Mooching

It’s colder today

I had some lilies delivered. 

They were left on the kitchen wall wrapped in brown paper.

No note.

I’ve put them in the shrimp vase in the kitchen window.

They smell lovely

I feel flu-like today and my arm aches , both normal reactions to the covid jab. So I’ve done little but read and eat pot noodles in bed with my fleece pyjamas on . Subsequently  the cottage became very cold by mid afternoon.

I lit the fire late

And went out to see old Trevor as he passed on his daily constitutional . I promised to take him for his covid jab when he finally gets an appointment .

He’s 95

Tonight I’m taking part in a Gay Mans online Pub Quiz on zoom for the first time which will prove interesting.

The dogs are dozing together on the couch 

The Rainbow Hospital

 

The hospice rang me at home this afternoon with the offer of a first Covid Vaccine.

I jumped at the chance and managed to get the 590 th slot at the newly converted Rainbow ( Enfys in Welsh) Hospital in Llandudno .

From the get-go I was impressed. 

I was ushered to a parking space at Venue Cymru and a huge man in RAF uniform made it clear in no uncertain terms when the queuing “patients” could go in.

The Airforce had taken control of the whole kaboodle and boy did it show.

Within seconds I was ushered through the theatre foyer and was given an information sheet to fill in, seconds later uniformed airmen moved us through to the former conference centre which is the hospital proper where we waited, supported by volunteers, until the vaccinators were ready.

I have not seen inside a Rainbow Hospital before but I was totally blown away by it. 

I could have walked into any district hospital of note rather than what was essentially a field hospital , knocked up by the army in just a few months.

Behind me was a Nigerian Doctor and in front was a community care worker, both caught my eye with the same impressed expression. 

And as we waited the doctor admitted graciously that he felt rather “ humbled and emotional “ by the whole experience and I agreed.

We were seeing the Best of British organisation , military style.

I was shown into a bed space were a clerk completed my paperwork and a nurse gave me the jab and moments later I was led for a sit down before being let out for home

The whole thing from start to finish lasted 30 minutes.

An attractive and cheerful airman bid me goodbye and as I walked to my car, I suddenly felt rather emotional just as the Nigerian doctor admitted to feeling when he and I realised the enormity of the project in front of us

Mobile

 

Ever since my phone fell in the loo ( after I had just enjoyed a robust number two) it has not worked, very well. 

I bit the bullet and rang Tesco Mobile on Monday and the delightful Leanne organised me a new phone with various bells and whistles on it and a monthly tariff much lower than the one I had been enjoying.

She giggled when I told her to treat me as an idiot during her sales pitch 

And did exactly what I asked her.

I have been navigating my new phone today and I must say that

I’d rather be setting the parameters on an ITU ventilator for after four hours, my brain is totally fried and

I’ve had to recover my having a bubble hot bath with my face covered by a wet flannel.

I spoke to Nu today, she’s working on the covid wards now in London  

How do you do long days ? She asked

With difficulty I told her

We swapped laughs and reviews on tv programmes 

She looked tired.

I do miss her.

I saw Pippa from the Rectory earlier today, she was being dragged down the lane by her long legged Mongrel, Meg.She only just managed a controlled stop in order to chat.

Her husband is probably enjoying the most cerebral covid pastimes she told me after the village gossip was over

“ he’s reading the Bible in Greek “ she said proudly 

I opened my mouth but said nothing

How can you follow that ! 

  

Song along

 If you are feeling a bit low watch this

It’s a song by Eurovision stalwarts and it exudes Bonne Amie

It’s what Europe is all about

CROQUE MONSIEUR

 

The time difference between Australia and Wales makes for relaxed chatting a little difficult .

When it’s 8 pm gin time in Trelawnyd it’s 7am coffee time in Sydney but undaunted by this my old friend Nia arranged a meet for both of us but under the strict rules of cooking together .

