Red Handed

Some of the stolen daffs! 

I was caught stealing this morning.

It all took place during a particularly heavy downpour which the old dogs and I got caught in after delivering a cheque to the trustees of the village hall. The cheque was a donation towards the Hall's decoration from the Flower Show committee, part of last year's donations ...and it was the only dry thing on me when Jean Smith opened her door to receive it. 

She offered me a spare coat, but I told her I was beyond caring, which was true. By the time we got back down the lane we all looked as though we had been thrown into a swimming pool. 

Now the piece of land behind our cottage has recently been sold. It is also covered in daffodils, survivors of the recent land clearance, so realizing that I couldn't get any wetter, the dogs  and I traipsed onto the plot and I helped myself to the flowers, something I have done for the past decade.

I had picked around two dozen daffs when the white van bounced through the gap in the wall and a middle aged guy sat in the drivers seat and frowned at me.

Red handed I decided to front it all out so I waved the flowers rather gaily at him and walked over as he got out of the van.

"Are You the new owner ? " I asked

" I am " he said

" I'm sorry but I've been stealing your daffs" I trilled lightly

" So I see" he answered without smiling.

It was all rather awkward for a moment until Winnie, who was sick to the back teeth of getting wet, pulled herself free of me and marched quicksticks off the plot into the direction of home with all of the grace of a pygmy hippo!

" She's a big girl" the man noted as she thundered past and as I agreed, I could see that the ice around the stolen flowers had suddenly been broken. 

A good job I thought later, upsetting neighbours is never a good idea.

 

Bollocks!

Sorrel gets somewhat nervous when negotiating trains home, so as the 10.04 virgin  train to London arrived three minutes early I got on with her to help locate her seat.
The fucking train left the station at 10.02!
The two elderly ladies sat across the aisle hooted with laughter when they realised, so much so that I nearly punched both hard in the face for their trouble.
I pressed the intercom to the driver which is located above the door but nothing happened. The train roared on, Sorrel looked more anxious and the two crones cackled harder with laughter.
Things got worse as after I disembarked at the next station, I missed the train back because, in the wet, as I was running down the steps of the pedestrian bridge, I lost a croc which slithered underneath the wooden decking.
A fat lady on an invalid scooter kindly lent me her crutch to fish the bloody thing out.

I'd left my coat in the car back at the original station and noted then that I had not bothered to buy a car park ticket before as I thought I 'd only be at the first station for a minute or so.

It then started to rain heavily!

Being Caught Unawares

In just a few days we have celebrated Mothering Sunday and Sorrel's birthday.
It's kind of " mother" overload, which is strange as my own mother died back in 2002.
Last night we all flopped in the living room to watch tv after a rather impressive meal out at the Chester  Grosvenor. The channel 4 documentary 24 Hours In A&E was on which proved to be somewhat of a busman's holiday for me and a rather gruesome spectacle for Sorrel.

One story featured a " before and after" moment with a prickly and somewhat lonely old lady called Wendy who had shattered her ankle after falling at home.

She was feisty, opinionated bordering on rude, brittle and at times incredibly vulnerable as we watched her negotiate the frightening world of being a patient.
Dovetailing the shots of her medical care, we got to glimpse the " real"  Wendy. Her hair brushed up and back, a neat little pullover covering thin shoulders, she talked about her previous two husbands with a mixture of righteous indignation and sad regret and tempered this with the brittle repartee so evident in her casualty clips.
It was clear that she had probably given the producers a run for their money.

It struck me that I was, in fact, looking at my mother, and immediately I told The Prof and Sorrel so for the similarity between Wendy and my mother was so striking that I was amused, and suddenly rather moved by it all.
I had literally seen a ghost and although I made light of the programme, and the similarities between Wendy and my mother, I found myself turning my head away from the rest of the living room............... with my eyes gently stinging.

" Beach Balled sized Lady Nuts"

Things are cranking up nicely towards next week's wartime finale as The Walking Dead's narrative underlines that no one is "mr nice guy" in this brave new world.
Oceanside is nearly on board with " Team Rick"
Sasha is down but not out
Rosita has brought Dwight back into Alexandria to help,
Eugene is an asswipe
And a ton of redshirts are being set up to die next week, which is a shame as new characters such as Oceanside's resident dyke Beatrice and Polynesian Cyndie are rather more interesting than some of the main characters like Aaron and the vapid Eric.

Cheap Date

Dipping crackers into cream cheese and leaving crumbs
Farting loudly in the bath and enjoying the increase of  the foam layer.
Sucking chocolate from a chocolate finger
Popping bubble wrap,
Sitting in the dark with a layer of thick face cream on
Burping after too much diet coke
Lying in your own field looking up at the sky,
Reading the news during a long bowel movement on the loo,
My queeny toy being watched very closely by an interested bulldog
Mushy peas on toast,
Realising that you are the only person in the cinema
Having your toes licked by a dog,
Tinned peaches and evaporated milk,
Sex
Clean sheets and cool pillowcases,
Singing,
Laughing at a private joke,
Lying in bed after a particularly horrendous night shift while your husband and mother in law are out shopping for the day


All nice things that cost next to nothing

Wandering Lonely as a cloud.

