" You've Done This To Me, You miserable fucker!"

I few years ago, I mentioned on Going Gently that I am not a true fan of puppies. Puppies, I said, were all goo-goo eyes, sharp teeth and silliness.
I much prefer dogs a little older. Dogs who have their own personality.
At four and a half months Mary is still half stupid puppy, half quick witted bitch
It's week one and she is doing very well indeed
She's almost house trained ( two hourly toileting)
She sleeps, quietly in her crate all night ( with George sleeping next to her on his own cushion)
And she's bright enough not to overplay her hand with the other dogs and Albert.
Winnie has come around somewhat and after three days of sulking, with her face pressed firmly against the living room wall, she has reluctantly accepted the mad galloping, goggle eyed baby with all the resigned exasperation of Walter Matthau from " Grumpy Old Men"
Friday morning I caught Mary tugging manfully at the fat folds on Winnie's face. She was having a hey ho time.....After a few minutes  of chewing the puppy moved on to pastures new leaving a somewhat nonplussed Bulldog staring up at me with a clear  " you've done this to me, you miserable fucker" expression on her face
Like I said, it's all going swimmingly.

Nuff Said

Off To Work

It's 6.37am and I am sat in my still place having coffee.
I'm off to work in a moment and wont be home until after 8pm.
I had a couple of wines too many last night.
Only a couple, for I went to a ward night out . Something I rarely do nowadays.
It was a leaving bash for 6 nurses who have moved on to pastures new.
For the most part....Six talented nurses.
It was sad to see them go. But I understand why most of them have done. Sometimes we have an inflexible rota system and the off duty for full time staff can be punishingly difficult to cope with especially when you have a life outside work.
I talked to a few junior staff members too last night.

When I used to manage , all those years ago now, I like to think that I tried to make things a bit easier for all staff........
Hey ho

Eyebrows In Church

We went to my Aunt Margaret's funeral today.
It was well organised with Westlife's " You Raise me up" playing emotionally at the Crem.
The service was held at the local Parish Church which was pleasingly full of mourners.
The new vicar of Prestatyn looks a little like the vicar from Dad's Army , I tell you this just to add a little more colour to the proceedings.

The Prof and I had a pew to,ourselves, and on the way out I fell in line with a very small woman with a shock of white hair. A glimpse of two magnificently drawn on eyebrows made me stop short.
It was my Auntie Joyce
" I thought you were dead" I hissed at her
" Well I'm not" she whispered back somewhat obviously
I hadn't seen her since my mother's funeral over a decade ago

Now auntie Joyce and her hand drawn eyebrows was always a highlight at pre Christmas lunch drinks when I was a child. That is the only time we got to see her, and her eyebrows always made her look if not startled certainly mildly surprised.
Rather affectionately I always referred to her as Charlie Cairoli
Only people of a certain age will know who Charlie Cairoli was.

Auntie Joyce

A Still Place

Where is your still place?
The place where you sit and think.
The place you make lists  On pen and paper....or just in your mind.
The place where you drink coffee out of your " special" mug
The place where you write.
The place you can be still.

My place is at the kitchen table. In the mornings it is the brightest part of the cottage.
It feels a cheerful place even though we still haven't got the lino sorted.
The kitchen has three windows.
Opposite, on the outside of the fridge and in my direct line of sight is a snapshot of everyday life here.
A collection of photos and memorabilia which can only be understood by the Prof and I

My still place isn't the field, or the garden or on the top of Gop hill with it's magnificent views over the vale of Clwyd.
My still place is sat at the kitchen table................ looking at the fridge door.

Winnie Thaws

Mary has been bouncy all day.

She has been working on Winifred's Ice cold indifference

with the gusto of an Olympic champion. 

Just as things were winding down for the day, 

And in the glow of the log burner during The Archers

The two finally made friends on the living room carpet

Life's A Drag

Driving home this morning from work I noticed that the newly re opened village pub ( The Crown) is having a Halloween " do"
Apparently a drag queen with the rather dubious title of Leslie Lush will soon be taking centre stage; no doubt she will be bobbing for apples with the village farmers and trick and treating with Gaynor the mad organist......drag queens and Halloween?
Is it me but it's not a pairing that automatically go together.....I must also add that
I'm not a big fan of drag queens on their own if the truth be told!

I was once punched in the face by a ugly drag queen called Kitty Litter
It was in the Roxy night club on Bootham in York in the late 1980s and I was trying to climb onto a bar stool after a somewhat lively night out with a group of psychiatric nurses, when I slipped and fell into a rather large middle aged " woman" in a sheath white gown, spilling her drink.
She turned around suddenly , and showed a shop worn face pancaked in make up, badly applied lipstick and a noticeable five o'clock shadow.
She looked dreadfully familiar

" Hello Mum!" I chirped up sweetly.
I never saw the fist coming .

Lock Your Doors

The old Well in Well Street Trelawnyd

It was well st and not Welsh Street that the robbery took place

This story appeared in the local paper

Click here North Wales Daily Post

The " Brave Woman" I know fairly well. She's a mom of two and stories about her ordeal have circulated the village like wildfire and have ranged from a tale of how she chased the thief down Well Street to how she was beaten up at the kitchen sink.

Whatever happened , it must have been a terribly upsetting experience and it has reminded us all in this rural part of North Wales to lock our doors at all times.

I think I have been lucky, but I have been the victim of crime on perhaps three occasions in my life.

I've had a cheque book ( remember those?) stolen years ago and the thief tried to use it in a Jewelry Shop where by kismet he was served by my twin sister. An opportunistic thief walked into our sheffield home and walked away with the Prof's laptop and of all things a small Japanese bowl and here in Trelawnyd someone lifted the Prof's old moped during our biggest and most successful Open Allotment Days........But I have never caught someone in the act.

It makes me think just what I would do if I did.

Would I grapple with a stranger to protect our belongings?

In the US, shooting an intruder may seem more acceptable than it would here. 

I saw Gay Gordon this morning and he bellowed that any ginger haired sneakthief would get a swift boot up the arse if he caught him rummaging through Big Mary's knicker drawer.

The humour glossed over the fear that such an event has obviously caused him and many of the other locals.

How many of you have been the victim of crime? and what did you do about it? 

I would be interested to know.......