Roses Around The Door


* thank you


I got home around 2 pm and found that I’d not stockpiled  antibiotics as I thought. It took me until 6 pm to  sort out a prescription from out of hours. 
I felt like shit until bedtime but I did sleep a broken , toilet visiting sleep
I feel better this morning
Washed out but better. 
I’m going to ask my urologist for long term antibiotic therapy.

I’m pottering around the cottage today.
The sweet peas look lovely on the wisteria arch with the  purple buddleia providing a striking backdrop. 
The climbing rose by the front door has burst into flower
 





I think I’m the owner of the only cottage that actually has roses around my door. Well to be honest roses and honeysuckle .
It looks lovely 
I’m a bit tired today…Dorothy and I mooched on the trendy couch…me reading , she snoring. 
Mary is upstairs on the bedroom window seat watching out for rabbits.


Then,only an hour ago.when I reviewed my junk folder emails , I saw that I was supposed to start an Opera Appreciation Course at the City Lit at lunchtime. I had forgotten about it as I was supposed to be travelling home from London today….what fun……every cloud has a silver lining ….

So fortified with a bucket of coffee, a big pee and another antibiotic I’m now set for some  culture 

* thank you to Keith from Sheffield for the t shirt you didn’t give me a return address for me to thank you properly ….I’m wearing it today x

Bloody Hell!



 Mave was right in his comment of yesterday
“ Rough” was exactly how I looked.
I looked rough because I was ill. 
Two long days on shifts on the hottest days of the year prior to almost two days walking around London had left me dehydrated. 
In the bustle of work and pleasure I had forgotten to drink and by Borough Market , I felt my lifelong nemesis, a rip roaring urine infection, set in. 
By the time I got back to my hotel to change for Nu’s get together I was passing blood and was shaky.
I am susceptible  to urine infections , for reasons I don’t need to go into here and I was angry at myself for the fuck up but I knew all I could do was to hole up in my hotel room and drink gallons of water .
So that’s what I’ve done, with around three hours sleep. 
An irritating end to a lovely couple of days and I’m feeling sorry for myself 
It always seems that I’ve pulled myself up by my bra straps only to come  crashing down in some sort of physical or mental jacuzzi ….
I missed Nu’s party and today I will miss a mutually flirty soho lunch and cinema at the Curzon  with my friend Alex which was a let down but the only thing I need now is to rehydrate, and take some prophylactic antibiotics I have at home 
….And rest
Hey fucking ho

Borough Market

 


The Photographer’s Gallery visited this morning.it’s tucked away just off Oxford Street. Then clothes shopping. Then Tate Modern briefly, before meeting my great niece Ellie at Borough Market.
I’m knackered and just having a coffee before tubing it across town to Ealing to meet Nu
I had a Ginger Pig scotch egg for lunch.
I could hardly carry it

"Prayer" from Come From Away


I have seen Come From Away before, but I haven’t seen an audience so hungry in their enjoyment on what was on offer. The comedy musical had a standing ovation first time I saw it but last night’s performance had everyone on their feet well before the last song had been sung.
Even the actors looked surprised.
I think Come From Away with its message about finding goodness in adversity had a resonance with a post lockdown audience. It’s a feel good sticking plaster in a sometimes ugly world 

Revisiting An Old Friend

On my way through Chinatown soho


Tomorrow, after some shopping I will meet up with Nu and a lot of old faces.
Today, I’m on my own
London was hot this morning, but not as drastically hot, by all accounts as yesterday.  I popped down the Northern line to Waterloo and ambled under the trees on Southbank’s Queen’s Walk, where I drank coffee and watched people for an age. 
From there I mooched back into town, had a drink in Soho and perused the bookshops and arty bespoke shops down the side streets of Covent Garden
I am now having an early dinner at Dishoom on upper St Martin’s Lane before I go to the theatre.
Dishoom was a favourite restaurant when I was married. 
It was nice to reclaim it again.

Going to a restaurant on my own is another milestone for me. Before I’ve always had the cushion of friends to buffer that feeling that I am a singleton. But today, I’ve grabbed the bull by the horns and booked myself a table…FOR ONE !!! 
It’s all rather New York….well that’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

Dishoom has delightful food.
I’ve ordered the spicy lamb chops, the house black daal, the gunpowder potatoes and a Naan.
My iPad is my buffer, but to be honest, I realise that no one gives a flying fuck if I’m sat on my own or with Sarah Jessica Parker. 



I’ve told you already that I’m returning for a second visit to see Come From Away tonight. The musical has reopened just yesterday and I adored its story of kindness and hope amid the chaos and destruction of 9/11, when I first saw it.
For those few that don’t know, Come From Away explores several themes and stories set during 9/11 where over seven thousand people were stranded from  38 planes in the small Newfoundland town of Gander. The townsfolk had to house and feed AND clothe the passengers during those very dark days in 2001 and that story makes for an uplifting, tale of the goodness of people.

