Happy Christmas xxxx 2023

 

     

This is my Christmas Card for you

My Followers

Of Happy Times when a man could love his turkey

freely and without prejudice

Its been a funny old year this year all told...... suffice to say that despite all of the shit in this world, this little part of North Wales plods along at its own particular pace and in its own inimitable way. 

There is something constant about things here, 

Going Gently isn't a notable blog, I have no insightful news references, no waspish political satire to share. it remains what it is ...a bit of whimsey where an ageing old spinster homo can complain about "cheap Christmas cards hastily written" in a world where Christmas Cards suddenly seem a creature of the past.

Idiots

Well last night’s blog entry went well.  

Apologies for not adding spoiler alert to the title.

I’ve now lost a half dozen followers 

Hey ho

Serves me right for me trying to be current.

I’m an idiot 

I’m on nights tonight, so will just potter cheaply today. I’ve had to buy a laptop for college which was a necessary but naive expense . 

Why can’t you do everything on an iPad ? I asked 

Well you can’t 

Plain and simple is the reply.

My machine is second hand and rebooted and sorted so will fit in quite nicely when I’m feeling pretentious and want to bang away at my homework in the Storyhouse cafe. 

I thought of going this morning but that’s just an extravagance. 

It’s fickle too.

And I bloody hate fickle. 

You see fickle all of the time here on social media.

Secretive and private bloggers who regurgitate great swathes of private information moments after they demand with a thin lipped, emotional just don’t ask . 

I can’t be doing with it.

I’m annoyed this morning can’t you tell? The guy who always lets his overactive spaniel loose on the walkways did so again this morning. He’s an idiot and although he accepts that his dog bothers other dogs by running into them and sticking his nose up their arses ,all he does is shout at his dog and move on. 

Dorothy and Mary have both bitten this dog several times , a fact that upsets me more that anything else. 

The dog needs to be on a lead, for his own safety. 

“ You’re  the arsehole not YOUR dog” I told him this morning, a somewhat ruder précis of the situation that the polite ones I’ve taken beforehand.

I’ve even changed the times the dogs and I take a walk so we don’t meet him

Some people are just fucking idiots

Out with anger

In with love

Matty

 

It’s really winter as Bake Off  has just finished and although the contestants this year have been a little bland it was nice to see the gentle , cheerful,  tattooed young teacher Matty win

My vote was always for Saku who acted as though she’d just stepped from an Ealing Comedy but I hope that scores of young men and boys in the country would now see Matty as a credible role model. 

I hope so

16.18

 

It’s almost twenty minutes past four

The cottage is almost dark inside, with just the gloom of late dusk illuminating my desk and grandfather clock. My knee is paining, so I sit in the miserable light for a while and write the blog .

And I hate this moment 

Almost as much as I’ve ever hated anything….ever! 

The gloom of getting home to an empty house in winter.

No cat’s tail swishing angrily against my calves 

No sharp paws 

No excited yelps and bouncy smiles from the dogs.

Home has to be reclaimed from the cold and the night

Bit by bit

Room by room 

The dinosaur fairy lights first, then the log fire, and the lamps in the living room.

The washing machine next then the radio, 

And the big Sitges bulb with its orange glow

All returning the cottage into a living place

The dogs trot in, heads up, expecting dinner

And we are complete again

My dogs and I…

And home

 

Christmas

 I’m late blogging today 

A hard shift yesterday 

An early night and a day in the library yet again .

My essay is in though, and I’m pleased. 

This week is another mixture of work, college and village

Two nights at work, college all day tomorrow with a recorded counselling skills practice to film and send in, and on Saturday it’s one of the/last set pieces for the TCA this year and that’s the Christmas Fayre 

My Mr Bumble Victorian outfit had been ordered a while ago and should be delivered by Wednesday and Bridget hits that we have a snow machine ordered !!! Which should be fun. 

A couple of the TCA lads ( lads!!! Older than me) 

Climbed up the village green trees to hang fairly lights in preparation 

It’s suddenly feeling like Christmas 

Perry

 

Clever, convoluted , witty, and challenging Grayson Perry proved to be a talented stand up comedian ,albeit one dressed as a clown crossed with Violet Elizabeth Bott.

