Hostiles



The final scene of the film Hostiles is one of the most powerful, I think,  in recent times.
PTSD sufferer Christian Bale is saying goodbye to the woman( Rosamund Pike)  and child he saved from an Indian attack  and now finally after a whole lifetime of abuse he has the option to join her ( and salvation ) or carry on hating his Indian foes and perpetuating his hatred for ever ....at the very last minute he quietly chooses salvation, and I remember leaving the cinema after I had witnessed this , elated and rather hopeful

How many choices do we all have that actually shape our lives for the better like this 

Answers on a postcard please.


Sunday Lunch



Tier 4 has gotten  me into some awful ways .
My day off and after walking the girls at 8am, it was back to bed until midday.
Not good and a very bad habit to get into.
I’ve chided myself for it this afternoon and had a brisk and very cold walk on the beach in way of penance.  
When I returned home I roasted a lamb shank and made Yorkshire puddings from scratch. 
When they were cooked crisp, I shredded the lamb and filled them and added proper gravy made luxurious with cranberry jelly.
I ate my lunch watching How The West Was Won 
Mary won the lottery and had the bones all to herself
I washed my uniforms for the week
and read several chapters of The lost Language Of Cranes before falling asleep in my armchair.

Rubber Chicken Immortalised


Winnie’s Rubber Chicken is being framed for eternity .
I have thought this strange thought ever since I found rubber chicken next to Winnie on the kitchen floor just before Christmas. It’s kind of become synonymous with my dear old girl.

I rang the picture framer the day before yesterday, (the one I’ve used for years ) and asked if it was possible to do 
You want to frame a rubber chicken behind glass” the picture framer repeated slowly after I had thrown the proposal to him 
Yes” I told him cheerfully “ it was Winnie’s favourite “ 
The fact , that he might think that this question was in any way odd surprised me, after all I could have rang him with the request that he framed the last surviving slipper of sex, which I had incidentally found amid a ton of fluff under the bed only a month ago
The picture framer then  ventured into territory he wasn’t quite prepared for.
“Do you want an insert into the frame  some wording .” He asked 
Oh that’s a good idea” I told him. “What about the following” 
“ Winifred Salote Taupo III Queen of Tonga 200? - 2020 “ 
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone
“ I think we can do that “ the picture framer said finally and rather weakly 
He then paused, obviously thinking 
What colour frame would you like ? “ he asked 
“ Pink!” I announced loudly 

Of course!” he sighed “ Of  Course you do “ 

 

2021

 


This beautiful hand painted card is my New Years Message

A dear blog reader sent it me a year or so ago,

 and it sits next to my favourite paintings in the living room

It’s  message resonates to this day.

Just take my name out and put in your own 

That’s all any of us can do, just keep swimming

It’s 6 am and I’m sat at my kitchen table with my bucket of coffee preparing for work

Winnie’s rubber Chicken is looking at me

And I’m sure he’s smiling 

New Year Eve

The lane up to the village , my cottage is at the top

The cottage with her bluebirds


I got home last night to thick ice and some snow. 
The girls were safe at Trendy Carol’s so I picked them up, fed them and we all promptly went to bed.
I felt dreadful.
But overnight the antibiotics started to do their thing and by morning I didn’t feel too bad.
I’m resting today. 
I Bought a trashy Asian  disaster movie for this afternoon and I will go to bed early which is my want to do on New Years Eve. 
My long awaited turn around on day shifts have come around with a vengeance , I’m working the next two long days and the hospice staffing is pretty low.
Hey ho, be careful for what you wish for eh? 

Now my blog today, is passed over to you commentators, 
It has proved so often to be a good move on my behalf as often the comments are much more interesting than the post itself .

Of course it’s about New Years Eve, 
More importantly a New Years Eve

What is your most memorable New Years Eve? 

I have not really celebrated New Years Eve since the 1980s where it was common here to get dressed up in fancy dress and make a tit out of yourself at family parties and the local pub circuit 
In 1989 that was all finished for me when a friend, Ian Parry, was killed in a plane crash on the 28 th of December.
Frivolity and celebrations at New Year just kind of ceased after that

Perhaps it’s almost time to change this ......? 

Tell me your New Year stories.
 



Willis

 


My low mood recently hasn’t been helped by a recurrent urine infection which now seems to be finally reacting to a second load of antibiotics. 
A fourth dose of Ciproxin had me starting to feel better this afternoon, but as I was scraping the frost and snow from Bluebell this morning, the plastic scraper broke and a piece smacked me hard in the right eye.
Mid morning my eye was bloodshot and painful so I asked our retired doctor who was on duty in the hospice to have a look at it.
He held my head under the glare of a fluorescent light in order to oversee the damage only to be interrupted by the unit housekeeper who immediately made 5 out of 2+2 and gasped an “ohh sorry,”  before bolting  out of the door in fits of giggles ....

Tonight I’ve just taken my fifth dose of antibiotics with a half litre of water and have given myself some eye drops and with the girls piled under my duvet, I’m in bed watching Giselle looking like Shrek 
The Willis are just what the doctor ordered  

Early Morning

My first day shift in nearly four months starts in two hours.
I didn’t sleep and was awake just after 3am and 5 am
At half five I took the girls and Albert for a walk in the frost
A group of four badgers were spinning in the lane outside Trendy Carol’s and for a moment at each ends of the dark lane  we faced each other off before the badgers scattered like fat leaves...Mary yapped and Albert arched golden eyed as they fled.
Dorothy hugged my calf, frightened as always minutes after the encounter.
I settled the animals down on the kitchen reading chair as I made my breakfast, and even Albert was nearby rubbing his face on the chair back.
I’ve just realised .....I miss saying goodbye to a human before I go to work.