Hot


The heat wave continues 
Little sleep….bit cranky 

 

Ruth

 God it’s hot 
I’ve just joined all of UK social media by mentioning this 
I can complain a bit because I’ve just done 12.5 hours in PPE 
I SMELL like a sumo’s nappy.
Thank you to manager Emma who arranged for some Italian ice cream to be dropped off for staff and patients xx it was bliss 
It was 9.30 pm when I sat down after work, the dogs are panting in the 21 degree evening heat 
The house is ready for Ruth to take over tomorrow when I’m off to London
This is my friend Ruth
A lifesaver, my dog baby sitter , hospice nurse extraordinaire, mindfulness advocate and loyal friend 

I love this photo of her and mary


Agapanthus

 Hospice flower Beds




Best Laid Plans

 
Come From Away

I’m going to London again on Friday.
I will be returning on Monday.
Originally the weekend was more or less sorted. 
Friday was geek day with my nephew Leo, ( we had obtained tickets for comic con for an exhausting 8 hours looking at super heroes and zombie killers ) and Saturday night was booked Nuala’s post covid friends from far-from_away…get together. 
Sunday I’m planning to meet a friend Alex for art house cinema and soho drinks…so the bare bones planned seemed an electric mixture which I could dovetail with some niche London on-my-own things.

Covid has meant Geek day is cancelled until November ( my nephew was incredibly sanguine about it all) and Nu’s party has been cancelled due to track and trace.
Undaunted I’m filling in the gaps 
So people give me some ideas…fucking hell I'm still going

I have pockets of Friday, Sat and Sunday to fill…..Friday night I’m going to see The musical Come From Away again and Saturday night will still be “Nuala” time but apart from a few hours on Sunday afternoon with Alex , I have lots of time to do interesting things….so what do you suggest? 
I’m working all day. tomorrow , so will have only tomorrow night to sort out my ( your) ideas
What fun….
Can’t wait …..
What do you recommend ? 
Hey ho xx

The gayer the better xx

Warm


 This was the view of Llandudno this early morning

Glorious. I'm back at work


Dumplings & Love

 

I forgot to photograph my dumplings 

Later in the year the village is holding a What did you do during lockdown ? show.
My entry was going to be a sweaty balloon NURSE covered in PPE but after some thought , I think I will prepare a plate of Japanese Vegetable Dumplings or Gyoza Dumplings.
Gyoza dumplings are half fried , half steamed dumplings that can be filled with a mixture of any vegetables you have to hand. I tend to use carrot, cooked onion, and cabbage, ingredients that make the filling taste sweet, but shiitake mushroom, spring onion and tofu can be added ( I don’t like tofu) add lots of garlic and ginger a bit of soy and some shredded chicken or crushed prawn if you need meat and bingo low calorie stuffing. 
The dumpling skins can be bought frozen on line, I get he happy Belly ones on line .they cost around 12 £ for three packets
Stuffing the skins is a bit fiddly at first but I learnt by watching this video 
As for cooking , it’s easy!  you pan fry them with some sesame oil 
, but you add water to the pan and cover. The water evaporates, steaming the dumpling on its sides but the bottom of the dumpling will go crispy and brown.
Today I prepared a healthier lunch by just steaming my dumplings but you run the risk of them going soggy.
They taste just as good though.


I’m having a thoughtful time today. It’s hot and I have nothing planned but choir later and I’m in two minds to go to that, seeing that choir practice is now outside. 
I find singing outside, away from the safety of being shoulder to shoulder with my fellow bases very embarrassing. I know I shouldn’t , but I do, and embarrassment is an emotion I just do not cope with very well. 
I’m weighing it up anyhow…..over coffee.

I’m listening to a podcast of an interview with Kenneth Williams 
The interviewer has just asked him if he has ever been in love.
It was a question Williams side stepped 

Then I thought…how many times have I been in love.
I’ve had a long thought about that one 

In my life ……three times……you?
 




Ally mcBeal


 This afternoon Mary and I went to Colwyn Bay
We went to see the new( and very short new Pier) 
It was too hot for Dorothy.
We were standing , looking at it, when I heard a woman’s voice 
“ Hello there” it called
I didn’t recognise the woman but felt I ought to
She introduced herself as the sister in law of one of my favourite patients! One who I will call Holly
I placed her then, of course I did ….
We chatted about things!lockdown and her husband and her work and she asked me to thank the hospice staff for their care but before she left, with a shake of hands she said 
Thank you for dancing with Holly, She told us about it, it was a very special moment for her “ 
I laughed
“ It is me to who has to thank her” I told her “She made me dance in public , something I could never do” 
I told her the story from my perspective 
One day, as part of our last conversations together, Holly asked me what things would be on my bucket list, if I made one….after a long think
I shared that I always wanted to dance in public 