He also enjoyed singing several home grown songs and the object of his attention was how we see ourselves , our identity, a subject I’m sure his wife helped him with, her being a psychologist of some note.

Perry is a trouper and an unapologetic storyteller

Who loved to call himself what he is, a national Treasure 

An interesting evening all told, even though Colin and I had to hurry a rather impressive meal at the Blackburn’s Arms beforehand. 

I got home around 11.30 pm and contemplated popping in to affable despot Jason’s daughter Eve’s 18th down in Dyserth. 

It was too late of course to go,  I’m on a long day in the morning , and I had called around yesterday to give Eve her gift and card, getting a lovely hug in return.

A Student Nurse

 

I got into work today to find the hospice short staffed. 

A support worker and staff nurse kindly transferred from our satellite unit to help and I allocated them to half of the patients with one of my own support workers  when I took the other half helped by a student nurse.

The student nurse was nervous, very young but bright 

She impressed me from the start when I asked her what was our priorities as soon as we hit the floor

Check on my patients she said with a smile.

It was a pleasure working alongside a young woman so open to learning

She shadowed me when I updated tearful families on changes of their relatives care and picked up on my use of language and humour when relating to another complicated patient.

On our break she asked me what my experience was in nursing and

When she heard I was originally a psychiatric nurse she nodded and laughed 

“ I thought you were something like that” 

By the end of the shift , she had planned my handover to another trained nurse and had agreed to implement it and I was leaving I overheard her explaining to some relatives an excellent précis of change of care plans with confidence and thought

And I thought how nice it was to have junior nurses of such promise on the shop floor 

When I was a charge nurse, she was the kind of nurse I used to headhunt for my spinal injury ward.

Winter

 It’s cold this morning

And I didn’t want to get up 

Dorothy didn’t either and cuddled up under the duvet, licking her lips

We listened to the wind for a while

Daring each other to move

I’m only doing a half shift at work so will finish at 1.30

I will be strict with everyone and will leave on time.

I have more study work to do for Monday 

This time an academic poster

I’m counting down the minutes I have to leave at 6.45 in order to get to work on time

Eggs on toast with coffee

My daily antibiotic has made me nauseous this morning

Feels like winter

Devipravaha

I’ve finished my essay.

I got to the satellite library just after nine and left it at 2pm

I left it because it got too noisy, travelling 12 miles west to my usual ( and very quiet ) Uni library along the coast.

Using a well heeled library in a rough part of north wales has been an eye opener for sure.

Apart from being noisy, it was a lesson in kids who probably need mountains of support and from what I could experience from my computer chair , generally got it. 

I listened from time to time, to the 1:1 guidance given to one girl with serious anxiety needs with pure admiration for the teacher/ aide, then watched as two library staff diffused the anger of a teenage boy who stormed about the facility swearing he was going to head butt some kid downstairs who had dissed him.

The activity was all too much for me.

And by 2 pm I asked the main librarian if he could find a quiet corner

He shrugged and said no he was sorry

“ I’ve never been in such a noisy library” I told him, not unkindly 

But he shrugged

“ What do you expect this is a FE college?” he said

and his resignation felt raw.

I left feeling somewhat stressed which made me feel awkward 

Give me a medical emergency or distraught relatives , life is a breeze 

Give me an unfinished essay on evidence based practice 

And I’m a mess.

And so , I drove to the quiet library and in three hours finished the essay and listed the references.

I had a massive headache on the way home 

Which was calmed by an ice cold Diet Coke and the above song gently playing on the car CD

Devipravaha is incredibly soothing to the non academic soul.

Where Does The Time Go

 This morning I took TCH * to the dentist . We have a nice barter going on. 

Dog sitting for car transport 

It’s a good deal. 

This afternoon I’ve written a quarter of my essay and mybib -ed the references. The library staff at the Rhyl satellite campus were far too loud but didn’t take exception at me asking them to keep it down

I think they thought I was a visiting member of staff.

I had a cheese toastie for lunch and sat with a group of 16 year olds who were merrily slapping each other in the faces and filming it for a laugh.

I bought some sushi for tea and fresh flowers from a struggling florist, a shop I also bought a single white cyclamen from, which I intend to give the eldest Randa girl who is 18 on Saturday along side a trendy girl clothing website voucher 

It only feels like yesterday we were disembowelling pumpkins, blowing duck eggs and back combing William until he looked like Tina Turner.

