Flow

 The best film of 2025 so far is a strange rather epic post apocalyptic animation from Latvia. 

It’s a true delight. 

The narrative is seen through the eyes of a small grey cat who lives a quiet life in what we presume to be his or her former owner’s cabin

There are other animals living in this lush wilderness but no humans, and the animals act as animals do in this green world that is suddenly engulfed by a flood of biblical proportions .

Director Gints Zilbalodis keeps explanations minimal . The animals don’t speak, they have no names and for the most part they act as their species would dictate but when a damaged sailboat arrives five animals find themselves thrown together in an uneasy alliance . The pragmatic cat, a benign and calm Capybara, a dim Labrador , a loyal but aloof Secretary bird and a prissy lemur obsessed with trinkets meet by chance, and this group navigate deserted ancient mountain topped civilisations and their own innate animal drives to work together for a common good.

The obvious metaphor isn’t driven home too heavily , but you do find yourself rooting for this odd little band of brothers.in one of the most visually stunning films I’ve seen in a long time.

It’s rather delightful and a timely story given some of the Trump loving and nasty blog posts I’ve read recently 

 

Mindful

I’ve been home all day.

I’ve been mindful and still 

Listening to the radio with the fire lit uncharacteristically early. 

Donna Ockenden an interesting listen on Desert Island Discs)

And then reading on my bed, 

Not a novel but an interesting study of the treatment of PTSD.

I fell asleep for an hour and woke with the Welsh curled up either side of me and the twins at my feet with paws tucked under them making them look like egg sitting hens. 

I’ve always been moved by the animals’ need to sit with me

Tonight I’ve made noodle soup with ramen stock, chicken and pak choi, and the cottage feels toasty with the limestone walls warmed by the roaring log burner

The Welsh are sleeping. 

And the twins are in the bathroom play fighting in the shower cubical

 

People That Yell ( and plastic tulips)

 I cannot abide loud people

Specifically people who yell.

I have a neighbour who roars at his yappy dogs. 

He bellows and I’m sure has no inkling that he does so even though in a partially passive aggressive way, I often call back with a pointed call of  “Stop The Yelling” or my more favourite. always exasperated “ For Fuck’s Sake ! Shut the fuck up” 

I’ve never pretended to be Rachel Zegler.

Today I went to Sainsbury’s for breakfast ( avocado on sourdough with eggs) when in the next booth some great unwashed harridan decided to tell her teenage daughter off loudly, rudely, swearily and publicly. 

Did I say something?

You bet your arse I did and I would do it again in an instant

She spoiled my breakfast 

I turned around, looked the woman right in the face and told her “Will you STOP yelling” firmly and with as much distaste as I could muster at such an early hour.

I was wearing my third best Walking Dead T shirt, which I’m sure detracted slightly from my credibility, but the woman surprisingly shut up and didn’t follow through with any back chat which surprised me.

Before you say anything I know I am lucky.

Yelling accompanied by anger is a childhood fear.

Many children who suffer it regularly by angry parents often are timid and shy

And I was a shy child.

I’m catching up with home stuff today, and with the doors and windows open I hope the yappy dogs refrain and their loud owner is struck dumb

Otherwise I’m fucking playing Edith Piaf full blast.

After breakfast , and ignoring the nasty looks from the next table, I went to the village garden centre to buy some delicate violas and surprisingly some plastic tulips. 

The tulips will sit on the kitchen table and obviously won’t need water, water which Roger upsets regularly when he climbs up on the kitchen table in an attempt to see out of the kitchen window.

Covid 5 Years on The COVID Nun ( Revisited)

 BBC Radio 4 has been broadcasting a series of programmes exploring the ramifications of Lockdown.

I’ve been thinking about them, on my way home after a lovely day with Nigel in Chester, where we shared coffee and Phad Thai over tables together and sat and talked on a bench in the cathedral grounds.

We both had very different experiences of lockdown. 

He enjoyed his

I hated mine

Unlike millions of people, I worked full time on the front line. I wore PPE everyday and felt and looked like a pig in a condom But this story , out of everything is one that I remember about lockdown, and is one I choose to cherish 

My patient was admitted from home, incredibly poorly. Their family requested a Priest to be called , little did they know that unlike nurses and Doctors, Priests where not making hospice calls during covid

I stayed with the patient and hissed a request at a pragmatic smart support worker   “ Get Me A Nun”

During lockdown , it had been almost impossible to get any chaplaincy support, but knowing that there was a nearby Convent I thought a nun was better than nothing , and even though nuns can’t officially give the last rights they can provide their version of the prayer over the dying to give comfort.

An elderly nun duly arrived in what seemed only like a minute or so .she was well into her eighties and looked valiant as she glided in breathless but twinkle eyed. 

I had seldom seen anything so brave.

