Nearly twelve years ago Mary decided to sit in the fruit bowl
Today Roger decided to sit on the coffee table
In almost exactly the same position
A Chameleon On The Fridge
It’s 5 pm and the ice cream van has arrived in the village. I’ve not noticed it in years gone by but this one plays the zimmer theme from The Third Man which feels strange, especially as there is still a distinct chill in the air.
I’ve just finished two night shifts, and didn’t sleep much today, so it’s pottering time , with a slow pace , soup cooking, clothes washing, fire lighting and radio 4.
I’m mildly annoyed because my second best counselling jumper now has tomato stains down the front.
The man that delivered the fridge never bothered about such things
Oh I’ve bought a new fridge . My Ikea fridge freezer has died and isn’t repairable and shocked at the cost of a replacement, complete with fitting has meant I have bought a small table top fridge to more suit my needs.
My handsome chameleon is sat on it . The old fridge is now an ideal storage cupboard
Tonight , I’m revisiting the last two episodes of The Other Bennett Sister and apart from the lovely will-they-won’t - they relationship of Tom and Mary , I adored how the daughter/ surrogate Mother relationship worked out between Mary and her Aunt Gardner ( the sympathetic and generous Indira Varma ) quite lovely
Touch
When I am at work, I touch people constantly.
I wash and I turn people in bed hourly and will sometimes take my latex glove off to comfort someone, certainly to stroke a brow or tidy a hair which is out of place .
I hear my old tutor from my psychiatric nursing days at these times….
“Being stroked by a gloved hand can be painful and unnatural “ Leslie Brint would say
There are social rules when it comes to touch too,
Some people abhor it.
Others crave it
You have to read people effectively and quickly
Safe “ zones” for touch are innately understood by most
But not always.
Watch out for cues
Huggers often give them
People in grief often regress to childhood states
When touch can heal most things
I don’t hug when I’m counselling.
It’s my strict rule.
But I do always shake hands with my clients.
It’s formal but warm
I like handshakes.
I’m off to work, shortly
With Roger on my knee as we sit at the kitchen table
He’s like me, when it comes to hugs
But he can ask for them where I seldom do
I’m glad he can
Eyebrows
I’m 64 in June
And I’ve just realised that I have eyebrows like
Virgil Tracy
And could not have fitted through
Thunderbird 2’s
Ceiling slide
A Cry On The Way To Counselling
I start with the Madrid Metropolitan Orchestra with some of my lisping choir doing an amazing version of Gloria Gloria ……followed by this amazing nurse’s poem from the Vietnam war
But today’s highlight was a radio four production Life Changing where psychiatrist Sian Williams interviewed teenager Rozhan , an illegal immigrant from Iran who with her mother and younger sister braved death many times to flee persecution in the Middle East where her Muslim mother changed religion to Christianity .
The account of how she took charge of a sick baby at fourteen in a sinking dinghy off Dover , and how the 26 people on board all held hands as they thought death was approaching made me stop Bluebell in order to shed a tear before my counselling day .
I defy anyone, including the most rabid of racists not to be moved by this tale of heroism
Gritted Teeth
Weaver is trying her best to integrate
But like Mary Bennett in social situations,
She just can’t get it!
Rigid with awkwardness she pushed herself to her obvious limit last night and over perhaps 40 minutes crept her way to the centre of the living room from her usual ninth step on the staircase.
It was a painful watch, and I held my breath for much of the ordeal, but she finally did it !
Speaking of painful watches, I sat through The Downfall of Huw Edwards last night
Awful
John Wynne and Graham The Sheep
Chapel house or ty wynne ( Wynne House) where the remains of John Wynne are buried
His wish to develop Newmarket into a large market town ultimately came to nothing, but Wynne was responsible for the village's growth and its population did top over 600 residents.
John Wynne died n 1714 and his remains was buried against the wall of the Chapel which still exists in Chapel street.
Now all this gives a little background to the "ghostly" goings on at Ty Wynne, which is the house situated right next door to the chapel and John Wynne's burial place. The present owner always thought that their house was haunted by a strong male character. Indeed the lady of the house always made a point of saying "goodnight" to the ghost before she went to bed. They always presumed that the "ghost" was that of John Wynne
In the early 1970s Ty Wynne featured in a somewhat creepy tale. Local small holder Graham “ the sheep”Jones was just leaving the memorial hall one wintry and rainy night.. He had been playing snooker and as he got on his bicycle he saw a figure of a man standing in the gateway of Ty Wynne.
The man was wearing an old fashioned long coat and hat, and seemed to acknowledge Graham before he cycled for home.
Literally a minute later Graham approached his home along London road and was astonished and frightened to see the same man standing alone outside his own home!
Graham wisely stopped and returned for the morale support from his friends back in the hall and by the time he returned mob handed the "man" had vanished
Could the figure be that of Trelawnyd's founder John Wynne?
Who knows?
This tale of Trelawnyd has a bittersweet taste as Graham died over the weekend
Easter Sunday
The village has been battered by storm Dave.
Dramatically so.
The journey to Llandudno along the A55 to night shift felt somewhat fraught.