Sorrel amid the daffs

The meadows at Bodnant Gardens are filled nose- to- nipple with yellow daffodils, which is a stunning sight when viewed in situ so to speak.

It's A Knockout!

Between Winnie and Mary,  Sorrel has suffered the onslaught of cups of coffee knocked from hands, masturbation on slippers , giant paws bashing perfectly well coiffured outfits and food stolen from plates when her  back has been turned..
At various points in the day,loud  shrieks can be regularly heard as Welsh terrier gleefully ambushes old lady as she potters around at her ablutions.
It's great sport!
Sorrel is not really a dog lady

I shall leave you with this old blog post from a few years ago...I know it's lazy blogging but it made me laugh when I re read it....it kind of captures Sorrel so well
Enjoy

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!!!!!!"

Mother In Law " sitting"

Selfies on Llandudno Pier

A Wonderful World

The Prof is busy at work today and so I am entertaining the mother in law.

A Garden Centre, a trip to a vintage clothes store in an attempt to sell some of her Victorian clothes and lunch out at a rather nice restaurant is the order of the day.

I'll post a selfie of us later! 

In the meantime have a look at this video taken in the village hall recently.

It's a clip of Chelsea Cameron, the daughter of Sandra who is the Hall's caretaker and winner of the Best in Show at The Trelawnyd Flower Show.

Chelsea has a lovely voice and it a bit of a star in the village.

Given the bad news in London recently, the title of this song couldn't be better chosen.

Sit back and enjoy 

Xxxx

Operation Dog Snot Removal and Other Thoughts.

A week ago  I walked up from Westminster Pier and into the sunshine which bathed Big Ben. It was 2pm in the afternoon.

Oh for the grace of " something" go I!  

Today, London is back to business and that is how it should be. 

Today, we have spring sun here in Trelawnyd, and there are a few more people to be seen, which is nice. Trendy Carol, sprightly after a recent holiday , had a nice jacket on I noted and as we stopped for George to catch up with us after his mooch on the village green , I watched a woman cut her partner's toenails as they sat in a nearby conservatory! A surreal little moment of normality as I mused over the fact that over a dozen nationalities were caught up in The Westminster attack.

Today

" Operation Dog Snot Removal" is in full force .

Sorrel, the mother in law, comes to stay later today.

I was hanging her newly laundered duvet cover over the field gate to dry when Sailor John reminded me that I needed to organise the first of this year's Flower Show meeting. I had just received the invoice for the Church linens which some of the Flower Show's profits will be buying so it was on my mind anyway. We will be having the meetings in the Crown Pub this year, with all of us mourning Auntie Glad's kitchen table get togethers as we do so. 

Mrs Trellis was out in the sunshine as I fed corn to the bachelor bantams , we talked about yesterday's London attack and her response was the best I have heard over the last 24 hours.

With her oversized bobblehat bobbing from side to side, she summed up her thoughts thus

" Worrying about it is like sitting in a rocking chair all afternoon! .....it gives you something to do but it gets you nowhere!" 

Wise words.

Clean Sheets

Sometimes a patient just cannot rest.......it often happens when they are dying.
You have administered all the medications you can. You have turned them into a more comfortable position. You have talked to them, held their hand, Watered them , and soothed them but still their restlessness continues and that makes you frustrated and helpless and the family fraught and pained.

There is something that can be done at times like these, and I was reminded of this when a dear friend shared their observations on the subject this morning.
You wash your patient, and you change the bed sheets.
There is something fundamental in this simple act of care, as in some strange way, the simple feeling of clean skin, damp hair that is combed and brushed and crisp clean sheets under a tired body that transports you to Sunday childhood bedtimes after bath time.

Rest hopefully will come then, often when dawn is breaking.
The power of crisp clean sheets.

Women of The Walking Dead

Sasha and Rosita

At the start of The Walking Dead , the women's roles were generally supportive to the men. in that way the series mirrored The disaster movie formula of the 1970s where women were decorative, weak and in need of saving.
Now in series seven, the zombie apocalypse has seen a blossoming of woman power as the likes of Maggie takes the leadership role in  Hilltop and Jadis and the women of Oceanside effectively run the two other communities adjacent to the saviour stronghold.
Carol, now out of her fugue is effectively second in command in Kingdom , Michonne remains a born warrior and Rick's main support in Alexandria and Rosita, a sexy stereotype from the comics has now been given a more substantial backstory where she admits teaming up with men, not for protection they may offer but for the skills they could teach her in survival. " Sex was a bonus" she tells Sasha, underlining that any " using" was done by her and not by the men , now all deceased.
It's an interesting twist.
In team Rick the women now outnumber the men ( a fact that doesn't bode well for Sasha) and with Jesus coming out...we now have four gay characters in the storylines too!