The nurses immediately surrounded her, 

Helping her into PPE and mask and gloves and  apron, with gentleness and respect

And clutching a bible and some holy water the nun hurried to the patient’s bedside seconds before they passed away

I wish the official inquest and the BBC had heard that story , which stands up with a thousand others that should be heard 

A brave old nun, not frightened or bowed by covid 

Doing the right thing at the right time

Glad

 It’s March 20th

14 days ago it was March 6th

I had forgotten the significance of that date until today

Back in 2015 it was my wedding day.

I’m glad I forgot, 

It says a lot of where my head is finally at 

I’m glad

Solar Panels

Mary in her new Jumper

Roger

 A few more pounds lost this week and I’m now back to what I weighed when I started at the hospice. 

I’ve decided that having a chronic condition will work to my advantage so I contacted the  rural Advice Wales department who deals with the energy efficiency of cottage properties like mine in Flintshire.

Apparently I am eligible for an air source heat pump and heating upgrade, a full home insulation job and a solar panel system for free! 

Bloody hell.

Bloody Hellllllllll

How good is that? 

The helpful man-on-the-phone laughed when I kept saying what’s the catch? 

Apparently there isn’t one ! 

The company that completes the work will be contacting me soon. 

I know several villagers who have had the work done, so I know it’s to the highest standard

Serendipity strikes again.

So today has been a chore day. The Welsh are having a groom and haircut so I’ve been out and bought Mary a jumper, given that the weather remains chilly. I will post a photo later when I have a mind to 

I’ve given Bluebell a jet wash , shopped and drank coffee in the nature reserve at Rhuddlan where I watched a group of swans push a floating log about a pond.

I’m now pottering around before collecting the dogs

aprendiendo a hablar español

 Today I’m in college and I’m staying late to study in the library, so todays post is an early indulgence 

Allesandra Fortuna is a cook who tucks her tea towel down her bra straps before getting stuck in making pasta from scratch. don’t you adore her? My plan is to visit Italy with my friend Nige in 2026

Our trip to Madrid seems real now as I’ve booked our tickets to see the lisping choir and Metropolitan Orchestra of Madrid. I’m also looking at booking a Spanish cooking afternoon “experience” too which sounds great fun ( sparked by the Italian video) , so it won’t surprise you that I’ve also decided to learn Spanish when I complete my counselling diploma . I will start that in September 

This impressed me too

And finally this , shivers up the spine 

The best mini series Anne with an A

Bluebell

 

Bluebell is in the garage having a pre MOT service. 

Like most old ladies, there are several worn out bits that need attention and she’s in for the full day which will be expensive. 

She’s been a good friend to me over the past seven years

A very good friend. 

Another year or two together will be great, but I suspect, as she’s around the clock

I will have to start saving for a replacement.

She has been good to me and good for me

And I shall miss her

When her time comes

Red Letter DAY

 

A first in the cottage.

Bun on my knee, Mary next to me

Snowdonia

 

I cooked lots of creamy mash and mini roasts even though I was good and didnt have any myself. 

I ve missed cooking dinner but did cheat with the bought cake

Snowdonia looks beautiful in the sunshine but i couldnt live up here, I prefer the rolling hills of Eastern North Wales

Stand Up

 Affable Despot Jason came with me to the Storyhouse last night. 

I hadn’t seen him for an age, but quite typically we left off when we last started and had a giggle.

He’s a natural storyteller who laughs at his own tales, a trait which is both endearing and infectious, and at times during the first stand up comic ( who was truly atrocious) we found ourselves giggling like schoolboys.

The main act was a young doctor, whose observational humour about his work and his relationship with his mother was both amusing, poignant and clever.

A nice way to spend a Friday evening.

Tomorrow I’m driving up to Rhiwlas in Snowdonia to see my friend Ruth who is recovering from a knee replacement. 

I’ve bought and will be cooking her a roast dinner and as it’s her birthday, I’ve invested in a cake, candles and party hats, 

Clarification

My favourite picture of Finlay leading Meg, and little George on the beach in 2006

 Yesterday’s “ Finlay” post wasn’t just about the grief for a dog as most of you thought it was.

It was the written acceptance and understanding of a shared love for something that was in all intense purposes,  a child. 

A child with red/brown curly hair and a wicked sense of fun.

The craving to have your own offspring isn’t just the domain of women.

I have had to own my long term desire for children and unexpected as it was, the counselling room has been the safe place in which I’ve explored and accepted the fact. 

It’s a gift to be able to explore your motivations and your drives

And to acknowledge what makes you tick as a human in this strange collections of experiences we call life.

I would have been a good dad

I was a good dad to Finlay, albeit an over protective one

Realising that, and acknowledging it

Is important

Escandalo

 Out for Breakfast...will leave you with the lisping bass section on cracking form

Blurry but good 

Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars

In my personal counselling this week my counsellor asked me when my heart was broken last. 

She qualified it as being a question not associated about my ex husband 

And I answered her quickly and without a pause

It was the death of Finlay

My first dog.

