“SPOILER ALERT: We all die in the end.”

 Oh I couldn’t possibly live next to a graveyard

How many times have I heard this phrase over the years?

I heard it just yesterday, a conversation with a walker who was looking for local properties to buy

I don’t like the thought of seeing gravestones everyday, I really couldn’t 

Arnt you frightened ?

I’ve been in Trelawnyd fifteen years

And I’ve known a few people who are in the graveyard now.

Sylvia the flower show matriarch, Bob the Chicken who taught me to kill chickens humanely. The Red Faced Welsh Farmer, John,animal helper Pat’s husband, Olwenna and Her friend Gwyneth from Pen Y Cefn Isa, Flower Show stalwarts Meirion H and Mrs Lewis , I could go on 

Friends and acquaintances 

I can walk around the cemetery at night without being fazed 

And do,so,regularly 

What is there to be possibly frightened of?

Just old friends 

A painting of the church and churchyard by Hattie

The Funeral

 The hearse turned the corner by Pen Y Cefn Isa Farm around twenty five past eleven. I could just see it above the hawthorn hedge of my field. 

It was moving at a slow walking pace, with Ralph’s closest walking behind.

Already a fair , socially distanced crowd had gathered outside the church and the workmen builders cementing bricks around the new build behind my cottage had quieted their radio and had laid down their tools as requested.

Sailor John and I stood on the lawn of our respective gardens and waited. 

It wasn’t long before the funeral cars appeared.

One of the younger women in the party carried Ralph’s shepherd’s crook which was a nice touch I thought.

Sailor John and I bowed our heads to Lywenna who was sat stiffly in the second car.

We have waved to her so many times as she passed through the lane over the years.

I watched the outdoor service from my field. Village Elder Islwyn and the gravedigger stood to one side in their yellow workmen coats and in the far corners of the Churchyard , little knots of people stood to attention as a Welsh Minister took the service, his thickly accented baritone catching the faint breeze to where I stood allowing me to hear the odd phrase or word above the caws of the Crows in the trees surrounding the village pond and the far screams of seagulls flying over the fields to the West.

Amazing Piano Duet

This mini film is worth wasting four minutes on

It’s quite touching 

KFC

 I used a lull in my workload at teatime  to collect a KFC 

It was for one of my patients who loves a takeaway 

Food remains a huge pleasure for him, which is often a rare occurrence in palliative care and so like a couple of schoolboys this afternoon we whispered the long KFC menu and he put in his order.

I treated a few of the nurses who weren’t watching their figures too 

For logistical reasons we had only been offered sandwiches from our usually robust canteen.

The patient tucked in to his zinger burger with some gusto and my vicarious pleasure in his pleasure was immeasurable . 

It was funny but as I was sat in the drive in queue I remembered a visit to the same local takeaway three years ago. It was a summers evening and I was with my husband.

We had just been to a particularly harrowing relate appointment and I was feeling bruised and battered and vulnerable.

We stopped because we were hungry 

And I remember feeling rather odd 

Lost in those wonderfully indulgent eight spices

The chicken cushioning  me from all of the hurt. 

Let’s leave things on a lighter note

Taskmaster tonight

My new guilty crush

The comedian Mike Wosniak 

What a tash!!!!

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

The New York Met emails me weekly

 

It doesn’t bother me much unless it’s selling it’s Christmas Decorations 

I bought many of those when I’ve visited New York 

Last night the “ Met “ offered me my own Ruth Bader Ginsburg Action figure and how could I possibly refuse?

So on a whim ...I’ve bought her within seconds of the offer

An elderly Jewish woman action figure of intelligence and humour 

How gay is that...? 

She will be my next so alternative Christmas dec 

Maddie

 Yesterday, I did indeed clean the patio of it’s dirt and winter grime. The old rabbit hutch which had doubled as a wood store was dismantled and added to the field bonfire and as I was returning to the cottage, I spied a squared off stone peeping from behind a large tussock of grass.

It was a headstone of the only dog of mine that was buried on the field.

It was Maddie’s headstone.

I sat and remembered her for a little while

My eyes closed and my face turned to the sun

Maddie was a Scottish Terrier.

She was my second dog, and was grumpy, taciturn and aloof.

A mirror image of Finlay, my welsh terrier who loved the entire World with an open heart.

Maddie loved her masters with all of her heart but showed her affection with all the distance of a 1970 s parent.She would lie next to you, rather than on you and would arrroooo at you rather than lick your face but like a maiden aunt who was dressed for mourning, she was fierce and proud and only had eyes for her nephews who she watched with careful eyes of shiny obsidian. 

Maddie chasing Meg and Finlay

Maddie was never showy 

Never demanding 

And never overly demonstrative 

She enjoyed her quiet life following the others and following you

And after years of not thinking about her, I remembered her quirks and ill temper and loyalty until my eyes stung just a little.

On impulse I lifted her headstone out of the ground and cleaned away the mud and the dirt.

I placed it against the wall on the patio and will soften it’s look with potted primulas and violas 

I thought it would be nice, for passing walkers to read her name out loud when they saw the headstone

And wonder who Maddie was as they did so.

A Little Kindness

 

Village Elder, Islwyn looked busy this afternoon.

I spied him in my field , dragging branches to the ever growing bonfire mound.

He had been pottering around the graveyard,

The graveyard he has unofficially manicured for well over a decade.

He waved.

We talked about Gentleman Farmer Ralph 

He and Islwyn had been good friends.

“ The family said that they can almost see Ralph’s graveyard plot from his farm “ Islwyn said and I nodded looking across the valley to Ralph’s farmhouse standing proud to the South West “Pity  for them there was not a hole in the hedge“ he added.

I noted that the branches in his hands were the size of a small new hole in the graveyard hedge.

Another Daydream

I treated myself to a Moka Pot 

They sell them in Sainsbury’s 

Slightly pretentious I am sure ,

But I have enjoyed the ritual of the coffee making.

And to be fair it doesn’t take long to use.

I’m at the kitchen table at a loss to what to do today.

I’ve swapped my work shifts to the weekend to cover staff shortages and to allow me to participate in Gentleman Farmer Ralph’s funeral. 

I will stand in the lane  at noon , with the dogs by my side,

So what to do today? 

The patio needs scrubbing of its winter grime,

And the loose downspout on the corner of the cottage needs fixing.

The planters needs emptying of dead wood and the wood store that used to be an old rabbit hutch needs dismantling 

All dirty met work .....

I’m day dreaming too, thinking and day dreaming with my fat hands warmed by my coffee mug. The nice blue french mug without a handle...another thing that pleases me.

I’ll start work in a moment....

Just time for another coffee and another day dream