I’ve never done it before and I must admit it’s great fun 

We chose to make a proper Croque Monsieur from scratch 

She in her high tech, sun kissed antipodean kitchen , me in my slightly chilly but perfectly IKEAn version. 

It was lovely, as neither of us had much news of any note to talk about, so we would share snippets of what was happening in between yells of “How’s your bechimel sauce coming along ? “

“ ohhh I can hear sizzling !”

An hour and a half later, the croques were crumbs and we were reminiscing about the fatly comical kookaburras I remembered watching in her garden only five years ago .

It was lovely 

Our next meet will be in a few weeks time. 

We are going to paint together in acrylics 

An abstract painting 

Sounds like fun

Nia ( front) with my arm around her circa 1980

The rest are my family and friends 

We were in the audience of a production of Oklahoma my Aunt was starring in 

My Study

 

Albert and the old bedroom

I have a spare bedroom in the East Wing of the cottage. 

It’s small and full of clutter at the moment. 

A Victorian copper bedstead and mattress , a book case, an Art Deco grandmother clock, old books, a carpet cleaner. 

This week I’ve decided to make a proper study. 

A simple one, with less fussy walls and decor.

A desk, a chair and the bed complete with an antique french bedspread , I bought last year but never used 

It’s a small room and it needs to be simple 

I need a place with limited distractions, if I am to write

So today, I’ve been shopping 

I’ve not only ordered a new phone , but a desk and an office chair

The paint I already have, the gentle buttercup yellow of the living room.

Not bad a job for my first day of holiday 

SKYFIRE

 

Just sat through two gloriously awful hours of Chinese disaster movie SKYFIRE  

A total homage to those 1970 disaster movies I loved so much as a teen

Dreadful but intensely entertaining 

Rubber Chicken

 

Sailor John from next door brought a package around for me today 

He had opened it, thinking the package was for him.

I wondered why he raised a Roger Moore eyebrow when he delivered it.

For in the parcel was very small, bright yellow rubber chicken 

It was a gift from blog reader Donell. 

The chicken has a odd skill as when it is pressed a small red egg protrudes from some sort of prolapse out of its arse...

It made me laugh, as it was intended to do.

Thank you Donell. 

For years I have been in receipt of many many similar gifts from scores of lovely people who follow Going Gently . The gifts are as varied as the givers .

25 kilos of hen feed and two bales of hay, arrived one day a long time ago and since I have received scotch eggs, a patchwork quilt, books and photos and paintings and art work. Hand knitted and crocheted items, walking dead T shirts and games and memorabilia . Dvds, doggy treats, plants and flowers, sweets and goodies and even a Steiff  scotty dog and money have been sent and all gratefully received .

Today, I’ve walked on the beach.

Prepared pulled pork and sauteed potatoes for lunch 

Tomorrow I’m meeting a friend from Australia on zoom. 

We have the same recipe planned  and will talk and cook together which is another lockdown phenomenon , born out of lonely days .....

I’m looking forward to it. 

Two dogs on the trendy couch look incongruous as do the Christmas card garlands around the room 

I need a third

And I need to fold away the cards 

Hey ho

 

Phone

For who it may concern ... I am having problems with my mobile phone at the moment 

Cold

 It hasn’t gotten much over freezing all day.

The neolithic burial mound on top of Gop Hill is dusted with snow and stands out in relief against the blue sky.

On and around it are the black spots that are the village children and their squeals of delight as they snowball and sledge can be heard down at the cottage, where I have lit the stove early.

Trendy Carol tottered past on the ice wearing a smart faux fur number

I dozed in the armchair after an icy walk.

But I didn’t dream of Mr Hemingway again,

Which was a shame .

