An Elderly Shop

Today It was my turn to do some shopping and complete the prescription run for an elderly neighbour  who isn't too well.
I found the shopping list nostalgicly bittersweet in nature
Tinned stew, custard tarts, fruit cocktail.
The foodstuffs my mother used to like when I shopped with her on her weekly sojourn from her nursing home.
This was seventeen years or so ago now but I remember very well, loading up Chris's fiat in Sheffield    with a " loaned" oxygen cylinder from work and then driving the hundred miles to wales in order to take my mother out for a few hours.
Now when I say "taking out" I actually mean driving with her to Sainsbury's car park in order for her to Chain smoke cigarettes whilst connected to piped oxygen ( I know !!!I know!!!) 
As she puffed away I was sent into the store with a list.
After nearly two decades I can share that list without pausing

2 packets of lambert & Butler cigarettes,
Two strawberry tarts ( with cream),
2 miniature Gordon's gin,
A Daily Mail ( newspaper)
Wet wipes,
A Vicks nasal decongestant,
A box of tissues,
Bags of assorted sweets ( to be used as bribes so that the nursing home staff would take her for a cigarette )
Disposable lighter

After I'd shopped, and before we left for a " drive" one of the gins and one of the tarts had already disappeared as had at least three more fags and with the passenger window fully open regardless of weather we'd have a tootle around before she got bored and demanded to go back to the home.
This was the weekly routine until the day she died.
No serious conversations, no angst ,
No On Golden Pond moments,

Just a supermarket car park " gin and fag" picnic
And a hatchback that smelled of smoke on the long trip home



Ps before you think I was lovely read the 5th comment below xx

Gorgeous Dave

Gorgeous Dave earned his nickname on the very first shift he did as a Samaritan .

It was Sams stalwart Norma who coined the phrase, for after he walked past her booth and flashed a pearly white smile at her she looked at me with a look of astonishment and mouthed the words " Fuck he's gorgeous !" So dithered by his sudden appearance ( presumably one that was accompanied by a fanfare of celestial trumpets) she promptly knocked her crutches from the back of her chair but never let her caller know that she had just been wrong footed by a surge of oestrogen .....

Now that's a professional Samaritan for you!

Last night I went for a drink with Gorgeous Dave. We had become friendly during his brief time with us and both of us thought it time we reconnected . Gorgeous Dave had recently split up from a long term girlfriend.....and you know my history only too well, so meeting up over a pint to lick wounds seemed only sensible , especially given the fact we were both used dealing with sad stories! 

Now GD is dealing with being a singleton in a slightly different way to me . Where as I have spent too long a time crying at TV re runs of Pet Rescue in my track suit bottoms ( the ones with a hole in the crutch) whilst eating anything savoury from out of the fridge GD had made the most of his looks and has started to think about dating again. 

Gorgeous people can do that. mouldy old pongos like me cannot.....it's the way of the world 

I explained to GD  that 56 in gay years means that you are more past your gay sell by date than if you were a  three month old prawn sandwich left in your glove box.

He was lucky, he was straight, looked almost 30 and had teeth like Donny Osmond , he'd be snapped up as quickly as a Black Friday 62 inch tv.

We laughed about it but playing the daddy role I did suggest that he spends some time on his own.

It's easy to hide your hurt behind dating......especially if you look like a Welsh Dev Patel. 

When you look like a gone to seed Russel Crowe in hole filled sweatpants its easier to have the time to reflect that dating is not quite the answer to grief

Ps

This was intended to be a frivilious post and not one fishing for complements.....

The photo is not of the real Dave but is a pretty close version

I will leave you with the views i can see now....winnie bumming chips at the beach cafe

My Favourite

 I adore Olivia Coleman .
Just listening to her giving an interview fills me with pleasure, as her self effacing and always breathless humour is exactly what I find attractive in another human being.
I've treated myself to a midday showing of The Favourite today
So later, I shall share the review
I suspect Mz Coleman will receive a few plaudits .

The Favourite has a " look" all of it's own.
Set against the fashions of an early 18th Century Royal court, director Yorgos Lanthimos has created a sumptuous, predominantly black and white hued version of the power struggles of three very different women.
Lady Marlborough ( Rachel Weisz ) the straight talking power behind the frail and sickly Queen Anne ( Olivia Coleman) is effectively running the Royal Court and indeed the country.
When her cousin Abigail ( Emma Stone) a lady fallen on difficult times arrives asking for a job the dynamic between Queen and her confidant and lover is challenged which leads to a whole series of manipulations and intrigues behind the Royal Closed doors.

Hard stare Stone

This is a powerful and clever film which balances the characters of all three protagonists equally.
Each woman is shown in balance.. sometimes we see each acting as a monster, sometimes with more  sympathy and not one quite outshines the other in the intensity of their performances.
Weisz and Stone dance around each other with wonderfully wicked turns and Coleman truly shines as the complex and childish Monarch...especially in one pivotal scene where we are only privy to a facial close up, which literally breaks your heart, as she shares the heartbreak of a Queen ravaged by bereavement and bad health.

