The heating engineer has not long left. He and Winnie have been tweaking the central heating system together. He installed the fire and the heating pipes originally so is comfortable having a his old apprentice back.
She sat with him for almost an hour, her head resting, wherever possible on his discarded work jacket.
As they finally came down the stairs he remarked on a mark on the corner of the landing
"I thought at first I had caught the paintwork with my toolbox" "No" I reassured him "the mark's been there for a while"
Like most things that you have lived with for a long time, that mark, to me had become invisible.
It's like the plaster indentation I left after I repaired the water damaged hole in the ceiling caused by The Prof overfilling the bath before getting into it.
It's like the painting hung in the corner under the stairs no longer in the normal line of sight.
and it's like the old stove too heavy to move which has sat outside the kitchen door for the past two years.
Things there, but things no longer seen to be there.
The mark on the wall was William's,
it was his footprint on my life.
A corner where he itched his bottom...... a pleasurable pain for him and a minor irritation for me.
The stain left by a thousand bum rubs.
An I woz ere grease DNA signature
After the engineer had gone I gathered up some cleaning spray and a cloth and marched up the stairs with good intentions.
I was a tad early for my Driving Awareness Course so stopped at Theatre Clwyd for a coffee and a mooch. It was then when I checked my emails and realised that the course was scheduled for next Friday and not today!
I'm doing a great deal of these absent minded things recently.
With a sudden free afternoon I had a walk around the art gallery at the Theatre, bought one of those fan thingies for the top of the wood burner from a hardware shop in Mold and then took Mary in for a check up at the vets as her already operated on ear is playing up again.
75£ lighter we came home via McDonalds where she was treated to a cheeseburger for being a good girl.
I had booked a night out at with my friend Naomi tonight but we couldn't agree on a venue so I will catch up with her next week. I've also promised Gorgeous Dave a game of Badminton ....him in a pair of shorts may steam up my glasses unfairly!
Tonight I've got to bathe Mary in her new medicated shampoo
how rock n roll!
The postman dropped off a smaller pile of postcards today with a harrumph
"I'll be glad when this competition is finally over " he moaned as he popped today's entries through the window alongside a calendar of some scantily clad firemen sent from Angela in Australia!
you mucky cow!
I called him a miserable bumface
The first homemade WALKING DEAD postcard! now we know one prise winner
When the chasing game between and Mary and Albert gets too robust Albert takes himself away to his usual hideaway.
Dogs are naturally rather dim creatures that are governed by excitement and visual cues, so when Mary gleefully gallops into the bathroom in order to corner Albert in order to give him a nip or extra wet arse lick his disappearance into the tub stops her dead in her tracks.
in her mind he has simply vanished into another room so off she goes, eyes rolling and tongue lolling, ever hopeful in the possibility of catching him.
As the hysteria continued
Albert played his banjo quietly, surrounded by a white ceramic calm
I'm ok today. I had a wobble yesterday. Separation Bereavement was the problem.....coupled with the uncertainty of the whole legal process and my future plans......today is another day, and the animals are chasing each other like loons, I have a driver awareness course to complete this afternoon which will, I am sure provide me with the material for a funny blog entry later and there is just the odd glimpse of blue in the Storm Eric sky over the village.
Just 90 minutes sleep and it was Mary's hysterical barking at the bantam cockerels that dragged me up out of my bed.
This was just after midday, so after making a cuppa and eggs on toast I lay back down on the sofa only to be woken minutes later by the postman who was manfully trying to slot twenty five postcards through the letterbox as Mary tried to savage his fingers ( a great game she inherited from William)
I gave up with the thought of sleep and pottered around the cottage until 4pm when, after walking the dogs and lighting the fire I climbed into the arm chair for a doze.
The phone rang
It was my neighbour Trevor in his sing song Welsh voice "Hello John Bach! I'm at the hospital!"
My 95 year old friend had driven himself to the hospital for an earlier appointment where the consultant had found out that he had a serious problem with his foot. He was now sat in A&E with a massive surgical boot on and couldn't get home.
I drove down to the hospital and after a few false starts found Trevor in a side room with a specialist nurse practitioner.
"I'm glad you're here" she said "you can do the injections"
She and Trevor were obviously waiting to go home
Apparently Trevor had injured his tendons rather badly and needed daily anti coagulation injections as well as the support of a giant boot. He was sat cheerfully in a chair with a couple of crutches.
I eyed the crutches and reminded the nurse that Trevor lived in a split level bungalow which had a steep drive and a dozen steps
"Has he been assessed by the physio for steps?" I asked
The nurse shot off to find one
Of course it was four thirty and they all had gone home
I did the assessment!
Minutes later I piled Trevor, his crutches, medications and sharp box in Bluebell and we were off for home. "Shall we pick you up some tea?" I asked Trevor who had been at the clinic most of the day
"I fancy fish and chips!" Trevor said, so we stopped at the local fish and chip shop where they cooked Trevor's meal from fresh.
It was almost dark when we got back to the village
I got Trevor out of Bluebell, arranged his crutches safely, removed the fish and chip supper, meds and the like and asked for his house keys.
"I've left them in the car!" Trevor said open eyed
The car was at the hospital!
I piled Trevor, the chip supper , the meds and the crutches back into Bluebell and drove back to the hospital in rush hour traffic.
I was near A&E when Trevor piped up with a quiet "The car is not here its at the Park and Ride"
We drove in silence to the park and ride!
It was pitch black when we finally got back to the village, not good conditions for a 95 year old to negotiate a steep drive in crutches for the first time.
I spied Meirion Jones walking his dog in the lane and recruited his help.
Between us we finally got Trevor, his meds, crutches and fish and chip supper safely back into the house......
I made it to choir just as Jamie, the 1940s RAF moustached Choir master started his warm ups. Alto Ann slipped me a postcard for the competition before we started to learn the beautiful Jewish lullaby Durme, Durme ( which Ironically means "Sleep Sleep) ....and I more or less forgot just how tired I was
It's been an odd day.
Tomorrow's post will cover the sob fest that was " getting an elderly neighbour back from hospital farce " ( not fun after no sleep but I hope it will make funny reading) So tonight I will share Jason The Affable despot and Gorgous Dave's win in the Trelawnyd Pub Quiz
Ok I was there to mop up the showbiz section ( Jason was good at History and Dave excelled at the glamorous lady questions ) so we actually won a meal voucher and a bottle of bubbly.
All this was after choir where we learned a tradition and rather moving Spanish/ Jewish Lullaby
The day could be any more different if it tried
