Thank You

 Cro, took the opportunity in his morning blog post to thank people in his past for kindnesses they had done for him.

It made for an interesting read, and cathartic one all told. 

Over coffee I made a mental list

It was interesting as it meandered.

I wish I told my grandparents just how important they were as they moulded me into the best version of myself I could be, whilst at the same time thanking my parents for doing the bet they could with what skills they had.

Thank you to the unknown man who saved my life in a Spanish swimming pool in 1972

Thank you to the birdlike Miss Betts and the sexy Mr Smiler who shared their love of writing stories at Prestatyn High School

And Thank You Mr Brint my tutor in psychiatry who showed me that men could be soft as putty

Thank you to Ally who took me to my first opera at the Grand in Leeds

And thank you to Robert who made my first kiss with a man as sweet as it could be.

Thank you to too many nurses who have moulded my career and my practice 

And to Ceri who helped me see that death wasn’t so frightening a prospect when you are dying

Thank you to that British Rail employee who was kind to me after I foolishly went to my father in laws funeral 

And thank you to my sisters who are constants in a life lived.

I am grateful that I could go on

And on

And on

Tarts’ knickers

This week has been somewhat strange. 

Emotionally I’ve been up and down like a tart’s knickers.

I’m not stressing over the diabetes. 

It’s just been a very long week.  

Today I’ve driven a ninety mile round trip for a study day

Tomorrow I’m on a night shift again. 

Thank goodness my blood sugars have stabilised somewhat given my diet

To feel so fatigued on top of things , I would have been a basket case

And so I’m sat on the Promenade near home

I’m being mindful, helped by Max Richter.

The Welsh are noisily sharing some Swedish meatballs on the passenger seat 

And I’ve opened the window wide to let in the icy air.

At Last…..

 Busy day.

Clients for most of the day, dreaded paperwork then a foray into the communication abyss that is a GP s surgery where un joined up writing means that a clinic appointment in another town was cancelled without me being informed and another made without thought to work and life.

I didn’t get angry, I couldn’t 

And I will tell you all for why

I had a last session with a client today.

Without me knowing they left a gift and card on Bluebell 

The gift was a homemade pottery figure which loosely resembled me. 

The card was hand painted with a selection of what looked like spring flowers

In it, written carefully were the words

“ At last I’ve been heard”

How Others See You

 I rang up about joining a local cinema discussion group the other day. 

The man organising it was enthusiastic and chatty up to me mentioning that I was of retirement age and then he went all evasive . 

You sounded younger he said backtracking on his initial excitement and there was an awkward silence before he told me that he’d be in touch, after he had received all applications.

I’m usually pretty assertive in these cases but soon after I felt deflated and judged and suddenly surplus to requirements .

How Yorkshire Pudding sees me

Money

 Am I destined to return to Italy?

I hope so . 

Ive cancelled my trip to Rome in five weeks only because I’m up in the air with my diabetes 

I’ve no problem with that, I’ve got refunds on my accommodation and have swapped flights to July when Ruth and I are going to Madrid to see my lisping choir in person ( again) 

Their summer concert is Eurovision based and will be camp fun

The four months in between will allow for my health to stabilise.

I’m skint too, that’s just an observation not a gripe. 

Every bill has increased this year, including my mortgage, so I’ve booked a few extra shifts and have tightened my belt.

I will still try to go to the theatre and cinema when able ,as these treats keep me sane and I’m happy that I saved up for my sister’s 2025 birthday and Christmas gift last year, so our trip to the Royal Opera house to see Romeo and Juliet won’t come as a real shock.

Next year my friend Nige and I have tentatively planned to visit Naples

Only 141 miles to Rome

Fantasy

 I have a whole selection of day dream fantasies, doesn’t everyone?

Places you go and visit when you’re warm in bed and your conscious minds flits like pond skaters do on the surface of the village pond.

My favourite recently is that I’m on a night train to somewhere. The sleeper is decked out ala North by Northwest or if not that American then say the train in From Russia With Love. 