Snow and Hemingway

The snow has fallen fast over the Eastern Welsh hills, so much so that I just had time to buy some logs  before Bluebell slid precariously over the road East of the village

I was glad to have finished work for a week. I am tired

Last night I slept on my break , my head resting in my hand

I had a dream that I was dating the writer Ernest Hemingway, I’ve always had a bit of thing for him

He had a thick moustache and heavy stubble and wore a blue woolen jumper with a hole at the neck and he had a touch of dandruff

He also looked 60 which surprised me as I only consider myself as a “young” middle age thing

 

But he had the voice like chocolate and kissed like Doris Day every time I passed him in the kitchen doorway

So I didn’t mind much

 

He also stood smiling at me as I hurried around the cottage looking for Mary to walk before I went to work.

And I tried to cling onto that image when my phone called me back from break with a vibrating tinkle

 

I was very pissed off that it was a dream

 

very

Mary, Dorothy bounce with a friend when out with the dog Walker

God Loves A Trier

 I’ve had my hair pulled, face slapped  and my face mask pulled off several times tonight

Violence seldom happens in the hospice and it’s usually only a product of terminal agitation.

Everything is quieter now but I’m watching the sleeping patient closely. 

Intensive care prepared me well for such occurrences.

It’s only 1.13 am

I’m not complaining , I’ve just read that my former colleagues on the local intensive care unit are having a real crap time of things see link

https://www.dailypost.co.uk/news/north-wales-news/north-wales-intensive-care-consultant-19570872?fbclid=IwAR2PTgdI6rXp6rEvr6fNjSZ5tjGU01XRJ8agZ-PKCWz2qzV_iX2Rj14MLGA

I send them all my love and respect

So many people have forgotten those Thursday nights 

When we clapped for those on intensive care who tried so hard to help the victims of the first wave.

I will leave you with some frivolous and some hastily snapped shots of Albert who has decided that in Winnie’s absence he will settle for a “mini me” in the shape of a somewhat perplexed Dorothy.

God loves a trier 

Never Far From Me

My patient was listening to a message from a best friend living under lockdown in another country

I was changing the medication in their syringe driver and was doing so very quietly.

The message was in the form of a song that I recognised and it’s effects were understandably profound and incredibly moving to watch

I’m on nights, covering sickness then I have a week’s leave.

I try to book a weeks holiday every eight weeks or so.

The stressors of hospice work are very different to those exhausting times, I remember on ITU and Spinal Injuries. They are subtle and insidious and lockdown makes recharging a little more challenging 

Any time I feel low
I just don't know how you know
You are never far from me
You are never far from me

Once again, there goes the phone
How could you possibly know

You are never far from me
You are never far from me

Before the time that you go
There is something you should know
You will always be in me
You are never far from me

The song is a beautiful one. 

The scenario I observed was a beautiful one too...but terribly sad......

And after two night shifts, I’ve sorted out to cover sickness I am off for a whole week 

Weak Sun

 

The chimney sweep is here!

A visitor! 

How wonderful.

He’s a cheerful chap, behind his mask and has already asked where his “ Big bear helper “ was.

He was genuinely  sad  when I told him that she had died.

To give him covid space I took the dogs into the Churchyard and sat on one of the benches facing south.

The weak sun took an age to warm my face and for the first time in weeks I sucked in as much vitamin D as I could.

I didn’t notice old Rowenna’s walking stick until it poked me in the back

“ Mr Gray ! “ she said brusquely but not unkindly “ I haven’t seen you in a long time!” 

“ I have been on night shifts” I told her

“ I have been told you are working too much” she told me 

Word gets around , I thought

Rowenna is a stalwart of the Church and strangely is a far distant relative of mine. She lives next to village elder Islwyn who she always refers to as Billy. Her sister Barbara used to be the champion baker in the village and could knock out fifteen different cakes and a pot of jam in just one morning before the flower show.

Like many older women of Trelawnyd She has a sing song welsh voice and seems always in a hurry.

Dorothy grew bored with the conversation and started chewing my crocs so I made my goodbyes and walked back to the lane where I bumped into Meirion from Maes Offa

He was walking alone , so I just knew his old dog who always accompanied him, had just died . 

