Llanasa

 A couple of miles northeast of Trelawnyd is located the pretty village of Llanasa. Smaller and quieter than our village, it has grown from a rural settlement dominated by two large farms and a large private house ( Gyrn Castle) into a collection of designer houses owned by people with money. Some aspects of the old community does survive however as the village still has its church and congregation and a robust WI based in the old schoolhouse.

Last night’s talk took place in the village, and I knew several of the ladies there, including animal helper Pat and Cameron’s mum.The talk by Helen Papworth was about her book The Butterfly and the Bee, which discusses the relationship between HM Stanley and his wife Dorothy. 

It was a good listen.

Afterwards.I drove around the village and noted how much had changed since I was a boy. 

http://www.llanasa.wales/

Llanasa circa 1971 “my”farm right foreground

                  Rona 

In the early 1970s Llanasa was my Girls Own adventure go to. In tow with my sister Janet I would don wellies and a thick school coat and we would brave the Welsh winters to groom and ride and care for my sister’s benign old mare Rona. 

I loved those times, not only for the companionship in a somewhat lonely childhood but for those little farming adventures that could be had. Of climbing the hay bales in search of was was probably rotten hens eggs, exploring the old sheds and barns or playing with the Labrador puppy, tied up next to the back door. 

If the snow was too harsh the old lady of the farm used to beckon us in, so we could drink a cup of sweet camp coffee with evaporated milk in order to get warm, after which we would take Rona into her green little stable ( now a house) where I could smell the mix of snow and straw and manure and pony breath and  where my own breath couldn’t quite prevent the chillblains on my hands sodden by iced woollen gloves.

Garden

Between May and June, the garden fills with gentle colour. The aquilegia, because of their tiny flowers , almost hint at the pinks, and purples and indeed blacks rather block fill the greens of the roses, ferns and Ivy.

The ceanothus blue shines from the back of the garden and the sculptural alliums have popped up overnight, a couple of weeks earlier than usual.

The garden truly looks cottage like, which is satisfying 

I’m soon off to see Meirion Jones , the final judge in this years flower Show to see if he’s free in August. The cookery and vegetable judges I've already booked and I’m awaiting confirmation from my choir after asking Jamie ( sans his 1940s RAF Moustache) if they would sing in the afternoon.

Fingers crossed

Tonight Helen Papworth from the village is giving a talk on Henry Morton Stanley , in Llanasa village hall, which I’m off to. Mrs Trellis left a snickers bar on the kitchen wall yesterday, it was wrapped in a paper napkin with ducks on it.

 

Let the Sunshine, Aquarius - Hair

The lisping Spanish Choir !

2 weeks and I see them in the flesh 

International Nurses Day

 

To celebrate International Nurses day my hospice ward is holding a nurse baking competition tomorrow. Not to be outdone the night staff brought in our entires and decorated them before day staff arrived.

My chocolate Swiss roll was classically understated given the somewhat amateur competition  

Without access to ovens and with little time, we just wanted to join in, as one of the sisters had gone beyond things and had fashioned a lovely cake and prizes for the day. Her hard work in providing a little light in what has been a difficult time moved our little team on nights, seeing that most of the nurses hadn’t gotten round to joining in , hence the amateur cake decorating and high spirits.

Storm

 Roger woke me up around 4.30pm, he pawed at the duvet. The skies were black and the mood of the weather had suddenly changed. We went downstairs and I cooked a jacket potato with beans and we sat in the kitchen , ( me in my underpants) as the storm rolled in from the South.

It was, what I describe, as one of those Hollywood storms , full of constant rolls of thunder and occasional lightening. Roger sat behind the kitchen door, with his head peeping around the opening, and allowed himself a tiny bark at each clash of thunder. 

The storm was a good one with the thunder rolling against the basin of hills that surround Trelawnyd.

It was loud and dramatic, as storms should be , and I moved my chair into the doorway to watch.

The electricity went off, then flickered back on, then off again.

Mary quietly walked up and sat on my knee, and I remembered a recent meeting with the grieving son of a patient who just needed some physical contact in his pain. 

He allowed himself a handshake which I prolonged a couple of seconds longer than normal

The storm was over by five fifteen with Roger bravely walking the flooded patio on tip toe afterwards.

Mary remained knee sitting as after a break, the rain started to fall again.

Northern Lights

I’m on night shifts over the weekend. But it’s glorious today, so I've made brunch to sit outside in the sun.

A salmon, mango,motzerella, avocado and basil baguette with coffee from my Italian Mocca.

Bloody lovely. 

I had forgotten the northern lights last night but was reminded by a friend who texted me a “ go outside now” message and I laid down in the front garden with the Welsh to watch the light show .

