2025

 I’m working tonight and that’s fine. My colleagues are a bright young staff nurse and a support worker with a big heart. 

I have no trouble working New Year’s Eve. 

At the back end of 1989 one of my best friends died, his name was Ian Parry and he was a freelance news photographer. He died returning home from Romania 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Parry 

Ian was a high flyer and carried the hopes and dreams of his Welsh friends to London and beyond. At 24 he bought a flat, had a glamorous girlfriend and showed more chutzpah than Babs Streisand in Yentl, so when he died , we were left floating and lost and without a touchstone that linked us to success and positivism. New Year’s Eve lost its sparkle then, a sparkle that has never returned in thirty years or so since.

It’s stormy here today and the roar of the wind is loud through the Churchyard and around the corner of the cottage and its chimney. 

The twins seem fascinated with the wind sounds and are sat by the front door, feeling the breeze through the door vent. Mary has stopped her nesting and is asleep on the couch. Roger is watching the blue tits feeding from the back garden. The gale is causing them problems which interests him

I’m going to make avocado on sour bread with poached eggs which will be my meal of the day.

I’ve made a chicken salad for supper.

So my friends we are almost in 2025

2024 saw Dorothy, that little dynamo of a bulldog leave my side after five years of loving me with passion. Her drama and loyalty filled a chunk of my divorce grief as I kind of knew it would and her death left another bulldog sized hole in my heart. 

I still miss her dreadfully . 

But Bun & Weaver have arrived with a bang, two naughty school girls throwing an old bachelor’s home into disarray.  

I’m an old dog, having to learn new tricks.

The wind seems stronger now.

I’m listening to the second of Dr Gwen Ashead’s Reith Lectures which centres around evil. 

It’s an interesting BBC listen. 

What do I want from 2025?

To be healthy, 

To be happier, 

A Bit Of Reflection

It’s nearly the end of the year and I have much on my mind. I have blood tests booked which, I’m sure will show I have diabetes. I’ve lost some weight purposely and my diet has changed, but the lethargy which haunts me daily cannot be ignored, even though I’m quite astute in acting like the proverbial Orstrich’s head. That’s all part of not having a well-being hat on….ie the cobbler’s children had no shoes sort of thing.

If things progress I shall be a qualified counsellor in June. I know I’m more suited to transactional analysis area of counselling, which means more study and training, and with my blood sugars more stable I will have the energy to push myself further in what will be my 63 rd year.

I’m slowing down too, which means more stillness and mindfullness .  

Life isn’t better just because you employ the smokescreen of bustle 

Life also isn’t a film script. There are no saviours, save for ourselves

You’re on yer own kid 

Now who said that? 

,

 

Sometimes

Sometimes you miss things

Sometimes real life gets you tired and stressed and blind to things important

Busy day today 

Lots of nursing support given, 

Lots of nursing management stuff 

Some days go like that

Some are overwhelming 

So you get home late

When It’s dark and lonely

Kittens are fed, dogs are walked, fire is lit

Tv on, tv dinner in microwave, kittens are bullies

Nine pm 

It feels late……

Roger, sat at my feet. Quiet and pointed, brown eyes searching mine

I know he needed, and wanted a hug and I suddenly scooped him up with big arms and teary eyes

His head under my chin, his eyes closed in doggy happiness

If he was wearing a jumper , there would be holes in it

We sat together, me rocking him like a baby, for an age

His paws wrapped around my hands 

And time stopped

everything is alright

Internet

 My sister had left me a roast dinner on my door step which was kind tonight. 

Im tired after a busy shift, so ate supper on my knee in front of a hastily lit fire.

Another day at work tomorrow. 

My Hotmail email account , the one I’ve had 25 years, has been locked which has been a real bind  

Despite hours trying to reopen it I’ve had to resort to jgsheffield@icloud.com to sort out my life on line

How much re rely on the internet now

Hey ho

Wicked

 I’ve never really liked fantasy musicals 

Willie Wonka, The Wizard Of Oz, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, all leave me somewhat cold and bored, so I was surprised that Wicked held my attention for so long. 

I had seen the original musical in San Francisco , and had forgotten it shortly afterwards so the film seemed ill fated and probably ill advised, but as it was organised as a post Christmas treat with my friend Ruth, ( with a spicy burrito to follow) I thought What the fuck ? Why not? 

Elfaba ( Cynthia Erivo) was born to play the lead wicked witch as she conveys every single emotion with a close up single look. She is the film and she is amazing in it. Grande too is impressive as her foil and friend G’linda but everyone’s eyes are on Erivo’s green face which when silently weeping, clearly sets the audience off.

The film itself was so so but the scenes between the two witches are touching real and wonderfully observed.

Boxing Day

 Mary is more rested, her nesting hopefully no more than a hormone surge. I picked up a new carpet cleaner this morning ( the old one collapsed exhausted due to over use ) so my Boxing Day , I’m cleaning and nesting like Mary had done. 

It’s usually a day for walks and chat, but I’ve no one to walk and chat with which is shame but at least I can breathe new life in the living room carpet and half watch Casablanca and The Magnificent Seven which dominate BB2 this afternoon.

Had a lovely Christmas lunch yesterday with family , and there was much hilarity when my nephew gave me this very tragic vase

Luckily my sisters gave me this Barcelona print, which I’ve just hung

And this croc key ring( very me)

Mary’s with Child?

 At 8 pm last night Polish Monika called around with some Polish food all wrapped neatly . I was touched by her kindness. At 10pm there was a knock on the front window, it was Mrs Trellis gayly waving a chocolate Santa, ever one to make a final entrance, her joviality moved me. 

I made a Sherry trifle and spent the evening watching tv and messaging friends not caught up with before Christmas 

Mary has ripped the cushion back out of the kitchen reading chair, she is also suddenly restless and moody

( well more moody that normal) it took me ages to realise that she’s nesting.

I’m presuming it’s a phantom pregnancy given her age 

Which means I have my own Virgin Mary 

But I’m not at all sure, 

Eve

 I’m sat at Sainsburys cafe with a liberal amount of avocado and poached egg down my front.

I’m not surprised only mildly disgusted with myself 

My second best navy jumped splattered 

The woman at the next table gives me that benign bless him look, as if she spied someone with learning difficulties out alone. ( I remembered I was wearing sweatpants that were bleached on the arse- from a distance they looked as though my left cheek was hanging out) 

I can’t wait to get home .

I dropped off Animal Helper Pat a gift . She was busy cooking and baking and  now Bluebell is empty and devoid of cards and gifts. 

I’m watching a gay couple too, they are dressed in matching Santa hats , and they bicker lightly over what to order and I feel a little envious 

But the weather is mild and the sun is shining albeit in a watery way so I wish you all ( including anon troll) a happy Christmas Eve 

I hope you are all ok xx