He looked awkward as dog walkers always do when without a lead in their hands.

We shared dog stories as Dorothy tap danced for attention again.

He looked sad.

And I tried to be kind.

I put the dogs back in the car and watched my cottage for a while. 

I was waiting for the sweep’s brushes to poke up through the pot before I returned home.

The cottage looked warm and sweet in the weak sun, and the walled bluebirds flying towards the lane , glinted briefly an azure blue

Neighbour Mandy darted down the lane and she waved 

Then jumped when Bluebell’s horn let off a sharp Parp! 

Dorothy again, this time jumping on the steering wheel

Merv’s racing pigeons scattered above the lytchgate   

I waved back at Mandy and looked up at the cold blue sky

I am home 

Eartha

England heading to tier 5

Let’s smile at this fantastic piece

Ms Kitt singing in Japanese 

I LOVE IT 

 

Hostiles

The final scene of the film Hostiles is one of the most powerful, I think,  in recent times.

PTSD sufferer Christian Bale is saying goodbye to the woman( Rosamund Pike)  and child he saved from an Indian attack  and now finally after a whole lifetime of abuse he has the option to join her ( and salvation ) or carry on hating his Indian foes and perpetuating his hatred for ever ....at the very last minute he quietly chooses salvation, and I remember leaving the cinema after I had witnessed this , elated and rather hopeful

How many choices do we all have that actually shape our lives for the better like this 

Answers on a postcard please.

Sunday Lunch

Tier 4 has gotten  me into some awful ways .

My day off and after walking the girls at 8am, it was back to bed until midday.

Not good and a very bad habit to get into.

I’ve chided myself for it this afternoon and had a brisk and very cold walk on the beach in way of penance.  

When I returned home I roasted a lamb shank and made Yorkshire puddings from scratch. 

When they were cooked crisp, I shredded the lamb and filled them and added proper gravy made luxurious with cranberry jelly.

I ate my lunch watching How The West Was Won 

Mary won the lottery and had the bones all to herself

I washed my uniforms for the week

and read several chapters of The lost Language Of Cranes before falling asleep in my armchair.

Back to normal

Coffee on the way to work 

 

Rubber Chicken Immortalised

Winnie’s Rubber Chicken is being framed for eternity .

I have thought this strange thought ever since I found rubber chicken next to Winnie on the kitchen floor just before Christmas. It’s kind of become synonymous with my dear old girl.

I rang the picture framer the day before yesterday, (the one I’ve used for years ) and asked if it was possible to do 

“ You want to frame a rubber chicken behind glass” the picture framer repeated slowly after I had thrown the proposal to him 

“ Yes” I told him cheerfully “ it was Winnie’s favourite “ 

The fact , that he might think that this question was in any way odd surprised me, after all I could have rang him with the request that he framed the last surviving slipper of sex, which I had incidentally found amid a ton of fluff under the bed only a month ago

The picture framer then  ventured into territory he wasn’t quite prepared for.

“Do you want an insert into the frame  some wording .” He asked 

Oh that’s a good idea” I told him. “What about the following” 

“ Winifred Salote Taupo III Queen of Tonga 200? - 2020 “ 

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone

“ I think we can do that “ the picture framer said finally and rather weakly 

He then paused, obviously thinking 

“ What colour frame would you like ? “ he asked 

“ Pink!” I announced loudly 

“ Of course!” he sighed “ Of  Course you do “ 

 

2021

 

This beautiful hand painted card is my New Years Message

A dear blog reader sent it me a year or so ago,

 and it sits next to my favourite paintings in the living room

It’s  message resonates to this day.

Just take my name out and put in your own 

That’s all any of us can do, just keep swimming

It’s 6 am and I’m sat at my kitchen table with my bucket of coffee preparing for work

Winnie’s rubber Chicken is looking at me

And I’m sure he’s smiling