Speaking of birthdays, it’s my nephew Leo’s today

We are off the London in the New Year to see a show, that’s his gift but I’ve sent him a dvd of Oppenheimer too…and sang him a recording of Happy Birthday , sent in messenger

He’s now in his early twenties….and was non plussed with the singing

* Trendy Carol’s Hubby

Oh no Giselle

 

Giselle at Venue Cymru was produced by the vague sounding  Classical Ballet and Opera House productions.

That should have warned us.

Perhaps 200 people at a venue built for 2500 was another clue

The third indication of a totally amateurish evening was the rather hefty ballerina in the back row of the Willis ( willies) 

Janet and I got an attack of the giggles a third through the way of the first act when no one seemed to be actually dancing

Once you’d had the ROH you don’t go back.

A third rate production at a second rate theatre

What a shame

I’ve turned into someone fairly objectionable (my  troll will be moist at that statement ) 

A ballet snob!!!!!

Memories of watching the willis entering the Royal Opera House stage overran everything

Two dozen Corps de Ballet , their heads covered in veils , moving as one animal across the stage like the ghosts they were meant to be

I remember, having tears in my eyes.

And the gasp from the audience as they floated in front of us.

“We’ve been spoilt by Covent Garden ”Janet said, summing up the evening 

But we did giggle like schoolgirls on the way home

When Tourette’s collide

With some of the bad humour still evident in my earlier blog comments 

This video should make everyone smile 

Accepting and wonderful warm 

Enjoy

 

LGBTQIA+ ( spinster)

The Community is growing 

From my well known LGBT we have added QIA+, terms Im just getting used to in the gentle backwater of  North Wales

So I’ve recruited Stonewall to help clarify any confusion ( with myself)

Queer

Queer is a term used by those wanting to reject specific labels of romantic orientation, sexual orientation and/or gender identity. It can also be a way of rejecting the perceived norms of the LGBT community (racism, sizeism, ableism etc). Although some LGBT people view the word as a slur, it was reclaimed in the late 80s by the queer community who have embraced it.

​Questioning

The process of exploring your own sexual orientation and/or gender identity.

Intersex

A term used to describe a person who may have the biological attributes of both sexes or whose biological attributes do not fit with societal assumptions about what constitutes male or female.

Intersex people may identify as male, female or non-binary.

Stonewall works with intersex groups to provide its partners and stakeholders information and evidence about areas of disadvantage experienced by intersex people but does not, after discussions with members of the intersex community, include intersex issues as part of its current remit at this stage.

Asexual

A person who does not experience sexual attraction. Some asexual people experience romantic attraction, while others do not. Asexual people who experience romantic attraction might also use terms such as gay, bi, lesbian, straight and queer in conjunction with asexual to describe the direction of their romantic attraction.

I hope that makes everything clear. ( I added spinster as my own term of reference.

Anyway, it’s Monday now and I’ve two nights out and lots of assignment to do with my other non work days. Grayson Perry ( an evening with) is on Saturday and Giselle on Tuesday

Plans

 

I wish I had seen the Royal De Luxe Giant puppets when they came to Liverpool back in 2018. 

It is unclear on their website, that there will be another “ performance” anywhere…..which is sad.

The puppets are on my list to see, wherever and whenever they appear again.

I also want to experience a sleeper train. The British one from London to Cornwall is all booked up on line so I will have to looked further afield  unless there’s an easier way to book. 

It’s another ongoing plan  

New York is booked and on this visit I want to include The Museum of the Moving Image, the free tour of The New York Public Library and The International Centre of Photography.

2024 is going to be some new, and different experiences 

I’ve decided that today on this bleak, rather wet Sunday .

I’m on nights tonight, and have been day dreaming the morning away , whether it be on my morning walk or coffee time at the kitchen table. 

Plans are afoot. 

The dogs are steaming gently in their reading chair

As I daydream of puppets striding through streets and the gentle lull of a train journey though the night

 

Make Your Own Kind of Music (1972) - Julie Andrews, Cass Elliot

Saturday

 I drove to Hooton then caught the train into Liverpool Central.

