Violas

 I planted up violas on the kitchen wall at teatime yesterday watched by Roger who finds everything I do fascinating . 

I love standing by the lane because in good weather it’s a place for people to promenade 

Villagers ambling past to say hello.

I’m a sucker for occasional company 

Animal Helper Pat, well into her 80s can out walk me anyday

Islwyn with a complaint about my recycling ( don’t ask)

Great Dane Hudson looking every inch an old fellow with his mistress

Mrs Trellis , loving the spring weather

Polish Monika and her delightful French Bulldog who made a point of stucking his nose up Mary’s arse! 

And Glyn and his sing song Welsh accent praising the weather, before he sees to the sheep field.

Many and varied

I’m working nights until Monday 

 

Church

The Church as seen from my garden today

I’m not religious.

I’m agnostic I suppose but I’m a humanist by nature who believes for the most part that there is good in most of us. 

I envy the certain nature of someone who has a strong faith

It lends a particular inner peace that at times seems very simple and very serene

Perhaps things seem more black and white to them

Less ambivalent

I miss sitting in our little stone built church

It’s locked and empty now. 

Only a few years ago I used to clean it. 

I Polished the pews until they smelled of lemons and shone in the light filtering from the south facing windows

And I hoovered the red carpet until the plug was pulled from the wall.

After that I would sit 

And think and drift off from thinking into a meditative fugue

I miss that

I miss the silence, the true silence forced by two foot walls and windows of lead.

No faint buzz of traffic

No chirps of sparrows

Just silence. 

Grateful

 A day at the kitchen table.

Sorting out the record of my counselling experience 

Times,session numbers, progress made.

Lines and lines of facts and figures

Watched by my own 9 Gormley figures and Roger of course

I was reminded of a client who once showed me her gratitude diary 

It was homework given to her by the mental health team 

And it was empty

She had nothing to fill the pages with

I wrote my own in my head today as I listed my clients and their histories

Old people eating Ice Cream,

No one in the cinema in an afternoon,

A thunder storm, 

Tiramisu,

A blood sugar of 5.9

Praise,

My best Walking Dead T shirt that now fits!

Bun cuddles,

Fresh flowers on the lane window ledge ,

My first A grade at University,

Friends,

Walking into La Sagrada Familia for the first time,and crying

Scented candles

Roger being dim Roger,

Realising I am content,and more self aware than ever I was

A flirt with an attractive man ,

Thinking an attractive man is flirting even when he isn’t ! !!!!

Lemon curd

A cracking movie, standing in an ovation in the theatre,

Miso soup,

The Lisping Spanish Choir.

A hot shower,

The people in my village,

The Storyhouse cinema,

Being respected. 

My family time

A memory of a scotch egg

I’m also grateful for little films like this one 

If you have a minute watch it 

It’s delightful 

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdNy6TrL/

Post Presentation Ice Cream

Ive given two presentations today and due to the nervous energy in the air Iso need a break. so im in Parisellas cafe on the beach and like one crazy mad bitch im having a scoop of ice cream fuck diabetes for 4 minutes.

Balloons In The Kitchen

The kitchen is filled with helium filled balloons, all tied to the kitchen cabinet knobs.They are part of my presentation tomorrow ,a Gestalt view on grief treatment. you may remember the latest Bridget Jones movie where she and her children send messages to the deceased Mr Darcy in an attempt to resove the pain of their grief. All heavy handed but you get the gist.

Tomorrow afternoon, I have another presentation to give, this time a case study. My presentation will be recorded and graded by two tutorial staff. message to self wear my jumper without the gravy stains! psRoger has burst three balloons already

Holiday.

 Last night, on my break, I made sure all of the Madrid trip was sorted. 

Flights tick

Lisping Choir Tickets tick

Airbnb tick! 

I’ve booked a two bedroom apartment which three balconies overlooking a cafe filled square

If that isn’t Spanish enough then I’ll eat my sombrero 

You always take a chance with Airbnb, who knows what horrors lie under the bed

Painting

 The yappy dogs from next door woke me around three. I gave the Welsh a wee and fed the twins who were annoyed that the dogs were upstairs. The sunshine is glorious ( a bastard of a thing to happen for night workers) so I’ve eaten spicy bean soup out of the slow cooker followed by houmous and celery.

I checked my emails to see if Yorkshire Pudding had received my message ( 😟 he hadn’t) but did open an email from Donna in Tennessee who enclosed this copy of her painting of Winnie 

It’s so captured the essence of that bulldog, who spent her life acting like a gay man in a fat suit.

It’s wonderful, and it made my day

Rattle , Emails and waiting for the Binmen

 It’s sunny with a cool wind.

On our morning walk I picked yellow Rattle which fills the gateways of the fields down the felin . It looks cheerful in a vase on the table and will look better in the lounge after coffee. 

The twins still have not left the cottage after dawn, and sit by the open door by the stairs blinking in the strong daylight. 

It’s Saturday and Roger is waiting for the bin lorry to arrive.

The bin men make a fuss of him which he adores

I’m going to have a long shower and a shave before work tonight. I may go in early if Yorkshire Pudding emails me. He’s on a short break in Llandudno and according to his blog, emailed me to, in order to hopefully meet up. He’s emailed me on my old hotmail account which has now effectively locked me out after a bout of difficult log ins so I’m effectively cut off from an email which I’ve had since the Dawn of the internet. My new email is similar but strangely quiet 

jgsheffield@icloud.com.

I’ve left him a message on his blog, I hope he reads it, or reads it here.

I will leave you with the lisping choir whose first chorister to be seen is my very favourite . The piece rises to a crescendo of sound, much more effective when heard live like I experienced last year. 

It’s one of my favourite pieces