Fellowship

 Last night was the most Christmasy I have felt, thanks primarily to Storm Bella, a living room full of scented candles and the film The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society 

It’s a lovely film and is one that strangely resonates with our own lives under lockdown.

In the film the Characters are under curfew of the German occupation of Guernsey. 

Isolated from each other and from any cultural fellowship.

Isola Pribby is a lonely spinster waiting for her Heathcliffe to turn up in her life, Amelia Maugery a widow overwhelmed with grief, Eben Ramsey a grandfather and postmaster and Dawsey Adams an isolated pig farmer. 

All are hungry for the spark, a literary society meeting gives them, but more importantly it is the friendships that evolves from that shared experience that proves the most significant for each of them.

The experiences of these film characters, will resonate with many of us in blog land ,for we too are little islands in isolation from others.

All in need of connection, 

To feel a part of something

Blogging is our own Literary society meeting

I’d love to say that I’m a sort of Dawsey Adams , but in reality I’m a bit of an Even Ramsey crossed with a Miss Pribby

Boxing Day

 

I missed the Queen’s Speech. 

Dorothy, Mary and I met up with my sisters and in laws and we had a walk up Craig Fawr which is a limestone hill which overlooks Liverpool Bay.

Afterwards we ate turkey baps with cranberry and pigs in blankets ( a bab is a bread bun to btw) and swapped gifts.  

I was very fortunate as my sisters added a new scatter cushion and some John Lewis cutlery to my collection . 

I now have the ideal number of both! 

I made a gravy filled Shepherds pie, walked the dogs before Storm Bella hits home and

Wrote my blog half watching Calamity Jane 

Later on I will watch Korean zombie movie Peninsula which was another Christmas DVD  Gift, this one from my nephew.

Dorothy watched over me

And will do all day 

Her sadness continues 

Scotch Eggs, gifts and a fat Cheerful Virgin Mary

I did indeed sleep most of Christmas Eve.

Dorothy attached herself to me like a limpet and watched me snore for the longest of times with wide worried eyes. 

Since Winifred died, she has never left my side and her increased neediness has proven difficult as her relations with Mary are now more strained and increasingly volatile. 

Of course this will eventually settle down

But her increased sadness is worrying.

Like I said we slept most of Christmas Eve.

It was odd not to be organising food, wrapping gifts, listening to the ever depressing Carol’s from Kings or delivering last minute gifts.

And by the time afternoon came there was a little shrine of gifts dotted around the kitchen wall, back door and front door knob.

A cheerful bag with goodies in the the affable despot family. Mince Pies from Hattie, two bespoke scotch eggs wrapped beautifully by the Camerons, books from Wendy & Alun and an unsigned rubber chicken from Aldi with a label which said “ I saw this and thought of You !” on it.

I ate one Scotch egg whilst watching  Disney’s Moana, took a lovely phone call from Anne Marie in Philly then dozed a bit more before walking the dogs again and leaving for work.

I caught Tesco’s in Llandudno Junction just before they closed with alongside panicked husbands looking for non utilitarian gifts for their wives , I ran around and bought four bags of  party food. 

The ward manager hadn’t organised food for the nursing staff over Christmas so I took it on myself to get some..... (a product of years of doing it myself in Sheffield ) and so with a willing support worker in tow, I assembled the tables with covid appropriate foods ( small individual packets and bottles and tubs) all ready for the day staff to enjoy.

Christmas isn’t Christmas on a ward unless you have a food laden table draped with sheets secreted away in a side room for the nurses to nibble on between tasks.

My straight colleague zoned into his inner gay side by arranging swathes of holly into vases for decoration

I was rather impressed

 

We booked another take away for supper ( this time an Indian) and shared it again with the patient who enjoyed yesterday’s Chinese. Then we FaceTimed an ex colleague who was working in the next hospice along the coast and laughed a little 

It was Christmas Day before we knew it.

In between nursing jobs, I labelled some tins of gin and tonic for the day staff and wrapped a few gifts of my own.it was then I remembered Mrs Trellis.