She asked me if I remembered Ally McBeal , and specifically the scenes when the cast would share an over choreographed dance to the velvet voiced Barry White
I told her I did and on impulse we danced the dance together. The music from her phone and me in my uniform and she in her expensive Italian bathrobe that dwarfed her. 
I remember that
She placed her bed table in front of the door , like a teenager to prevent any one else from walking in. 
And we giggled like schoolgirls as we did so
It’s always been my best hospice memory 



Summer Evening


Mr Poznán  caught me watering the Women Institute’s flower bed at half past seven. I had already checked on the village green beds but all those had been watered by one of the wardens.
I was hot and sweaty and I joked that the exercise would burn more fat off me  
Mr Poznań looked serious and told me not to be so hard on myself , he had already noticed that I’d lost nearly a stone and a half.
 “ I’ve noticed that You have a habit of dumbing yourself down “ he said kindly “ you don’t have to do that” 
His smile was disarming and I found myself suddenly a bit emotional.
He patted me on the shoulder as a goodbye. “ You need a man friend “ he told me looking at the watering can

I have a habit of indulging in self depreciating humour. 
Of course it’s a defence mechanism…and as I watered the plants  I reminded myself of the lesbian comic Hannah Gadsby who once specialised her act at one time with self put downs 
She described what she felt about thus


“ I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor and I don’t want to do that anymore. Do you understand what self-deprecation means when it come from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility, it's humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak“

There is a resonance in her words
 

Summer

The village from the West

 The temperature gauge says 22 and sunny but it feels hotter than that. Dorothy  couldn’t take a long walk so we took advantage of there being no sheep in Graham’s fields and the girls ran around for just five minutes before wanting to go home to lay their nipples on cold concrete, 

Albert joined us as per, but he too found the sun too fierce and so retired under a giant Beech tree like a lion.
We left him watching a couple of foolish rabbit pups with narrow eyes.
He’s still bad tempered .

It’s Sunday morning and the shooting range over in Trelogan is in fine form. The putt, putts of the shotguns echoing around the valley hills like fireworks at New Year.
I’ve heard a cuckoo, just once which is rare

There is a heat haze over the village and it feels deserted , like a Spanish village at noon

Thank goodness the elderflower cordial I prepared three days ago is ready to drink.

Sisters


My sister Janet had her beloved dog Jess put down today.
We were meeting up with our elder sister Ann for dinner tonight 
That dinner carried on without her…
It was understandable she couldn’t attend.
and We missed her.
I felt better that I gave Janet some flowers yesterday, I sort of preempted today’s decision…
And as I left Ann’s this evening SHE gave me a bunch of sweet peas 
Too and fro 
Back and forth …
Ann and I and the family talked about songs and memory tonight
Songs that spark memories that are everlasting 
I have one such memory from decades ago
My sisters and I were driving home after a concert or a theatre visit and it was dark on the country road, 
We burst into a spontaneous version of  drink drink drink from The Student Prince
And as we sang the main words my sister Ann who can’t sing a note burst into an operatic “ arrrhhhh” an acomptiant  to the libretto…It was so bad that we laughed and laughed  until we cried.

Such memories make a family’s love 



The Church Meeting


 In the graveyard there is an ancient prayer cross. 
It dates from the 13 th Century and was a focus of prayer and the sharing of news long long before the church was built.
Yesterday the amiable and rotund Vicar with his sexy young curate in tow held a meeting around the cross to discuss the future options for St Michael’s.
I thought they looked a little like Batman and Robin in their black.
I was worried that few people would turn up, but was pleasantly surprised that in addition to the smattering of regular worshippers many of the non practicing residents of the village arrived.
A good thirty to forty people were stood or seated in between the gravestones and the cross. 
I looked around from where I sat on the grass, my bare feet itching on the clover, Affable Despot Jason with Liv, Mrs Trellis with her surgical mask firmly in place, Pippa from the Rectory, many of the members of the Community Association and the Women’s Institute were there, Sailor John too as well as a smattering of younger people I didn’t know.
The numbers were encouraging 

Some of the Villagers 

Islwyn , the village elder, who had single hand idly transformed the new cemetery from disrepair to bowling green chic stood under the shade of the sycamore and made a strong speech about community spirit, as did Tim from Plas y Dre Ucha. Who I would like to introduce Chic Eleanor to. And there were many questions asked as the vicar gave us the four options the Church has.
It was a sobering listen. 
1) The Church could stay as a Parish Church but that would mean a new Church Committee would have to be formed with the responsibility of raising their allotted share of money for the Diocese yearly. The upkeep of the Church coupled with these costs were guessed to be around 12 thousand pounds a year
2) The Church could be adopted by Friends of Friendless Churches who would keep the building but would show it as a sort of museum
3) The Church could possibly become a Pilgrim Church supported financially and physically by the village. In this guise it could still be used as a place of worship ( approx 6 services a year not including funerals ) but it could also be used for other purposes, such a meeting place, food bank, community venue or whatever to be used by the general community.
4) The Church could be sold off, although access and use of the graveyard would be carried on

Village Leader Helen , led the meeting and people were asked if they would like to volunteer their help to whatever choice they thought fitting.
I looked at my laburnum, standing tall , just off the path behind us.

