Rowenna

 Old Rowenna died this morning. She was 92. islwyn’s aunt and matriarch to many still in Trelawnyd, she was a lady of purpose and opinion. When she was well Rowenna marched rather than ambled, she marched that older ladies March with the handbag tightly looped over their left arm.

Rowenna, ( far right) with some of the village People.

Arriving at my last garden open

I rang Islwyn, with my condolences, and sat with a cuppa outside until I grew chilled. 

Later I met my sister in law for lunch at the Red Lion in Dyserth, and had proper thick Welsh rabbit and tea. What a bloody treat!  

When I got home it was getting cooler ,

Tomatoes had been left in a bag upon the kitchen wall by Animal Helper Pat

No where else to go today.

No where else I’d rather be

Nap soon on the couch

Dogs fed, kittens fed, fire lit

George Grundy crying on The Archers

Friday night

No messages on my phone

A Tight Perm

 " Pay particular attention to the details of your work. 

Paying attention to detail makes for the personal touch...it is thoughtful and  it is kind"

This was a particular manra of my tutor Mr Brint , back in my psychiatric days

I remember it well as in one lession we had, the class was taught how to put ladies hair rollers in! 

The ladies were a group of "patient volunteers" from the long stay ward and Mr Brint and a tired looking Occupational therapist were showing us all how to shampoo and set!

" Hair and make up are vital for good self esteem" Mr Brint trilled " Everyone can be made to feel beautiful " 

He looked over at me as I manfully tried to roll my patient's grey locks around a roller which resembled a hairy caterpillar 

" And how is your lady looking Nurse Gray?" he purred 

I looked at my lady's head thick with haphazard looking rollers 

" She looks like a German mine!" I told him honestly 

His heart was always in the right place 

Speaking of tutors, my out standing essay was finally second marked yesterday

I’m averaging a B for last year’s academic work which is bloody good going, given that I’m a definite bit of a plodder.

Hey ho

Wednesday

 I watched the paper thin but entertaining comedy crime drama Ludvig tonight in my underwear,

My uniform lies next to the washing machine 

Only a few minutes are left in a long day.

Not enough time to read blog comments 

Mary is stalking BUN and Weaver, hoping for a Bottom lick 

They are United and a force to reckon with 

Roger is on my knee looking worried, if he was a real toddler 

He’d be sucking his thumb 

I watched two minutes of the following news and gave up

To depressing.

My counselling day tomorrow

Bed again 

Conflict

 

My thoughts are with fellow blogger Yael tonight 

As the bombs reign on Israel in this fruitless, mad stupid conflict 

I’m tired after a full day in college and I’m off to bed early before another 12 hour shift tomorrow

Bake Off then bed. 

Very rock n roll 

Bun melts

 Mary and Bun 

The affair continues, almost side by side tonight during Call My Bluff 

Weaver remains aloof but confident 

Roger is frightened of both kittens 

Tracy

Tracy circa 1987

 My time in York (1986-1989) is when I grew up. 

I was by no means wild, Gawd forbid that! 

But I chose a new and wide set of friends, I had a moderate amount of sex and I assumed some responsibility at work

Tracey B was a part of this journey. She assumed the position of the two sisters I had left at home.

She liked me, she mothered me but I also made her laugh, which was a skill, I had learned through my psychiatric training. 

You were liked if you were funny..

Over the past 48 hours Tracy and I have shared little snippet's of our lives. 

“ Oh by the way …sort of things” 

Perhaps a little fearful of over facing the other.

I have always been attracted by strong warm characters when I left York for Sheffield, Nu was waiting for me and in a swirl of a red skirt and a twirl of a Spanish like wrist , Tracy was gone. 

No mobile phones or internet then

People did disappear . 

I have the opportunity now to thank her for her warmth and friendship. 

I was gauche and very Welsh and uninformed when I went to York. 

I was just 24 and a young 24, 

She was of similar age but a life time ahead of me and I was dazzled by her Sophia Loren smile and her wild hair and the way that people reacted to her.

My York years were my own very personal salad days.

Through Ally ( an OT friend of Tracy’s) I developed my love of the stage and for Opera. Through Dave was clumsy sexual awakenings and from Cheryl my ability of becoming a good friend.

Tracy made me laugh, though. 

Laugh, long and hard without shame or worry.

Boy, and did she make me laugh

Sunday

 This piece gave me shivers, when he was singing the woman next to me grabbed my arm briefly in a gesture of pure astonishment. The lisping choir have just performed a glorious Beethoven which I would have loved to see.

It’s 6.16 am and I look like a panda 

I feel happy this morning , nothing to do with work but everything to do with Facebook which allowed to me to reunited with an old friend from psychiatry who I lost contact with in 1986. 

Tracy B looked like Sophia Loren, she was an exotic creature who always wore red skirts and dresses with high heels to match. A brunette with piles of curls , framing a Mediterranean face and a smile like a split watermelon, she was a beautiful creature that charmed everyone who met her. 

Why she would “ adopt” me as a friend bugger only knew, what with my sad jumpers and bow tie, but during our shared work on Ward One at Bootham Park Hospital in York we were good friends. In a vein of  Holly Golightly mates in Breakfast in Tiffineys. 

Bed

 I haven’t worked two twelve hour day shifts over a weekend for a long time.

I leave at 6.30 and return at 20.45.

It’s well after 9.15pm when I sit down with my bean and chorizo soup made from the slow cooker.

The dogs are eating their dinner in the kitchen

The twins I think are upstairs eating theirs. 

I miss Winnie as my feed need sucking

I’m buggered

Another similar shift tomorrow. 

I’m Watching some nameless reality shit on tv  for a half hour

Then either Bun or Weaver balanced their arse over the side of my mother in law’s tongue on the window ledge 

And gently shat in it! 

I’m off to bed!!!!!!