Audit Time

Putrid Petra and her acid tongue brought up one interesting point as she poured vitriol upon the readers of Going Gently and that was her very own assessment on it's demographic
As she saw it, my " fan base" runs in a very linear way,and I quote

Anonymous4:31 pm

I am not envious in any way Jon, I just find Going Gently rather too sugary and at times a touch false for my tastes.
It panders to an audience of middle aged, sad women, as far as I can tell, oh with the occassional gay man thrown in to balance the books as well as the usual handful of drunks that blogging seems to attract nowadays. ( ring any bells Jon? )
I am anonymous because I am allowed to be.
But if you want to know my name, I am happy to share it.

This post both insulted and amused me , as quite cleverly it insulted most of my readers without pausing to catch breath. I noted that particular bile was centred on long term reader Anne Marie who she referred to as a " cat owning fag hag"
Anne Marie had her very own way of dealing with the issue

TexasTrailerParkTrash4:33 pm

What a thoughtful, kind person you are, John.

ReplyDelete

Replies

1. 
   Anonymous4:58 pm

   Pandering again to a needy ego!
   I feel nauseous
   
   Petra

   Delete
2. 
   anne marie in philly10:14 pm

   then go puke somewhere else, bitch!

   Delete
3. 
   Cottontail Farm2:28 am

   Oh, Anne, I laughed out loud. Love it.

   Delete

anne marie in philly12:22 pm

we philadelphians tell it like it is. and NO ONE talks trash about one of my friends!

Delete

This made me cackle with amusement

All this bad humour has been somewhat interesting . I have  more female readers cos blogging is populated more by female writers and readers. Plain and simple. 

They are not sad, pussy owning fag hags with a need for a gay best friend nor are they drunks or balance making queens, even though a few must exist here....like they do anywhere

So what I am asking 

Tell me your demographic ? 

Age? Sex? Gender? Alcohol status? Knicker size? 

Let's see if the old cow was right! Tee hee! 

7d For Milk

Well Putrid Petra certainly put the cat amongst the pidgeons yesterday with her spunky bad manners. I took the anonymous block from the settings last night and returned to Going Gently this morning to see what damage she had inflicted only to note that she had not returned.
It's the fickle face of internet I guess.
Not a great deal happened yesterday. I finished washing down the living room walls with diluted sugar soap, and went to find Harmonica to tell her that the village Friendship group is interested in her keep fit programme.
On the way home with Mary, I noticed Auntie Gladys standing in the window of her house which was once the grandest in the village and on impulse I stopped and knocked on the door.
She wasn't having the best of mornings, I could tell .
She seemed rather vague but admitted that she needed milk , so I went home to fetch her some.
As I decanted some milk into a jug, I scoured the fridge ( still without it's door! ) for some tempting nibbles I could make up for Gladys' lunch ( we are still not quite sure just how well she is eating)
The Prof and I are on a bit of a health kick at the moment , so apart from vegetables , salad stuff and the obligatory pot of cottage cheese there wasn't much I could find but after a bit of rooting I did come across a packet of Geroge's special treat chicken meat balls
" needs must" I told George as I spooned a good half dozen on a plate with some cherry tomatos
And I wrapped everything in foil saving four for George's breakfast.
He watched the proceedings with bright black button eyes.
I then took Gladys her milk, and placed the meatballs into her fridge. Informing her that I had made too many for dinner last night .
" I don't think I've ever had a chicken meatball" she said " I shall enjoy giving them a try"
Her kitchen was, as usual spotless, and the kettle of the aga was heating up as it always does, but the old gal was looking tired and somewhat frail as I was leaving.
" I must pay you for the milk" Gladys reminded herself and rummaged around on the hall table for a moment.
She pressed 7 pence into my hand
" That should cover it" she said gently.
" That will do nicely" I told her.

Everyone's A Critic

This is the latest critique of a blog post I have recieved overnight

Looking at my comments box, I was mildly surprised to have received over fifty seperate comments over four or five years of blogging entries. The comments are from "anonymous" ( I thought I couldn't receive anonymous comments) and most have a similar gist of complaint

Anonymous10:04 am

She said Fuck all Dickhead.

You really love yourself don't you?
that is pefectly evident with all this bigging up of your life and just how wonderful you think you are.

Saviour of animal kind.
Saviour of strange non existent small town characters
Saviour of fucking dogs treated like children
Saviour
Saviour

Boring and self congratulating pap


Oh dear. My blog entry today was going to centre around Mary's latest obsession
She now delights in accompanying me to the toilet, where she is quietly obsessed with watching all solids being flushed away.
On reflection , I think I'll just  leave you with the photo illustration
It kind of sums up how one person feels
Hey ho

Innuendo

Candice- a star in the making

Episode 2 of The Great British Bake Off had some cracking double entendres
Mel flirted with the camp Rav about how stiff his icing was with the purr " Can I warm your bag with my hands?"
Mary agreed to do a bit of carpet munching
And best of all, when Candice brought forward her model gingerbread pub , she asked Mel to  help with the call " Can you come and grab my jugs?" ( jugs of ale of course)
Thoroughly British
Thoroughly filthy
and Thoroughly funny! 

What Do You Do All Day?

Like Musical Notes on a stave, the three bantam cockerels spend some of their morning perched happily on the field gate watching the world as it goes by.

