Every Day , say something

 

I’ve blogged ( more or less) every day since 2006

It’s a labour of love and strange as it may seem, it’s never been a chore, even on days like today when I’ve finally managed to sit down after a work shift minutes after 9 pm, I never not want to write at least something.

Blogging is a friend I need to say hello to every day 

The Great British Sewing Bee is on the tv, the dogs have been fed and walked and I’m wondering what to chat about.

I want to be urbane and witty and wisecracking tonight, but it just won’t bounce forth and that’s fine ,  

And so I’ve slipped on my fat bastard jogger bottoms , lit the fire and am now watching the 12 talented and rather sweet sewing nerds do their thing, as my feet throb gently like two  hairy and slightly podgy Belisha beacons.

Hey ho.........hey ho

Horses Noses

 

The ponies are back in my field.

A mare and a colt

Two friendly souls who like to blow down their noses then breathe in your smell.

They please me

I drove to the Mostyn Gallery shop and bought a print for my bedroom and some bespoke greetings cards

I had take out coffee on the beach

Love

 

One of the privileges of working in palliative care is that you work alongside people that truly love each other.

Looking after someone who is dying that you care about  is a labour of love and where as it is not always possible or practical to always achieve the death that so many of us want ie at home in your own bed, there are a whole plethora of services , like ours, which are specifically designed to help that wish be realised but not without commitment and care from loved ones .

I have witnessed true love at these times.

And I have just witnessed it today, so powerful it was that on my way back from the community to the hospice I had  to sit in my car on north Shore for a few moments and watch the sea with the windows wide open and with the breeze gathering my thoughts and soothing my feelings.

I have witnessed.....

Pure, undiluted, warts and all love 

Desperate love

Tired and hopeful and hopeless love

And I am moved , every time I witness it. 

To be loved that strongly is such a privilege.  

A Thing Of Beauty

This speaks for itself 

 

Nutmeg Gnocchi with a chilli courgette sauce

This is a therapeutic and easy supper dish 

I made it from scratch today

Here is my masterclass 

You will need

2 potatoes

Garlic

Chilli x 1 red

Butter

1 cup flour

Nutmeg

1 egg

1 courgette

Seasoning

Parmesan 

Mash 2 potatoes and allow to cool

Grate one courgette, chop three cloves garlic and finely cut one red chilli

( this is for the sauce) 

Measure out Half a teaspoon of grated nutmeg

Put one cup of mash into a bowl add nutmeg

Add One cup of plain flour 

Add one egg

Mix and kneed into a dough

Cut into quarters 

Roll into rough rolls

Cut into 3/4 inch pieces and flatten sides with fork 

Boil a saucepan of water and drop gnocchi in. Meantime fry off chilli, garlic in a little oil and large knob of butter. Season well.

Wait for gnocchi to float

Add courgette and fry gently until cooked

Add gnocchi and ensure all is heated through

Season well if needed , add Parmesan cheese and Basil 

Eat with rocket salad

Bloody lovely

41 Guns?

 

The ruins of the Elizabethan house Siamber Wen located just a stones’ throw South of the centre of the village

According to the village Facebook page there was going to be a 41 gun salute to the Duke Of Edinburgh at midday. I went to collect eggs from the livery stables and managed to snap a brief video of the “ excitement” from the centre of the village.

The salute took place on top of the Gop 

You can here me and villager Mandy discussing the spectacle

On my walk I bumped into Affable Despot Jason who is a staunch republican.

“ 100,000 dead from covid and they are shooting guns off the Gop for Philip...makes my piss boil” he commented ....not his usual smiling self. Mrs Trellis passed with her over erect bobble hat on, and she waved 

Jason and Mrs Trellis ( with Blue)

Jason invited me for a drink in the garden.

More sporadic gunfire echoed over the valley as I headed for home.

The sun is shining and the sky is an azure blue 

I’m making home made gnocchi in a chilli and courgette sauce for supper  

Chic Eleanor has invited me for an outside gin at 6pm

The Wall

 Yesterday I rearranged the paintings and the lithographs, and the drawings and the photographs and the embroideries and the ceramics and the tiny piece of the antique Japanese Kimono on the art wall of the kitchen.

The exhibition looked clean and tidy and comfortable once I had finished

A history of my years post retirement

Every framed piece, a step forward to independence .

The wall has significance and it has power.

Where I once had a great deal of pleasure showing joint treasures, and dreams and memories in such a medium now I show my own milestones and art and loves and likes in one place and it feels nice to do so...kind of empowering.....kind of significant .

A while ago a friend asked me about the art wall 

He acknowledged how important it was to me

And he understood when I said 

It is something real , very real to me ...and nothing .....that is a lie

Ok ....that’s enough of all that.....me and Mave won the Big Gay Quiz last night which was fun. Today me and the girls are going to Colwyn Bay beach for a walk and a proper coffee

I’m counting the days until I can go to the cinema, I maybe able to book a seat very soon!!!!!!

Philip

 

He’s been a bit of a constant in my 58 years.

I’ve always rather liked his chutzpah 

My favourite quote of his was about his daughter Anne

“If it doesn’t fart or eat hay, she’s not interested”

he told reporters.

If he had a mop of white hair he would remind me of Tom Stephenson