On the way to work I spied her on London road her head down against the cold dark wind. Her bobble hat sticking out defiantly ahead of her

She was heading for the cottage

I stopped the car and she dropped a gift, through the window and onto the passenger seat with all of the aseptic technique remembered by the retired midwife .

The gift was wrapped a green felt and was tied with garden twine fashioned  into a bow 

“ You always giggled at Christine Davis bringing in the baby Jesus” she said in way of explanation

And as I drove away I remembered  all too clearly being in fits of giggles when Rector Robert commanded rather  theatrically for Christine the Church Warden to “ Bring In The Baby Jesus !”

The small figure , being transported in an upturned palm towards the nativity scene laid out before the pulpit.

The Christmas Eve carol service with nativity was an old tradition I always went to in Trelawnyd.

Last night the Church looked old  and cold and lonely.

As did Mrs Trellis 

and I wished I would have thanked her more when I finally got around to opening her gift from my place behind the nurses station .

For wrapped in tissue paper inside the green felt was a rather naivé but charming Baby Jesus alongside a plump and cheerful Virgin Mary, splendid in blue.

 

Christmas Eve

 

The nativity left by my friend Ben at work

It is quiet in the hospice tonight. The staff ordered a Chinese meal for supper which we shared with one of our younger patients . The only patient who could manage to eat.

He was worried about his erratic blood sugars but the prospect of a sweet and Sour ball finally won him over.

He cleared his plate.

It’s a funny day Christmas Eve isn’t it? ...and to be honest most of mine will be in bed with a neurotic bulldog glued to my body. But if you are not busy with traditional preparations , the day tends to be a time for reflection and of memory.

I don’t want to be haunted by melancholy thoughts tonight, for it is still the night when I write this and only minutes ago I have just stroked the hair of someone muddled and restless until they fell asleep...

I miss my hair being stroked 

Hey ho

Do you remember Christmas Eve last year ? I was working here, on the same shift and hadn’t been here long.

And at roughly this time, I stood and listened to a colleague singing with a patient .

The patient was sipping Sherry and my colleague had a voice worthy of any Welsh Chorister and the moment, in the dark of early morning, was as magical as anything Disney could have envisioned.

I am remembering those thoughts. 

It’s a different Christmas for all of us, this year and it’s been a funny old 2020 all told too....and show girl that I am , Ive decided to listen to Judy sing as I sit in the dark.

She says it better than anyone 

It’s such a lovely song

It’s worth repeating 

A Christmas Story 1984

I have told this before but it’s well worth a repeat.

1985, I was a second year psychiatric nurse just starting my “ Long Term” placement on Action Ward at the West Cheshire Hospital in Chester which optimistically called itself a rehabilitation ward.

The patients had already been rehabilitated within an inch of their lives, and non were deemed well enough to be placed into half way house facilities in the community.

I was still very much a new boy at work, and it showed as many of the patients ran circles around me in an environment which reminded me very much of old institution and concrete thinking.

It was Christmas week and my responsibility was for an older patient called Ivy.

All I really remember about Ivy was that she always wore a smart red coat buttoned to the neck and smoked roll ups very precisely. 

She had been in hospital for neigh on thirty years and was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic 

For me , she was benign, polite and compliment with care.

An ideal patient to supervise on a winters day duty.

The Wednesday before Christmas she was allowed to withdraw ten pounds from the hospital bank and together we made a list of what she wanted to buy for Christmas. 

Her list was sparse , given that she had no known next of kin; a few toiletries, tobacco and sweets that was all. So together on a late night shopping day we caught the bus into Chester.

We went to Boots, had coffee in Marks’ cafe and finally ventured into Browns Of Chester to see the Christmas lights. 

Ivy took my arm gamely as we braved the crowds.

We looked like Gran and Grandson rather than nurse and patient.

My confidence increased.

As we passed the perfume counter , a plastic looking woman with a bottle offered Ivy a squirt 

Would Madam like to try some of this?” 

Ivy stopped for a moment and my heart froze for a second but then she smiled and holding her hand out 

Said “ Oh Yes please” 

The plastic saleswoman beamed and gave Ivy a generous squirt on the wrist which Ivy graciously sniffed saying 

“oh That’s nice what is it ?”

