Flashing

for Liz

My husband has worked away all week. he returned last night and has gone to work again this morning.

Such is the life of a senior academic.

I shall be driving over to the University later to join him and the other boffins for dinner.

I have just spent a frustrating 30 minutes trying to get William to have his medication.

The old boy is a clever old sausage when it comes to spitting out tablets, I wanted to weed the flower beds in readiness for house showing......

I caught two middle aged women peeping through the kitchen window on the lane at lunchtime.

They were part of a rambler group.

Other people's houses hold a fascination for some people and they were having a right old "neb" until I suddenly walked around the side of the fridge

For some strange reason I found myself pulling up my third best walking dead T shirt and exposing  my stomach to them, which made them jump back in shock ( or could it be disgust?)

I've never done such a bizarre thing before in my life

thank goodness I had my pants on

Passport Review

I've just applied for a new passport .
It's all on line now ...even your photograph can be downloaded digitally from an appropriate photo booth.! Mine was in Tescos!
I compared my new photo with my old one this morning.
Vanity has prevented me from comparing the two here ....
My hair is now a salt and pepper grey, ten years ago it was a lusty brown
My beard now looks like a badger's head and my eyes look tired.
Where does the time go? So sang the statuesque Julia Fordham 
She's bloody right too.
Where does the time go?

I'm typing this on the train to Chester.
I've got things to do there...
I may go into our favourite cafe, to have a flat white
It's always full of bright young things
Hey ho

Lifestyle Rabbit

The estate agents are photographing the cottage this afternoon. They will arrive in a moments time
The dogs have been put safely away in the car and I've done the lifestyle thing and put fresh Aldi flowers in each room.
The place is clean and tidy.
Surfaces are clear.
And Albert's decapitated lunch of baby rabbit has been removed from its bloody pool outside the back door.

Eve

"Hi John, one of the Sec’s has asked me to pass on the following. Len H (Eve H's husband) has contacted us and asked if a message can be got to you, to inform you that Eve sadly passed away a couple of weeks ago. If you would like to know about funeral arrangements he is happy for you to contact him on  ( telephone no) ta Sxx"

I haven't worked on the spinal injury unit in Sheffield for over twelve years and hadn't cared for Eve for a good 25 years but this sad little message floated to me through the Internet from my old friend and matron this afternoon.

Eve was one of my favourite patients. A party mom with a nice family , she dived into a neighbour's pool after a couple of gin and tonics and on a hot summer's day she broke her neck.
She was paralysed from the shoulders down and I was one of her named nurses during her difficult rehabilitation .

We became friends.

Despite her injury she remained very much the party animal . Gin and tonics continued to be quaffed but adapted cups with palm straps had to used rather than the best crystal .
Carers wrote her letters that accompanied her Christmas cards to me and when she was re admitted to the unit where I was now Charge Nurse, I would pop into her room and wipe away her tears of frustration at having a urology problem or a pressure sore.

I hadn't seen her since we came to Wales but she had always kept in touch albeit infrequently and I was touched that her ex husband had remembered me.

All this kind of caught me unawares this afternoon.
And the woman who came to buy the last of my hen houses said exactly the wrong thing
" I enrolled in the first of your " how to look after chickens" courses " she said " you were very patient with me when you taught me to clip your hens wings..you were very sweet..." 
It was a nice complement , a simple one. But my thoughts were elsewhere and after she had gone I had a walk around the field with Irene in tow.

And had a brief weep

Have You Ever Punched A Viking?

Mostyn Art Gallery

I had planned to drag all of the damaged old hen houses into the centre bonfire of the field today but the weather is so atrocious , I gave that up as a bad job.
It feels like a museum mooch day but as these are few and far between in Wales I have had to settle for a visit to the Mostyn Art Gallery . 
Tonight I'm going to see a Japanese movie thriller The Third Murder 

As I sit here having a flat white I remember a trip to a museum which went titsup after the person I was with punched a Viking in a display from Ye Olde York!
The museum was  in York and my companion was a paranoid schizophrenic out on a day trip.
Luckily for all involved the Viking in question was a waxwork dummy and not a jobbing actor .

I guess I was primarily to blame as I sort of knew that the patient had a thing about red hair, but the penny failed to drop after we entered the reincarnation of ancient York with realistic depictions of Viking home life and were suddenly surrounded by a plethora of ginger Scandinavian types.

The museum didn't have a security guard as I recall, just a matronly usher who was no use in helping me disengage schizophrenic from ginger dummy.
My patient got four punches in and effectively decapitated the exhibit before I dragged him away by his coat collar.

That was the last time I took a psychiatric patient out in public
December 1988

The Running Of The Horses

Even tv adverts can make a person cry
This one is a doozie !
It has every cliche thrown at it and it still works.
The group of people running to meet a herd of horses on a faraway beach include a lesbian couple expecting a baby, a wide eyed young girl and a man with downs.
It should, by rights be terribly mawkish
Instead it brought a tear to my eye

Telepathic

The Prof left for a week's work away before dawn this morning
Seconds later a certain bulldog fought her way under the duvet with a satisfied sigh
She woke me at 7.30 demanding a snog
No lie in ....proper blog later

Bum Marks On The Fridge

Facebook and blogging like most aspects of " social media" provide people with a Vehicle to show off. 

See what I've done, 

See what I've got, see how lucky I am...

See what an interesting , valid person I am

See me

See me

Like me

I've been asked by two people now to post some photos of the new( ish) kitchen. I think that many will think it a shame that we are moving so close to all the hard work it took to organise it....perhaps they are right but kitchens sell houses ( I am told) so it was fortuitous I got it done. It remains my favourite  room in the cottage. 

Today I've given it the weekend once over, and minutes after the last duster was packed away and the last bit of dirtymop water chucked down the sink, I am showing it to you

Of course it's not really like this....

The photos are there to underline how lovely I am.

How lucky andhow houseproud and interesting I am...

The photos lie

The arm chair never looks like the chair in the photo. The arm seat and back usually have strategically placed teatowels on them ---a protection from muddy paw prints. 

And along the window ledge , just out of shot in the first photo is Albert's smelly cat food bowl half filled with bits of horse that has had the gravy licked off it.

Just right of the New York arty cushion ( see more me, me me !) are paw scuff arks on the paint where Albert knocks his bad leg at every visit to his dinner plate.

They are there every day

And I wipe them off every day.

Hidden under the table George is keeping his usual low profile on his sheepskin bed. 

Despite regular washes the bed remains grey and "doggy" 

Not quite homes and gardens material me thinks.

Part of the kickboard by the sink is not quite square , there is a dust trail the length of Hadrian's wall on the new radiator and I can make out a clear bum mark left by William on the side of the fridge cupboard which I somehow missed in my frenzy of cleaning

See not quite perfect everyone

Not quite perfect .......