Faded but smart

If you get the gist.

Of course I won’t be sharing ( that idea repulses me) but the thought of getting lulled to sleep by the noise of the train, intrigues me.

The man with a hole in his jumper doesn’t figure on any train, but the idea of meeting remains cinematic and dramatic in nature. It’s a scene from a gentle comedy film, wholly British with mr Jumper being scruffy but sweet and our meeting romantic and chaste

I have the money no object fantasy but it’s transported to a tv makeover where the cottage is a tardis with every to do task completed to the highest level of style and competence. 

The programme ends with me being presented with a baby bulldog from grateful friends in the village.

lol

Mememememe!, 

Sometimes I’m walking in New York like an aged Sarah Jessica Parker, off to meet friends for lunch at some bistro or other. And fantasies like these are fleeting and are almost like snapshots rather like little movies. 

I’m on stage singing ……singing like Ruby Rossi from Coda or Hyde from belting out This is the Moment ( you would never know I was gay would you?)

Sometimes I day dream of loved ones gone too

Bittersweet day dreams, like I said , that flit in and out of consciousness like pond skaters on the village pond

Better

 I’m feeling a bit better, even before I am to start on insulin,

I’m pleased by this.

I suspect my diabetic diet , is responsible for this as the peaks and troughs of my blood sugar have been ironed out a little.

And I have been strict .

Yesterday I spent the whole day cleaning out the kitchen cupboards without an afternoon nap .

Last night I read most of a book without falling asleep

Warmed by the fire , I was still awake at nine , as the twins swaggered down the stairs to take their place near the hearth .

Only then did I go to bed.

Today I’ve made bacon soup ( from the diabetic menu) and had a hot shower with Roger ( which he loves)

I listened to The Archers Omnibus on IPlayer, spoke to a friend and listened to music as the Welsh sat on my chest and the twins hovered nearby.

I listened with interest to the eloquent speech from Justin Trudeau waging economic war on Trump

Animal Helper Pat stopped for a chat and moments later Mrs Trellis dropped off dog treats wrapped in serviettes 

Sundays are a little long as they always say to me couple time 

Hey ho

My Untidy Desk

 

Flight Risk

 

I know I bang on about how good art house cinema is, but I do enjoy being entertained, no matter what the subject matter is and how it is presented. 

50 years ago I fell in love with disaster movies after watching Airport 75

You may remember the cross eyed Karen Black as Nancy the hapless stewardess manfully trying to pilot the stricken 747 over the mountains whilst the passengers ( including two nuns and a girl needing a kidney) screamed their heads off. 

Half a century later Mel Gibson has US Marshall Madlyn ( Michelle Dockery, Lady Mary from Downton) caught up in the same predicament, but this time she’s responsible for the safety of her prisoner Winston ( a wisecracking nerdy Topher Grace) an informant who is turning states evidence against a money launderer. Their small plane pilot (Mark Wahlberg) who has been chartered to fly them out of the Alaskan Wilderness turns out to be a psychopath hitman ( like you do) so the stage is set for a tense, exciting, old fashioned drama with the three leads bouncing well off each other, as Wahlberg becomes more unhinged and Dockery develops into a worthy adversary.  

Flight Risk is rubbish, but remains great entertainment and is all rather fun.

Animals In Hospital

 

Mary with Hattie, she adores women and their softness 

When I was a student nurse working in the community I once sat on a patient’s chihuahua, which was asleep on her couch. Its owner put in a written complaint about my behaviour. ( or more importantly my behind) 

In another home I once spied a mummified cat , curled up near a long used coal fire and could only go go eyed my colleague as she tried to persuade that patient to enter psychiatric hospital 

At another house, in the Sheffield districts I couldn’t help verify a patient’s death as I heard a family pet  ( a nasal pug with a habit of hiding under her mistresses’ bed ) heavy breathing 🐕

I once saw a farm dog lie still and whimpering next to the paralysed body of her shephard owner and I pretended not to notice an elderly dying patient’s Yorkshire terrier as it was “ smuggled” into intensive Care by a tearful grandaughter, under her anorak.

