2017 Review

It's round robin time.
Thank goodness ( I think) I have a sense of humour, so it shouldn't be that painful.
It's only a snatched post too as we are between relative visiting.
I'm " doing " The in laws so to speak!

Compared to most we've had a peaceful year.
No deaths, no trauma, no real angst.
Animal numbers have remained static and apart from Winnie piling on the weight post hysterectomy and William's eyesight failing so much he constantly walks into the ironing board the dogs have been lucky.
And so have we......
We've had them for another year.
The new kitchen arrived and I retired from a career which has served me well for three and a half decades.
I was ready to go. Clinical Nursing is a young person's game and now I still fart when I bend over. I have noticeably thinning grey hair and a bald spot the size of a fried egg!
I look like my dad.
Which is a blessing......my mother looked like the wreck of the Hesperus when she was older

2018 will offer new adventures and no antisocial shifts to muddy home waters, which is Grand.

2018 is the year we travel a little more. Bosoms will be resurrected and old friends will be connected with. 2017 has taught me the fragility of health ( a lesson I never really learnt in nursing) and loved ones are only loved ones when you've got them.
Make the most of people is the phrase du jour

So dearhearts, be brave, head up, tits out
2018 will be fine, and bright and new
Let's enjoy it together xxxxx

Where Are We?

Forgive me for not replying to my previous post's comments
I have read each reply and as usual they eclipsed my original words and thoughts.
I've just woke up after a sneaky nap on a blow up mattress
We spent the day in a rather picturesque British city and I was tired
Where are we?
Here is a little clue

Thoughtful

Tom Stephenson's blog will affect a few readers today.
Suicide and the debate surrounding this, the most emotive, most irrational and to some most selfish of self destructive acts will bang on to the end of time.
Soon I shall me mentoring new Samaritans during the final parts of their extensive training.
In between the time wasters, the sex callers, the lonely, the unhappy and the distressed they will be faced with the suicidal caller and how the newbies cope with those first calls can have a profound effect on their careers within an already shrinking service.
I remember one particular caller when I started as a volunteer. A young professional man sat in his car on an unamed beach somewhere in Britain who was taking an overdose.
I remember throwing everything I had into that call.
Every " trick" I had in my arsenal was brought into play to bring some positive resolution out of a terribly sad situation but after an hour of talking the caller finally ended our conversation and I was left unsure of the outcome of a person I had suddenly come to care about.
At my debrief my mentor just let me talk about the call
She simply reflected that I had done my best.
and that's all any of us can do in situations like these

Winter Morning

Not sure I have anything to say today.
The cottage is uncharacteristically quiet
The sun is weak and watery and all I can hear is the tick of the clock and the squabbling of the hedge sparrows by the front door

In All Seriousness

I had a laptop for Christmas and my computer skills are noticeably lacking given the fact I am now so used to iPad workings.
Taking a break from acer this and Firefox that, I ambled through social media news with it's memes, fake news and photos of kittens.
One " party game" caught my eye
It was titled " NAMING YOUR VAGINA!" 
Apparently your vagina ( and presumably penis) name is that of a recently watched movie you have enjoyed
God help us.....with all that is happening in this world , I am reading a list of vagina names ..named after movies?!
However The First Lady that answered made me guffaw
" With my luck with the opposite sex......it would have to be Disney's FROZEN " she typed

Your Best Gift

My light box message this morning!

As a kid, gifts mean more than anything else in the world.
As a adult other things seem to matter more.
Blogger Rachel's reunion with Peter on Christmas Day was sweeter than the ending of Shiela Burnfords's The Incredible Journey and her joyful post, I know has made many of our Christmases just that little bit nicer, especially given the painful and at times arduous journey she made after he originally left.
The Weaver, in her indomitable let's get on with things style has faced her own demons this year and still manages to face the world with a ukulele and a smile and Thomas is still soldiering  on despite  Brexit and slump in European candlestick sales.
The older I get, the more importance I hold in health. In making the effort and in enjoying things.
When Some people take joy out of a tv the size of a barn door or a car that is able to talk to you and park itself...I quite pride myself in getting giddy as a kipper over my new vinyl floor in the kitchen .
Horses for courses.
Christmas Day was sweet because the family got together without agenda. It was a day when my twin sister merrily got drunk during charades. When my older sister manfully battled with dishing out the starters as the entire male population made balloon animals and when the Prof delighted in wearing his gold lame underpants in public! 
That's what is important.
Enjoying the small stuff.....

So as I play with my new light box message board! I have to ask what's your best gift this year?
What are you thankful for? What's made you smile, proud or just happy?
It has to be positive......
I want things to be positive today
I'd be interested to know! 

Gold Lamé Underpants

One of the gifts my sister bought The Prof and I were a pair of gold ( for him) and silver ( for me) novelty underpants which went down a bit of a storm.
I was reminded of a long distant Christmas from childhood when my father ran into a crowded room in his vest and y fronts and fell into the Christmas tree with an inebriated in law.
That was in the 1970s and public underwear wearing was deemed hilarious way back then.
We seem much more sophisticated now

The Prof is cooking today in his Christmas pyjamas !
He is presently cooking a ham and is preparing a mountain of bubble and squeak.
I am sat in the living room armchair, still a bit washed out but grateful that my now chest infection is becoming more mobile. I sound like a pan of scouse which is bubbling away on the stove top.
Yes I'm painting a rather attractive picture of myself rant I ? .....lovely!

I better get up....as the dogs need feeding,
I've been reminded as I've just seen Winnie eat a very small hand knitted Christmas pudding tree decoration.
Hey ho

We were fed and watered wonderfully at my sister's home yesterday so today's its 1970s Boxing day fare with a retro trifle !

Darlings.......

We went to the Church service last night and despite man flu the vicar gave one of his best Christmas sermons.
He talking about the comfort of the familiar , just like the " Baby Jesus" moment I mentioned in yesterday's post....and although he is quite used to me being rather irreverent , I hope he understood just how genuiningly moving such little moments are when they become part of your own tradition.
Gaynor The mad organist , was dressed in her best tartan suit and I told her she looked like a Bay City Roller fan . She looked stressed !....organisists , mad or otherwise, are greatly sought after at this time of year.
This morning the Prof and I swapped gifts as Winnie searched the wrapping paper debris we are meeting up with my family later...and I'll post some photos of us all..even if you don't want to see them
Have a nice day my people x