Going Gently

Almost There

Caught up with Nu on the phone after I got home which was lovely and then settled down to watch the opening ceremony of the Paralympic’s which is much more relaxed than their much criticised counterpart

The Croatian team has just passed and I remember an ex patient Marinko Kapatanovich at the spinal unit who became a dear friend before he was repatriated to Split in his wheelchair from Sheffield in the early 1990s. We wrote to each other for many years before his early death in the 2000s

Marinko

Rural Croatia wasn’t a place for a paraplegic back then.

. The twins are both sat at the bottom of the stairs. Mary is watching them carefully. Another couple of nights and I can see them mixing naturally .

I think I’ve managed their introduction rather well

Roger is asleep on the couch.

Hit The Road

I went to see a Chinese Neo noir thriller yesterday afternoon. It wasn’t very good, Only The River Flows

Could have been the most depressing movie I’ve seen all year, but it was nice to get back to my touchstone of the cinema again.

I’ve needed it.

Today I’m off to counselling supervision then am off to the university library to plan an essay, Trendy Carol’s hubby has the Welsh and Mrs T will check on the devil kittens at midday.

Enjoy my lisping choir

The Patter Of Little Feet

It was still dark when I woke up.

The lane light remains out of use and so the bedroom is almost totally dark, expect for the slight glow from the garden solar lights and the faraway moon.

There comes the patter of paws on wooden floor boards

Then an excited squeak , followed by another set of pattering

The twins are in the bedroom.

They don’t stay long, for the Marathon run is from my bedroom around theirs up and down the hall and into the bathroom where they terminate inside the shower cubicle .

I heard the toilet roll being unravelled and various shower gels being knocked over.

I fell asleep until my extended foot and right big toe was being tapped furiously .

More racing and fighting.

This time up and down the stairs.

The first step is the first step into no man’s land and cannot be negotiated as yet.

The upstairs is their domain.

Around dawn they were at it again .

This time abseiling down the side of the bed ,

More toe smacks, and zooms and the occasional fart

Something crashes in the bathroom and the dogs bark from their place on the reading chair in the kitchen.

I put the pillow over my head

And swear

It’s not yet 6 am

Home Cooking

I have come down with a small bump today. Before cooking , I took my two boiled fruit cakes to friends in the village. One to Eirlys who didn’t make the show and the other to John & Mandy next door.

I’ve cleaned the cottage and let Roger explore upstairs when the kittens are out of their room. He did so silently and carefully and apart from a few kitten hisses, he returned downstairs ten minutes later rather nonplussed.

I’ve made a parmesan aubergine bake top heavy with garlic and whilst it was cooking, sent in my nursing revalidation in ( my final one ever)

Hurrah!

Last Show Post

Tonight I’m relaxing with a gin and the Proms, the kittens watching the living room through the bannisters, like we did as children

I’d thought I’d post you this too!

A great conclusion to the Flower Show weekend

It’s a photo from Jenny Morris’ social media ,

Celebrating her wins

Jenny is a young , hard working wife and mum who lives on a small holding on the village outskirts

It made me laugh

And sums up the joy of a small village show

Reflection

He enters most years. An elderly man, confused with the labelling of tables and who needs a hand to display his small collection of exhibits.

He’s quiet and diffident and wears a tank top.

And enters five or six vegetables or fruit classes.

This year he won two firsts and second place.

And it made my day when I watched his quiet joy when he checked over his entries as the show opened.

It’s moments like these that make all the hard work survivable.

There’s lots of moments that does your head in though.

The photo of a pet with a family member breast feeding in the background

The plethora of complains about the lack of art entries

The lady that held the queue up for 20 minutes complaining about her admission change,

The child that pressed a long finger into a Victoria sponge.

I could go on

A new lady in the village won the cup for the most marks in the cookery eliciting a self deprecating “ I should have had my hair done” comment before receiving her cup from our local MP Becky Gittins, and suddenly a new tradition is made by her surprised pride