fire service have their own sages and stories that get passed down to the rookies and to the grand children and yesterday I received a message from an ex colleague who reminded me that I had told her this story during a particularly stressful night shift on intensive care.
It had got us all laughing
a funny fable can raise morale!
I am reminded again of the power of storytelling as I now look out of the kitchen window.
The outdoor service at the Church has started and a knot of villagers has gathered around the 13th century prayer cross in the graveyard to hear the Palm Sunday message
More fables, more stories
We all need them
"Slightly Odder"
Yesterday was a mixed day.....started off odd....got slightly odder. Finished with an accident and a bit of a face bash.
I'll tell you about the "got slightly odder"
its more interesting
Yesterday afternoon I met up with a chap I was in Welsh Class with last year.
The welsh class went the way so many night classes do but I sort of kept in touch by the odd text with the guy who laughed easily and who also liked art house cinema.
He is gay, a former actor and drama teacher and is in his (very well preserved) early sixties
Yesterday was our first catch up since December.
We had coffee at a garden centre outside Chester
We talked at length about Stan & Ollie and how Theatre Clwyd needs to up it's game cinema wise in competition with Chester's Storyhouse
And I bored him silly with an up to date catch up of my mediation and newly singleton ways.
It was sunny but rather cold and I had to put my hands in my hoodie pockets as we chatted in the car park before separating for home.
I was sort of expecting the hug goodbye and hadn't managed to get my hands quite free when it came
but I wasn't expecting the kiss which followed it.
It was very sweet with absolutely no strings
and I kissed him right back
Lots Of Nuttin
I spied Gaynor the mad organist sitting alone in the village tearooms a few minutes ago
I think she was eating a sticky bun
She gestured wildly and asked if I
Could move the Church Christmas tree into the boiler room.
It sounds as though that the church is lacking some muscle.
My offer of my old cordless vacumm apparently has caused much discussion amongst the church glitterati as it has to be plugged in at all times and the vestry is lacking in sockets
The children from the school were lined up in front if the Church this morning all splendid in their blue uniforms framed by the bright sunshine
They chattered like monkeys and Liv Randa waved gayly when she saw me.
A woman at a nearby table is talking in a very loud voice about her recent colonoscopy luckily Gaynor is far across the room so cant hear..Shes the game sort that would say something
Im meeting a gay friend that I met at a night course last year for coffee later, after I pick up a wardrobe! He dresses well and speaks like John Hurt
Message to self......brush my hair and check top for gravy stains before we catch up
oh and don't forget the Christmas Tree!
Working tonight😲
I think she was eating a sticky bun
She gestured wildly and asked if I
Could move the Church Christmas tree into the boiler room.
It sounds as though that the church is lacking some muscle.
My offer of my old cordless vacumm apparently has caused much discussion amongst the church glitterati as it has to be plugged in at all times and the vestry is lacking in sockets
The children from the school were lined up in front if the Church this morning all splendid in their blue uniforms framed by the bright sunshine
They chattered like monkeys and Liv Randa waved gayly when she saw me.
A woman at a nearby table is talking in a very loud voice about her recent colonoscopy luckily Gaynor is far across the room so cant hear..Shes the game sort that would say something
Im meeting a gay friend that I met at a night course last year for coffee later, after I pick up a wardrobe! He dresses well and speaks like John Hurt
Message to self......brush my hair and check top for gravy stains before we catch up
oh and don't forget the Christmas Tree!
Working tonight😲
"I AM" , is to be seen over the Vestry Door and was painted by Leonard Hughes, RA, a local artist who was also somewhat eccentric and a recluse. It was presented to the Church on 1919, as memorial to the Officers and Men of Flintshire who fell in the Great War. It is said that local people, including the then Rector modelled for some of the various figures depicted in the painting.
the Church this afternoon bathed in spring sunshine
Sky Watching
All afternoon I have been number crunching with the delightfully well groomed Leanne at the building society
I came home with my head spinning and a headache as powerful as the Queen Mary's hooter!
So. I lay down In the garden to gaze up at the sky.
Cloud Watching is good for the soul.
I heard someone walk past, it was probably Trendy Carol in one of her floaty spring outfits
But I didn't raise my head to check.
In five minutes I was snoring loudly like a slumbering hippo
Bunny Boilers, saying yes and drinking tea
I met blogger Wanda for lunch yesterday.
