Gifts

 I’ve taken the day off from acting as counsellor today to regroup, recharge and re boot my Christmas December Jobs. 

The kitchen tops are filled with village gifts, wrapping paper and the like. Novelty tinned biscuits for Sailor John and Many ,a put together hamper for Trendy Carol and her hubby, a small something for Animal helper Pat, Christmas Decorations for the Randa girls ( Randa almost women!) bulb flowers for the velvet voiced Linda .

It’s nice to have ticked the box

Ive posted my Christmas cards too ! ( Bloody thirty pounds of postage! ….I swore in the post office) 

The kittens are in the living room watching reruns of The Walking Dead

The zombies seem to fascinate them

Soon I will be hanging the cards that came today. 

Counselling Day

 My personal counsellor is an eighty year old Irish Woman. She dresses in mountains of shawls, all pinned together at her shoulder by a large Scottish broach. She has dyed black hair which suits her and she uses her direct, compassionate stare to lethal effect when she needs to.

We meet regularly in a little market town in rural North Wales

For weeks she has walked beside me as I’ve analysed patterns of behaviour and emotion and has sat there all accepting  and empathetic when I’ve shared things no one else will ever know, or ever know on this earth.

To me she is a kind of Yoda crossed by Guinan and Ordinary People’s Dr Berger 

A quiet soul who has seen it all.

This was our last consultation until January and darkness had already fallen as we sat there .

After we ended today she held out a thin arm and we shook hands, her grip surprisingly strong

“ Happy Christmas” she said with feeling 

Her spectacles shining in the lights of her period Christmas tree, 

Which Sat cheerfully in the corner of her consulting room .

Angélique kidjo Jerusalema Notre Dame de Paris

This broke my heart just a little 

Ponies

 The ponies from the riding stables had broken out into Rhodfa Arthur just after dark tonight and an array of residents and riders blocked their escape onto the main road  by marshalling drivers to park their cars over the T junction .

The three ponies were spooked and unpredictable but eventually were herded rather spookily down the lane , past my cottage to their field past Trendy Carol’s house.

Good humour and relief was much evident in the air.

I love moments like these where people join together without thinking 

We need more of them 

Pineapple Chunks

 Ive finished the last of my Christmas cards this afternoon, and my mind wandered over a coffee at the kitchen table. 

I noted that I’d not sent my ex mother in law a Christmas card since my separation. I had not wanted to. Within a day she had cut me from her life without even a text and that had stung, and wounded me greatly.

But that was five years ago now and I was led by Going Gently to happier times

My memories wandered to a conversation on Broadstairs beach  

Sometime almost two decades ago

    “ The Prof's family have a beach hut on Broadstairs beach. They have had one for a couple of generations. Apparently you " stake" your beach area with judicial usage of chairs, wind breaks and an assortment of plastic furniture so that no member of the general public ventures within a gnat's crotchet of your encampment.....Think the settlement of Alexandria in The Walking Dead and you will get my gist......
The Prof made himself comfortable as Sorrel and I had a chat about nothing....these "nothing"conversations drive him to distraction.......which makes them even more entertaining.
Sorrel " I love slices mango and melon"
John: " Do you?........I am a bit partial to pineapple chunks myself"
Sorrel: " Really?"
The Prof " harrumphs" at this point.
John " yes......especially tinned pineapples"
Sorrel" thats strange, I would have thought you'd go for fresh

Brief silence

Sorrel: " Do you like raspberries John?"
John " I've gone off them a bit "
Sorrel " hum"
John:" they are a bit bland, the ones from the supermarket"

Sorrel " What about strawberries?"
The Prof then sighs very loudly and shifts in his deck chair
John" Oh I love stawberries ! ........"
Sorrel " I love them too"
Prof ( under his breath ) " oh For fuck's sake"

Long silence

Sorrel " John......what Are your thoughts on passion fruit?"
The Prof screaming into the wind " OH MY GOD........I WAS ADOPTED!!!!!!"

I smiled at the memory 

And on impulse wrote her a Christmas Card 

Pride

 I am always proud of Roger,  several times now he has been used to socialise overactive puppies. 

Through good humour and mirroring ( and a gentle telling off) he has calmed many young dog down 

This is him with Rory my sister’s new pup. Good natured and friendly

It’s Sunday and we all need some lisping choir to blow Darragh away;their children’s version of Carmina Burana is quite delightful.

Darragh

 Darragh woke me around 3am. 

I’ve lost one slate from the roof so far.

South of the village , at Mia Hall several large trees had been felled, almost closing the main road.

I cooked sausages for lunch, giving Mary and Roger one each as a treat 

And before going to bed ( I’m on split nights this week which is a bugger) I lifted my Christmas Wreath from the wall and brought it in. 

My sister made it and if you look closely you can see two black kittens plating in the foliage 

Storm Darragh

 Leaving work, there was an ominous red sky in the morning view across the bay towards Trelawnyd ( far in the distance ) 

I replaced Bluebell’s windscreen wipers ( served by a snide workman from Halfords ) then drove to meet and old friend for brunch at Chester’s Grosvenor Garden centre which was a bit of a nightmare at times as it felt packed with focused grey hairs fighting for table space. We held our ground at a small table and had a lovely talk and an average fish and chip brunch.

Tonight I’m writing Christmas Cards 

Storm Darragh approaches