I was in Tesco’s in Llandudno junction the other night
I was buying cakes for the day staff.
I recognised the man as soon as our eyes met but couldn’t quite place him until after he had unexpectedly hugged me.
He was the husband of a patient I nursed several months ago now, well before lockdown.
The last time I had seen him, we had hugged
We exchanged platitudes, in greetings, in how he was, about Covid.
Then he said, after I had repeated How are you coping?
“ Grief has turned me into a bad person.”
I inclined my head why and he explained, The words tumbling out of his mouth in a waterfall
“ I hate it when I now see intimate little moments between couples” he said “ when they share a private joke, or they hold hands or they Play argue by the checkout “ he waved his hand behind him at the tills........“is that normal ?...
.............I resent people so much”
”It’s normal “ I told him suddenly recognising his “pang” of painful feelings from my own perspective of divorce grief .and I gave him my best brave smile and squeezed his forearm with my hand
He nodded sadly and we stood for a moment, connected
I noticed he had a block of parmigiano reggiano in his basket
My favourite cafe is busy with pre lockdown customers. I ordered a sausage butty and a very large americano and planned to read my book but with what's app messages coming in thick and fast, it feels as though I'm having real conversations. It’s not as good as the real thing but it will do.
Gorgeous Dave wondered if he had upset me,as I'd gone quiet since my night shifts and dr polly giggled at my gifs sent to her as she was in the middle of telephone consultations
What's app has been a life saver these past few months.
I’ve bought a small slow cooker from Aldi this morning for 9 quid and will make a casserole later it’s pouring with rain and quite miserable
An elderly lady is laughing loudly across the cafe and everyone is smiling
Shes just announced that she tried to butter a small round place mat
The Trelawnyd Street Wardens have been given notice of the impending lockdown by the ever gracious Velvet Voiced Linda . You can just make her out far left on the front row, her fashionable pant leg sidewards at a jaunty angle.
Even though, the initiative wasn’t only her idea, VVL made the whole thing work and she did it with diplomacy and a voice like chocolate.
These things seldom work without good leadership and at the original meeting there was many ideas thrown about, several of them not always constructive. But Linda ran with the good ones, commanded warmth and respect and got things done.
Not an easy job I can tell you.
In any forum
Not everyone in the village gets on.
Of course that’s a given, what with petty jealousies, power struggles and a previous middle aged patriarchy , and to be honest there is at least one person who I know hates my guts with blind testosterone and Mucho gusto!
I don’t care, as I know I am a person who speaks his mind,
It sometimes goes with the territory of being gobby and gay
But.....if I am being honest the feeling is bloody mutual...and is one stoked by petty behaviours witnessed when I was more at the front line of village activities....
Not quite the chocolate box village I often portray eh
But a very normal one, truth be told.
The decision making for Trelawnyd by Trelawnyd people is now much more diverse and eclectic
And that can only be a good thing. The community Council and the village association now run side by side which is healthy and with these and Linda’s wardens flexing their muscles, ready for a second wave we have good people prepared to fight the good fight
The dogs and Albert have been fed and walked and all are slowly settling down for the evening.
I made a low fat turkey lasagne for supper, which Winnie finished off as a treat
She now has tomato sauce on her forehead after cramming her head in the casserole dish
The framed print of Wyeth’s Christina’s World arrived from America today and I’ve hung it up the stairs where I can always see it from my armchair which sits just left of the inglenook.
I had another Covid based run in yesterday morning.
This time with a group of seven female joggers
It was unpleasant and upsetting
And this time I was on the receiving end of their righteous indignation
I was walking on the track or a former railway line with Mary and Dorothy when I heard them far in the distance . A set of joggers in close formation all shouting and laughing.
Their ages ranged from 30 s to 60 s
As they neared me I put Dorothy back on the lead and moved to one side to let them pass which they did .
But then they stopped filling the track as they gasped and talked and laughed all within inches of each other .
