Going Gently

A Lie-in

I’m doing something I have not done since I was a teenager

Something indulgent, something certainly selfish, something just a bit wicked.

As a grown man it has taken me 38 years to revisit it again

It’s a lockdown phenomenon

It’s naughty

And as one antipodean artist used to say

Can you tell what it is yet?

I’m talking about the lie in.

Well if I was being totally honest it is a return to bed after a brief early morning dog walk

But you will understand the gist.

My lie-ins are somewhat loud affairs

They are filled with bulldog snores and the unexpected purring from a cat well know for his silence.

Occasionally Mary from the window seat will raise a sleepy eye to a passing dog walker and will let out a muffled Woof ! which will in turn illicit a brief hiatus in the purring and the snoring but it is not long before airways are compromised and feline confidence returns and the background noises of the cottage return to normal .

It’s 9.45 am

Hummmmm.........another half hour is in order.

The Impossible

I have just re watched the film The Impossible

A story of the Boxing Day Tsunami

This scene broke my heart just a little

Tomorrow my bubble friend Ruth and I will be watching Central Station more sobs xxx

What Day Is it?

The view down from the Gop to the coastal plain was magnificent this morning. The snow covered peaks of Snowdon are clear as a bell

It’s cold in Llandudno too and the Goats are down in the town again

I’ve been busy on line shopping

New chew proof leads for Dorothy

Underpants x 6

Some zombie dvds

A footstool

A hand blender

I paid my speeding fines on line too

Spoke to an old friend who is poorly

Read some more of my book

And realised I have absolutely nothing to talk about

Snowdrops

It’s a soup day, butter bean and chicken with paprika .

After three consecutive twelve hour shifts, I had a lie in with a book this morning, then walked the dogs, shopped and photographed the churchyard snowdrops before the cold ushered me back to the cottage in order to light the fire.

Incoming

“ You have to be kidding”

I managed to leave out the fucking in “you have to be FUCKING kidding”

But it really DID deserve to be inserted there as I stood for a mini second with urine in my face, urine seeping under my mask into my mouth and eyes and all across my head.

The patient and the nurse-who had forgotten that she had left the urine standing inside a covered bedpan looked at me open mouthed

I lost my usual bouncy sense of humour and bolted to the sluice where I ripped off my sodden mask and washed my face and hair

Urine in open eyes and mouth is the equivalent to a needle stick injury and has to be taken seriously

After a shower, a failed blood taking effort by the hospice doctor, a long talk to occupational health and cup of hot tea, my sense of humour slowly started to reappear.....just !

Once I nursed a psychiatric patient who would intermittently delve down his pants , grab a large and rather wet turd and fling it at the nearest nurse.

The staff would get used to the melodramatic warning cries of “incoming !!” as turd left hand and a blob of brown hurtled through the air of the ward like a smelly hand grenade .

* photo of Dorothy tonight , sleeping in front of Trendy Carol’s log burner

A Dialogue

My husband left back in the summer of 2018....three years this summer and I’ve been thinking for a good while now that I was still a bit stuck with the anger of how he left rather than the why he left.

I’ve already written about my recent approach to his mother where hurts were put to bed so it only seemed Common sense that he and I finally had a dialogue of sorts sans blame and anger.

The impetus for me to initiate the contact came from a recent video call I set up with a dear friend who has a cancer. He had lost considerable weight since our last meeting and I blurted out the fact as soon as I saw him......like a broken hearted loon . Our conversation ,as conversations always do with friends that are deeply loved, then descended into gossip and chat and laughter but the call left me with the aching reminder of the fragility of the every day and underlined the pointless nature of prolonged anger and hurt when a relationship goes south.

The dialogue I had today with my ex husband The “ Prof” wasn’t prolonged, but it was to the point. It was honest and most importantly .....and by celebrating the good times ......it was mutually kind.

Time to swim on.........in that big river......