Within minutes I walked up a busy Bold Street and met Nu in the Vietnamese restaurant  Pho 

She’s meeting old friends up the coast later so it was lovely to see her 

Two hours shot by, like the wind 

The dogs were all still asleep when I got home

I so lucky living where I do, 20 odd minutes from Chester and under an hour to Liverpool

Best of both worlds 

Answers On A PostCard

 I’m on the way to Bangor which is a Godforsaken place.

I’m attending a study day of six hours but add the travelling and the time spent will be over 8 .

It’s a pretty drive all told.

And One I can treat myself to a MacDonald’s coffee with.

It’s a last blog today all told but what is your treat of the day?

When things are a bit tough, when life is just that bit too real

What do you treat yourself to? 

I’d be interested to know

Catch Up

Chic Eleanor nodded and sipped her gin 

I told her I had stalked my ex husbands’s wedding on social media last weekend 

And she smiled 

I think we all would have done that she said kindly 

And I think she was right 

So how did it feel ? She asked carefully

And do you know that it felt ok I told her

I saw an in law family I once loved posing the same poses they did at my own wedding

And I saw my ex husband looking older and heavier and balder  and happy as he danced with his husband 

And in that very moment I let him go

After a long five years, I let him go …….

Eleanor listened to my words and smiled her benign smile again 

And she reached forward and held my hands firmly on the table top

As we sat silently in the chatter of the pub, 

Holding hands 

And the tears that followed were the relief

At The Ballet

 

Confessional: The Scotch Egg Incident of 2011

 I first told this story to my group in University and on a roll repeated it to my table at the Village Casino night.

They say confession is good for the soul.

So my soul should be squeaky clean.

By now….

Picture this…..Trelawnyd 2011….It’s summer August 13th ….Sylvia Evan’s blood pressure is through the roof as she and us, her Flower Show minions, set up for another record breaking show. 

Domestic class entries are through the roof, this year and as usual I’m helping with the organised madness that is Judging Day.

It’s 11.55 am and setting up closes at midday.

Sylvia is very strict with her timings 

Mona Davies arrives breathless, with seconds to spare . Her entry, a scotch egg, the only one in its class , wrapped in clingfilm on a saucer in her hand .

The scotch egg, is huge, the size of German grenade.

It is a thing of pure beauty 

I almost heard heavenly music when I first set eyes on it 

Now I liked Mona. She was a spinster school teacher and elder sister of farmer Basil , one of the most highly respected countrymen of Trelawnyd . They shared the beautiful Ochr y Gop farm, a slightly dilapidated Georgian farmhouse at the top of high street, and I was lucky enough to interview them both for my history blog , oral histories which have now been archived by the National Welsh Library in Aberystwyth. http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.com/2011/05/mr-basil-davies-miss-mona-davies.html

Mona was strict and fair. She didn’t suffer fools either and was an amazing cook.

I fell in love with that scotch egg the second I saw it

Look closely the egg can be seen centre table to left

Now of course Mona won first prize for her glorious egg. 

The elderly judge, who was not know for flights of fancy , even commented how magnificent it was and gave it a comment of merit which was a rarity 

Now fast forward to the Flower Show final moments which have always remained a complete bunfight

The hall is packed with winners collecting their winnings (coins placed  in tiny brown envelopes) and exhibitors grabbing their certificates, exhibits and extra cakes bought from the tea table manned by Irene Murray .

And in just a few minutes the hall can be stripped, like a carcass surrounded by hyenas .

I noticed that the scotch egg had been abandoned at the end of the day

Mona had left it ! 

I was joyful 

Excited 

And devious.

If it had been abandoned I was having it.

So I pocketed it as deftly as if I was jewel thief and

I hid it in my Flower Show bits and bats box as the show folded and the doors closed. 

I had swept the floor, put away the rubbish and said goodbye to most of the committee, before there was a small knock on the Hall door. 

It was Mona and she was late collecting her scotch egg.

Sylvia found the saucer and Mona’s first place certificate but was thin lipped in anger at the thought someone had taken the egg home. 

We shook our heads at the awful thought someone had stolen it 

And Mona took her certificate home with a slightly heavy heart

Am I ashamed ? 

Of course I am

But do you know what? 

It was the best bloody scotch egg I have ever tasted

EVER!!!!

The delightful Mona Davies

Shortly before her death in 2021

The egg in close up