Grief ' n things.....

Today, I had a conversation with someone in the village.
On the surface it was a chat about the aches and pains and hospital appointments that go hand in hand with old age
But essentially it was an honest declaration of grief.
Grief for a life which is now very different to what it once was.
I heard about a clinic visit.
A blood test.
About " one thing after another"
The strangulation of an active life by physical infirmity and deterioration of the senses
There was just a little of justifiable self pity in the conversation.
But the overwhelming sense I got, was a sense of sadness.

Grief often rears it's head before you lose something dear to you.  We have all experienced it in one way or another. A elderly grandmother  with cognitive problems, a brother with motor neurone disease, a dead relationship months before a divorce, a job redundancy.........whatever the reason, grief can strike at anytime and it's not at all about a death......

it's just more common in the old..
Auntie Glad is the lucky one ..... She always says " My health is my wealth"
She's oh so right...

Hey ho...I'll leave you on a lighter note
Old people as they should be

Bake Off

Queen Berry, King Hollywood and the newbees

Next week the hole left by no more The Walking dead

Will be filled.

It won't be filled by anything Zombie

Oh no

But everything, nice and middle class , and sweet and wholesome

Yes next week

The Great British Bake Off 

Returns to our tv screens

I wonder if they'll do scotch eggs?

Vital Art

Sculpture is a little thin on the ground in North Wales.
It's the way of the world.
I do miss visiting the Yorkshire Sculpture Park which is situated on the outskirts of Sheffield- a huge expanse of parkland dotted with an ever changing collection of art sculptures was a favourite Sunday trip out for us, even on the most inhospitable of days.

There is one holocaust memorial sculpture which I would very much like to visit and experience.
On the banks of the Danube in the city of Budapest Sculptors Gyula Pauer and Can Togay  have laid down a harrowing spectical of dozens upon dozens of old fashioned shoes.

The sculpture is a memorial to the hundreds of Jewish civilians murdered by the ruling arrow cross party during the last years of the Second World War. The victims were marched to the banks of the Danube river, forced to strip naked, and then were shot by firing squad....their bodies floating away in the water.
The shoes are a stark, simple and poignant testimony to the atrocity

Here are a few impressive public sculptures
Can anyone tell me where they are?
  

How many can you recognise?

Bookend

Seven hours after I went down to the beach with the dogs and a packet of meatballs, I took the bike to,do a " round robin" 8 mike ride along the promenade from Rhyl to Prestatyn and back.
The halfway point is a nondescript hotel called The Beaches, which overlooks the sea, and as I turned the bike around, I suddenly heard a commotion from the verandah bar area.
Five people were waving at me, all red faced and very  much the worse for wear.
A chorus of "  Dobrey- something" ( I couldn't hear the second word) rang out
and one guy, waved his full pint of beer energetically as he added a cheerful and slurring  "yaayyyyy.......meatballs!" In way of greeting
The other drinkers looked somewhat perplexed.
I cycled away after a brief wave and  a smile......I still have not mastered taking my hands from the handlebars

A Polish family on the Beach

Behind the cottage we have , what can very loosely be called,  a patio.
In actual fact, it is a square of concrete which is filled with sad looking , shade loving plants and the odd dog poo and mouse carcass, so today I thought I would go and buy some cheap and colourful plants and clean the whole place up.
I went to town, bought the plants , then took the dogs to the beach for a walk.
It was overcast and a little blowy when we got there, with small family knots camping out on the sand as the tide came in. So I sat on the promenade steps for a while, feeding the dogs their treat of Aldi Meatballs and people watched.
People Watching on a quite, dull Welsh beach proved to be an interesting study of just how small the world is.
There were four families on the one stretch of beach . A group of Polish adults without children. A Somali family having a Punic lunch. A Muslim family trying unsuccessfully to fly a selection of small kites and three older ladies from what sounded like the Midlands.
I was intrigued at the eclectic mix of it all as on one stretch of local beach.......... I realised that I was the only Welshman in sight!
One of the Muslim women, who was wearing an ankle length coat , headscarf and very trendy large oval sunglasses, swooped her kite close to us, and it's tail lashed me harmlessly around the head. She stopped still, and looked worried before I waved at her to let her know that it was ok .

Two of the Polish men came over to chat as I dolled out the meatballs , I offered one a German meatball after he pointed with a cackle at George chomping his way through his. He pulled a face and said it was not as good as Polish meatballs and he gestured over to his wife who in turn offered me a small square of spiced apple cake., which was lovely.

He told me that they lived in Irlam in Manchester .

It's a small world , is it not?

Hello

Winnie gets the morning head rub greeting....and loves it

In the comments of yesterday's blog, Deb asked how Albert is doing...
Well the long and the short of it, is that he's doing mighty fine.
Summer is a good time for Albert.
His damaged leg is not so painful
He enjoys a diet of at least 2 young rabbits a week
and he is out galavanting all night every night.
He arrived back to the cottage just as I drove up after night shift.
He head butted me as I passed him on the cottage wall, and he slipped through the cat flap before I had opened the door in order to greet the rest of his pack.
He greets each dog in turn every time they catch up
Only Wininie properly understands the significance of a feline head rub, to the terriers it is just the silly actions of a wide eyed cat. 

A Late Entry

 Tomorrow Mr Butler will be wandering around the village with committee member Irene, in a bid to judge various garden categories for the Trelawnyd Flower Show.
We never have many entries, so this year I have felt obliged to enter our front garden...which looks ok -ish if you ignore the dog pee burn marks in the lawn.
Mr Butler is a national judge where Flower Shows are concerned, and travels the length and breath of the country during the summer " show" season judging for the most part vegetable and fruit entries .
Our show is one of the smallest he attends , but he says that it is one of his favourites as generally one of our younger female committee members a companies him on his rounds

 I am on nights tonight, so hopefully I will be hiding away in bed for an hour when Mr Butler arrives
I couldn't quite cope with his gently shaking head when he spies the slug holes in my hostas
And the hastily bought garden centre blooms which I have just bunged in at random this morning

Bliss

I was invited to the post Prestatyn Flower Show "do" this evening
It is a time their committee gets together , drink  too much and has a takeaway
It sounds like great fun.........especially as most of the characters I have met ARE great fun
However.....
I couldn't go... Animals to look after... Which was a shame
So as they all got stuck into a nice Pinot
I watched the shit Star Wars- Attack of the clones on tv
And had my feet licked by a fat bulldog
The feet licking ............was............bliss btw
Reflexology on the cheap

Look closely .its Winnie in full  lick