Thank You Mark

 Well sometimes you are moved by things out of the blue. For those that don’t know I tend to show some blogs on my Facebook page as well as my blogger pager.

Since last Thursday I haven’t felt like posting anything much on either forum, but certainly Facebook has been devoid of conversation , so much so that a follower from the village called mark who I haven’t met, posted his concern for my absence on the village website 

Hi just had this sent to the crown and haven’t a contact for John.

This is probably a big overstep but is/has someone checked on blogger John Gray. It's not like him to not post. If all is under control then feel free to tell me to bugger off. Sorry but couldn't find another public page in the area. From a concerned reader.

Alex Faye

Get well soon John 

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Ed Lloyd-Ellis

This makes me really appreciate the type of community that we live in, someone notices that someone else's behavior or habit has changed, so they get concerned and check on them. This is what a community is about. Very thoughtful of Mark, and I hope that you are back to your usual blogging self soon John..

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John Gray

I’m very touched by the show of concern. 

I’ve not been well for over 10 days , and my sugars are too high, . I’m at work tonight, and am so so ……subsequently I’ve not blogged recently

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Samantha Trelawnyd Evans

I've given John a nudge x

🎤🎶 BARA BADA BASTU · Grupo Talía

A spirited rendition of the Swedish heavy rock Euro hit . They give it gusto , my choir ! 

I’ve been out of circulation for almost a week now

I’m not right still,

A post viral lethargy ? 

Who knows.

This morning I resorted to Lego, and I loved it. Something concrete to think about, coordinating brain and hands ( something I never really been very good act) 

This morning I made a toucan. Ok I couldn’t fix one wing in place 

And ok I fucked up  his open beak 

But I was pleased with his disneyish charm 

The one thing you realise when you are poorly, is that, like in death, life plods around,you thank you very much. Without a kiss-me-arse or nothing. 

Village elder Islwyn cleared my garden rubbish without fanfare, the Facebook complaints about the deforestation of the Gop have continued and the Trelawnyd Community Association met at the Velvet Voiced Linda’s house on Monday to look at resurrecting the youth Club.

The go Green group did more work on the village Wales in Bloom application. 

And the male voiced choir can he heard practicing again every Tuesday night. 

As the village is surrounded in cold mist and January’s paralysing icy nights 

Everything plods along. 

With or without you

Following Through

 I’ve got an explosive cough as well as a post viral malaise

And I’ve felt very unwell since Friday.

The verb “ explosive” has been chosen with care here, 

For I was caught unawares like a lone zebra on the savannah when I ventured to Sainsbury’s for supplies 

The coughing fit started in the medicine aisle.

Just before I took a swig of cough suppressant. 

The wet farts a mini second later

And my body suddenly became my mother, 

An evil entity whose only existence was to embarrass me publicly.

Red faced I galloped for home

The German shook his head when I videoed him the news

“ yu ‘ave passed the point of no return” was all he could say

If I die when would they find my body?

Well, you all know me, always something organised, always someone to see, 

Always  something to do . 

Since Friday I’ve done absolutely nothing

I feel full of virus .

Tired, weary a little unwell.

I’ve not even felt like cinema though I did watch Pans Labyrinth last night wrapped in a throw and two blankets. 

It’s cold and it’s feels like winters did back in the day

Paralysing 

I’ve just walked the dogs to the lane end. It was dusk and I’m sure I saw a large dark animal running in the field borders 

The Welsh noticed nothing 

I’ve only spoken to the German once 

No one else has called 

If I die when would they find the body? 

It’s crossed my mind 

Auditors

 The rise of the on line auditor is one of the sadder aspects of the net. Some Middle aged men with a history of little life purpose, isolation and anger problems have carved themselves out a niche by exploiting the law by filming public companies with camera and drones. Of course, they know the law doesn’t stop such activity as long as it takes place in a public area , but all they want is the filmed tension between company staff and perpetrators such as Mark Evans, who is quick to insult and to goad as long as it gives him a video which will be adored and hated in equal measure.

Blogland has its fair share of Mark Evan’s. Angry people whose life has been passed by….. People who feel that they should have more importance than they deserve, who audit other’s writings desperate in the need to find some perceived discrepancy . I suspect the nature of blogs mean that there are more women then men that feature here.

