When You Believe…let’s move on

Let’s move on 

I’m a sucker for a big finish ….

Ohhh err missus 

Mave and flis say nothing 

This song  is the best thing from the rather dire musical Prince Of Egypt 

The girl singing in Hebrew is delightful 

I’d love to sing it in choir ….

It would give us shivers 

I play it loud in the kitchen often , especially when next door’s Charlie is yapping

I’ve had to cancel choir for tomorrow night 😥 …I have to re swab on Thursday 

Today  was an odd day because I spent most of it at home. 

I’ve not spent much time alongside CBM but he has spent his working day working hard and singing hits from the 1980s which I found rather endearing.

I spent the day keeping out of his way.

I cleaned bluebell, cut the lawn, locked myself in my bedroom and cleaned every inch of it, before rearranging the inside of kitchen cabinets.fridge and attic store.

Mrs Trellis stopped and we had a long distanced chat about the church. She has been a lady of letters recently and has been complaining bitterly at its closure. 

She wants to know what the Church is going to do with the historic and village centric items from inside the building, especially the war memorial and the famous I am painting .

She also told me that she had voted for me in the community council elections and was surprised that I wasn’t successful 

I informed her out of the six new entrant nominees three had managed to get onto the council thus balancing it out nicely. It was never our expectation that all six would get in over the old guard.

Mrs Trellis’ eyes went wide

Suddenly understanding the extent of our attempted “coup”

The gang of six has been the centre of much village gossip for a few weeks now

Tee hee.

Oh btw Chic Eleanor ( right) and her sister are in Peru doing a sponsored bike ride for the Alzheimer’s association ….chic by name, chi by nature x

Ps the bathroom looks LOVELY 

It may be finished by Friday 

A Note From The Editor

 

Last night’s blogging was a rather unpleasant experience.

And generally blogging shouldn’t be.

Life is hard enough sometimes without snide asides, finger pointing and bad tempers.

I’ve been accused  of being everything from an unfair blog host and a bad friend, to being Walter Mitty crossed with Vladimir Putin. 

One commentator even called me promiscuous 

An epithet I never managed to live up to even when I had a 34 inch waist and underpants to die for.

Now can I make a few things clear. 

I am a poor blogger in some ways, I will admit that.

I don’t always read every comment 

I will sometimes miss a thread or an insult but unlike most of you out there I do work full time and so I don’t have the time to forensically review every one of my words, let alone the comments of others.

Going Gently is my journal and my company. It’s my go to place and is a bit of a sanctuary 

I don’t invite people to insult me in my own home, so I except the same courtesy here. 

I may disagree with other blog writers on their home turf , and

Contrary to some’s belief , I never mind being disagreed with here on Going Gently 

But there’s always a polite way to do it without it being a mission in life.

It’s a fucking blog for God’s Sake

Nothing more. 

So there you have it. 

I’m not perfect but I will always endeavour to be fair where comments are involved. 

If I fail and anger you , all I can say is  I’m sorry you are angry, I don’t go out of my way to upset anyone.

I don’t live my life like that so why would I knowingly live my blogging life the same way.

I am almost 60 years old,

I am reasonably emotionally intelligent when understanding my own motivations , foibles and prejudices 

And when I want advice, I am rather good at asking for it.

Anyhow If you don’t like the way I blog….

Tough titty, it’s how I do it, warts and all, mistakes and all, inconsistencies and all

If you don’t like it. Just don’t read it .

Ps comments have been disabled for 24 hours 

If anyone would like to discuss anything I’ve written further please do so privately on jgsheffield@hotmail.com

Positive

 Finally 

After two and half years on the front line 

I’ve got covid  

A Cool Pillow

 Terminal Agitation can be a common symptom of the dying process. 

It can start a couple of weeks before death and can be characterised as being behaviours that are restless, unsettled and anxious in nature. Some patients are fidgety, others distressed, sometimes angry, sometimes confused. And the causes can be complicated and multifaceted.

Often patients are hypoxic, or have deranged blood work.

Their primary disease may be affecting their bodies adversely with pain, and sepsis, infection and organ failure being other important factors.

Hospice care is often all about managing these conditions.

Medication has its role and is a big factor

Communication and the simple but practical dealing with issues such as dehydration, constipation and retention of urine are others .

It’s a complicated issue.

This morning, in the wee small hours when nothing feels right 

Medications and communication and pain relief and positioning all had a role to play in the quietening of terminal agitation. 

But the final straw that helped the most, at 5.30 am when the patient was most forlorn ?

A cool, almost cold pillow against a cheek

A pillow that had been left next to a slightly open window 

A pillow smelling “ Vaguely of the Irish sea”

Titivation

 While the CBM continues to lick the bathroom into shape.

I thought about titivation 

Now the essentials have already been bought.( Black accessories to set against the plain subway white tiles) but I wanted one little burst of colour to lift the room

I trolled on line and found a Japanese inspired cotton linen of koi Carp which I thought would look nice framed with a white border in a plain black frame

Loo Tales

You need to read the previous blog post first 

I had been asleep no more than 35 minutes when my phone went.

It was the CBM 

And he was suitably upbeat 

“ Can you come home?  “ he asked with an embarrassed laugh  “ Ive locked myself in the outside loo”

Silence

 The CBM sings loudly and badly. 

It’s fun to listen to , but what with the banging and hammering in the claustrophobia of a 17th Century cottage it feels amplified and overwhelming.

My morning dog walk wasn’t restful as Dorothy was in one of her yappy moods and fearing more tree felling activities when I returned to the village , I dropped the girls off at Trendy Carol’s and took myself off for a quiet coffee.

Y Shed was packed with walkers with their dogs when I got there and there was a loud snarling fight between a poodle and a sheepdog just as I raised my americano to my lips.

I took myself off to my sister Ann’s house and let myself in.

It’s a large family house, full of antiques and paintings and memories 

And it was silent , save for a ticking clock and the odd creak Edwardian houses always seem to encourage when floorboards contract during the heat of the day.

No chainsaws.

No bulldog snores

No singing of power ballads 

No coffee chatter

Nothing.

The shower was hot and the sheets crisp 

And the silence of the old house was the best time I’ve had all week

Too Much Activity

 I knew I needed to get out of the village today.

The council tree fellers have started on the dead and dying ash trees that border the old grave yard and the village is buzzing with the sound of chainsaws and wood cutters.

I had to stop for a moment to say goodbye to one particular tree which used to house Alf,Hughie and Ivy, my spirited trio of guinea fowl in years gone by.

It’s devastating to see the demise and destruction of the Ash Trees and I hope the conservation group may be able to replant some of the losses. 

At least my laburnum looks robust and healthy.

The noise from the field and the cheerful banging from the CBM was all too much so I joined a friend in Liverpool for a sunny lunch outside an Italian restaurant in Liverpool One. 

It seemed calmer than Trelawnyd.

Over a very nice chicken salad and a small Pinot  the CBM called to say that there had been a “bit of a leak” and there was now a hole in the kitchen ceiling 

I refused to get stressed by it . I’m sure it will all get sorted

After lunch I bought a glass shelf from John Lewis.

I got home after four and went to vote. It’s our local elections as well as our community council election and I’m one of 6 new prospective community councillors putting themselves forward in a bit to ensure some balance on the council .

The cottage looks a bit rough when I got home.

Hey ho