Duds

 

Chic Eleanor had originally agreed to act as my fashion guru today but was unavailable for a trip to Liverpool so my friend Colin stepped into her expensive Italian Bruno Cucinelli sandals and gave me the benefit of his fashion advice.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an “eclectic” type  of fashion sense which is complicated somewhat by colourblindness and a limited budget but with Colin flexing his impressively sartorial gay muscles I was in safe hands. 
I did make things a little difficult when I bought a jacket before I met Colin. 
It’s wool and nicely heavy, but he pursed his lips just a little and said with a bit of exasperation  “hummmm  I see we are going for an obvious country theme here” 
We entered John Lewis skipping.
The salesman had an interesting take on formal ware shopping. Because of covid he said suits and jackets just haven’t been selling until a few weeks ago when everyone either needed a new outfit for work, to replace ones not fitting because of lockdown weight gain or needed to purchase wedding outfits , weddings open to more than a handful of guests. 
The shelves were pretty empty .
Having said this almost two hours later, Colin had picked out two pairs of trousers, two dress shirts, a belt, a pair of shoes and a trendy tie. 
I was exhausted but satisfied we had made the right decisions so we had chips and curry for a late lunch in way of celebration .
I even bought a handkerchief for my top pocket 
Hey ho

Herding Cats

 


I’m herding cats
I think it’s going to be that sort of week
I’ve got my bucket of coffee ready and am trying to sort out “ when and where!”
But it’s a case of too much to do
God knows when I’m going to get the pilgrim paperwork sorted out for the Church and Chic Eleanor texted me a darling John where are you text last night when I was unconscious on the couch after night shifts.
I’m off to Liverpool shortly to get the wedding clothes ( more stressful than looking after a poorly patient on a ventilator)
Tuesday and Wednesday I’ve got two thirteen hour day shifts 
Thursday it’s Bluebell’s MOT, a funeral , a vets appointment and a concert
Friday is the wedding
Sunday and Monday more long days at work 

Saturday I’m scheduling a lie down in a darkened room with a wet face flannel over my face

Infamy

The Daily Post’s on line article came out today click on link below

https://www.dailypost.co.uk/news/north-wales-news/north-wales-village-faces-being-21785184

Mave left me a message which simply said “15 minutes of infamy “



All Change


 The village pub The Crown has had a facelift recently .the main old farmhouse is now a smart battleship grey and sports a smart new “ Crown” logo with white trim. 

It’s nice to see the old girl looking a bit spruce so to speak.

The two chapels, now closed and sold are waiting their conversions into houses. The older building on Chapel street, which was originally a “ corn” market hall built way back in 1700 will undergo its last transformation hopefully soon, as will the red brick more utilitarian chapel on London Road. 


Conversions such as these are often sympathetic to the original design and flavour of the original architecture and will , I hope, be assets to the village

I’m waiting to go home.I have a headache. My lateral flow test , just taken because of said headache ( a rarity for me) is negative.

Day staff are wandering in, in drips and drabs and it’s almost time to go home.




Routine


 I make a point of going out for a walk when I’m on night shifts. 
Even the shortest of ambles breaks the claustrophobic monotony of working all night and sleeping all day.

We walked down the lane at six pm. It was overcast and cooling rapidly and the sky had a slightly yellow tinge to it. 
It suddenly feels like autumn.
And of rain.
Untidy black “V’s” of Canada geese move east in the sky and the ponies, fortified  by being fed and watered by their owner Sue cantered up and down field neighing and whickering excitedly .
Albert remained home, hunched on the lawn, pretending not to be watching out for the house sparrows chattering inside the honeysuckle by the front door.
We amble home. 
Under the new arch over the gate, which still sports the final sweet pea blooms of summer.
The dogs curl up together on the couch to keep warm as I get ready for work. 

Life plods on


The Royal Opera House

 

Although I have seen several productions live at the cinema, I haven’t been physically back to The Royal Opera House since I went with my husband over three years ago now.
I thought it was about time to return.
Last night, on my break, I trolled the internet and found two reasonable tickets for the acclaimed ballet production of Romeo and Juliet , showing in February and bought them quick sticks.
The auditorium of the Opera House is a breathtaking over indulgence in gold and red.
Shaded lights cram the balconies and boxes and when full over 2,200 people share the view the place seems to glow in a golden light…it’s a view I have never tired of over the years.





Chopsticks

 I made Gyoza dumplings to take to work last night



I always eat with chopsticks when appropriate 
They make you eat smaller portions at a time

That’s all my news


Sentimental Value


It’s been a bit of a heavy week all told.
A funeral, a few work issues, a friend’s partner’s suicide, more vet visits
All varying in their direct effect on me , 
I’m not complaining, there’s never one thing
Boffin Cameron has tested positive for covid so can’t dog sit next week….
That’s only a minor brickbat, but it’s my nephew’s wedding 
I will sort something out.



Last night I sat down in front of the tv to watch The Repair Shop
It’s a real indulgence and remains the best emotional romp on tv at the moment.
Now for those that don’t know The Repair Shop is a show that has the demographic of blogging individuals ( genteel folk of a certain age) they are asked to bring in a usually damaged personal item which holds a great deal of sentimentality and importance to them. A group of talented restorers are then challenged to see if they can return the item to its former glory and the results usually get everyone involved sobbing gently into their jumper sleeves.

Marcia at the reveal

Last night we had fifty something Marcia who brought in her broken childhood doll Diana.
Marcia had been placed into care with her brother because her mother , one of the Windrush generation and a single mom could not look after them single handedly. Diana was the only thing Marcia had of her own and the significance of the cheap plastic doll was all to evident when the repaired toy was returned to a quietly dignified and emotional Marcia 
I bawled buckets 

We all have items at home that hold varying degrees of sentimentality and importance to us
What would you say is your most treasured item?
Mine? 
I was thinking about this this morning

My gargoyle , who is presently camouflaged amid the houseplants