I photographed them after I heard one of the village schoolchildren laughing at them as he passed with his mother.
" Are they budgies ?" He asked
I didn't hear her reply for I was busy washing the cream painted beams in the living room, which over the years have become peppered with soot and smoke from the log burner.
I am preparing the living room for repainting and it's a thankless  dirty job

Yesterday I swept the chimney ( a job I quite enjoy) then took down the wall paintings and the grimy Gaudy Welsh Jugs from their display shelf to clean.

It's amazing just how much soot and dust dampens a room and has the ability to suck the life colour from it.
Today I will wash the walls as well as the ceiling. Then our Laura Ashley green curtains with  the  sweet cornflower pattern will be washed for the first time in a decade

Oh and I have just treated a new field resident for lice, which is another rather unsavoury job.  It's the latest sob story, another " can you just? " request........a shy Sussex cockerel  unwanted and disliked.......now has a chance to have his face in the sun for the remainder of the summer

And a colleague at work recently asked me what I did all day?

An Important Person In Your Life

I saw this photo recently.
My favourite actress Olivia De Havilland is 100 years old.

I am lucky because I have had a good number of vitally important people in my life
The Prof , my sisters, my best friends, all are as essential to me as breathing, but this photo of the serene and gracious De Havilland reminded me so much of someone who taught me how to be warm. How to love without strings and baggage , and how to laugh at life with all it's brickbats and hard times.
The photo reminded me of my maternal Grandmother, Mary Helena Fry

My gran had a big heart.
She loved easily and was loved
She had an incredibly hard early life
And gave her grandchildren the strength to cope with our slightly sad childhoods.

Who was the most important person in your early life?
And why
Hey ho

"Harmonica" and other tales

I have been a bit remiss.
Village news has taken somewhat of a back burn recently , what with a holiday in Kent, Fridge Door disasters and a month-long Prof sabbatical.
I shall share a brief update as I wait for the windows to fill the two ugly voids in the front of Bwthyn-y-Llan

Today we are back to normal. The Prof has donned shirt and tie and Elvis has FINALLY left the building! 
and Winnie has finally met her two workmen this morning, both of whom have rubbed and kissed her so much that she has finally collapsed in a moist unnecessary heap upon the back patio floor.

I have noticed that we have had a few new residents in Trelawnyd recently. Arfon from Pen-y-cefn Isa told me that the new guy renting his old bungalow is a bit of a gardener and that I should pounce with a Flower Show Schedule, but I have resisted the urge. We need to have a post Flower Show meeting soon to decide which village  initiatives get supported this year and I wanted to check how Auntie Glad is doing. I saw her yesterday, sunbathing outside her front door and she looked well.
- she had a bright yellow duster tucked into the pocket of her pinny

Another new Trelawnyd-ite is the sweetly good natured " Harmonica"
Harmonica ( derived by me adding "our" to her first name " Monika" geddit? ) is, I think Polish. She could be Dutch, but I can't be sure as I am shit at accents, but anyhow whatever country she indeed comes from , she is now here with her partner and young baby, living a few doors down from Auntie Glad.
Almost daily I see Harmonica. She pops down to the field with her baby to feed the birds and like most  animals everytime, they see her coming they crowd en masse by the gate like the forest animals did with Snow White. Like I said she's very sweet, and like many new mums, perhaps a little isolated.
The other day, she asked ( because I am a village elder ( oh errrr) ) if I could help her,
She was, ( pre baby) a busy aerobic teacher and wondered if she could put on some free village based keep fit sessions on in the hall.
I told her that I would ask the powers that be.
The upshot of all  this is that the Hall manager has said yes and Harmonica has been given the green light. I am pleased for her and plan with Trendy Carol ( who had a striking trouser suit on today!) and The Prof to join in ( albeit on the back row)
I wish her well!

I have still got to treat Islwyn and Cameron the teen boffin to something for their work on the field when we were away. Neighbours Mandy and Pat the animal helper have already been given flowers for their input!

George remains his bright and normal Self but will be going to the vets this week. His lump has reduced in size and smell but now remains as a residual and on the surface harmless mass.
We shall see.....
I've been brushing his teeth this morning....It would be easier juggling the contents of a scatter cushion.

The Flip Side

Over the weekend I cared for a patient that required physical 24 hour supervision by two people at all times
It was a necessary, labour intensive, expensive and at times mentally draining task, but strange as it may seem not one that nurses on intensive care are unfamiliar with.
I was " supervising" the shift and was helped both nights by agency nurses, with different levels of experience and knowledge.
Throughout the often long night shift, I had the opportunity of discussing the experiences of both and one in particular, a support worker who travels all over the North of the country in search of work, was an eye opener to say the least.
He told me that he loved working in environments like ours.
The reason?
He was party to " nice"  staff and high standards of care,
He also told me how lucky I was having everything I needed to hand.
I explored his statements further and was somewhat shocked to hear of just how care varies in some public and private care situations.
He told me that he has cleaned  stinking carpets in the middle of the night in an effort to provide an environment suitable for old people to exist in. He has endured bullying and exploitation by burnt out and uncaring staff and he had worked in places that thought providing one pair of gloves a shift was a luxury.
He told me of one dilapidated private home which had one resident's room open to the night's sky whilst another always had one pristine and beautifully furnished empty room on standby just in case the inspectors came to call..
It was depressing stuff.

Working as a nurse in the public sector is not always a piece of cake. But generally in my experience, the care is excellent, standards are high, the environment is suitable for purpose and respect is high.
Sadly in the " real world" that is not always the case

Thoughts readers?