I called out a sharp “ Excuse me !”
and they moved to one side to let me pass but not before one of the women, buoyed up by numbers called out in a stage whisper
“Some People Are miserable,”
“ I’m not miserable but angry” I told them, whirling around
“You block the trail, are not social distancing , are spluttering and shouting all over the place and putting yourselves and me at risk of Covid” I said and added
I’ve just finished a twelve hour shift as a nurse with Covid patients so I know what I am talking about!”
(Well it was just one Covid patient but I thought it unwise to be pedantic)
The women threw back several comments but I only heard one naming one of their party a “ worker in healthcare”
“ Well she should know better” I told them suddenly realising I was on a hiding to nowhere
I started to move on
As I did so one of the women shouted “ We look after ourselves , we arnt obese Like you! ,”
I stopped and turned around
Shocked and upset at the personalisation and stupidity of the insult
For once I was lost for words and stood there open mouthed
“Really ? ......
Really ?” I asked shaking my head
Then I walked on
But the insult stung as it was meant to
and it was made worse because these women were middle class types , the ones that did care for their own bodies and ate healthily after a few kilometres run.
And I was a lone, invisible man who had dared to challenge them
Strange as it may seem I used to be a rather bad driver, but now with my lengthy daily commutes I have become a more confident and practiced one.
Another positive to come out of divorce.
I tell you this in way of a bit of local colour, for the main gist of the story centres upon me leaving the house early, early enough to bump into the new village leaders Ian & Helen who live down the lane
They were out walking their jaunty beagle.
Ian asked me if I had found my nurses Watch which he had in turn found in the lane and had placed it through Bluebell’s open window onto my passenger seat
I told him that I didn’t have such a watch and went off to search for it.
Dorothy had been there first.
The only thing left of the watch was it’s plastic case.
Like Captain Hook’s Crocodile she had swallowed the watch whole!
I’ve left a message to the watch’s owner on the village what’s app group saying that if anyone has lost it to please have a look on my garden lawn Later today
Dorothy is regular as clockwork and may deposit it after lunch!
The affable despot known as Jason has just phoned with a somewhat worrying tale of ghosts and ghouls
Now he is not know for tales of fancy but last night as he was putting out the bins on the side of his house on chapel Street he saw a stranger walking along the road.
The man was elderly and walked with the gait of a very old man. He was short , perhaps five foot five with a shock of bright white hair and although not frightened in any way , Jason stopped to watch the man as he had never seen him before.
As Jason stopped the man vanished
Now this is spooky
The area between Jason’s house and the chapel next door ( one of the oldest buildings in the village) seems to be a hotspot for the strange sightings of what is thought to be John Wynne the founder of Trelawnyd and village shepherd Graham as well as Auntie Gladys and several village schoolgirls have reported strange sightings of a man in a long coat standing near to the village hall which sits on Chapel Street .
I’m having a break from blogging for a bit but not from writing everyday.
That I would find an impossibility. I’m on my last night this week ( 48 hours total) after the same amount Of hours last week. Next week it’s the same
I’ve felt somewhat overwhelmed and not in the right frame of mind to publish
Yet I write?
Go figure.
I bought sweets for the day staff and an orchid for my trained colleague before I came to work as she has had a shit time recently.
Much shittier than mine .......
Lisa Tarbuck was laughing on the radio as I drove to work and this piece of nostalgia pleased me when she played it
I’m not sure, if I will post these mini snippets of daily life
But I will continue to write them until I feel ok to blog again.
I feel I have nothing worth reading or to share at the moment
11th October Sunday..2.20 am
He was waiting for his wife to pass away and she was comfortable under sedation. We talked about many things in the side room that night. But I particularly remember talking about Andrew Wyeth my favourite painter in those wee small hours before dawn.
We shared anacdotes, they were less painful than reality.
He appreciated my love for Christina’s world but didn’t share my affection for it
But, as it turned out we both loved Wyeth’s portrait of his wife Betsy in his piece Maga’s Daughter
Which remains in a museum in Seattle .
That was many weeks ago now and I’ve just been passed a note from the visitor, who was now a widower
He had found me a print of “Maga’s Daughter” in the US and was sending it me
I forgot my great niece’s birthday which is not like me
I’m not cooking on gas
Maga’s Daughter
Me looking at my much loved Christina’s World in MOMA New York 2014
12th October Monday10.35 am
I slept heavy. I always do after nights.