The saleswoman sensing a sale homed in “ Its new from Dior Madam , it’s called Poison” she crooned

Everything stopped for a millisecond 

Ivy paused, internally I panicked at just what a paranoid schizophrenic might make of this information and the plastic smile never left the plastic saleswoman’s face

A moment later Ivy nodded and seriously replied with an appropriate “ Oh it’s very nice “ 

I sighed loudly as Ivy’s pupils suddenly went a little darker 

And the old lady reached forward and touched the saleswoman on the arm 

“ I knew Hitler  you know “ she whispered loudly and as the woman made a perfect O with her lips she added cheerfully

 “ He had a gigantic cock! ” 

 

Cards

The Christmas Cards have filled the living room, kitchen window and the baby blue bookcase in the living room.

This pleases me. 

I’m shallow enough to think this is a good thing.

Cards posted with care and attention mean more now I’m older.

I’m the second to last on the postman’s delivery route and he never gets by much before 3pm...so today I’ve left him some mince pies in a Christmas themed plastic food box.

Working tonight

Tier 4

This afternoon,  I’m waiting for the post to arrive like a child would.

I’ve cleaned the back patio of the slime and the leaves, a product of rain every day for a month, and have walked the girls several miles .

Another nothing , lockdown day.

Dr Zhivago is on the tv

I had forgotten just how beautiful Omar Sharif was.

The Best Time

 

On a day I was due to catch up with my best mate Nu

A video catch up with Jane and Mike , old friends from Sheffield 

Made up for things

And for going on two hours all we did is laugh and laugh and laugh

I love you guys x

Soot

 

I’ve spent a dirty morning sweeping the chimney.

Last night, I suffered the peril of relying on a wood burner too much

A blocked flue and a very sooty cottage.

So I swept the fire and then ambled around, mucky, to deliver Christmas gifts to Trendy Carol, Animal helper Pat, Mandy and Sailor John and to Jo ( the young mum and Street Warden who kindly dropped a load of dog food off for me when I was isolating )

Other villagers were outdoing the same thing, including Cameron out walking his pugs. 

Cameron is a strapping young man in his 20s

Now when did that happen?

Wales is now in lockdown 4 and the Christmas Cards have filled the living room walls already.

A Final Sausage

 

The Welsh lockdown starts at midnight

Lucky I’ve already done a big shop this week.

I made a small turkey lasagne for supper tonight, and as I was doing so I found several left over cocktail sausages hidden away on the fridge shelf. 

I gave the dogs the sausages with their tea and kept one aside

I know I’m a bit of a show girl but I thought it apt that I tearfully planted it with Winnie’s ashes that had already been scattered on the flower beds

She would have loved that

Tired Thoughts

Almost finished nights, just waiting for day staff to stagger on duty, all blearily eyed.

I am now off for three whole days!

I have just been sharing with my colleagues how Eba, my old cleaning lady in Sheffield , used to mutter “ dirty boys......dirty boys” under her breath when she was scrubbing our bathroom 

( I have no idea where that nugget of memory came from, but I have to accept it was just a product of over tiredness) 

It got everyone laughing anyhow.

The village is collecting homemade Christmas decorations in order to decorate the village green on Wednesday. I will join in before Next week’s night shifts.

Animal helper Pat dropped off a Bara Brith covered in silver foil yesterday, and Rosemary and German Bernard from the far side of the village did the same with bottles of jam and chutney.

I’m having a walk later this morning with friends including Chic Eleanor. 

We’ve planned a proper coffee on Colwyn Bay Beach.

Eleanor predicted the amble will be “ glorious” 

My Sunday trip to see Nu is definitely off .....😭

I haven’t seen her for nearly a year.

The vet called, Winnie’s ashes were there to be collected.

I thought this odd as I had not originally requested any , but I collected them anyway.