I’ve seen my own dear Meg , a feisty and somewhat bad tempered Welsh terrier , sit still and respectful at a moribund patient’s bedside. Something Mary copied a few years later. 

And Finlay , my first Welsh terrier once gently removed a spinal injury patient tracheostomy inner tube and held it in his mouth like a Frenchman smoking a cigarette as the staff looked on open mouthed .

I was present when a florid schizophrenic patient strangled the ward budgie 

And I’ve watched tearfully as a psych patient on his deathbed called to his dead wife only to be told he was in fact asking to see his long deceased old horse. 

Animals in hospital ….and outside hospital they love who they love 

Eponine

 In the late 1980s I was lucky enough to see the original cast of Les Miserables at The Barbican Frances Ruffelle won my heart as the urchin Eponine and stole the show over Patti LuPone who played Fantine and so forty years later,I was surprised to see a “new” Eponine that blew me away.

Nathania Ong plays the role  a visceral, raw and painful way

She lives Eponine

And she breaks your heart

Porth Eirias

 I need a boost today so lunch with a friend at Bryn Williams is a tonic. I took the welsh down the Promenade first in a first responce to anti diabetic expercise, then spoke to Nu in the car before sitting down at a nicely laid table  overlooking the sea.

The food was so so but Bryn Williams has lovely views and good coffee

We went to an art instillation at Porth Eirias, portaits of local.people from Colwyn Bay. It was simple, moving and very  effective

Then it was another walk for the Welsh , followed by supervision in Prestatyn .

It was almost dark when we got home, 

Hey ho

Memory lane January 2012

An old post revisited after 14 years

 “ I had a coffee then went out to deliver some duck eggs which I had promised to drop off and I was glad that I did for as I turned into Bron Haul I caught a glimpse of Mrs Spriggs.

Now Mrs Spriggs (not her real name) is one of those very VERY old ladies that always sound as though she is crying when she talks.She has that slightly odd, wavering voice that carries literally for miles. and when I sometimes try to pass her when she is waiting for the morning bus into town, the dogs will often stop then sit and stare at her when she cries her very odd cries of welcome.
Today, Mrs Spriggs was perched on top of a brand new shiny invalid scooter, complete with impressive wicker basket on the front. She was driving it at full tilt along the centre of the road,and even at a distance of say 50 yards, I could tell that her knuckles were white as the proverbial sheet.
Islwyn Thomas, himself in his late eighties, stood nearby and he gave me a small wave and a smile...
"watch this" , he  quipped "this should be fun!"
Mrs Spriggs passed us, letting out a long moaning scream as she did so
I noticed that the scream had a definite Doppler effect to it
"I'm scccccaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrred!!!!!!!!!!!" she cried " this is all new to me!"
she turned the scooter around and in way of explanation as she made a second run she cried out again
"The scooter is on loan..I'm trying it out!!!.....but I can't get the hang of the kerbs!"
She mounted the pavement briefly near Stan and Kit's neat little bungalow and let out a long "oooooooooooohhhhhhh!" as she did so.
And as I stopped to watch... realising instantly that this was the stuff of all passable blogs!
Mrs Spriggs glided past yet again emitting another little scream like girls do on rollercoasters

As she "hand braked it by the junction of High Street, She informed Islwyn and myself rather breathlessly that the buggy needed to be returned by Friday so she had to practise when the weather was dry.
"How do I look on it?" she wailed as she made her third and final run

"precarious !" I said under my breath”

Bloods

 New GP , jaunty practice nurse

Apologies for not being chased up

I’m not surprised but I’m diabetic 

Lots more tests, clinics, bloods, meetings booked

I’m back in the system 

GP thinks I’ve been depressed but have pushed through it ! 

Pulling bra straps come to mind.

Non of this is rocket science 

Get on with it John.

Bowls

 I usually work Sundays so with tonight free I went to the indoor bowls night at the village Hall

I really enjoyed it.

