Pick Your Battles

 “Can’t you see I’m disabled ?”

The shouted comment was like waving a red flag to a bull, 

I have spent most of my adult life working with “disabled” people

and I absolutely hate when disabled people use their disability as an answer to everything

“There’s nothing wrong with your eyes” I countered, a reply that sent the man puce

Perhaps you need some context here

The car park at Prestatyn beach. I am parked in a regular parking spot near the promenade with the doors open, waiting for a dithering Mary to jump into Bluebell 

Roger was staring out to sea looking somewhat gormless

The man in the large disabled cart was making a slow wide turn over several empty spaces in order to return to his wife, daughter and their Labrador. He had been barking brusque orders at his family for ten minutes or so, which had irritated me, as I had followed him up the Prom back to the car park. 

He came so close to Roger, that the poor sod jumped and whimpered ( he is a wuss) but my paternal juices started flowing hence the sharp( but not unfair) 

“ Watch where you’re going!” 

The rest you already know, except for the hysterical turn the man then took.

With his voice going up at least two octaves he instructed his wife to take Bluebell’s registration number

“ Get it on your phone Jean !” He yelled making another pass

I felt that I had turned over my wagon and the Indians were circling 

But by the look of things Jean  didn’t look too bothered.

He kept shouting about discrimination, 

I told him for the last time to watch where he was going, which I didn’t need to

And so it continued

Now the man had brand new trainers on so cheap Shoes would have been inappropriate comment so would have been my usual and usually effective Jog On put down , so I resorted to 

“ knock Yourself Out” before getting Roger in.

He was still swearing and circling when I drove off , so didn’t notice when the world weary Jean mouthed the word “ Sorry” as I passed her.

Ps 

The village Male voiced choir is in Swansea today , singing centre stage before the six nations Rugby match between Wales and Italy. 

A Whale In The Sink

 Today, all I’ve done is wash and clean 

Every painting and bit of artwork has been carefully cleansed of soot and detritus and stored away.

And every piece has been looked at again, as if it was new. 

I have a feeling I will pare down the wall and perhaps add open shelves to it 

I’ve not decided as yet.

I’ve only seen Mr Poznan today. He popped in a load of old Readers Digests for me, you know the little ones that are a great loo time read

“ You have a whale in the sink” he observed before leaving

All women do the same

 I love good theatre but I’m not a huge Opera Buff.

I have my favourites for sure but at 61 Mozart’s Cosi Fan Tutte ( translated as All Women Do The Same)seems to have slipped me by, so as it was my friend Ruth’s birthday, I thought , I would take her. ( she inherited a love for the medium from a mum steeped in London Culture who ended her days in Llanfairfechan.)

We saw a quality production for sure, but it’s themes of grooming, entrapment, fickle female sexual behaviour and infidelity seemed rather unhealthy which had Ruth observing if this wasn’t Mozart no one would be here!!!

The singing quality was amazing, truly sublime at times, as you would expect of The Welsh National Opera but I have to be honest I’d had enough after two hours of three of sexual subterfuge. 

Before the Opera we went for a lovely supper at Dylan’s where I had something called Mochyn Budr which means Dirty Pig in Welsh . It was fantastic 

I got home late and happy at having the first really nice time in two weeks  and the reality  hit me as sharply as slap in the face would have done. The Welsh , raised their heads sleepily from the reading chair in the kitchen and smiled a hello , but there was not the hysterical, tail wagging welcome from Dorothy as I’ve been used to for over the past five years. 

I sat at the kitchen table and for the first time since she was diagnosed by the kind Spanish vet , I had a good loud cry.

Only then did the Welsh get up and put concerned paws on my knees, their noses cold sniffing my face.

 

Hostiles

I watched the western drama Hostiles last night, which has the pitch perfect final scenes of any movie I care to mention.

It’s a brutal and hard film to watch, but it has a hopeful final theme of redemption.

Today I’ve bought paint and dust sheets to repaint the kitchen and have started to wash everything down

Nick and Velvet Voiced Linda , Lywenna and Eirlys have called around with gifts of eggs, and jam and a gin and tonic. 

Mrs Trellis dropped in a sort of essay which I have yet to read .

People are so very kind 

I am off out shortly it’s my friend Ruth’s birthday and I’m taking her to supper then the Opera

The Welsh

The Welsh terriers are quiet. 

Not that they are pining, which they are not.

It is because things are different.

Mary is now back in charge

She sat in Dorothy’s old spot all evening last night

Hogging my attention, licking my hands and feet and followed me around as Dorothy would have.

She and Roger came to bed, gleefully rubbing snouts on the duvet as they made circles to settle.

Typically Roger is going with the flow. 

He really hasn’t got a clue, his job of home protector continues with excited, woofing gallops into the garden whenever anything bigger than a blackbird can be seen. 

He employs a Zebedee type bounce when any human goes past in the vague hope he can obtain a hug and still can’t quite maintain his balance when putting paws onto Bluebells dashboard.

He is, and will always be, a tonic

Normal

 Trendy Carol ( probably sporting something springlike in green) sent some flowers around with her hubby yesterday. I told him, and I meant it that I should be the one buying flowers for if it wasn’t for them , I would not have been able to keep my dogs let alone acquire one like Dorothy .

I bought them a bunch of flowers too, and signed them with thanks , Dorothy x

I went to college today then bought some towels on the way home. I’m on annual leave this week

The cottage is quiet, I’m managed to read all your comments tonight , and am thankful I’ve only had to delete a couple , you’re a nice bunch and I feel supported 

Postscript

To add to today’s post 

Some perspective . Last night before we went to bed I put Dorothy in a pair of adult incontinence knickers.

(She took a small.)I’m sentimental, but I’m no fool even with the palliative care of my own bulldog.

She had the energy to look down slowly at the nappy , then looked me directly in the eye with a “ What the fuck have you just done to me !!!! ” look on her face.

It made me laugh out loud

Monday

Emotionally speaking it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster  ride over the past two weeks..ever since a blogger insulted me on line, only removing the insult when challenged by a third party. The internet allows for such behaviour .

Such words would never be verbalised if I was stood there in person and the whole thing strangely upset me.  Work has been challenging at times . I’ve had to pass an interview and essays too

It’s all been a bit h e a v y .

The antibiotics I’ve been prescribed have made me intermittently nauseous but have reduced most of the soft tissue infection in my face. However my glands remain swollen and painful, and I’m self conscious and down about how I look. 

I still have my effing cold too.

Dorothy last night with me on the sofa she’d just shared a frankfurter sausage !

And of course Dorothy died early this morning 

I’m relieved she won’t have to linger any more and was grateful for having time to spend with her on the couch over the weekend with the fire lit warmly.it was her time and I’m glad.

At the end she looked a little worried but hid her head under my chin as I told her to be a brave girl. She snapped at the others so as usual it was only me and her against the world.

The last smell she smelled was me, 

the last voice she heard was mine

In the five years since she came to me, she’s always been such a scared girl at times

But not scared anymore.

I’m going to the cinema later.

The place that makes me better.