Weisz in full swish

Common Sense

Winter 1985 York

Psychotherapy and counselling only works if the recipient has insight into their condition or problem

So many " professionals" allow their time to be an emotional romp rather than an effort to explore the roots of the problem  and yesterday I was reminded of a moment when I witnessed a real eureka moment during a therapeutical interaction.

The moment was a pivotal one.

The patient had slashed at her arms and neck with broken crockery after a particularly difficult weekend leave at home and was being seen by the psychologist moments after allowing me to dress her wounds. She was crying and forlorn, but managed to share that her husband had emotionally battered her during a family celebration designed to celebrate her inpatient improvement and removal from a mental health section.

Much of her therapy was concerned with abuse this patient had received at the hands of a critical and emotionally weak, jealous father. 

Confused and distraught the patient kept referring to her husband's behaviour  by repeating the words " Why.... why why?  " as she ripped at her bandages and as I stood to intervene the psychologist, a thin , vital little Yorkshireman waved me away with a grim smile

He knelt at the patient's feet, took her hands and caught her gaze

"His teeth fit your wounds" he said slowly " His teeth fit your wounds!" 

" Do you understand?"  and eventually through her tears the patient nodded

The link between her choice of husband with the behaviour of the  ghost of her father clarified by a simple phrase.

Eureka 

Chatty

Congratulations to teenage boffin Cameron who had just passed his driving test.

I need to book him to cottage sit when I go up to Sheffield next month, I hope he can make it as Mrs Trellis is my next bet and the dogs will run circles around her. 

She's no disciplinarian
Sheffield will be a hug to my heart.....for as well as the hospital reunion Im arranging to meet old friends Mike, Bev, Jane, John, Kath and Vince.....2018 I let things lapse with them

Trendy Carol, ( nice hair new jacket) dropped me a late Christmas gift of miniature gins yesterday. Her Terrier was on the same medication as William so it was a thank you for me passing it all over to her. 

"Gorgeous Dave "from Samaritans has just called wanting a catch up and I've arranged to meet up with him on Saturday for a drink which will be nice...I told him I needed to pull myself out of my Yuletide funk and he agreed......I m going to see if village elder Islwyn could give me a lift so I can have a small Sherry! I'm sure he will....

It's my turn to book some theatre for the affable despot, Jason and I to go to and choir starts next week which will be fun....our choirmaster wants to take us all to a big joint sing in London this year! 

How fantastic is that?
My friend Greta has promised me a night out of gossip too...after my night shift ...she's on!
Grabs bra straps and pulls!

It's cold tonight and I'm off to bed soon in some thermal socks my sister gave me for Christmas.....bloody lovely they are too
Winnie has watched Rick Stein prepare several meals in India tonight, then sat through a re run of Bake off and is now enjoying a documentary on the Mississippi ...I may leave the tv on for her overnight
Hey ho

Creating A Monster

With George now assuming top dog status by spending every sleeping moment in the much sought after blue arm chair, Winnie has been now been relegated to the small edwardian arm chair in the corner of the living room.  Already fed up with this " demotion" she now has made it her misson to sneak onto the couch with me and Mary where she has suddenly found herself mesmerised with the devil himself....the television  For hours in an evening ( and like most if the UK population) she will now watch any old shite thats going but seems to  prefer action tv and movies to anything more cerebral or thoughtful  The other evening she seems to be particularly engrossed in Disneys Jungle Book but did sit through the Victoria Cohen Mitchel Quiz Show Only Connect without blinking.
   

Spinal Days

Im not a lover of reunions You know reunions from school...the class of 74 and all that.  It all leaves me somewhat cold. In Febuary ive been invited to a reunion of staff from the Princess Royal Spinal Injury unit in Sheffield  It will. I  know be an emotional evening and is one I am looking forward to.  Some places in your history hold a special place in your heart, and that rehabilitation unit filled with like minded multi disciplined staff was the place that taught me how to be not only an effective holistic carer but what I hope was a popular and effective manager of people.  The special nature of spinal nursing is centred around the fact you have the patients for so long. On the acute ward  ( the one I ran) the patients were admitted anything from three to six months, sometimes longer in the those with respirstory complications,after which they would be transferred to a sister ward in order to complete their rehabilitation .  It was not uncommon to have a professional relationship with patients and their families  for a year or so, so it wasnt uncommon for patients to become if not true friends, but rather special people in your life. I have not worked there since 2005 and Im still in touch with staff and former patients. 
 In Febuary Ive arranged to meet up with Kim before we go. A former psychologist on the unit who now lives down south. Kim, I know shares my affection for the place " This is a place of much humour, strength and warmth " she once said with an emphasis on the humour. 
 The following was the paraphrased
conclusion of a thank you letter I recieved from a visiting district nurse back in 1997
" Despite the gravity of the disabilities dished out  to ordinary people often by sudden arbitary accidents this centre has such a positive and cohesive approach in maximising independence and personal responsibility.  I have been humbled by it. God bless you for sharing that with me "
 We all have a place that shapes and defines us.  The Spinal Unit in Sheffield did that for me.      

New Year Clean Bitch

Doing extra night shifts tonight and tomorrow night

Vet's bills need paying