Meeting "strangers" is not something I do easily, especially given the fact that we all know that there are some unhinged loons out there in Internet land.
On the surface, some people look perfectly ok, but cross them in some banal way and true colours can be shown and bunnies can ultimately be boiled.
Thankfully neither Wanda or myself are bunny boilers.
So we had an entertaining, chatty two hours over avocado on toast!
I have never really known a blog bunny boiler despite being trolled occasionally but I have once experienced a phone threat at Samaritans when we volunteers took calls exclusively from our own local area which totally unnerved me ( we now take national calls on the freephone 116123 number)
The caller in a suitably sinister voice whispered that he was sat outside the centre watching us and although it all turned out as a particularly sad hoax, my imagination galloped down all of those big dark house movies where the heroine is chased screaming down corridors and locked alleyways .
And so, like I said my lunch was suitably entertaining and I am glad I said yes to the invitation . This Evening I'm going to meet a colleague for a drink in an old Art Deco pub in Conwy. It was a pub that The Prof and I used to go to a lot, and it will be my first foray out to it since the split but I'm looking forward to go as the woman I'm meeting will, I think be great company
Anyhow speaking of boiling
Yesterday, after asking for a cup of tea at the cafe ( the cafe where I flirted with that cute guy even though I was covered in avocado ) I was presented with this !
The 26 inch waisted Barista dropped the plank with a flourish and rather theatrically lisped
" Have you ever taken tea here before?"
I almost laughed out loud and had the urge to say " No but I've been drinking tea for over 50 years"
But politely I said " No " with a smile
The barista then proceeded to teach me how to brew the tea
" You plunge the plunger thus !" he crooned plunging his plunger
" Then you turn over the timer thus"
The timer was turned
" Then voila the tea is brewed and is ready to be poured "
I tried to look suitably excited to keep him happy
Gawd help us
Camp Van
I'm meeting blogger Wanda for lunch today
She doesn't comment much now, but stalwarts of Going Gently may recall her often pithy one liners
that were usually full of sass and tartness.
I've made an effort in my appearance today, forgoing my second and first best Walking Dead T shirts for my favourite one depicting a camper van
What do I want to say by wearing it?
Answers on a postcard please.
Enjoy
Another case as last night's shift fucking up blog entries
I need another job or to be adopted by a gay aging millionaire with a heart condition and no living relatives
Cafe Culture
The delicate clematis that borders Meg's grave is in bloom and it and the few Hardy tulips that survived the rabbit raids of winter have given the front garden a little lift of colour.
I went to the Community Association's coffee morning yesterday.
If I hadn't gone I wouldn't have spoken to anyone until my Sams shift yesterday afternoon.
Mrs Trellis was upset at her table as her greyhound Blue was at the vets under observation. He had gashed himself on some barbed wire. She's a big believer in homeopathic medication.
But Homeopathic meds don't help rusty wire injuries
I took some old DVDs in to the swaps table and chatted to Ian and Nick from the association.
They are resurrecting the Flower Show this year with my guidance
I went to my favourite cafe for lunch. The cafe is called The Glass Lounge and its single, round faced waitress/barista reminds me of Helen Hunt in As Good As It Gets.
I sit at my usual table ( very much like Mr Udall) and so read because the service is usually very pedestrian to say the least.
Now I like this.
I like the fact the waitress is unhurried. There is absolutely no sense of urgency about her and although everything seems to get done, you can be waiting an age for anything to happen.
Like I said, I enjoy this. I enjoy watching others get impatient
I enjoy their unheeded glances when their flat whites are late
And I like the fact that when she eventually comes to my table she doesn't indulge in small talk
She won't be rushed, and I so like that .
I people watched for the two hours I was there.
A gay couple at the next table hated the service but said nothing. They didn't speak to each other either, preferring to play with their phones.
Beyond them was a lady with a disabled husband, both of them were reading the papers and beyond them a man with a dog. The barista brought over a bowl of water which I thought was nice.
when I had my first meeting with my divorce mediator, it was in this cafe.
The barista brought me over a bottle of water when things looked fraught which was kind.
I wanted to weed the garden this afternoon but I'm on nights again. This in and out isbuggering up my body clock
Hey ho
Hillsborough Park
Hatim was thirteen but was the size of a small ten year old girl.
His wheelchair was a child's size, expensive and lightweight.
Hillsborough Park Sheffield
Springtime many years ago now.