Yesterday my family met for soup and Cornish pasties in the garden
It was lovely but I felt lacklustre and boring
We are talking about Christmas ....turkey sandwiches and soup outside
It’s a new Way of looking at things
12th October Monday 6pm
I actually didn’t get up until 1pm.
It’s pouring down and miserable
I made cannon ball sized low calorie scotch eggs and spicy butternut squash soup
And I watched Sorry Wrong Number on the iPad as I did so
I feel brighter today
Bloody lovely
I feel better today
Rested and more in balance
The scotch eggs did it
Not the eating of said eggs ( I managed one at a push as it needed two hands to lift it)
But the planning and making of them and some spicy soup.
Me time...gentle space time
If I feel like this again (and more long stretches of nights amid lockdown are on the horizon)
Suo Gân is perhaps the most lovely of Welsh lullabies
It’s final verse talks about not being fearful
Do not fear it’s only a leaf beating at the door
Do not fear it’s only a small wave that murmurs on the seashore
I have my own personal connection with this piece of music as I now always associate it with my hospice Work
I’ve posted this before but I think it’s worth repeating but last winter as I was writing up notes after a particularly busy shift one of my fellow nurses, a welsh speaker started to sing the lullaby gently to herself as she completed her paperwork . From across the ward another Welsh speaking nurse suddenly joined in and as soprano and Alto they sang Suo Gân together quite beautifully
The lullaby wafting through the quiet rooms and corridors like a warm hand
It’s ok to acknowledge it, as most of us are experiencing a shitty time at the moment...
But it has been especially hard for me....there I’ve said it.
It’s been hard as I’m on night shifts that have exaggerated my separation from the real world...a life which has already been separated by Covid rules and lockdown.
My tentative move into sociability, cinema, friendships and contact external to my own bubble has been curtailed and so
I’m sad and I’m suddenly lonely
And I’m allowed to be sad......
Even though I hate it......... anyway conference calls to old friends Nigel and Cheryl have helped so much too,
Perspective gained....virtual hugs given
I’ve just watched Grayson Perry on his American road trip too
And I’ve realised, quite quickly, that I’m doing
A bit crap....but in essence I’m doing .....just fine ...
Apart from the necessary jobs , I’m intending to watch Bombshell the Charlize Therzon, Margo Robbie filmon dvd
I’ve made macaroni cheese for supper
It’s my sister in law’s birthday today so I’ve dropped off flowers and cake and a gift
She told me I looked rough
I do! She was right.
Gifts, whether birthday or otherwise do lighten the heart, I always think and today Kristi sent me one of her paintings which I complemented her on , on her blog. It’s a very welcome addition to my art wall and I’m sending you a big thank you for your kindness.....
( I must add here that I’m wearing another blog reader gift today, a lovely bulldog T shirt from Jackie D it made a welcome change from my now rather robust collection of Walking Dead t shirts)
Trump’s idiocy post Covid has left me speechless
As did his maskless wave to the nation to the avengers theme
Arsehole
I’m not watching the tv news now
The dahlia and rubekkia are blooming their last in the garden and look cheerful
Cheerful is good today
Ps
Bombshell proved to be an inspired choice of dvd purchase
It’s a wonderfully insightful and intelligent study of the sexual harassment of female anchor women from Fox News by the CEO Roger Ailes.
Worth seeing especially for Therzon’s powerhouse performance as anchorwoman Megan Kelly
The books I’m about to read are being stacked against the foot of my new Sofa in readiness of my days off.
I am yet to claim the sofa as my own as yet
Quelle surprise!
I note from the village what’s app site that Trelawnyd’s son poet and author Emyr Humphreys has died at the age of 101 in his Anglesey home.
Humphreys was brought up in Trelawnyd and many characters and situations described in his books were taken directly from his upbringing in the streets I know well
On the recommendation of Pippa in the rectory I have just bought his most famous novel A Toy Epic written in 1958
No doubt that will be placed on the pile for when the sofa finally becomes free!