More pink than I expected

 I had a dream that my grandmother arrived at the cottage.I spied her through the window and she was standing beneath the honeysuckle in a cream coat with cream buttons and a cream hat, but for some reason I didn’t let her in. She fished inside her handbag then left

Most Haunted

 My friend Ruth needed some frivolity so I bought us some tickets to a stage show of the tv “ reality” show Most Haunted .

It was dreadful and we walked out at half time. The show is a sort-of-serious ghost hunt with a cheerful and not untalented ex Blue Peter presenter Yvette Fielding  at the helm, unfortunately, Fielding’s husband and co presenter took the whole evening down a few notches to the level of a group of workmen swearing in the corner of Wetherspoons and although I like a good swear with the best of them, it was all too basic and cheap theatre for my liking .

Not My Doing

 Villager Leader Ian has requested that

The 2024 Flower and Produce Show 

reintroduces the 

International Novelty Vegetable /fruit Class

All you have to do is photograph your

Novelty veg/fruit and send the photo to me along side your address to

jgsheffield@hotmail.com

All entries need to be in by August 20th

There will be prizes for first and second place

Les Choristes - Vois sur ton Chemin (Scene)

One of the most beautiful of all French films …the lad with the glasses always reminds me of my nephew leo, who is visiting in July 

What To Wear?

 I met my supervisor this morning. 

I liked her.

I banged on for an hour about me, until she finally said she felt as though she could work with me

“You have a warmth about you” she observed, a positive I gratefully accepted without question and we laughed when I showed off my diary, which I think makes me look like the mini counsellor I am.

From there I bought some new “. Counsellor” clothes for my start next week. A plain brown knitted top and green cargo pants. Not scruffy enough to look new age but not too smart to make me feel uncomfortable .

I bought cheap petunias for the pots outside on the way home and chatted to villagers as they passed as I filled the patio plantpots with cheap colour

End of Term

My group today ( in part)

 Last day in University today. 

It was nice that all of us are through with no drop outs. 

We start again September 10th and all have summer placements as trainee counsellors.

Tomorrow I meet my supervisor in the morning, then village leader Ian in the afternoon to sort out this year’s Flower Show. 

I think I’m off to the cinema at teatime too

I would like this photo of villager Jenny with her prize winning jam from last years show to be on the front of this year’s schedule 

What do you think?

Montana Archers

 Four 12 hour shifts back to back was a bit much 

Tonight I shared a tuna filled jacket potato with Mary sat at the kitchen table and fell asleep holding my fork.

When I flickered my eyes open the potato had gone 

So had Mary 

I’m typing this in the garden with a gin and tonic 

It’s not a sunny dusk

In fact today it’s a chilly one

But the Montana arch looks mighty fine

Speaking of Archers, it’s all go in Ambridge

George crashed drunk Alice’s car into Mick’s car sending, Mick, Joy and Fallon into the river Am

Denise and Alistair ( who are on a dirty evening out)  comes to the rescue but it’s close thing

George puts a comatose Alice into the driving seat 

Bloody hell, I need another gin

Sun On My Face

 

I was slightly annoyed around five. 

I had missed the sunny day ….asleep.

It couldn’t have been helped.

I chatted to Mandy and John from next door and sat out on the patio with my face to the sun, a coffee mug in hand.

It was glorious.

To close your eyes and only to see pink and orange on the back of your eyelids.

And warmth on your face

It was Blissful. 

The pink in my eyes reflected the pinks flowering in one of the untidy planters and the warm sun brightened my mood as the coffee did it’s job

I was reminded of an evening a decade or so ago when the ghost hens took centre stage on the field


“ .It was approaching dusk on a summer's evening and the rest of the field was in constant motion.
The other hens were mooching homewards to roost, the geese were bickering over a patch of grass like they do and the hysterical runner ducks were being , well, just hysterical.
Only the Ghost hens remained still. Sitting in the evening sun until their white plumage tinged pink..........
with their fat bottoms planted into the grass like old ladies arses on comfy armchairs.

Their faces were held very high as they enjoyed the last bit of sunshine of the day.”

What Day Is it?

 I’m working until Monday morning, overtime money which will come in handy.

And. I’ve just got up with a mug of coffee 

I will leave for work early as I need to buy a birthday gift for the support worker on duty tonight and I will pop in a card thanking her for returning Roger yesterday.

I will leave you with this video

A simple geeky night out for many 

But it kind of moved me greatly

Roger’s Escape

 

I don’t speak to my neighbours to the rear of my cottage.

It started over me complaining of noise not long after they moved in and I’ve made no attempt at reconciling 

Yesterday I found myself sitting in Bluebell charging my phone. Only my portable charger seemed to be working  and I needed the phone to call my prospective supervisor before I left for work

So there I sat waiting for the phone to charge, where I lost myself in day dreaming and thought. I realised it was The Prof’s birthday and emailed him a happy birthday note on impulse. 