And the wind roared over west shore, like a freight train.
It’s still roaring now and it’s just past midnight.
When I left for work I found a bag tied to the front door knob.
The bag was decorated with Easter chicks and eggs and in it was a small Easter egg and these
A Cd and book of Under Milk Wood.
Another day, another kindness.
Its now Easter Sunday, traditionally an awfully dire memory of childhood , which centred upon chocolate ( I’m not a fan) Overlong Biblical films starting Jeffrey Hunter and bored parents.
And a light note to end with
Sometimes I stream on a site for mature gay men. It’s fun because I can hold court and discuss things such as film, the walking dead, life and the universe. The site is moderated and policed by friends who stop the riff raff and the occasional rude or suggestive comment and it’s often interesting to have a couple of hundred people from all over the world sharing their thoughts.
This weekend I was discussing scary experiences, when a bloke from Portugal shared with a photograph that was somewhat bizarre.
I won’t go into details but it caught me so unaware that I burst into uncontrollable hysterical laughter. A real belly laugh that stopped most people short and which created a wave of laughing amid the group.
Matt a good friend from Denmark took a screen shot of me with the caption you are killing me today John
I laughed till I cried…..brilliant therapy for a boring Easter weekend
Felt Sorry For
When you are single and sixty something it seems inevitable that some people will feel sorry for you.
I think it more often than not happens to women on their own in hotel restaurants but I’ve had my fair share of “ Are you alright? Are you looking after yourself properly?” Moments over the years!
My elder sister Ann has me over for supper once a week now, and I’m grateful for this gesture of good food and company.
Having a meal made for you, when you are used to cook your own meals is a treat, I can tell you. Why do you think I love going out for brunch and lunch with friends, the treat is palpable !
I work with a lovely support worker called Diane, she is single and my age, and every time we work together she will surprise me with “spare chicken salad” in the staff fridge or a comment “ I’ve brought some good coffee in”
She spoils me and I’m grateful for it.
She doesn’t feel sorry for me….well perhaps she does just a little, but I don’t want to think about that
A villager texted me yesterday saying that they were looking out for me at the funeral.
Another kindness certainly .
When I’m out alone, I still take with me my armour
My phone, an iPad, a book or all three,
They protect me from being felt sorry for
I hate the thought of it
Stopped By The King
I went to a friend’s funeral today. She lived in the village.
But as I was driving at the top of St Asaph towards the crematorium, I got gridlocked.
The King and Queen were in town.
They are celebrating Maundy Thursday at the Cathedral.
Luckily I was able to watch the funeral service online then got out and walked up towards the Cathedral just in time to see the King walk across the road to say hello to the crowd.
He’s like his mother not very big.
I came home eventually free of the police’s road closures and noticed some magnificent bunches of grape hyacinth on Ann Hindles’ wall
Bloody lovely
And Life goes on…..the Trelawnyd Go Green group prepared the ground around the village hall for compost beds and poppy flowers this afternoon. I bought a few packets of giant poppies this afternoon as a minor support
The Other Bennett Sister
Spoiler Alert
Oh lord I loved this on binge watch , the story of bookish, maybe slightly autistic Mary Bennett ( Ella Bruccoleri) and her journey away from the control of an abusive mother ( Ruth Jones on nasty form) to self realisation
Hils ( Lucy Briers)
So Mary’s very different view of Regency life comes to the fore here. She sees the good in Mr Collins and she massages the change for good in Miss Bingley but her love for Tom Hayward is very deep and their final connection is incredibly moving and real
I loved her relationship with Mrs Gardener ( Indira Varma) her aunt and true supporter and Hils her mother’s housekeeper who delighted in eating Mary’s wedding cake in the final sequence)
A clever reinvention of a new story ….we all love Mary xx
We all are Mary
Project Hail Mary
Project Hail Mary is a children’s film for adults. To save the planet lonely science teacher Rylan Grace ( Ryan Gosling) joins the Earth’s nations scientists to find a cure for an infection attacking the sun. In a disastrous space journey he teams up with a spider like alien looking for a similar cure and the pair become friends in their joint quest.
We have seen this all before
Think Robinson Crusoe, ET, and Lost In Space, but the humour led by Gosling is infectious and charming , the sentimentality just enough for tears and the icy scientific Governmental leader led by the enigmatic Sandra Hüller ( below) is a perfect foil for Gosling’s chaotic hero.
I liked it.
A bit too long
And with more holes in the plot than a block of Swiss cheese,
This is a film that celebrates friendship and good in all men
Oh and in aliens
Eight Years
It’s exactly eight years since my ex husband told me he wanted to sleep with younger men.
It was in the kitchen of the cottage and his mother, who was visiting was crying quietly in the spare bedroom.
In order to tell me the news, he had to be angry and that anger had found its mark with her as well as with me.
I could feel my world crumbling in on itself, but I still tried to people please.
I made tea, and placated her by telling her it was me that was the problem and not anything she had done.
Immediately I realised that my marriage and relationship was over even though it limped along like a three legged pony for a few more weeks,
All this was out of the blue.
Many people don’t believe that, and to be honest there were clues along the way, but it was unfair in its suddenness, and devastating in its effects.