When I got home, I found that my sister had left a planter and some primula plants for her so in the rain I sprinkled the old girl around the front garden 

As Albert watched wide eyed from under the holly bush near the front door

baba Yetu

 It’s just two years since I joined the choir

But we have not sung properly together for going on ten months now.

I am missing it so.

When the choir “ got” a song, and when I say “ got” I mean when we nailed it, Jamie our 1940’s  RAF moustached choir master would often encourage us to to leave the circle in which we sing to experience the harmonies from another perspective .  

“ Walk around and listen” he would say and although I often find physical movement within choir embarrassing , when I finally did so, I was always amazed by how beautiful we could sound

Just thirty people , most of us with no experience in music.

All singing quite beautifully together

I’m finding Tuesday zoom choir meetings somewhat difficult. Singing alone in the kitchen, to a prerecorded track isn’t the same as choir and again my natural ability to become easily embarrassed can take over from the raw confidence singing within a group can give you.

I miss the solidarity of being part of a whole.

I miss the psychological boost of endorphins when my natural shyness starts to disappear in melody

Does that make sense?

I miss those voices around me. 

I miss being enveloped in the magic of the noise we can make

I miss those acoustics of the village hall that makes us sound so much better than we are

This song, Baba Yetu is the Lord’s Prayer in Swahili 

I would love for us to sing it when we meet up, again, properly.

A Thought

What day is it?

Who knows 

This video  really pleased me 

 Why do you think that is so?

Answers on a postcard

A Pig In A Condom

 

I got up and walked the dogs at 8am.

It was grey and humourless outside so we went back to bed until 1 am

Then I walked the dogs for their long walk and fed them and we returned to bed again

I didn’t say it was going to be an interesting post. 

I was just dozing off when my work what’s app group pinged .

Apparently the Welsh Government has given a 500£ One off Thank You payment to care home workers for their battle against covid but workers in hospices were exempt from this gesture of goodwill  

The hospice management team thought this unfair and today matched that thank you for all front line staff

A nice and timely thought 

If anyone reading this think that this payment is not deserved they could have seen an overly sweaty me being pulled out of a plastic PPE overall by two support workers after a twelve hour shift

I looked like a melting pig in a condom 

Terrier

 London is in lockdown 

My planned visit to see Nu on Sunday looks like it may be off.

That’s broken my heart just a little.

I fell asleep before choir tonight and only managed the last few minutes 

But I did manage to frame by latest bit of art

A terrier’s face

Have Yourself.......

I finished night shift at 8am yesterday morning, today I have off and tomorrow I am back on nights for three.

No wonder I woke up this morning without a clue what day it was .

Last night I joined the Trelawnyd Women’s Institute  for their Christmas Concert.

Now it wasn’t a Sherry fuelled sing song with Bunty and Pippa leading a much spirited Can Can sort of do. Ma Manly with daughter Kelda had booked a bona fide Scottish Folksinger Iona Fyfe to perform which proved to be a cracking idea.

I really enjoyed it 

There was lots of chatter before the main event. Gwawr from Bron Haul sat with her new baby Jack , Cameron’s mum looked every inch like a Downton Abbey character , surrounded as she was with expensive looking oil paintings and Village leader Ian looked rather dapper in his cottage study.

I did notice that Margaret from Erw Wen didnt quite get her iPad straight so we could only see her nostrils for most of the evening.

The concert itself was sweet. Iona Fyfe has a lovely ballad hugging voice and her remit was to keep things light which was an ok decision but it was her atmospheric Christmas songs that made the most impression 

Her rendition of “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” backed by villagers swaying gently in front of their fires and Christmas trees proved to be an incredibly moving experience.

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas ,

Let your heart be light
From now on
Our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yule-tide gay
From now on
Our troubles will be miles away

Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more

Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Traditions

 We all have silly traditions when it comes to Christmas.

It’s the time of year where memories float forward into psychi again, like an ebbing tide ,

and traditions visited again, gives you a sense of time and place and person and emotion.

I have only one full day off before being back on night duty on Wednesday, and so after a sleep I thought I’d hang the Christmas cards already delivered around the living room

My tradition is to fill every wall in the room.

