Time To Watch The Clouds

This melancholic lullaby by my lisping Choir suits today’s mood  perfectly.

I caught up with an old friend last night for a meal at The Goat and he looked tired and a little sad

Life can be a slog at times and sometimes all you can do as a friend is listen and understand.

It was lovely to see him.

I’ve done a little more of that this morning as I complete my nursing revalidation, sat at the kitchen table,

And from time to time, in between sad texts and messages, I’ve allowed myself to daydream and get lost in the art wall, where the Chicken is always smiling and the wide eyed dogs are galloping joyfully towards the hills.

I’m not depressed or down today, …..I’m reflective

There’s more sadness that’s been passed on to me today that I don’t need to share, and this in turn has recharged old memories and feelings. 

It’s hard to soak up a great deal, of sadness and pain and stress, not that anyone is forcing it on me, but when I mean soak up, I mean to assimilate it, to process it. 

Now follow me right now, drop what you are doing and go out in your garden, or your park, or your nearest patch of green.

It’s grey here with the gentle hint of rain 

There’s a breeze blowing too.

Now lie down on the grass,

my grass is cool and damp and luxurious 

And watch the clouds 

Like rabbits do when they think you cannot see them

Flower Show Jobs

 It’s been a day of catching up with Flower Show jobs. 

I’m chasing up with previous winners who have not returned their cups and already I’m 3 short. 

I’ve washed and ironed my mother’s donated table clothes and bought ingredients to make cakes and entries for the cookery classes as well as build up a food hamper from scratch  to support the raffle.

There is enough to do. 

An old friend John, is in Llandudno this is week so we are meeting up for dinner tonight.

I’ve also heard from weaver who has eaten a bit better this week because of the positive influence of visitors . She’s been in touch with Rachel,who had shared Weaver’s best wishes around blogland which is nice too.

Nook & Cranny

Not everyone has a needlepoint which captures a year in their life. 

I have! 

Thirty three years ago I was a Charge nurse on a spinal Injury Unit, who lived in a tiny, house in Walkley Sheffield with ginger cats, a miniature garden, a spit and sawdust pub around the corner called The Sportsman and a collection of antiques started with a black 1940s Bakelite phone from a local junk shop

It’s charming and it’s been hanging on my landing for an absolute age now and now needs a move to a new corner which will allow it to be viewed all over again 

 

Meet 2

 The meeting today was quieter thanks to the cheese and a handful of Sausage. 

No barking, no silliness , just some careful good looks and sniffing . 

After half an hour Mary settled and minutes later Roger finally sat down, but the kittens remained in the carrier. 

Day 2 ( tick)

I met up with village Elder Ian and we revamped the flower show posters which will be placed at either ends of the village 

I mopped the bedroom floor, made avocado salad and opened every window except those in the kitten’s bedroom 

A quiet Sunday all told

Mexican Standoff

A minute later the dogs walked in on their leads and the kittens flew into their carrier, wide eyed and spitting . It was a long hour, with the kittens in defence and Roger in benign greeting. 

Every hiss had him bouncing back behind me, a worried look upon his face. 

Mary watched carefully , stepping forward, then back then forward again until she grew bored and at the 50 minute mark she sat down to sleep. 

Roger wined and barked some, then repeated his hopeful greeting before jumping back yet again. 

Both dogs turned their attention to me when I retrieved a small lump of cheese from my pocket, from which I gave each a morsel 

I will repeat the process tomorrow until boredom and cheese dominates 

I went to see Alien Romulus tonight

It was shite

Bit of the lisping choir to compensate 

Asleep on the table

 Another study day today, this time in Bangor along the coast. The drive in good weather is glorious and the defib part of our training was interesting so the day felt worthwhile. Our trainer was a woman from furtherest West wales who couldn’t have been more Welsh if you had dipped her in larverbread, she talked about drones being employed to fly defibrillators to wherever they were needed

https://ambulance.nhs.wales/news/nhs/2024/skys-the-limit-for-drone-delivered-defibrillators/

A fascinating concept which seems closer than our class thought to reality.

How things can change for the better.

I fell asleep at the kitchen table when I got home, dreaming of drones, and dragons and the sunny North Wales Expressway

The Welsh watching over me as I snored on my forearms 

Thursday Night

 The Welsh come out with me on Thursdays. They sleep in the car  when I see clients and we have a walk inbetween. 

On the way home they are treated to a single cheeseburger each, which they both eat with closed happy eyes. 

Weaver emailed me. She’s poorly but very pragmatic and has the most informed family doctor who has prempted all the advice I have started to give during our correspondence which is reassuring to say the least. 

In hospice terms our dear Weaver is on the landing and she’s she knows that. 

The landing is the place at the top of the stairs , the plateau before a decent.

It’s a time of lethargy and of naps 

And it’s a time of getting thoughts in order. 

She is not eating 

But she sends her love.

Please don’t thank me for sharing The Weaver Update I’m very privileged to be able to do so. 

I’ve done little this evening, but watched  Dial M For Murder and presently Suspicion ( is it me or is Cary Grant camp as Christmas in it?)

Roger is clingy tonight and is asleep in the crook of my arm

The kittens are tamer tonight in their room upstairs 

I we have had rain and the nasty humidity of the last few days has gone

The cottage smells of clean cat litter. 

.

 

Môme Piaf

I’m sure the neighbours are thinking that I’m have a moment 

After a long study day me and Welsh are relaxing to Madam Piaf 

An LP treat to myself this week.

Tragic French songs fill Cwm Road and beyond 

une autre absinthe mon bon serveur