Talents

 

Books of all descriptions seem to be lying in untidy heaps on the floor. 

They have got on my tits, even though I like the  intellectual look I think they afford to a living space.

I am shallow enough to have enjoyed this...

This year seems to be a year of the book. I’ve been collecting them this morning and have dusted them off 

A new bookcase will be arriving soon for the bedroom , so very soon order will be restored. 

It’s clean and tidy and modern and it was so easy to buy on Amazon 

My plan today was to pop up to the garden centre to buy pockets of colour for the garden and patio, which now thanks to my sister look lovely but the jungle telegraph from the Trelawnyd Whats app group tells me that the queues at Jackson’s are far too big! 

So I will content myself in the meantime with buying some paint to refurbish another old  wooden bookcase from my office, where I will park more flotsam of my 58 years.

This morning I have already dug deep within my testosterone maleness and successfully changed both of Bluebell’s windscreen wipers !!!!!!

I could have beaten my chest and bellowed a Tarzan call down the lane so happy I was with the result! 

When I walked back to the cottage with my chest bursting I then realised that the whole  back of the cottage needs whitewashing too......

There are not enough hours in the day I think......I’ve always found that during home holidays ....my new bargain buy from Aldi ( five blank canvases for 6£ ) are also eyeing me from atop the kitchen cabinets ...I have a zoom painting meeting with my Australian friend planned for this week......

Is there NO end to this old poof’s talents?

Supermarket Flowers

I heard this for the first time recently 

This and other similar experiences I witness everyday are why I need a holiday this week

I’ve booked holidays from work every 8 to 12 weeks or so 

Prudent me thinks

Milk Bottle

I’m on holiday for most of this week. I promised I’d work an extra 12 hour shift on Saturday to cover a colleague’s birthday, but that seems an age away now. I need a break from death and dying this week.

Today I’ve shopped and got all giddy in the supermarket as we in Wales can now buy things that are not essential 

What did I buy? I heard you all ask

Six painting canvases, eight pairs of underpants and a packet of bird nuts

I’m a mad bitch

I’ve done laundry and washed duvet sets, and towels and blankets and hung them on the field gate and picked daffodils from the field border, placing them in an old fashioned milk bottle given to me by my dear cousin from a local dairy. 

I’ve only seen Animal Helper Pat today. She was dragging a canvas bag of garden detritus to the field bonfire for burning. 

Mindfulness

I’m sat at my desk at work

Cup of tea in hand ( no coffee...I treated myself to a large one from McDonalds )

I’m early ...I don’t start work for another half hour.

But it’s Sunday and the roads were clear.

The talk radio subject on the way to work today was

What has lockdown taught you?

I thought of when I met Chic Eleanor for a walk on Friday

We each had a trendy sandwich wrapped in pristine green bread proof paper and a takeaway cup of tea and we sat on opposite ends of a wooden bench taking in the view and the smells and the feelings of where we were.

Without talking

She’s teaching me mindfulness .

And it seems to be working 

The view from our bench

“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!!!!