That’s why I had problems processing it all.
Now eight years on, I can’t really recall his voice.
For the past three years I have forgotten our wedding anniversary date
I don’t think about something about him every day as I used to
I don’t cry when I remember the hurt
My grief has approached the glitter stage…
I like the analogy of grief as glitter
To begin with it’s everywhere.
It’s irritatingly lurking in every nook and cranny, like when a child upends a tube of glitter onto a piece of paper decorated with glue
The glitter grief is all consuming and covers everything
But in time, the grief glitter is hoovered away, ok traces of it are maintained on the letters as a constant reminder of our loss, but as the glitter picture sits on the outside of the fridge, wear and tear and life rubs the design bare and clear and dull.
Years later the glitter grief may be just a few sparkles, left in an envelope, or in a corner of a carpeted room, and it serves to gently remind us of things past.
If you are lucky looking at it doesn’t hurt anymore
It’s just glitter, after all
British Summer Time
Don’t you just love British Summer Time
The only perk that Night Staff have this weekend…..
What fun
This was my happy face after a 10.5 hours shift rather than an 11.5 hour one
Bryn Williams
Darling what an absolutely wonderful idea
Chic Eleanor was excited, because we organised brunch at Bryn Williams’s new restaurant at Theatre Clwyd and as usual her enthusiasm was infectious .
Habits
The Archers as I mop the floor ( fifteen minutes of guilty pleasure)
Antiques Road Trip early evening
McDonald’s coffee ( large) in the morning
A video Call with The German soon after
A sneaky snooze early afternoon
A long hot shower
Seat D 12 at the Storyhouse
Pad Thai noodles with chicken always eaten with chopsticks
Amelie on dvd when I’m sad
Blog writing and reading
Breathing down a pony’s nostril ( when in the field)
I’m sorry I haven’t a clue ( certain Mondays 6.30 pm)
Elasticated waists
Crocs
Dog cuddles
Diet Coke
The occasional scotch egg ( not Sainsbury’s they are shite)
Brushing my teeth to camptown races every night and morning
Another rabbit this morning ( not dead) Roger was walking around with it gently
Better weather today
Magnolia blooming in animal Helper Pat ‘s garden
Mary still at Trendy Carol’s
.
Wednesday
Weaver brought in her first adolescent rabbit today.
It was lying in the living room with her sat proudly beside it when I got up
It was heavier and bigger than she is.
It’s like the ghost of Albert has arrived home.
Weaver had blood around her mouth
Mary is still with Trendy Carol so Roger went to counselling with me and slept in the car between walks
It’s stormy and wild here in wales
And suddenly cold too
People are panic buying petrol and the pumps in Rhuddlan were empty
Chicken and black bean sauce tonight
Flying Visit To London
Twins waiting for the train ! Me with my Roger Moore eyebrow
You can tell I’m almost blind in one eye👀
I tend to buy my twin sister a Christmas gift which centres around a trip to London ... We go to a show , together, have a nice meal ( she does some shopping) and we stay in a nice West End hotel.
Bish bash Bosh.
Covent Garden ideal hotel
Lovely ballet
The restaurant Sarastro perched at the top of Drury Lane was an odd affair, decked out in old opera boxes, the place is well known for its tarts boudoir decor and its porn murals in the toilets ! Janet was so impressed with the filth on the walls she forgot to flush !
Filthy buggers
They remind me there’s a world bigger than Trelawnyd and busier than Wales
A Vagina On The Chopping Board
I worked last night and took a little time to explain to support staff just why I think it’s important for me not to do personal cares with female patients without a chaperone .
Suddenly I remembered this post from seven years ago and seeing it was a quiet news day today, I thought I would repeat it.
The post caused much complaint when I first aired it
I don’t quite understand why
“ The log lady had dropped a pile of seasoned wood a couple of days ago and this morning called around for her money as I was eating breakfast. She waited in the kitchen as I scrabbled around for the notes but was kept amused by Winnie as per.It was only after she had gone when I realised that I had left my vagina out overnight on the chopping board.I think I may need to explain myself here.........
Nowadays male nurses are trained to catheterize women , but in my day this was not just so, and so when I went to work in the private sector with effectively no trained nurse back up. I told myself that I needed to expand my role somewhat.
The first step towards this was to get my hands on an anatomically precise vagina!
This I have done and off I went yesterday, searching the mysteries of the female " inner world" thanks to a rubber vag propped up on a baking potato!
The log lady never said a word”
Always A Drama
A Hopeful Roger
At six Roger has realised that sex is EVERYTHING , just as Bluebell lost her exhaust , Mary sans menopause burst into an elderly season. Now fair dos ……Mary , like a robust Diana Dors, is still on for a shag so drastic measures have had to be employed and she has been relocated to Trendy Carol’s complete with a whole new set of jumpers and coats.
Roger was so vociferous in his ardour I’ve had to send flowers to neighbours Mandy and John in way of apology. Weaver understanding a blip in dog hormones has suddenly appeared downstairs ready to take over as alpha
Me and Bun are clinging together like children
It’s all fucking drama
Sigh
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