, all the while I was sat there Roger watched me from inside the gate, wanting to get near me. Somehow in the next few minutes he managed to scramble over the wall into next doors garden and managed to run around and through a few gardens and tried to enter my neighbours house from the rear, sending their gaggle of dogs in an absolute frenzy of yapping.

Oblivious to this I continued to sit in Bluebell watching my phone. That was until the lady of the house appeared in a dressing gown holding a truly repentant Roger in her arms. Is he Yours? She called cheerfully.

Roger was terribly frightened, not only by his brief break out into the unknown but by the fact a total stranger had picked him up. He trembled noticeably and buried his head into my armpit . 

A real baby

I took him from my neighbour and thanked her for returning him. It was a little embarrassing but perhaps it’s time to cease hostilities, I thought, grateful he hadn’t ran across the fields towards the sheep.

We sat in Bluebell together as I phoned my supervisor . 

Roger meekly curled up on my knee

His shaking stopped.

Drama

Years ago I went out with a drama Queen 

He was big on gestures and huge of emotion. 

He also had a temper, as have I 

So we fitted badly. And the relationship was full of highs and lows 

And addictive drama.

I’ve hated drama in any form since then.

 

I just don’t want to know it.

The nurse in me abhors drama, 

It’s pointless and helps no one practically, and often just gets in the way of things.

It’s as if the emotion camouflages the reality 

We always watch the noisy child don’t we? 

I turn into my elder sister at times of drama, with a pursed lip and strong quiet I’m not doing this now

statement, which sets a scene.

Sure it’s often more satisfying to join in with the drama as their teeth often fit your wounds but eventually it’s all pointless , and fruitless and as hollow and dead  as an old log in a wood.

Or as Kenneth Williams final words said what’s the bloody point?

No drama , just the Garden Arch Montana blooming this morning

Serendipity

 

The other week I told you all that I had a rebate from my electricity bill , money from which I put towards my next year’s counselling college bills. Rebates from my water bill and money hidden away in a jar brought the total saved up to 1000£ Allowing a further pension rebate to pay for my trip to see the lisping Spanish Choir ( my troll went apoplectic at my failure to add to my savings!!!)

Today I did overtime at work ( to pay for my own counselling sessions)  and in a down moment read an email from management telling the staff that we were to receive a one off payment in Lieu of a wage increase. 

This was an unexpected bonus for the staff and even though I’m part time I will receive approximately 500 + £ extra next month!!!

500£ will more than pay for the outstanding college fees of 1400£  I will owe and will also help with my supervision bills too

How lucky am I? 

I sang I have A Dream when I got home with Roger bouncing alongside me like a loon 

Please as punch as I was

I really do realise just how lucky I have been 

Carmen

 

I went to see the live performance of Carmen at The Royal Opera House last night. I went with my sisters who both thought they were going to see a ballet, so there was much muted laughter as we took our seats.

We were all disappointed, me for the fact the staging was in a moody, shadowy 1970s Spain and not all frocks, sweaty factory workers and matador buttocks and for them that there was no ballet dancing.

The music, led by sexy as fuck conductor Antoello Manacorda is adorable as always and in the lead the 27 year old Russian Aigul Akhmetshina really shines in a performance of power and confidence and charm.

By the time I got home and relaxed it was nearly eleven, and it amused me, as I sat and wrote this with a drink, that Roger had positioned himself next to the front door fire vent with his nose resting against the slats .

He was listening to see if he could hear the Blackbird moving in her nest as she had been doing all day .

He does amuse me 

The following video has Aigul performing Carmen when only 22 years old 

 Amazing

Quiet

 Another video of the lisping Spanish Choir…enjoy…..

a quieter day today, some reading , catching up with jobs ,

It’s sunny this morning so the cottage windows are wide open, Roger is watching the blackbird’s back and forth to its nest in the honeysuckle and has been for over an hour now

Carmen live from the Royal Opera House later

Therapy

 

Tonight I completed my seventh episode of counselling experience as a client. As trainee counsellors we all are required to experience therapy first hand and pay for it too, and I’ve found the experience awkward, challenging, emotional and enlightening, as my counsellor is based in the “eclectic” theory base of counselling  rather than pure client centred base of therapy that I’m being trained in.

My counsellor ventured something I need to think about too

He suggested I was coming out of a clinical depression .one which started a year after my husband left me and one which had been fed and watered by covid 

I’m still processing this 

But I sort of know he is right. 

I’m a month into a strict diet and only last week I joked with him that weight loss was my last goal back to  getting back to the real me. 

He didn’t challenge me then…..he didn’t have to, as we both read each other’s non verbals,

The elephant in the room.

What I thought was a new start generally, may have been an end to a depression , I never really realised I had