Molly Sanden & the Children of Husavik perform "Husavik" [Live Oscars 20...

This should have won the Oscar for best song last night...

It didn’t......

Even though Molly donned 48 earrings, two miles of oven tin foil and was surrounded by a gaggle of fat Icelandic cherubs all dressed in home knitted jumpers, the beautifully lit Reykjavik skyline and the whole country’s firework stores

Pity.....I liked i

Cleaning The Kitchen late

It’s been a funny old day all told.

I got up early walked the dogs , had eggs on panini toast then realised I hadn’t planned much for the day.

I went back to bed and watched internet movies and tiktok crap then day dreamed about meeting a floppy haired bear dad with no baggage and holes in his jumper at the village hall.

Of course this only happens in specialist indie movies based in Yorkshire  , and so , I walked the dogs again, and returned to bed fully clothed where Albert gleefully took advantage of a group siesta and slipped in between Mary & Dorothy before the latter made herself comfortable by resting her chin protectively over mine. 

We all slept until four .

I woke slightly disgusted in myself for wasting the day, so in a fit of energetic pique, I cleaning the kitchen within an inch of its life and made soup for my lunch at work tomorrow.

Hey ho

Oh Yes

                                         

    When in doubt, TWIRL YOUR EFFIN’ ARSE OFF!

 

The Prone Trolley

 When I worked In Sheffield’s Spinal Injury unit, the occasional patient would have been able to mobilise out of bed by using the Prone Trolley.

These patients were usually ones with older spinal injuries but with new, more acute skin problems or pressure sores on their bottoms and sacrum. 

The prone trolley was in fact an adapted theatre trolley , which the patient could like face down upon, usually with strategically placed pillows supporting hips , sternum and feet. 

The patient would move the trolley with his arms, which would propel the front wheels, allowing him or her the freedom to navigate the Spinal unit, and at the same time no pressure would be exerted on the more vulnerable sore bits , allowing them to heal naturally .

These patients would generally be covered with a light sheet , below which they would be naked and paralysed .

One patient I remember who used the trolley was a bit of a wag , I shall call Norman

Now Norman was in his thirties, and it would be fair to describe him as a bit of a joker and a wide boy. He would spend his time with the newly injured and sometimes more sensitive patients on bed rest and was one to joke around and play tricks on them and the nursing staff , who put up with his antics with uncharacteristic thin lips.

I remember one day when Normal pushed himself onto the balcony garden of my ward, he entered into some ribald joshing with several of the patients on bed rest. Unbeknownst to the staff, a couple of the patients had clubbed together and with the help of a visitor turned the tables on poor Norman and an hour after he came he announced to the staff sitting at the nursing station that he was returning to his own ward for tea. 

The staff said nothing as he wheeled himself past the nursing station and allowed him to pass my office which was at the end of the corridor without further comment.

As Norman wheeled himself merrily part he shouted out a greeting which I answered 

And I turned to watch him pass I saw that his fellow patients had secretly removed his sheet  allowing the world to see a large expanse of buttock with two large capital W s drawn in lipstick on each cheek.

And placed very carefully between the butt cheek itself was a hastily picked daffodil, standing proud, yellow and very tall.

In The Garden

 

It’s a glorious day, bright and sunny.

I haven’t done a great deal but wash my new duvet set that Dorothy thoughtfully pissed upon last night and pot up the little french half hanging basket by the front door which had dried out in the dry spell we’re having. 

Sea Pinks or drift as it is also known as, wasn’t my first choice for potting up but I think they will look nice flanked by simple white violas , against the old stone of the cottage walls.

I repaired my gargoyle , fixing him back on his plinth with some fixative and spoke to Mrs Trellis as I brushed the paths free of blown rubbish.

“ I knew you were in “ she observed “ there is washing on the field gate” 

Dorothy dozed on the lawn as I watered the planters

And as she looked so comfortable  I laid down next to her in full view of passers by and promptly fell asleep

My Coffee Is Good

 

Trelawnyd from above the Gop

Late April is perhaps the best time of the year to see Trelawnyd, especially on a sunny day. 

For those that read about this rather insignificant little village, I am sure most will have their own mental pictures of it, but I am aware that apart from some photographs I have never attempted to describe this place where some 500 souls make their home.

The village is situated some five hundred and fifty feet above sea level in the Clwydian Hills and is tucked on the South facing base of Gop Hill, which is the second hill in the range if viewed from across the bay in Llandudno.

Gop Hill and the Neolithic Burial Mound( the village lies bottom right)

Gop Hill is partially wooded , but the slope which backs onto the village is grazed and is covered in gorse bushes which glow gold in April when they start to flower. 

I am looking at the Gop as I type this green and gold against the blue sky.

On its summit lies the Neolithic burial cairn, and the black stick figures of dog walkers can just been seen standing on the top.

The village is protected from the North Winds by the hill and lies along one road ( London Road) with the church and school dominating the West flank and the Village Hall and Pub bordering the East.

The centre of the village lies nearer to the Hall with the older houses dating from the 17th and 18th Century spreading North and South just a little. 

My cottage , one of two built in the 1660s lie down a little lane which follows the boundary of the Church wall. The lane snakes down the valley to the Felin ( Water Mill) before climbing again to the South, so the village is comfortably surrounded by hills and is perched above a valley which slopes gently down to the coastal plain and the sea which is only five miles away.

The largest building in the village is the Memorial Hall which was built at the turn of the century by the Greek Consul to Liverpool Mr Michael Antonia Ralli in memory of his wife Polymnia 

The Golden Gorse covering most of the southern part of the Gop

We had a power cut this morning. The village what’s app group buzzed it’s annoyance .

I went to Mc D ‘s and got a large coffee to start the day properly. 

It’s sunny and lots of friendly faces are about.

I feel recharged today. Proper sleep has helped with that as did a good debrief with a friend about sad case at work which laid heavy on my mind

I’m off to buy a wisteria this afternoon and tonight I am catching up with Gorgeous Dave for a beer in his garden.

But for now I’m typing this at my office desk and as I look out of the window I spy a couple of villagers I know chatting in the lane. Pippa walks down, past them with Meg

And from the gardens comes the crow of the little bantam as he answers the call from the riding stable cockerel.

The sun is bright on the houses that border London Road and above their roofs I can see the golden gorse on the Gop glow a warm yellow.

My coffee is good

Slipping Through My Fingers

Still tired tonight...just recharging 

Hot bath, video call to an old friend , crisps , big cry, ABBA 

All is almost well 

Catching Up

 I slept until 6.30 am when I took the dogs for a wee , then slept on until noon.

I needed the rest. 

I walked the dogs properly

Did a large shop and bought some luxury puddings for Trendy Carol and her hubby.

Over the last 10 days I have worked 7 twelve hour shifts and every one of them trendy carol has baby sat them in the afternoons. 

When I got home it was upsetting to see one of the field ponies had been sadly euthanised . She had apparently suffered from ill health for a while and had deteriorated recently. Her body will be collected later.

There is nothing more forlorn than the site of a dead, much loved animal lying still on the ground

I’ve just written this whilst eating a small tub of coronation chicken 

A real treat for the day

And now I’m half playing at tidying the house, 

The bantam cockerel who lives in the graveyard called in early for homemade sourdough