The Boys are back in town

 The three bachelor bantams that I thought had a new home a few months ago have returned to the Ukranian Village after pissing off their new owners with a show of Drama queen behaviours.
Worthy of three Joan Crawfords at a cocktail party.
Older with their tiny bodies full of testosterone, each one has tested me with a miniature  show of I'm in charge but I was on nights again last night so I was in no mood for histrionics and each one got slapped down with a show of force when sharp little feathered feet started to tantrum.

Losing One's Cool

The older I get, the easier I find it is to mobilize and show my displeasure about things.
Pussyfooting around is often the polite thing to do, but it often does not work with some who are dense, uninterested or both.
Sometimes a spade has to be called a spade.
Plain and simple.
The other night, fed up with one blogger's troublemaking on another's blog , I gave my frank and unsolicited  thoughts on the situation.
I hoped it helped .
Being called a twat, publicly is not nice
But it was kind of satisfying to do
On the internet it is easy to give your opinion.
In real life, it is not quite so easy.

The best put down I ever witnessed was on the 95 bus from Sheffield City Centre to Walkley one dismal evening many years ago and it involved a young mother of two and not a swear word in " sight"
The bus was busy, as was the traffic, so three large teenage lads, bored and fractious at the stop/start nature of the journey suddenly got up to no good and tripped up an elderly woman who had gotten ready to leave. The old woman stumbled into the laps of other commuters amid the giggles of one boy and suddenly the young woman was up out of her seat and in the boy's face.
In a clear, loud voice she said " what on EARTH are you doing?" 
The boy squirmed but she refused to let him unlock her gaze
" Have you a grandmother?" She asked him.
The boy tried to front her out and tightened his lips
" Have you a grandmother?" she demanded again
And she repeated the question several more times before the boy final answered in the affirmative
" Shame on you! " the woman said carefully and the boy's face flushed with tears as the confrontation was over.

The brave young woman with her two kids and shopping bags looped over her pushchair  not only shamed  that boy and his cronies but also pricked the conscience of an entire busload of passengers, including myself, who  probably would have done nothing but tut at the teen's behaviour.

Smile and Glide

I don't miss nurse management. Those long days of fire fighting problem after problem after problem with little to no thanks and limited encouragement!
It's often a thankless task.
I was supposed to be working tonight on a night shift but offered to change it to monday night to cover staff shortages. The manager was grateful but didn't quite understand my sacrifice .
" I'll be missing The Walking Dead I hope you realise !" 
They smiled weakly.
Smile and glide I told them, smile and glide.


anyway today's blog is a big up for one of our dear friends Weaver of Grass who is going through a difficult , firefighting time of her own. A plucky octogenarian who always walks on the right line good taste and politeness, Weaver has been blogging for years about her gentle rural existence in North Yorkshire and her comments on our blogs have been always supportive , gently mocking and above all interested in what we all have to say.

We need to send her our love and support at this time

" Grow Up"

Your not funny my friend!!!! Xxx

So messaged a fellow nurse on facebook a few minutes ago
The sweet, good natured nurse at work cut the top of a buttock at home in a " backing into the shower door" incident last night.
As it was hurting her, a female colleague and I suggested that she showed us the injury so that we could assess it and dress it.
In the treatment room we got a good look at the trusting lass' nether region
And with gloves on I suggested I trace around the bruising with a finger!
Secretly
I then drew a zombie face on her arse with a pen!

Not Today

No blog

Working all day!

Another Day, Another Vet Visit

I'm running late today.
Writing this in the vets' surgery..Winnie has gone to have her sutures out trotting away like a baby hippo.
There is a new male vet on duty who looks twelve. Winnie's not bothered how old he was
as he's wearing overalls so looks like a workman...He took her lead and She followed him into the treatment room like a cheap whore!
I am glad I don't have to help lift her onto any observation table as the button has just pinged off my trousers and I am relying on  the zip to hold them up.....I re start fat club on Monday.....as I only have three pairs of trousers I still fit into! Middle aged spread....it's a dreadful thing.
There is much laughter coming from the treatment room.
I wonder what she's up to

A Lovely, Lovely Heart.

I watched the kennel owner bathing William's blind eye when I arrived at the kennels this morning.
They both were sat quietly in the sun in one corner of the courtyard as Mary careered like a loon across the gravel chased by a dim, friendly cockerpoo with learning difficulties.
The kennel owner was rocking him back and forth  as she dab-dab dabbed and as she worked she cooed at him as a mother would do to a baby.
It was a strangely moving tableau.
" He's the gentlest dog I've ever had here" she told me after she had put him onto his feet so he could amble across to greet me " All the kennel girls love him so" 
William stopped , placed a paw onto her knee and stood up to sniff her face
" He has a lovely, lovely heart" she said

Lamb Chop

I walked from our hotel at Russell Square down to St Pauls in blistering sunshine, then went for a therapeutic trip on the London clipper on the Thames then after a short jaunt to the British Museum i met the prof for a late lunch at Dishoom

Dishoom is a delight.......it also serves the best lamb chops this side of Christmas
I ate three in 12 minutes!