There will be no church service in Trelawnyd today. Gaynor, the hilarious Church organist told us somewhat breathlessly yesterday.. The vicar took a tumble in a local stately home the other day and is recuperating at home.. I shall miss the church bell ringing before service tine.
It looks as though its going to be a bright day here today, a day to catch up with jobs. The Prof will send some time holed up in his office, which gives me a chance to deliver eggs, drop off a glut of goose eggs to Auntie Glad and Ian & Jo in the village. I am buttering Ian up with the eggs in order to get him and his partner to enter the cookery classes in the flower show ( he's a mean baker by all accounts)
I also need to call around to my friends Bob & Olwen in their neat little house in the centre of the village. Some years ago, Bob taught me how to cull a group of unwanted cockerels. An experienced and responsible poultry farmer of many years, Bob insisted that the job was done with gentleness and respect. The birds were handled in an almost zen like way, relaxing them in an almost hypnotic stupor before " the dispatch". and after the deed was done, he taught me to prepare the carcasses from plucking to gutting with considerable patience.
I felt I had the rare opportunity to learn from a master
Unfortunately Bob has been poorly in hospital recently and Olwen took the brave decision to nurse him at home as his condition deteriorated. Palliative care nursing at home is a hard road to walk is it not?
It looks as though its going to be a bright day here today, a day to catch up with jobs. The Prof will send some time holed up in his office, which gives me a chance to deliver eggs, drop off a glut of goose eggs to Auntie Glad and Ian & Jo in the village. I am buttering Ian up with the eggs in order to get him and his partner to enter the cookery classes in the flower show ( he's a mean baker by all accounts)
I also need to call around to my friends Bob & Olwen in their neat little house in the centre of the village. Some years ago, Bob taught me how to cull a group of unwanted cockerels. An experienced and responsible poultry farmer of many years, Bob insisted that the job was done with gentleness and respect. The birds were handled in an almost zen like way, relaxing them in an almost hypnotic stupor before " the dispatch". and after the deed was done, he taught me to prepare the carcasses from plucking to gutting with considerable patience.
I felt I had the rare opportunity to learn from a master
Bob giving me my first plucking lesson!
It wasn't a buxom cockerel was it not?
I have a feeling he's still in the bottom of the freezer
Chris and I have always told each other that we want to die at home. I want to be surrounded by dogs under a patchwork quilt, but that's my Hollywood version of what I want I guess.......
The reality of home nursing is sleepless nights, a whole marching band of visiting, well intentioned professionals and a home that is transformed into cross between care home and hospital ward.
I saw all this when my mother cared for both of my grandmothers at home in the months before their deaths and I saw it all again when my brother died peacefully in his own home.
It's bloody hard work
Home nursing works, if support is ongoing, you are mentally and physically strong enough to cope with the day to day workload and you have pragmatic nursing cover.
So , I will call up to Bob and Olwen's today. I take the Sunday paper. I will offer to sit with Bob if Olwen wants to pop out and I will listen to the day's events with hopeful alacrity. That's all I can do
And Up and down the country thousands upon thousands of Olwens are home nursing their loved ones behind closed doors and curtained windows.
Hey ho






