Valentine

Going Gently provides The Prof with a somewhat shadowy home.
Here he is often depicted as the bellowing straight guy to my bumbling, shabby, slightly comic fool.
He huffs and puffs like a Victorian patriarch when I fall over, dress inappropriately and wax lyrical over a zombie tv programme and seems to be constantly disappointed by my slap dash country ways.
Some of this is true, some is exploited for comic effect...that is the truth of blogs

He is my husband and I love him dearly.
But I am no Doris Day.
I'm not an easy spouse despite my depiction of self as a Mother Theresa/ James Herriot sort crossed with Alan Bennet.
The truth is  that I am an opinionated, stubborn and at times incredibly difficult character to live with and The Prof has lived with me for two decades.
I was thinking only yesterday of when we actually started to live together and do you know that I cannot remember the date clearly.
One day I was living in a large Victorian terraced house in Hillsborough all alone with my cats then the next  the Prof had filled the left hand side of my empty wardrobe with natty clothes and had his own office in the back bedroom!
It all felt very fluid and right.

Our wedding day was the happiest of my life
It felt very right too.

He is my valentine

Snow Go

By eleven am the village school closed and parents and grandparents turned up looking harassed in order to collect the pupils.
It only had been snowing for a few hours but effectively ( and in the U.K. So Commonly ) the whole village almost came to a standstill.
Trendy Carol ( in a nice cream coat, natty pullover and woolly tights) knocked on the lane window to let me know know that the Shrove Tuesday's pancake lunch at the London Road Chapel had been cancelled.
It was up to her to do the cooking, now she's nose to nipple with eggs, milk and lemons.

I've spent my " trapped" tine making curry,  pancake batter and butternut squash ( with chili) soup whilst listening to a BBC radio production rerun of The Maltese Falcon 

Ordinary People

I think I was around sixteen when I read Judith Guest's Ordinary People. The book resonated with me more than any other at that time.
What book resonated the most with you?  And why?
I'd be interested to know

Little dramas, little victories

Little dramas
Little victories
Life is made up of both
Every day.

William picked up something as we walked along London Road this morning.
I only noticed when Winnie crowded in to see what it was and he deftly turned his head away so she couldn't get near.
I stopped quicksticks thinking he had picked up a disguarded chocolate bar or something similar ( our previous Welsh terrier had almost been killed by scoffing a mars bar he found in Hillsborough park) and so I stopped him and ordered he drop what he had picked up.
Out plopped a male sparrow.
I think it must have been struck by a car, as it seemed lifeless and had a bloodied eye, but it raised its head feebly so I picked it up and tucked it into my pocket.
It was still hanging on when I got home and so I tucked it into and old French biscuit tin and placed the tin  into the airing cupboard  

An hour later, I opened the tin and looking up at me was the sparrow with one bright button black eye.
It flew away over the Churchyard moments later in bouncy and powerful half loops.

Game of Thrones

I've burnt my arse on an over bleached toilet again !
This is at least the fourth time I have done it.
Even Pavlov's dogs eventually learnt from their mistakes.
I always sit on the bowl rather than the seat....
The seat pinches me

No news Friday

Been clearing the garden for most of the day

So it's a lazy post 

Trelawnyd from the air

Being Watched at the kitchen table

After leaving her too long

Good News

I've wasted the morning by falling asleep in the arm chair and I would have stayed there if the dogs had left me alone.
Chiding myself with a brusque This won't do!  I pulled myself up by my bra straps and took the dogs out. The village was quiet in the blustery weather but I did say hello to affable Despot Jason ( sporting a sort of rock star roadie look) and Trendy Carol who was out and about in her best dayglo ski jacket ( and matching leggings)
The phone was ringing just as I returned home, it was Animal Helper Pat and she sounded joyous.
Now over the past few months Pat has effectively been going blind. A combination of macular degeneration and cataracts has forced her to give up her car and some of her independence and even small jobs such as the composition of an email had to be put on hold until one of us could go around to help.
It's been a tough time for her and she never complained once.
Not once.
I had forgotten that earlier in the week she had some last ditch cataract surgery and last night as she recuperated in front of her tv she suddenly regained her sight in one eye.
It was lovely to hear
" I can see the trees and the flowers in the garden and the back of your cottage " she shared, the happiness palpable in her voice
" I can even see the snow on the mountains !!!" 
Your heart does soar when you hear good news, I teared up at her obvious elation

When I went out to buy my tea, I bought the most colourful bunch of tulips I could find and dropped them off  before I went home
"Enjoy the colours again!" I told her

insomnia

I was assessing a new Samaritan volunteer until well past 1am this morning and it left me thoughtful and wired.
It's now 3 am and I'm still awake long after coming home.
Although I am a night owl, I hate being awake at this time. It's just not normal
Being awake at 3 am can be rather lonely.
Especially as everyone else in the house is sleeping

A few minutes ago Mary awoke, and bounced on top of me then onto the small table in front of our lounge window. She gazed into the front garden with tail raised and as I stood up I could see two badgers play fighting on the lawn.

A lovely piece of drama amid the dross....
What do u do if you can't sleep? Please share...cos I have no idea