He was five when he died, 

A brain tumour robbing me of a dog with a heart of a lion

And a nature that endeared me to Welsh terriers for all of my life

Chasing Cars was playing on the radio every time I took him to the vets and the animal hospital 

And when I remembered him in my counselling room , I cried like a baby at his loss

The son my husband and I shared that was “only” a dog

He was so much more my counsellor observed kindly and with insight…

And tearfully I agreed with her

His gravestone lies in the front garden right next to the agapanthus and Jews mallow

Finlay Christmas 2004

Chatter

 I’m starting early for me.its just past eight and the Welsh are walked and fed and in the car.

Weaver and Bun are playing in the living room and haven’t left the cottage even though the cat flap is open.

They are home birds.

I have three clients to see today and have changed one client’s appointment to an early slot to suit her childcare. 

I will have a break between each one today so walking the dogs and note making will be easier.

I have nothing else planned for today.

Tomorrow I’m picking up my friend Polly, at her garage ( car MOT) and we are going for breakfast, then I’m going for an eye test and then theatre in the evening to see a talk by a practicing doctor titled The Secret Life Of A Sleepless Anaesthetist. 

Affable Despot Jason is going with me so it will be lovely to catch up and I think the talk will be a hoot. In my experience anaesthetic doctors are the most human 

Chores

 

My garden daffs and the shocking pink flamingo baking measures I bought in London

The American’s have a good word for jobs.

There are chores to be done.

I like the word chores.

Today has been the day for chores.

I bought a camellia for Nu’s garden which will be sent to her lovely new home in Surrey. Sorted out my diabetes Eye test and booked the Welsh in for their Haircuts.

I picked up a coffee and porridge from McDonalds and splashed out on a cheesy bacon wrap for Roger and Mary. ( they both eat their goodies with eyes blissfully closed) 

I then went to see village leaders Ian and Helen about the Flower Show only to find them out, so I did shopping, collected a prescription for Trendy Carol’s hubby, paid Anne Williams for the throws she bought me from Spain, before cleaning out a kitchen cupboard and going to Supervision in Prestatyn.

Islwyn was walking down the lane when I returned home and stopped to talk

“You’ve lost weight” he observed, adding “I’m glad, this village would be sad to lose you”

Im getting more of that sort of comment  recently and will accept the sentiment behind it now with some alacrity. 

“Thank You” I told him, but he was already sharing an anecdote about a family member who had his legs taken off when he was 26 stone, the moment was gone.

I picked daffs from the garden as the chill evening approached 

They make the cottage cheerful 

They always do.

Nu

 I met Nu at the National Portrait Gallery and we went to Dishoom for a late lunch. My Neighbour Toroto was an oddity. An occassionally whimsical tale of  innocence and loss where sprites and benign monsters support two emotional needy sisters in rural Japan.

We left at the interval but spent the time laughing and talking all the way back to Thames Ditton .

Its been an important and emotional reunion for both of us

London Bound

Im looking forward to London.

I now have the energy for it .

Im meeting Nu around three, so will have an hour or two free to mooch around the Portrait Gallery or the river.

Its nice to be back

In all senses of the word

Sunday Off

I seldom have Sundays off.

Ive forgotten the routine.

After their walk, the Welsh had a treat.

We drove to McDonalds and they had a cheesy flatbread each and I had a bowl of porridge . 

It’s all very rock n roll.

We walked around to see the work done on the village pond , and was encouraged to see green pond weed growing healthily in its centre

Spring is almost here. 

I saw village leader Helen and arranged for me to meet with her hubby Ian on Wednesday in order to start planning the village Flower Show. It’s the 50th one this year and we want it to be bigger and better so I will be channelling my inner Linda Snell in order to make it so. 

The village is warmed and cheerful in today’s sunshine . I saw Terry who gave me a lot of advice on dieting, so much so the Welsh dropped to the pavement and then Anne who kindly bought me a beach throw from Spain, after I had Facebook complimented her on one she had bartered for.

Mrs Trellis was out too ( sans bobble hat), 

She was marching up towards The Gop, but there was no one else to see or greet as we turned for home

 

A Dusk Meeting

Dusk yesterday.

I knew the Lady by the field gate.

Not well, but we know each other’s name and houses and are friends on Facebook 

She had been crying and was trying hard to hide it

I hadn’t noticed because Roger was pulling at his lead and only realised after she had brought it to my attention and was hurrying a little embarrassed. 

She said something about a family member before moving on and I presumed her tears were tears of grief

Sometimes I think I see too much grief

Too much at work, certainly.

In my counselling I see loss in its many forms.

Loss of roles, loss of employment, of home, of loved ones and of relationships.

Losses of youth, of hope, of abilities to cope in life.

In my personal counselling with my old Irish sage,

I have explored my own grief reactions 

And have realised all too well that it never really goes away

You just live with it more peaceably 

Grief, is love which has no where to go