Tired, frustrated, small minded …I could go on, but I won’t, suffice to say that I loved one unflappable security guard’s response to a particularly rude and nasty tirade by Mr Evans 

The security guard turned to a colleague and laughed “ He’s a prime example why prostitutes shouldn’t marry” he quipped

Karma

 

My boss let me go home early tonight because of storm Goretti which was kind of her.

Instead of near 9 pm, I got home around 6, so I set up a small electric heater on my desk in order to warm the living room as I made and lit the fire.

Bad move

Just as I lit the fire lighters in the grate , I spied Weaver on the desk , she was sniffing loudly and I just had time to bellow 

“ No!!!!” Before there was a loud bang, the sudden smell of smoke mixed with cat piss 

And all the lights went out! 

I’ll fucking strangle that cat

Chilly

Jesus , it’s cold

 

Audit

 Non of my clients turned up for their appointments , a galling and fairly frequent aspect of  counselling I’m afraid . I left the centre early and ended up having a row with a drone flyer who was photographing a caravan park next to a garage shop.  He was arguing with the park staff but like most of the sad on line auditors do,  he knew the legal aspects of flying a drone., which allowed him to do so from public land, so just just enjoying bating the staff for some cheap footage. 

“I have a legal right  to film”he cried out like a teenager and I couldn’t  resist calling  “ but not a moral one!”.as he glared at me, pointing his camera at my fat arse as I walked away to Bluebell

“ I bet your mother is very proud of your achievements “  I fired back, almost as cutting as old fashioned  “cheap Shoes”

You and I

 I’m back working as a counsellor tomorrow, after my Christmas Break. Today I sort of prepared myself by meeting Chic Eleanor for lunch. She’s very psychologically minded, so a couple of hours with her often feels like I’ve completed a good bout of supervision . ( for those that don’t know Chic Eleanor is also a trained counsellor) 

We talked about where we felt we were both going this new year and ever the optimist she rested a gentle hand on mine and said 

“We are going to have such adventures, you and I !”

Waltz

Ive posted this story before, but after watching Cinderella on digi box I was reminded of this story all over again….like all good stories, I never really tire of telling it. 

I was just twenty two years old when I first grew up as a nurse and as a man…….I remember the situation as if it was yesterday, and the memory seared into my psychi forty two years ago is fresh and as moving and as important as it was on that muddy weekday morning when I was slopping tea into thirty empty cups in the kitchen of an old asylum Ward .

I was tired and weary.
One of four staff, I had helped 30 men to get washed, dressed and fed on Durham ward. A ward that catered for the senile, the head injured and the institutionalised.
It was late morning and the men had been sat in a routine square around the day room as the staff puffed fags on the verandah.
I didn't smoke so it was my job to get their tea, before another rounding of toileting began
The tea was made in one large metal teapot. Tea, milk and sugar all added to the mix and it took two hands to lift the pot as I poured the brew out into saucerless cups.

As I worked I watched the female residents of Durham's sister ward Daresbury , all sat in similar poses along the square of their dayroom chairs.
In one corner sat a visitor .
I had often seen him before , and recognised his smart suit, and his polished shoes.
He always sat with a very still patient, a patient that I assumed to be his wife and they shared tea from a flask that he brought with him every morning.
I remember his wife having grey hair that was curled chignon style at the nape of her neck and that morning I watched in a half interested way, as he started to pull her out of her chair to her feet.
His wife stood shakily, like senile people often do when they don't understand what is wanted of them and after a bit of manoeuvring the man held her in a waltz hold.
They staggered back and forth for some moments, unbalanced and unpredictable and then I saw something quite magical happen as her muscle memory started to kicked in 
With a turn of her head on an arched neck she grasped his hand tightly and they started to waltz .
Very slowly at first , but with a gathering momentum, they two of them danced around infront of two dozen unseeing eyes , with only me there to witness the event, and they did two circuits of the room before silently returning to their seats like a pair of ghosts.
I stood still , the teapot still in my hands , and wept.
In one tiny moment I had seen a true love expressed and recognised the importance of seeing hospital patients as real people with a past and a future

And all at the age of twenty two

I grew up

Weaver Hates Snow

Bun ventured out this morning, her button small footprints hardly visible in the carpet of white. Weaver took one long look at the front garden, and with a clear fuck this look on her face, she parked herself next to the fire.

I’ve got my Lego out