And hoped that things will work out for the best.

The Horror Of Old Cat Food

 

Ever since he was a kitten, Albert has been fed on the window ledge in the kitchen.
Like most cats, he’s a faddy eater, so at any one time , foul smelling , pieces of meat, licked clean of gravy , sit in his bowl like some nasty witches’ brew. 
I have to remind myself to empty and clean Albert’s bowls and in an attempt to recycle any old food, I tend to hurl the contents over the garden wall, and lane into the Churchyard where the rooks from Well Street swoop down to consume it.
Now a while ago now , I once flung a bowl of wet left over pasta into the graveyard only to pepper the side of a farmer’s land rover as it passed unexpectedly and I’ve narrowly missed shaving the top of village Leader Ian’s electric “Creeping Jesus” car, with a stale hard half bagel 
Today I peppered neighbour Mandy with two day old kitty Kat as she hurried past, but at least she was laughing as I belted out an apology. 
It’s a beautiful day today.
It’s the vicar’s meeting this afternoon outlining the possible future of the church, he’s meeting on the grass near the prayer cross
I won’t tell him I’ve been chucking kitty kat into the cemetery 



The Curse Of The Village Wardens

The new lavender borders on the village green

 The Trelawnyd Women’s Institute have centred some of their considerable power base to spruce up the flower beds and borders of the village green. They asked for donations and plants to help the work and
As I got home fairly early, I went out to lend a hand.
The conversation not only centred around plants and shrubbery but also the fact that that many of the village wardens have had mishaps recently. Karen M had sustained a fall in her garden as did Nick from Well Street and village leader Ian has a surgical boot after snapping a ligament as he was pottering at home. All this tempted  fate, as when I was showing off humping watering cans full of water from Affable Despot Jason’s house , I felt my back twang painfully.
I knew what to do, I went home , took a painkiller and tried to keep moving, but the pain was rather intense so I plumped for plan B which which was Valium.
Back pain is often all about managing spasm and Valium or diazepam is often an emergency drug of choice. So I rang a friend in the village who I knew had some and he kindly popped two tablets to me within twenty minutes.
I thought I had taken 4 mg of diazepam but as the tablets kicked in I suspected I had in fact taken 10 mg so by 8 pm , I was nicely off my head and giggling happily at shit on the tv.
The pain is back today , but not so sharply, and I am trying to potter to keep myself going




Tears Before Bedtime

 

I’m relaxing at home with a cup of tea with Sheffield all done and dusted.
The drive home clocked up just under two hours, and that was from Dronfield ( where I’d had coffee and cake with friend Kathryn ) over the Derbyshire Moors and down Snake Pass…..a glorious drive.
The one thing that can be said for a divorce is that it’s made me a better driver. 
I really enjoyed the drive, much nicer than the train.

I arrived in Sheffield just before four and met my friend John for a late lunch at Browns at St Paul’s Chambers at five. I haven’t seen him for the best part of a year,  
Now John, on his best form can be described as a performer par excellence. Arch, camp, funny, waspish……think Tallulah Bankhead crossed with Bette Davis sprinkled with a bit of Sondheim and you will get the gist. 
Over the last few years John has been dealing with cancer. He’s upfront and open about it and indeed has faced his condition with all of the fortitude of Carlotta Campion out of Follies , but even though I am up to date about how things are, his recent weight loss caught me a little by surprise.
We talked about it, but then, as always, we laughed and gossiped and laughed over a leisurely dinner where 2 hours flew by like swallows in a blue sky.
I had planned to meet two other friends in All Bar One and was delighted when John joined us. He is at his best when playing to an audience. And we all had a riotous time, like the silly, boozy ones we had when we first met way back in the 90s..

John was the first to go, and there was much swishing and “ darlings” bandied about as we hugged our goodbyes. I watched John walk off for the tram to Hillsborough his figure very slight, almost frail but his wave jaunty and pure Showgirl and  I promptly burst into tears

My friend Mike, a burly, very straight Yorkshireman understood, as did Jane and both of them each held my hand until I sniffed a few times and felt better through the tears.



Sheffield


 Post lockdown …..we all needed a blow out
Hummm I have a hangover
We had a blast xx