Best Laid Plans


Eight people so far have shown an interest in the allotment.
I think that is a good start.
Weekends are traditionally a time to clear the weeds away.

Weekends have become something of a sad time, which is a habit I now need to change. I have always been used to my own company during the week, even when I was " married" such is the life of someone who has a partner who often worked elsewhere. But I always had the weekends in part or in entirety with someone else " there" 
Now the weekend can stretch and bore and remind a person that they are alone with only a nursing shift to bookend the days alone.

Mrs Trellis sort of told me off today when I alluded to it. 
She has been living alone for well over a decade, a fact she reminded me of kindly
She was as polite and as twittery as usual but the message in her conversation was clear
" Stop feeling sorry for yourself , you're not the only one" 

I've got a few things planned next week. Choir, work, a funeral, lunch out with a friend, Sams and next Sunday a trip to the cinema with the georgous Dave, I just need to add in a few more things in I guess.

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry........"
let's hope not


Resurrections

I've got laryngitis..not that it matters as it is so windy. You can't make out what I'm saying

So forgive the sound quality .....I've got an idea for the field this year.....this is a translation

I'm planning to open up the attotments again but instead of keeping the plots all for myself I aim to open them up to the village so anyone can have their own plot on loan .
No sub letting that's not allowed, but I think a few more fellow veg growers and the subsequent camaraderie will be a good step forward

Ps. D Hovestad.........thank you xxx

More virus

My solicitor is a sweet warm Welsh Woman .
She was wearing elasticated pants today and I wasn't sure if she was pregnant or just post Christmas
I'm full of a cold virus yet again and feel like shit, I'm on three nights this week.
Before I saw her I'd just bought some lem sip, vitamin c and a jigsaw from Aldi
How rock n roll
The last time I saw her, I followed our meeting with a contemplative and rather tearful  sit in the Cathedral in St Asaph
And today, she told me just how worried she was for me then
" You look like a different person today " she said kindly
I feel like shite , so I must have really have looked like shit back then.
I took winnie with me as the practice secretary has a bulldog.
During my meeting I left them both together sharing a packet of hoopla hoops as several selfies were being taken.
Bet I was still charged a hundred quid for the meeting!
Hey ho

Samaritans...Can I help You?


I answered the door to a small, rather unkempt lady who was leaning heavily on a stick
She looked remarkably like Jimmy Krankie and smelled very heavily of alcohol.
" Are You ok?" I asked her in my best samaritan voice
" I don't need to talk, I just need a piss " the woman coughed " I'm bursting" 
She obviously knew that we had a disabled toilet on the ground floor.
Beaten before I had even started I showed her to the loo which was only steps from the front door.
After a minute there came the unmistakable sound of buttocks slapping floor tiles followed by a big " OOOOFFFFFF ....FUCKING HELL......"
" Are you alright?! " I called out
" I've missed the toilet !!!" Came the plaintive cry
" Can I come in?" I asked, hoping to hell that I didn't have to
" I can't bloody well get up" was the muffled response.
I ventured inside
The inebriated lady had indeed missed the toilet but she and her insides had certainly not missed the floor so it was with a heavy heart and on tip toe that I managed to get her back on the loo in one piece    Whilst unravelling the loo roll like a demon in order to mop up the " leakage"
" I'm really pissed" the woman explained in lieu of an apology
I muttered "No shit Sherlock!" Helping her with her knickers !

Moments later she was on her way home, a lot damper but certainly lighter than when she arrived.
We are a public service

Choir


Back to choir tonight and it was joyous!
I was sooo glad to be back
We sang a version of the South African Nkosi Sikelel' lAfrica followed by the Welsh lullaby Cysgu di fly mhlentys tiws (Sleep my little Children) both of which are new to us
Choirmaster Jamie ( still sporting his 1940 RAF moustache) informed us that he wants us to sing in a massive community choir get together on the South Bank in London in the Autumn
How wonderful
I'm game .....

Julian And Sandy





The bantam cockerels who upped sticks from the Ukrainian Village last year are still doing well thanks to the collective support of the neighbours.
They sleep atop one of the yew trees in the Churchyard and walk over the Cottage in the morning to spend the day bumming scraps from Sailor John and Mandy and Trendy Carol further down the lane.
Occasionally they will sit on my bathroom window ledges if I leave the window wide open after one of those ( I'd give it a few minutes if I were you ) moments, much to the hysteria of Mary who still finds any hen fair game in the chase you /kill you stakes.
Another neighbour refers to the cockerels as Julian and Sandy then got all of a dither when he thought he was not being politically correct in front of me
I love when people get in a dither 

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