It’s not a big tradition , but like all mini obsessions, it’s pleasing when it’s completed.

I’m three quarters completed so far.

The bad tempered postman dropped off a delivery of cards this afternoon, sending Dorothy into a mild state of low anxiety. 

Albert has not moved from his new position in the bedroom window seat. 

He was carefully watching Trendy Carol pass when I last saw him 

She has a new bright orange puffer jacket .

Mi Bon Siach

 If you have the chance watch the tv series Unorthodox 

It’s the story of Esty, a nineteen year old ultra Orthodox Jew living in Brooklyn and her struggle with coping with her secular life.

This moment stands out as one of the most powerful I have ever seen on film as Esty, ( Shira Haas) auditions for a place in a German Conservatory which is her final ticket to a more mainstream and happy life.

The power and desperation  in this performance , which incidentally is a traditional Jewish wedding song ( Mi Bon Siach which means The Love Of A Bride) is amazing 

I watched this final episode yesterday afternoon, as I lay in bed.

It was a piece of film making so powerful I had to get up and walk it’s effects away.

I’m not moaning here, life alone is what it is, but I so needed to talk about the scene and how it made me feel inside and I couldn’t ! 

So had to walk away my thoughts around the village , which was cold and wet , yet filled with cheerfulness and bright lights and after 20 minutes I felt less tense and more relaxed

Unorthodox is not an easy watch, but it is a powerfully emotive one with a magnificently performed lead role .

Julie

 You forget just how good Julie Andrews is

This is a somewhat cheesy Christmas version 

But listen it it with your eyes shut

Sublime 

Off to work in a bit 

A Rose , A Puffin, The Women’s Institute Concert and a 24 year old thank you!

 I’ve talked of serendipity a great deal on Going Gently over the past two years .

It’s a phenomenon that has swing into my life like the pendulum of a great clock

And like a good clock, it’s presence has been timely.

Last night’s shift was a busier one than normal. I was knackered afterwards , and when I had breakfast this morning, I ate left over coriander salad with chicken out of the side of my mouth as I leaned sleepily across the kitchen table still in my uniform

I looked down at Dorothy who was licking her lips from her position in Winifred’s arm chair and told her to bugger off 

“Its been an emotionally  tiring week!” I told her, but unlike Winnie she didn’t understand my words and just looked guilty.

Winnie would have nodded benignly and would have mew mewed me a kiss.

I was in bed only ten minutes before a rather gorgeous delivery driver knocked on the door

The box was large and contained a standard rose for the garden.

The roses depicted on the accompanying label were old fashioned yellow and scented and called “ Winnie” a gift from my friend Colin 

A wonderful gift , and one that couldn’t be more timely 

The girls and I went back to bed feeling happy and warm.

An hour or so later another delivery man knocked .

He left a small square package, a gift from another friend

The card accompanying it said simply a puffin for an old dear poof...add it to that bloody art wall of yours

I returned to bed and slept.

When I  did eventually woke I noticed a message on my phone from the Trelawnyd WI .

They have organised an on line Zoom concert for Monday and wondered if any of the villagers wanted to join in. The singer is Iona Fyfe https://ionafyfe.com/

So there is Monday evening sorted ....village elder Ian says he’s quaffing craft ales during the concert.

I think I may have some gin left over in the fridge.

Iona Fyfe

Tonight I feel much brighter because of the rose bush, and the puffin and the concert.

And of this short note which popped up tonight from Facebook messenger 

“Hi John, you probably can’t remember me but I was an inpatient at sheffield spinal injuries unit in 1996/7, at the same time that the then nikki Claxton of gladiators came was there. I was just chatting with another fellow inpatient of the time,  and he mentioned the sheffield SIU friends page and there you were! You were such a terrific charge nurse and helped me and my family through what was an incredibly difficult time so 24 years later, a big Thank you to you for really making a difference all those years ago.

I hope this finds you well.Best wishes, Amanda”

How lovely!!!! a thank you message 24 years “ late” but like the rose bush, and the puffin and the concert invitation...oh so timely.

Serendipity? Perhaps ?....it’s a funny old thing