It was one of his first forays out in public
A broad smiling Iraqi boy paralysed by accident by a stray British infantry man's bullet.
Rehabbed in a Northern English City
He wasn't nervous or self conscious
That's what growing up in a Spinal Injury Unit does for you
He was just a little boy taking a Welsh terrier out for a walk.
The terrier was my Finlay and his lead was tied to the wheelchair in a tight knot
It was their second time of meeting
I watched them both from a distance .
Cheerful little boy and bouncy friendly dog,
Daffodils and bright sunlight,
And I felt like a father for the very first time
Brunei
I will rehash my previous slightly ironic condemnation of the sultan of Brunei's decision to push forward the new stoning Law for any man who indulges in gay sex ( and for any straight couple taking part in an adulterous relationship!
Aparantly Brunei is also known as an abode of Peace!
In your face Brunei...in your face
Aparantly Brunei is also known as an abode of Peace!
In your face Brunei...in your face
Thursday
The weather has been wet today
I'm on nights.
I watched a couple of films this afternoon.
A so-so Australian zombie movie Plague and a worthy civil rights flick Hidden Figures
I'm listening to David Sedaris
I found his rather moving comments about his husband rather painful to listen to.
There is a rainbow over the village and one base of it is perched over The Still House making it look even cuter than than it usually does
Old Trevor rang, he's been to outpatients today....I can stop giving him his daily injections
I've done them for the past seventy days or so.
He's the only person I have spoken to today
Albert is stiff but fine
I'm on nights.
I watched a couple of films this afternoon.
A so-so Australian zombie movie Plague and a worthy civil rights flick Hidden Figures
I'm listening to David Sedaris
I found his rather moving comments about his husband rather painful to listen to.
There is a rainbow over the village and one base of it is perched over The Still House making it look even cuter than than it usually does
Old Trevor rang, he's been to outpatients today....I can stop giving him his daily injections
I've done them for the past seventy days or so.
He's the only person I have spoken to today
Albert is stiff but fine
Albert now has 7 lives
Albert was involved in a low speed RTA tonight.
It happened in the lane during the dogs final wee walk of the day.
He was struck a glancing blow by a black farm estate pickup as he tried to leap into Animal Helper Pat's back garden after he had followed us up the lane.
Me and the dogs were standing by the Church lytch gate and saw him bounce back onto the road then leap again the four feet into Pat's herbaceous borders.
The man in the van stopped and kindly held the dog leads when I went after him ( It took me four goes to clamber up a PAT's back wall- oh the Shame)
surprisingly I found Albert quite quickly crouching by her greenhouse, his tail whipping from side to side in pure anger. He was less frightened and more angry
Winnie was quite disappointed when the farm Helper handed her back over....he had overalls on !
Winnie was quite disappointed when the farm Helper handed her back over....he had overalls on !
Apart from a bloodied ear, old Albert looked remarkably ok given the sound of the impact and after a sizeable wrestle in order to check for injuries he finally settled on the couch after eating half the contents of small tin of red salmon
This photo has been taken of him two and a half hours after the event
Milking it
These animals will be the fucking death of me
Bookshop
The weather turned again in the middle of the night and by dawn I could hear hail lashing against the cottage windows.
I had banked up the fire last night but the air felt cold and Mary, who had been shorn of her coat only yesterday, shivered and crept closer in bed, curling up under my chin.
I got up around 8 am
The village was deserted and wet and cold when we faced the day
I did see Polish Monika snug in her fur parka
She is the new caretaker of the village Hall and was going to open up
We chatted for a while...…... she's a sweet girl.
I feel brighter today despite the weather and as we passed Mrs Trellis' neat little bungalow and saw her head bowed over the keys of her piano, I thought it was a day for a mooch around a musky bookshop
I'm now off to find one
I had banked up the fire last night but the air felt cold and Mary, who had been shorn of her coat only yesterday, shivered and crept closer in bed, curling up under my chin.
I got up around 8 am
The village was deserted and wet and cold when we faced the day
I did see Polish Monika snug in her fur parka
She is the new caretaker of the village Hall and was going to open up
We chatted for a while...…... she's a sweet girl.
I feel brighter today despite the weather and as we passed Mrs Trellis' neat little bungalow and saw her head bowed over the keys of her piano, I thought it was a day for a mooch around a musky bookshop
I'm now off to find one
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