Going Gently

Late Home

The weather was atrocious when I got home

It was 8.30 pm and Albert, who instantly recognises Bluebell’s engine noise was already in the lane yowling his welcome.

He stands on the garden wall and we rub heads.

The rain never seems to bother him.

It’s lovely to have a proper welcome even though the cottage is quiet and cold and dark.

I feed Albert first and in the gloom of the lane street light I light the fire, and minutes later

When I turn my head in the wintery lane the wood smoke flew horizontally towards the church .

Fifty steps later ,when I collected the dogs from Trendy Carol’s Trendy conservatory , I was treated to a socially distanced preview of her newest VERY trendy sofa.

Loved it too.......expensive leather!

I fed the girls and checked my mail ......a council tax bill, a vet bill and a lovely lavender gift from Donell

a kind email from Gentleman Farmer Ralph’s son was waiting to be read too ....Ralph will be leaving his farm for the village graveyard on Friday at noon . In this covid driven world this couldn’t be officially broadcasted but the blog isn’t “official” in the truest sense of the word and I hope the lane may be filled in a socially distant way with villagers wanting to pay their respects .

It’s half nine now.

The cottage is warm and Almost cosy

The slow cooker is bubbling away with another fantastic soup and Dorothy is already asleep on my own trendy sofa

Mary is asleep with me

I’m knackered.

As Damp As An Old Lady’s Gusset

I was asked recently how I felt in myself.

I answered with an honest and somewhat tired “ I feel old” an answer which was countered with a rather judgmental and dismissive “ Thats sad, I know a lot of people your age that feel much more positive”

I said nothing but wanted to yell I bet they weren’t wearing full PPE in a south facing airless ward without air con all morning ! I fucking felt every minute of my 58 years that day, a day when my underpants were as damp and inviting as an old lady’s gusset.

Everyone knows me better than I know myself.

My recent not-so-joyful sojourn into potential ill health hasn’t helped matters, a situation gratefully acknowledged by my colleague a medic.....he said men, don’t cope well with fainting do’s.

I didn’t .........I don’t ....

Well, you would be glad to hear that a plethora of tests are in hand.

A particularly nasty troll turned up anonymously on Going Gently last Sunday to bang on just how much my ex husband wanted rid of me in lieu of a younger and probably healthier replacement and perhaps you can see it’s not been the most positive of weeks when I always supposed to have a spring in my step and a song in my heart,

Again you try acting like Donny Osmond when the trolls whine on, PPE soaks your underpants with no pay rise, even a 1% one is in sight and you think you have a brain tumour!

Ok I was exaggerating about the brain tumour ...but you get the gist.

Today I have been hiding away in my office. It’s very warm and ordered in there and the dogs and Albert love curling up on the little Victorian brass bed behind me.

For an hour I attended a ward meeting on teams and was made to remove Dorothy because of her snoring. ( the shame). My sister called up and weeded and tidied the front garden which was a nice surprise and I made a tasty low calorie bean & barley soup which was thick as wallpaper paste.

I will be eating it until Sunday.

A tidy garden and thick soup pleased me today.

So did my new office chair with is John Lewis comfortable with its castors and adjustable posture hugging upholstered seat in a gentle grey.

It arrived yesterday and I successfully put it together today.

I need a hug today....a long doze inducing hug

I think we all do.......

A Galleon In Full Sail.

Film studies tonight

Yesterday Llandudno was struck by sixty mile an hour gales. The force of the wind on the Great Orme

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Orme) was so strong that many more of the Kashmiri Goats plodded down from it’s heights to see shelter in the gardens and the bus stops of West Shore.

It was my first proper day community nursing on my own.

My sat nav failed, I got lost twice and the spectacle of me changing into PPE behind the hospice car must of made for hilarious viewing in near storm force winds as I tried to control yards of plastic apron which suddenly decided to take flight.

I did indeed look like the proverbial galleon in full sail.

Sheltering from the storm

Today remains stormy but more manageable .

Animal Helper Pat, village Leader Ian and Mrs Trellis stopped by at different times as I was spring cleaning Bluebell. The conversation is still all about Gentleman Farmer Ralph and his funeral.

We all hoped that he will be brought home before the funeral so that we all can line the lane in respect.

All of us promised that we would tell the other if we heard anything more.

Pat asked me about my “ do” on Sunday and I managed to side step the conversation.

I told her that the medical tests are in hand, which they are.

The whole subject, however has upset me, I have to be honest

Anyhow today is Hitchcock studies day and I’ve been cooking a massive concoction of garlic spiced turkey mince with sprouts and potato which is a wonderfully tasty low fat version of corned beef hash, a dinner that will keep me going for days.

I also framed a sweet embroidered blackbird, a work of art bought from a fellow blogger which arrived today and hung it on the art wall. It has a charm all of its own .

I will leave you with this I sing The Body Electric

Wanting Memories

Our on line choir listened to this together tonight

we were all moved by it and will sing it when we are eventually together

It’s been a year since we all met last

Tonight was

Twenty or so souls singing together in our living rooms, and offices and spare rooms.

It’s been a strange few days

Gravy Hands

Mortified.

I fainted as I was eating my lunch at work today.

I’ve never fainted in my life.

Woke up with strong arms around me and faces next to mine with no idea of what happened.

My hands were covered in gravy.

I’ve come home for a sleep

Mortified.

My friend Ben described the experience thus on social media

“ John told us that vimto was an acronym of vomit then he fainted, then he put his hands in his dinner. I gave him a cuddle and he came around.”

Lasagne Therapy

I’ve been a bit “ out of sorts “ this past week. I know I have and I’m sick of being up and down like the proverbial whores’ knickers ......

I fell asleep in my office covered in dogs and cat yesterday afternoon only to wake in the dark of the evening, disorientated and heady...

I even missed the Big Gay Quiz which usually bucks me up with an overdose of camp one liners.

Subsequently I didn’t sleep and spent too long and too much energy on a french zombie movie called

The Night Eats The World.

The film had its “ hero” locked inside his Parisian apartment for much of the plot where he slowly went a bit unhinged as the zombie hoards surrounded him.....a untimely metaphor for lockdown I guess.

The constant bickering in the household has had its effect too as had my subsequent move to a new role in the community at work. A move which will mean less unsocial hour pay.......pay that I need but the new role ( overseeing hospice care given at home ) is a challenge that will be good for me .

So bra straps hiked to their shortest twang, it’s onwards and upwards today.

The cottage window ps are wide open even though it’s only 6 degrees outside and I am cooking like a demon.

I made cauliflower soup this morning and will pop it to Ralph’s wife when it has cooled, and am in the middle of constructing a massive lasagne from scratch which my bubble friend Ruth and I will demolish a bit later.

It’s as low fat as you can make a giant lasagne and I am serving it with a Spanish salad and a crisp white Campo Viejo the wine the Santa Maria always served in Sitges.

We will watch that drag queen film later which is the best recipe for a light mood since I last dreamt than Russell Crowe was my boyfriend at my sisters wedding! ...now that WAS A CRACKING DREAM!!