About sixteen villagers were there ( mostly men ) so I knew all but around four people . The ones I didn’t know were very friendly , including a farmer my own age who kept boosting my confidence after I told him I was always chosen second to last at games in school , and that was only because last place Alan Jones had a built up shoe!!!!

I was shit, but like I said I enjoyed the banter and the game itself …..

I shall go again 

Growing Up

 

Another bout of nasty weather approaches, so I thought it the right time to open the cat flap.

Weaver left the cottage first followed by Bun and as I predicted both didn’t venture too far in the cold and wet. Roger was beside himself and kept looking at the cat flap then to me as if to say “what’s happening Dad.?”

I tried to keep busy like parents do when their toddlers go to play school for the first time 

Hey ho

Hunkering Down

 I slept until 2 pm and did some shopping.

As usual , I parked in the mother and child spot and almost had a row with a woman who took umbrage with my explanation that the Welsh ARE my children. I say almost, I’m not in the mood for battling , not today. I just smiled sweetly 

She didn’t smile back.

Sometimes , I get a little weary of being the one who hires and fires all of the time. 

I have an appointment at the doctor’s surgery on Monday to discuss my recent blood tests and it was nice that a friend at work, who knows, gave me a kiss on the cheek as way as a support last night.

Like I said , I’m a little tired doing everything on my own.

But there is no alternative and we plod on, don’t we ? 

I’ve cooked butter beans and chillies, and made a thick fish soup with cod steaks and park Choi , walked the dogs and lit the fire . 

Tomorrow I’m going bowling in the village hall, which sounds rather third age but all rather fun, but tonight I’m hunkering down on the couch

Éowyn

 It’s rough.

I woke to the roar of the wind and Weaver angrily swiping claws at my toes.

The wind has a real edge to it, and even the Welsh who love a leisurely walk and sniff, kept their heads down and pulled for home. 

The ponies, as she had predicted stood with their backs to the wind in the shelter of the hawthorn hedges and the private windmill at Marion Mawr ,far across the valley, whirled crazily.

I checked the village Facebook page, 

The Arla cattle crossing near Sarn had been closed by fallen trees, but no one has suffered power cuts yet.

I think the school is closed too

I’m working a single night shift tonight which will be fun getting to, I will add to the post later

Gimmie

 I moved away from home properly when I was 23

I moved to York in the dead of winter

York which is the backdrop of the new police drama Patience

Patience is a police researcher who has autism , so that twist is the whole nuance of the series.

It’s a little predictable but it’s watchable and well done but more importantly it visited an old haunt I haven’t returned to in thirty six years.

In last night’s episode I grabbed a glimpse of the Hole In The Wall pub which still lies just inside Bootham Bar ( or gate in the Walls) 

I had been the new psychiatric nurse for only a few weeks when I joined the staff on a Christmas Night out at The Hole In The Wall, and as I walked in, all fearful and shy I was met by a roar of warmth by my new colleagues . Geordi Pete, Cath Sylvester, Tracey Birkin , Mandy, Anne O’Neil, Linda M, Brid, Gordon, and others

An hour or two later , arm in arm with whoever was near I found myself belting out the chorus of ABBA’s Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie ( a man after midnight) feeling I’d come  home 

The story comes full circle soon as I’ve planned to meet with one of that group, namely  Tracey Birkin in York in the spring. 

We reconnected on Facebook recently amid much emotion 

Nosfeatu

 

A couple of years I went to the Storyhouse to see a showing of the 1922 silent version of Nosferatu complete with a live musical score. One famous scene had Max Schreck climbing slowly out of a ship’s hold and this stands up to this day as one of cinema’s famous horror moment. The 2024 Roger Egger’s version pays homage to the original by presenting some amazing visual set pieces and truly impressive cinematic moments but by the end of 160 minutes I was praying for someone to dispatch a rather disgusting looking monster quick stix!!! 

It just wasn’t very scary 

I had a Phad Thai as a treat afterwards 

I will leave you with another fine blast of the lisping choir, I was there watching from the back row